This little Onu-Wahi/Koro snippet is loosely brought to you by this prompt. The narrator isn’t written with any specific, canonical character in mind, but the names he mentions are, because again, established matoran society needs ever more building. I love the idea of an entire city built underground, and I hope after reading this you can begin see why!
It has been a long road back from Ga-Koro, but my trading caravan and I are almost home. A trader’s job is generally one filled almost entirely with travelling, a difficult enough task in itself, but mad, hyper-aggressive rahi are making things even more perilous than ever. I never want to be within a kio of a tarakava ever again. At least turaga Whenua finally approved ussalry escorts; most of my crew have virtually zero fighting experience.
Everyone breathes audible sighs of relief as the Onu-Koro Highway entrance finally comes into view. Damek congratulates the crew in his confident, warm, and encouraging manner. He says we should be proud of our resilience, having come all the way to Ta-Wahi after finding the Ga-Wahi tunnels impassable due to heavy rainfall. Without his optimism and determination along the way, I shudder to think what could have befallen us on our detour. Onepu will be receiving a glowing report of this officer; that I will ensure.
Few things are more comforting for a matoran than returning home to his or her own region of this great island. Barely a few bio into the tunnels I already feel exponentially more at peace; the harsh winds of the lava region no longer batter my armour, the air is a much more comfortable temperature, and the sounds of our carts and footsteps echo back at us from far away. There is nothing claustrophobic about the Onu-Koro Highway; it is as tall as it is wide, and several matoran and carts can travel beside one another. Fairly steady streams of water dripping from some nearby stalactites provide us with the means to wash ash from our masks as well. We are renewed by the grace of our element.
One thing I have been secretly thrilled about since we first realized the Ta-Wahi tunnels were our destination is the prospect of passing the Cavern of Light. Damek happily agrees with me when I suggest we take our next break there. We reach it well within the hour, and while the crew rest their weary feet, feed the ussal crabs, and mingle with the miners who are on their breaks, I step into the most beautiful place on Mata Nui.
The small underground lake that pools in the massive cavern’s centre reflects as many small twinkling lights as the sky has stars. There is much more variety between these lights, though, for some are shining stones small enough to carry in one hand, and some are massive glowing deposits that could illuminate a whole banquet hall. The colours too, wow, the colours put the birds of Le-Wahi and fish of Naho Bay to shame. Most of the lightstone deposits shine with a warm, yellow light, but some shine whiter, and many sit behind or next to equally gorgeous crystals. All the reflections from the calm water add even more opportunities to illuminate gemstone chunks, and I marvel at the countless shades of reds, blues, purples, and greens that shimmer on the walls and ceiling of this remarkable cave. The air is cool and refreshingly damp; I love the very smell of it. One day I will convince my Le-Koro trader brother Tuuli to accompany me here. He needs to learn to appreciate natural beauty below the trees.
After not nearly enough time, we pack up and continue on our way back to the Great Cave. Lightstones embedded in the walls become more and more frequent, and a dull droning of mining equipment and bustling matoran becomes audible as we near Onu-Koro’s gates.
Finally, we enter our village once again. The immeasurably huge cavern’s lightstones are distributed in a much more geometric, orderly fashion here; it just radiates a sense of homeliness and peace to me. It is still a beautiful underground starscape—a black expanse of darkness filled with little orbs of light—but it speaks less to a sense of nature’s immensity and more to the part of me that wants to curl up in my bed and sleep until the next trading caravan sets out. Engineers and miners are milling about the villages outskirts, heading to and from the Great Mine and machine shops, and the local market is abuzz with matoran of at least three different Koro peddling their wares. It all creates the most chaotic, familiar ambience, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.
My crew disbands, bringing their carts and ussal crabs to various destinations with relieved expressions on all their faces, and purpose that shows they are all set on reaching their beds as soon as possible too. Damek claps me on the back and offers a few more much-appreciated words of congratulations, and then he too is gone into the sea of black, purple, and orange masks. I cannot help but smile broadly as I shuffle down a well-worn path and into a cozy, unassuming little hut.
Lightstones and crystals may be downright gorgeous, but there’s no other place in the world I’d rather be right now than exactly where I am.
