Part 1 – Drowning in Fire

The Kumu Islets burned, and the drowning Ta-Matoran prayed. She’d been out on the water, fishing for her next meal, when the explosion had ripped through the air, destroying her boat and the other vessels nearby. A fireball had engulfed the entirety of the island, and destruction rained down from above.

Mata Nui, save me…

She clawed feebly to reach the surface, difficult to do with her fishing line still tangled around one of her arms. The water around her was red with blood and fire. Scorched rubble and charred body parts bobbed in the water. Bloodied corpses sank slowly past her, peppered with shrapnel, so disfigured they were no longer recognisable for the beings they had one been.

Please, Mata Nui, help me…

Her vision blurred, beginning to dim at the edges. Black spots danced before her eyes. Her lungs burned. Everyone was gone. Her friends, neighbours… everyone.

Mata… Nui…

She was sinking now, the weight of the water dragging her down, her heavy limbs unable to pull her back up. She no longer felt the pain in her lungs, or the snagging of the line caught around her arm. She didn’t feel much of anything anymore.


Why had she chosen to settle in the islets to begin with? There was nothing here but thugs and Makuta worshippers. Yet she’d gone ahead and lived there, a stringent follower of Mata Nui, living and working amongst some of the most vile beings to walk the world. Was this her punishment for associating with them? To share their punishment despite having committed no crime?


She was about to give up completely, let the dank darkness of the ocean swallow her, when she felt something snag the trailing end of the fishing line caught around one of her arms. It had tangled around something on the surface. Eyes barely staying open, limbs leaden, she started to pull herself up, one hand after the other, pulling on the line until she exploded up into the light, lungs heaving, gasping for air, sucking it in in massive gulps.

She pulled herself up onto the floating piece of driftwood that had saved her life, and almost jumped back in the water when she saw what it was. Emblazoned in the middle of it was a symbol she had spent her entire life knowing to fear and hate - The Rahkshi symbol. 

And yet… was this a sign? Mata Nui had abandoned her, left her to die, but Makuta had saved her? Perhaps… Perhaps she’d been believing in the wrong thing all along.

The Ta-Matoran looked out across the waters. She couldn’t see anyone else, so she lay down on the piece of driftwood, and began to slowly paddle back towards the mainland. She would survive, and from now on, she would devote her life to the being who had saved her from the murky depths.

Dayeth now knew that Makuta was her new god.

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