Lighthouse for the Lost

Previous Chapter 

From the Journal of Bour:

Eight days we have been rowing at sea. Eight days and eight nights Nireta, Tiribomba and I have been paddling home in this ocean, and I wonder when we will find land. How much further is it? I ask myself every day. It only took us half this time to row north. No, it’s not a complaint, just a curiosity of how vast this horizon is. Countless times I plunge my oar into the water, and I think to myself, “Home is merely one stroke closer.”

Our trip from Cipituez seemed like a sign, that the world was calling; I’m simply wondering what the world is calling for. The Steel Visionary lived in isolation, content to tinker in her fortress; before embarking with Tiri and Nireta, I too didn’t mind working on my own through the day. But it’s a strange peace, I suppose, being with these two on the open seas. I feel like I belong to something special. I guess you don’t realize you’ve been alone until you’re in the company of friends.

The Wall of Stars is clear tonight. It’s amazing how many stars shine bright in the heavens. How long have they burned up there? The Red Star hovers over us, brighter than any other star. The prophecies it predicted used to be plentiful in the old days, but seldom now does it pass through any significant constellations. Are the days of the Bionicle people burning out?


My eyes flickered open, the sunrise waking me from my dreams. The sun had rose just above the ocean line, its golden rays pulsating through the fish scale clouds covering the sky. They began on the horizon with an orange glow inside them, but they darkened to grey and faded to white the closer they came to the boat. I craned my neck to look at the sky directly above, the blue of the day hanging over us. 

The light unevenly shone upon the clouds, turning them into a mix of dark grey and dandelion splotching the sky. I craned my neck to see the white fluffs shifting along the air high above our boat— around the sun, an orangey yellow colored the sky, while the blue of the day hung above us. I took all of this in as I admired the pulchritude of the fish scale clouds. Rain would be coming from these clouds soon enough, I thought as I bit into a fruit. The pulchritude of the morning had passed, and now I was concerned of the day ahead.

My eyes settled on my sleeping companions when the sun became too bright. The Ga-Matoran and Toa of Fire slumbered on peacefully as I ate. The Toa of Fire… I encountered a pang of resentment as I thought of Tiri. During our journey to Cipituez, I had been told of great power in my dreams. I had dismissed it as merely a dream until Tiribomba had been transformed… I had to admit I was a bit jealous. If I was to be told of this power, why wasn’t I given it? I was happy for my friend, but things were slightly different now. We had been three Matoran on an adventure together— now it would be seen as a Toa and his two Matoran companions accompanying him on a quest. Tiri was still my friend, I knew, but it was no longer the same. What I had written in my journal last night, some of it was true… but there were thoughts like these I did not trust myself to write, lest either of the two ever took a peek in my book.

As if sensing his name in my thoughts, the Great Ruru on Tiribomba’s face began to stir, and soon he was awake. He jolted to full alertness, rocking the boat, mask whirling to all parts of the horizon, before slumping in his seat. “I really don’t think the three of us falling asleep at the same time on a boat in the open ocean is wise,” he said to me. I nodded, but also shrugged.

“What do you think everyone will say?”  asked, indicating his Toa stature. My thoughts slipped, and I silently cursed myself.

“I don’t know, but I keep wondering why,” he shrugged, suggesting that he’d been thinking like I had been for the past few days. “Toa aren’t needed around much anymore.”

“The boat is stable enough, Toa of Worry,” came the sleepy tone of the Ga-Matoran. Nireta had awakened. She rubbed her Kakama eyeholes, and yawned rather loudly for a Ga-Matoran. “Learn to trust these structures. And with the currents taking us south, we shouldn’t have to worry as much about getting home.”

“But it’s taken more time for us to row back than it did to row north,” I reminded her. “Aren’t you any bit concerned?”

“We have to be close,” she supposed. “C’mon, you two. It’ll be a good day. I can feel progress coming. We’re almost there.

“Another of your sailor feelings?” I chortled.

“Let’s tap into that feeling and get a move on,” Tiri suggested. I nodded, watching him paddle for a few strokes before joining in. We fell into a rhythm, a Toa-Matoran duo that propelled the small boat along the ocean. Mastering the beat of Tiri’s rate, I began enjoying the calm of the work. The three of us alone, on the open, boundless sea. Tiri and I reaching forward, grabbing the water with our oars, and then watching the boat slide across the ocean. Small waves would rise time to time, but we cut through them and fell back to the surface. There was something about watching the surface of the water come in front of us, but there was more behind us to grab. I closed my eyes, relinquishing this smooth feeling as the boat traveled.

“Let it run, Bour,” Nireta spoke much later. Pulling my oars in, I opened my eyes to view a drastically different scene from this morning. Clouds had collected across the sky, white fluffs now dark grey and in some places black. Thunderheads hung low, massive mountains towering above the water at dizzying apogees. I was about to say something, but an orotund thunderclap muted all conversation. From far off, a bolt of lightning sped down to meet the ocean. In response to the accelerating darkness, Tiribomba projected a number of fireballs to illuminate the boat. I took out my journal and began to read my old entries, my eyes peeking at the Toa of Fire every few lines. There were things I had wanted to write in the volume, but a voice in my head reminded me journals could be read. Minds, on the other hand, could not.

A sizzle made me look up. The rain had finally begun, a drop landing on one of the fireballs. One by one, more drops descended until the ocean was like an overflowing water bucket, growing vaster with each drop that joined it. Tiri sat on his seat, entertaining himself as his fire fought the rain. I twisted away from my companions, gazing outside the boat. All around, the rain poured heavily; I stared deep into the nocturnal downpour as the now usual thoughts ran through my head. When will we find land? Tonight I wished for sweet dirt to step on, nothing more. I was a Po-Matoran— though I loved rowing, there was not much else I liked about not being able to touch the ground.

A light erupted from the darkness, slamming into our ship. The three of us raised our hands to shield our eyes, but as quick as the light arrived, it was gone, and we were left sitting in darkness. It flashed again, and as it passed, a brief thought crossed my mind: Safety Ahead. I wasn’t even sure if the thought was my own.

“We’re close!” Nireta exclaimed. “We have to be!”

Tiribomba stood up on his seat, squinting deep into the darkness. Using his Mask of Night Vision, he looked for something between the flashes. He was silent for a few moments, and then jumped down into the boat, grasping his oars.

“Let’s row!”

The light shone upon us every few moments as we stroked toward it, battling the treacherous ocean around us. The rain splattered plain now thrashed with whitecaps, knocking waves into our boat; the rain slicked our oar shafts, our hands refusing to find a grip. We were fighting a useless battle against the sea, yet we still fiercely pulled on, determined to find this light. As the stormy waves tossed the bow high in the air, I saw Nireta’s fearful eyes watching ahead. Lightning flashed, and she cried out. At that point she gestured behind me, and the last thing I felt was the boat crashing against the rocks.


It was what kept me asleep that awoke me. I felt the pain deep in my back, the comfort of the mattress I lay on impossible to appreciate. A gasp escaped my lips as I tried to roll onto my side, but the pressure in my back was overwhelming. I gave up, sinking into the bed with a sigh as I succumbed to pain.

Hearing only the air void of sound, I reluctantly opened my eyes. A white ceiling met my upward gaze, joined by the blank wall my bed was set next to. Finding I could move my neck with only a dull throb, I turned my eyes, curious to explore where I was. A blue-grey carpet stretched over the floor to meet the trim at the bottom of the blank walls; across the room from the bed was a window, white sunlight shining in that blocked any sight that lay beyond. Behind the headstand of the bed, a doorway revealed a steel staircase that descended to the unknown.

Where was I? I thought. Come to think of it, where was here? And where were Tiribomba and Nireta? The absence of my companions brought a wave of worry, my thoughts suddenly on them. Questions began to pile in my mind, my body becoming tenser until I realized I needed to breathe. Feeling the sudden weight of my eyelids as I exhaled, I shut my eyes. Whoever brought me here will have answers. Everything will be explained.

Whether it was a moment after or hours later I could not tell. My eyes opened at the sounds of footsteps on the staircase, listening to them climb until a tall, black armored figure emerged from the doorway.

“At last, you’re awake,” he said, walking to the window. He gave a glance outside as he took something out of his pack. With a flash he shot something, and I felt a surge of energy that left me breathless.  I lay panting on the bed as he tried to help me up; I refused his assistance until it dawned on me that there was no pain in my back.  “I didn’t want to try anything until you were conscious,” he explained, setting an empty Rhotuka launcher on the edge of my bed.

“Thank you,” I puffed, sitting on the edge of the mattress. Looking at his tall figure, I blurted out, “Who are you?”

“My name is Yetoxa,” he replied, chuckling as I raised my eyebrows.  “Been a long time since you’ve seen a Vortixx?” I nodded.

“Sorry,” I apologized, rubbing my eyes.  “What is this place? Where are my friends?” Yetoxa helped me off the bed, and disappeared down the staircase.

He paced forward, straight and posed never looking back to make certain I was still following. I glanced in the multitude of rooms that branched from the hall, wondering which ones, if any, my friends lay in. Neither of them, I found out as we emerged into a chamber. It was made of tannish blocks, a staircase spiraling up the walls to chambers unknown. Carved on the circular cobblestone floor was a mask, its design vaguely familiar, its empty eyes staring towards whatever lay above. On a stone bench set against the wall sat Nireta and Tiribomba, whom quietly exchanged words. The Toa of Fire caressed his wrist, but otherwise the two looked none the worse for wear.

“Are you well?” I asked. With a nod, we clanked fists, relieved to be reunited. If jealousy had been the last thoughts of mine to Tiribomba, I could have never forgiven myself. Now hopefully I could start this day of our friendship on a better foot. As one, the three of us turned towards Yetoxa, who stood politely a distance away.

“Thank you for rescuing us,” Tiribomba spoke, bowing slightly in gratitude.

“It was the least I could do for that one,” he gestured toward Nireta with a small smile. “She has been helpful to me more times than I can keep track. I owed her and friends at least something.” Tiri and I looked from the Ga-Matoran to the Vortixx.

“This is Yetoxa,” Nireta said. “He and Peck, they are the ones who arranged our trip north.”

“And you made certain of a discovery,” he said to the two of us, eyeing Tiribomba’s Toa stature. “Fitting, that you come here first with your reports.”

“Where exactly is ‘here’?” I asked, gesturing to the floor we stood on. The Vortixx’s smile became mysterious as he pointed to a doorway.

“Follow me,” he said, “and I will tell you all there is to know.”

Outside the chambers we emerged onto the edge of a vast peninsula, as Yetoxa led us along a path. If one could look far enough, they could see a village in the distance, which I knew to be home. Up above, in the clear, midmorning sky, white, wispy clouds drifted towards the sea, hoping to merge together over the water. My eyes found the fragment of an oar shaft in the waves crashing against the rocky outcroppings along the cliff as we treaded down the path.

The house we stood before held a weather beaten look about it. White brick built up to twin tiers of decking that wrapped around the sides of the house, complimented by a widows walk near the top of the black shingled roof. Matching shutters accompanied the backdrop, eyelids to the dark windows that looked out to the water. The building was set around a tall, white tower that extended to the skies, its painted bricks boldly reflecting the wisps in the blue sky.

“The lighthouse,” I muttered. This is what we were rowing to in the night. It had always been a sight on the horizon in the village, distant and in the back of my mind.

“This is where I go when I’m not in the village or traveling,” Nireta said to us.

“This is the Lighthouse for the Lost,” Yetoxa elaborated, waving his arm toward the structure. He smiled at the expressions on our masks; we would have never thought a building like this could exist just beyond the marshes.

“He’s noble,” the Ga-Matoran chuckled to us. A weak smile came from the Vortixx.

“Lighthouse for the lost?” Tiri repeated. “Why do you call it that?”

“Because that is why I built it,” he replied. “I used to live in Utywa, if you remember back that far. But… there was nothing there for me, and Peck and I decided this would be a more appropriate role. If I couldn’t do work there, I could do something out here. Millennia ago, after the Shattering, everyone was lost in the new world. This light is to show everyone can still be found. Although the Kingdom is shattered and we are separated by the sea, we are still united.”

“How noble of you,” Tiribomba commented. “Your reasons are ones that rank.”

“It took many years to build this,” Yetoxa quietly remarked, memories flashing in his eyes. “Many years of trial and error.” Unsure of what to say, we three visitors remained silent as we followed him around the house. As he gave us a tour of the perimeter, we came to a section of the wall that was badly damaged. A long stretch of bricks along the side of the house were chipped, and in some placed completely shattered. Tools lay around the wall, tools I found surprisingly familiar.

“What happened here?” I asked Yetoxa, examining the bricks.

“The storm,” he replied, pointing to a lightning rod positioned at the top of the wall. “A stray lightning bolt must have struck this side.” His eyes flickered between us and the damaged wall, then briefly at the scattered tools. “I am in the process of repairing it, but I am… slow when it comes to bricklaying.” I smiled at his honesty, and then cast a quick glance at the Toa of Fire. It would’ve been better if I were the Toa, I thought guiltily, but I guess Tiri will have his uses.

“Fortune must be smiling upon you,” I reassured him. “For I am a bricklayer.”


As the noon heat came, it added to Tiribomba’s flames, and I didn’t think anything could be hotter. This heat dwarfed any desert I had encountered, yet I needed to stay in the heat, to be certain the bricks my friend forged came out right. I used my telescopic eyepiece to watch the heat as it hardened the baking brick. Sweat poured underneath my mask as I shaped block after block; I could’ve sworn I felt my armor soften as I endured Tiri’s blazing palms. So much power he has, I thought as I removed another brick from the makeshift kiln.

The cool breeze came as a relief as I finished the last brick. As the flames in Tiri’s palms winked out, a soft wind slowly began to blow away the stifling heat. Fresh air entered my lungs, and I could finally breathe in the sea air again. I blinked away the sweat in my eyes to see Tiribomba slumped over, drained.

“Let’s cool off down at the ocean,” he suggested. I shook my head- there was still work to be done. “I’ll be back soon, then,” he panted as he set off.

There was no rest for me after he left. I immediately went to work setting the base tier, carrying bricks from the pile and setting them align with the old wall. Mortar was applied, and I went to start the next layer, only to see Yetoxa standing ready with several bricks in hand.

“I can’t let you do this all yourself,” he said, starting the next layer. We worked together, time dragging by as we did so, yet the wall seemed to fill itself in. As bricks were passed, so did Yetoxa’s questions of home. As he listened, would smile at certain names, nodding with a distant look in his eyes.

The wall was soon finished, and as we admired our handiwork, footsteps could be heard in the dirt. We turned to see Tiribomba walking along the path from the beach, the late afternoon sky behind him. “Look who decided to show up,” I teased. “The wall is already done.”

“Without me, you wouldn’t have the bricks to build,” he retorted, holding out a bundle in his hand. “While I was down there, I found a few of our things from the boat. Your book and some of Nireta’s things were strewn along the shore.” He offered my journal, which I leafed through. The pages rippled from exposure to the sea water, but they were still salvageable. “I didn’t read it,” he assured me as I examined the pages. I nodded to him, and then turned to address Yetoxa, who was staring at the sky.

“Oh, no,” the Vortixx half moaned. He shook his head worriedly, then gestured to the lighthouse. “We must go!” Abandoning the tool- littered site, he began running towards the house. Tiribomba and I shrugged, then whisked off to catch him.

We met Nireta in the base of the tower, where she stood at the bottom of the steps, while Yetoxa was somewhere ahead, his footsteps echoing on the staircase. “Hurry!” he urgently called. With a burst of speed, we were pursuing him, sprinting as hard as we could upwards, the tannish walls of the tower blurring by. I ran along the curvature of the staircase, ahead of the others by only a few steps, and out of the corner of my eye, I could see the keeper several flights above us.

We finally rejoined the Vortixx at a landing, where we sat for a moment, dispelling our panting. Tiribomba stood slumped, with his hands on his knees, while I leaned against the wall, winded. Nireta sat on the ledge of a window that faced the ocean. Yetoxa stood silently, his eyes watching outside. The sun had drifted lower, the top of the horizon a darkening blue, which shifted to a golden yellow closer to the ocean line. 

“What are we doing up here?” Nireta asked. “You’ve never allowed me to come up here before…”

“If what you say is true, of what you found up north,” Yetoxa nearly wheezed. He too was a little winded from the climb. “Then I think it’s time you need to see this.” I looked at the Vortixx, confused, as was the Toa of Fire. What was at the top of the lighthouse? He waved his arm, and we walked up the final few steps.

It was a blank chamber. The floor was a shallow silver bowl, and the walls were a honeycomb shaped window that looked out to the horizon. From this dome we could see everything, from the edges of the ocean all the way down to the village. This is the light chamber…but where is the light source? There was no giant lens; no large candle surrounded by a complicated apparatus, only… a Toa. A lone Toa sat on the floor, in meditation. The eyes behind the Kanohi Akaku he wore were shut, and his heartlight glowed brightly. My eyes curiously studied his white and lime green armor. Not an element I recognized.

“Solek,” called Yetoxa from the door. The Toa opened his eyes slowly, weariness seeming to hang from his eyelids like bags. He stood up, his muscles flexing awkwardly as he rose, as if they were stiff. “You have visitors,” Yetoxa told him.

“Who are they?” Solek called in a dazed, slurred voice. He looked at us as if we were merely images, and not really there. “You’ve never brought visitors up here before.”

“They’re the ones Peck sent north,” Yetoxa answered. “What you saw was right. The tides are lowering, the seas are shallower.”

“Did you find out why?” Solek asked us. “I could see someone living on the island. Did they know?”

“They did not, but they have more questions to add to our pile,” Yetoxa said. Solek’s brow furrowed.

“I was not a Toa when I went north,” Tiribomba said. “I don’t know what it was, but there was something under the island. It transformed me.”

“Fire…” the strange Toa murmured. “Why do we need fire, when the seas are shallowing?”

“It was your light that brought us home,” Nireta chimed.

“I remember something, in the last storm,” Solek said. “Three beings, out on the water, and I thought, ‘safety ahead’. This must be them.” I perked my head, my interest in this Toa growing. So the thought wasn’t my own.

“Who are you?” I asked. “I heard that on the night we saw the light.”

“I am Toa Solek,” he answered, a hint of pride in his voice. “Toa of Light.”

“A Toa of Light,” Tiribomba repeated the phrase. They were a rare type of Toa, I recalled, only two of them were known to have exist. This explained his odd armor color. But as for the thoughts…

“You are confused, aren’t you,” Solek guessed. We nodded. “Long ago, when I became a Toa, I was so eager… but there was nothing for me to be eager for. It was a quiet time, and my village had no need of Toa. I heard Yetoxa was building something along the coastline, so I left my village to help him. When I saw the tower, I figured what he was doing, and I had this sudden idea, so simple… I was a Toa of Light, so why not become the light for the lighthouse? So I trained. I pushed my Toa power to its limits, and I was finally able to transform into pure light. I figured that was my destiny, to search for those lost at sea.”

“He helps around the lighthouse when he is able,” Yetoxa piped from the doorway, flashing the Toa a smile. “But the transformation costs much energy.”

“You are a great Toa,” Tiribomba spoke, awed. “You do more to protect anyone in a single night than I could in a century.” I was shocked as I heard a hint of shame came from the Toa of Fire’s lips. “But it is an honor to call you brother, nonetheless,” he added, clanking the Toa of Light’s fist. Past them, on the horizon, the golden orb had touched the sea, the sky becoming deep red and gold. Sunset.

“Solek, my friend— the sun,” Yetoxa warned, acting on my observation. He nodded and ushered the four of us out.

“It was good to meet you,” came Solek’s goodbye. “I don’t know what is going on out there, but now there is something that will help me…” With that, the sun began to sink beyond the ocean, and in response, a white beam shot from Solek’s heartlight, traveling through the window and into the distance. His body began to coruscate, then broke into particles of light. The particles condensed into a ball, and Solek ceased to be a physical being, as the Toa power within him took over. We stood on the landing, amazed by the nightly phenomenon. Our eyes averted into the settling darkness, as we were unwilling to risk blindness. Soon Yetoxa gestured, and we followed him down the staircase.

“That was amazing!” Tiribomba cried. “No Toa before had transformed themselves into their element. He is a great Toa to have done it.”

“He is indeed great,” Yetoxa agreed, feeling a surge of pride for his friend. “And you three make his sacrifice worth it. His light will be extra bright tonight, now that he knows he has found people out there. I stay up on the landing, some nights, just watching him. It never ceases to amaze me, what he has pushed himself to do.” We walked down the staircase in silence, each of us in our own thoughts about the Toa overhead. Solek’s speech was moving, and I wondered how Tiribomba was touched by it. He stood a little taller as we walked, and the way he held his palm of fire as he led us…

We reached the base of the tower once more, passing through a soft column of light that fell from Solek’s chamber that provided a small comfort in the slight chill of the evening that surrounded us. We entered a dark room, and I was blinded by shadows, until Tiri lit a fireplace. On a table, Yetoxa had food, which he offered to us to roast over the fire. We sat on the benches, staring into the fire and eating silently, wondering what Solek would find on the ocean tonight.


My awakening thought was that it had all been a dream. I had dreamt that we arrived at a lighthouse, and a Toa transformed into pure light. Was it a dream? The question echoed through my head. I lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, searching for some truth in the blankness. Was it all really real?

Yes, it was, I decided as I felt my sore arms. The muscle under the armor ached as I picked myself up, sitting on the edge of the bed. Feeling the dead weight of my limbs, it all came back to me- the wall, the sprint up the steps… no dream. Rowing one day, bricklaying the next. I thought as I headed down the steel staircase, wondering what today would bring.

Not a soul roamed the floor of the halls. I walked around the house, half curious as to where my companions rested. In each room, not a cot was disturbed; no one was found sleeping peacefully in a bed. I treaded the carpet, enjoying the silence of the morning. Where anyone could be, I did not know.

The house wasn’t as empty as it seemed, I realized as I entered the tower. Toa Solek walked down the steps from his chamber, struggling with his cane in hand. Seeing his footing unsteady, I rushed to guide him to the bench. “Thank you,” he told me as we reached the bottom. He sat down, slumping against the wall as he looked around. “I haven’t been down here in months,” he muttered. “Oh, how eager I used to be…” Turning to me, he asked, “What is your name?”

“Bour,” I replied, watching him rub his eyelids. “What brings you down here, Toa Solek?” I queried.

“From up there, I can see many things, near and far,” the Toa replied, straightening himself as he pushed himself up. “The garden needed tending. Let us go to it.” I followed him out to a clear morning sky, where the breeze blew along the path.

“Why do you all feel something is wrong?” I asked him.

“I’ve watched the oceans for centuries, millennia,” the Toa replied. “The sea does not look as it once did. The rip tides are changing drastically in ways they should not, the sea levels are lowering… and there is a new Toa.” He looked at me. “I brushed your mind when I swept past you on the boat that night. I don’t know your specific thoughts, but the feelings are easy to decipher. Your friend has a heavy burden to bear, for whatever is coming from all of this. You shouldn’t dwell too heavy on why he was chosen, and not you.” I looked at the Toa, a somewhat horrified look in my eye. But I met his gaze and nodded. I did not know the Toa too well, but I felt I could trust him on this.”

Sounds from yesterday’s construction site reached us at the garden. Yetoxa and Tiribomba must be cleaning up, I supposed. When we reached the edge of the garden bed, I gazed in to see a jungle. Weeds broke through the earth to crawl among the plants, wrapping themselves along the vines that sustained food. Solek dropped to his knees, crawling through the dirt to pick the invaders out. I followed, freeing the plants and picking ripe fruits. The garden was untangled, letting the plants breathe. Dead roots were pruned, and soon the garden was free of parasites. The soil looked clean again. With the flick of his wrist, Solek incinerated the accumulated pile, and we headed to store the food. We passed by the wall, where a fresh coat of paint had been applied. I admired the brickwork, hoping that the wall would remain erect for many years to come. The others stood on the cliffs, looking to the sea, where we joined them. If Yetoxa was surprised to see Solek out, he did not show it.

The ocean was calm, small waves arriving on the shores of the land. Sea birds flew above us, squawking loudly. A breeze reached our vantage point, displaying a sample of nature’s power. The sea seemed to be never ending. Was it? Or were there borders? Far out, almost on the horizon line, a cloud stretched further than the eye could see. The cloud was pure black, Solek reported from his Kanohi. The wisps on the sky had collected over the past few days to form the mammoth cloud, appearing like a cavalry, lined up on the battlefield and waiting for the command to charge.

“That’s a powerful storm building out there,” Tiribomba thought aloud. “Could it be stronger than the one that brought us here?”

“Infinitely,” Solek sounded grim. He looked thoughtfully at Yetoxa. “Do you suppose this place can withstand it?”

“We’ll have to see,” He replied.

“We’ll stay with you,” Nireta swore. “Protect the lighthouse from destruction. We entered this storm, and we’re not leaving until it has cleared.”

“No,” Solek denied. “We can hold down the fort here. You are needed elsewhere.” He turned and pointed to the village, where the smoke of morning fires rose into the sky. “Out there is where you need to be. Warn your neighbors, attend to your homes. Assisting the village would help us in many ways.”

“Will we have to walk there?” I worriedly asked, gesturing to the cove, where the remains of our boat still floated. The storm, even from a distance, began to strike fear in my heart.

“No, no,” Yetoxa chuckled. “Follow me, comrades.”


Yetoxa calls it the Lighthouse for the Lost- he is right. Arriving there helped me rediscover myself. Whether it be chance or fate, I’ve found as much significance in myself as in Nireta, the mapmaker, or Tiribomba, Toa of Fire. I now realize that I didn’t have to be the one picked at Cipituez; the title “Bour, Toa of Stone” was only a wish, temporary like the tide. We all have our own destinies, and I can’t wish for someone else’s.

The muscles are at a now familiar work once more. We are going to row again, in a boat kindly provided by Yetoxa. Solek warned us that if we did not help the village, home is doomed. So now we venture through the wetlands between the two places. Many intriguing creatures roam the grasses. I would like to stop and observe them for hours, but the sky reminds me of my duty to the Lighthouse. Maybe after the storm is finished, they can be studied. For now, though, it’s time to focus on protecting that small isle off of Del Vienvi…   ns-monogram1

Images Courtesy of Google Images.

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