Five years ago...
Mazeka dove aside even as the acid blade slashed through the air where he had been standing. He could hear the angry hiss of centuries-old rock dissolving where the sword had brushed against it. A step slower and that would have been his armor.
He hit the ground and rolled, ending up back on his feet with dagger at the ready. Vultraz twirled the blade over his head, smiling. “You knew it had to come down to this, didn’t you?” said the crimson-armored Matoran. “Just the two of us, mask to mask.”
“This isn’t one of your epic fables,” Mazeka replied. “You’re a thief and a murderer, Vultraz. You killed an entire village of Matoran who never did a thing to you.”
“Except have something I wanted – an intact lava-gem, a rare find on the Tren Krom peninsula,” Vultraz replied. “They didn’t want to give it up... thought it appeased the volcano or some such thing, kept it from erupting... a few well-timed explosions and one sea of lava later, and they found out how wrong they were.”
Mazeka lunged. Vultraz sidestepped and hit his foe with the flat of his blade, burning an impression of the weapon into his armor. Mazeka stumbled toward the edge of the cliff and caught himself just in time. The entire mountain slope was lined with razor crystals, sharp enough to shred armor and tissue into ribbons.
“How many times do we have to do this?” said Vultraz. “When are you going to realize that you’re not a Toa... just some crazy villager who thinks he has to risk his neck fighting the bad guys? Go home, Mazeka. Go back to your little life, before you force me to end it.”
Mazeka scrambled to his feet, his back to the cliff. Vultraz was right – he was just a Matoran, with no elemental or mask power. Of course, Vultraz was too, but his old enemy had years of experience at lying, cheating and killing. Up until a few years past, Mazeka had just been a scholar trying to solve the mysteries of the universe. That was before Vultraz killed his mentor and stole valuable tablets containing the results of years of research. The two had clashed many times since then, but the tablets had never been found.
“Put down your weapon, old friend, and walk away,” said Vultraz.
“We were never friends!” spat Mazeka.
“Sure, we were,” Vultraz grinned. “All those happy years toiling away in our backward little village, trying not to attract Makuta Gorast’s attention. I was just the more ambitious of the two of us. I got out.”
“And you’ve been running ever since,” said Mazeka. “Time for it to stop, before you run into something even you can’t handle.”
Vultraz charged, swinging his blade... but not at Mazeka. Instead, he sliced away at the piece of rock upon which his enemy stood. It disintegrated before the acid and fell away. Mazeka fell, too, grabbing onto the ledge and hanging suspended over the razor crystals.
“I really don’t want to kill you,” Vultraz said quietly. “You’re a link to my past... a reminder of all the things I avoided becoming. But you keep getting in my way, and I can’t have that.”
Vultraz lifted the blade over his head and brought it down. Mazeka swung to the side, letting go of the ledge with one hand, and used his momentum to carry his legs up. He kicked Vultraz in the side even as that Matoran’s attack was carrying him forward. The combination sent Vultraz over the edge of the cliff. He never screamed all the long way down.
Mazeka looked down and cursed. It was impossible to spot Vultraz’s body so far below, but that was a mercy, in a way. Sliding hundreds of feet down razor crystals would leave precious little to see. He concentrated on trying to climb back up to safety before he joined his enemy in death.
A hand shod in ocean blue armor grabbed his wrist and pulled him up. It belonged to a warrior Mazeka had never seen before. She carried a chain mace and a shield and looked powerful enough to down a Takea shark with one blow. She wasn’t a Toa, he was almost certain, but he had no idea who she might be.
“I’m a... friend,” the newcomer said. “Never mind my name. I saw what happened here. You are very brave, Matoran.”
Mazeka shook his head. “Not brave. Lucky. And not even that... he died before telling me what I needed to know. Now I have to return to my village and submit myself to the justice of my people.”
The warrior shook her head. “Don’t fear. You did them a service and will be rewarded... and who knows who else you may have helped today?”
Mazeka didn’t answer, just walked away with his head down. The warrior watched him go. When he was almost out of sight, the face and form of his rescuer began to shimmer and change. In a moment, the mighty warrior had been replaced by Makuta Gorast. She looked at Mazeka, then glanced over the cliff.
“Yes, little hero,” she said, smiling wickedly. “Who knows, indeed?”