Word Count: 506
Story: Who Is Your Hero?
“Turaga Vakama?” A small voice called out in the street.
“Yes, little one?” Turning from the doorway of the building he was exiting, the Turaga saw a young mask of a Matoran child, and across the street, on the opposite sidewalk, a small throng of Matoran.
“My little sister, she wants to tell you that you’re her biggest hero ever.” The spokes-Matoran pointed to his group of friends to a hidden Kanohi Akaku in the back of the group, ducking away shyly. “But she’s too scared to tell you,” He added in a whisper.
The Turaga of Fire smiled beneath his mask. He began crossing the street towards the group. There were at least half a dozen of them wandering around in the empty mid-morning square, since all their parents were working this time of day.
“But, uhh, Turaga?” The child hastened to catch up to his elder. “We also wanted to hear a story, if you have time.” As they reached the cluster of Matoran, their little masks bobbed up and down in agreement.
“I’ll always have time for you,” Vakama asured them, offering his beaten-armored hand to the little sister. She turned her warm orange Kanohi up to look at him, still timid, and he smiled into her soft blue eyes. “What can I do for you?”
The little girl giggled and grabbed his hand in both of hers, practicaly swinging from it as Vakama started to make his way to a carved bench. “Turaga Vakama, who is your hero?” She asked him.
Vakama sat down slowly, surprised he didn’t literally creak with age, because he suddenly felt thousands of years older. He knew exactly who his hero was. As his troop settled in around him, he picked out his words carefully.
“My hero was warrior. He was brave and strong and corageous. He saved Matoran and Turaga alike, and was loved by all. I had the privilege to meet him personally, and he showed me nothing but kindness. Unity, Duty, and Destiny were all that he lived for. I wish he was here today for you to see, he was truly great.”
“What happened to him?”
“Did he ever save you, Turaga Vakama?”
“Can we see a picture of him?”
“Did he fight off Rahi?”
“What was his name?”
Vakama closed his eyes. It hurt him to keep secrets, even if it was from these younglings, who wouldn’t understand the truth anyways. But, in a way, they already knew his hero. They already knew Toa Lhikan. He was there when they ran around with their miniature Lava Boards. He was there at the annual Lava Surfing competition. He was there in the mask of the brave Captain of the Guard. He was there every day, in Vakama’s gratitude, because if Lhikan hadn’t been there, so long ago, none of them would be living on their blessed Island Paradise. But none of this, they could know.
And because of this, Vakama had to say, “Children, why don’t I tell you another legend of Lhii?”