[center][h3][color=green]Lewa[/color][/h3]
[b]Le-wahi Wilderness[/b][/center]

To some, the vast, stony expanses of Po-wahi might impart a sense of majestic grandeur, making one feel small in the shadows of monoliths that stood, weathering the desert sands, since times immemorial. The trackless snowfields and icy crystal spires of Ko-wahi, each radiant and perfectly unique as the snowflakes that dusted them, weren’t without their charms. The volcanoes and lava flows of Ta-wahi and the unfathomably vast depths of Onu-wahi were truly awe-inspiring. And who could ever summon up distaste for the gorgeous, sparkling coasts and bays of Ga-wahi, where waters teeming with life broke against the idyllic shores in a ceaseless, soothing lullaby? But to Lewa, there was no land more breathtakingly beautiful than his home, the jungled southernmost region on the island of Mata Nui, Le-wahi.

What’s not to like about it, after all? The endless sea of verdant green, a vast tapestry of countless species, all dancing to the whisper of the wind and the heartbeat of mother nature. The prospect of boundless discovery, be it new species of plant or animal, or behaviors of creatures never before seen, or even something as mundane as an interesting fruit or mushroom. With that, of course, came the guarantee of adventure: few pathways and signposts could be found in this pristine landscape, meaning that the intrepid explorer could enjoy getting lost time and time again. So too could new perils be found around every corner, creating an endless smorgasbord of thrills. Most Le-matoran would never venture too far from the safety of Le-koro, so when it came to charting the unknown, Lewa really had the run of the place. And yet, perhaps most beautifully of all, being in the jungle meant that he was never really alone.

For a few minutes now Lewa had been sitting on the edge of a forested cliff, reclining against the gnarled roots of an old tree that stood on the precipice. With his hands laid behind his head he watched the dance of Gukko Birds over the jungle, appreciating their display. These two seemed to be males butting heads over territory, and though some might dismiss them as mere Rahi, these birds fought like seasoned swordfighters. On four long, slender, bladelike wings apiece that beat with the speed of a dragonfly’s, they maneuvered around one another with unparalleled agility, testing one another with thrusts and swipes of beaks like giant rapiers. Though both fought with skill, the larger one fought with the acuity of a veteran, and before long he managed to clip his rival’s wings. The challenger darted away and disappeared into the leaves below, bringing Lewa’s gaze out of the glorious sky and to a stretch of terrain ruined and rendered uninhabitable by vast amounts of acid.

Despite the distant birdsong and the gentle brush of leaves in the wind, he couldn’t help but sigh, his good mood soured somewhat by the bleak reminder. So far the Bohrok hadn’t been able to obliterate Le-wahi’s natural beauty, but they had certainly tried. The swarm was insatiable, unrelenting. They rampaged across every region of Mata Nui, sowing destruction in their wake, but nowhere did their unthinking cruelty hurt Lewa more than here. Entire swaths of the jungle had been smashed into pulp or melted into slag as the vile Lehvak crawled from the woodwork to assail Le-koro, time and time again. The near-constant fighting made him all the more grateful for brief moments like these, where he could catch his breath and cherish the miracle of life that he was fighting for in the first place.

Yet he couldn’t relax forever. Not when he had many kios left to patrol.

Lewa rose to his feet, one hand laid against the trunk of the ancient tree for support. He brushed a couple twigs and leaves off his armor, made sure he was ready to roll, and finally picked up his axe from where he’d laid it. His eyes lingered on the weapon for a moment as he hefted it. Some might think it a strange weapon for a hero and a protector of nature, but the law of the jungle demanded that one kill or be killed. Death was a quintessential part of the cycle of life, and as many Bohrok had already learned, the Spirit of Air would not hesitate to cut down anything that threatened this land’s precious peace. Lewa placed his axe on his back, swung himself around the tree, and resumed his patrol.

Within a few minutes, however, the jungle filled with a new sound. The steady beat of many powerful drums, played in sync and to a very specific rhythm, reached Lewa all the way from Le-koro. Each rhythm represented a message, and Lewa knew this one well. It wasn’t a Bohrok attack, thank Mata Nui, but it told Lewa that he needed to return. Without delay the toa set off at a run, building up speed to leap into the trees for speedy travel. But he didn’t get far. Almost immediately he slammed into an invisible barrier that sent him reeling, completely thrown for a loop. “What in the?” One hand on his mask, he tentatively reached out a hand and confirmed the presence of an unseen obstacle that rebuffed even a concerted effort to break through. “Some kind of air-wall?” Only when he looked down did he notice some kind of energy welling up beneath him, of a kind he couldn’t for the life of him identify. “A trap! But how!? Who!?” He looked in every direction for the culprit, every fiber of his being filled with the sense that something bad was happening. But it was to no avail. With an anguished cry, Lewa threw himself against the wall in the direction of the Le-koro drums. “Friends! I’m coming, don’t worry! I’m-!”

[hr]

The light that engulfed Lewa receded slowly, leaving him stunned, dazed, and confused. When he regained his sight, however, he felt even worse. Rather than the lush Le-wahi wilds, he found himself confronted with the interior of a stone building, cluttered with furniture. That alone told him that he was far from home; even if Turaga Matau somehow brought him home instantly through some unknown power, Le-koro housed no structures like this; the treetop village built with nothing other than wood. Yet daylight poured through the broken roof, so this couldn’t be Onu-koro, either. The atmosphere in this place reminded him a little of the Suva shrine in Le-koro, but even the faintest traces of familiarity vanished when Lewa’s baffled gaze landed upon the individuals who’d come here before him.

“Mata Nui!” His jaw just about hit the ground when he realized the things he was looking at were living beings. Living [i]people[/i]. He’d seen some odd things throughout his adventures so far, but these beings went beyond anything Lewa could have imagined in his wildest dreams. Towering over most of them was nothing new, since most Matoran stood at half his height, but that was about where the common ground came to an end. Their bodies featured strange, smooth, pale coatings that overlaid and disguised their inner workings, those outer layers themselves also covered by garments of woven fabric. In his world, only Turaga wore such ceremonial vestments, but here there was such variety. At least one of them possessed metal armor at least. At first he thought their masks incredibly expressive, but it didn’t take a genius to realize that they were masks at all. They were [i]faces[/i]. Displaying one’s face was an unthinkable taboo; after all it was the masks, not the identical, featureless metal plates beneath them, that made toa and matoran who they really were. One of them did seem to be wearing a mask, but it covered his face only in part. Those faces, though…they were all completely unique. Somehow, they were more incredible -more alive- than most anything Lewa had ever seen.

Overcome with shock and wonderment at the utterly alien creatures he’d been faced with, Lewa could do little more than gawk for a few moments. Some of them spoke, superficially confirming intelligence on par with the people of Mata Nui and also helping Lewa to identify their genders, since he was totally at a loss otherwise. They seemed to be confused. At least Lewa wasn’t the only one. “This is incredible,” he breathed. “Unthinkable. Like something out of a dream. Or maybe a nightmare. What [i]is[/i] this…?”

After a moment though, something happened that he could begin to understand. A hail of arrows tore into the bizarre scene. Some kind of attack? At the moment Lewa understood nothing, but if he or these small, helpless-looking, fleshy creatures were in danger, he couldn’t just stand there. Narrowing his eyes, the toa unslung his axe and readied himself for action, his mind still racing as it tried and failed to make sense of the situation.