The Unknown Son

      Lhikan Mangai did not understand why the matoran frowned so strongly upon toa relationships.  On the island he was born upon and other smaller islands the toa were always reminded of the matoran they once were. There was little formality there, as they were friends, cousins, and family members.  As toa they were honored, but never forced to live life apart from their people.  Here in Metru Nui, things were much different. This he learned much to his dismay.
      The growing whispers and rumors of Naho’s pregnancy had begun to spread.  The other toa who had caught on much quicker to city customs informed him that it had to be dealt with.  Lhikan paced about his home. Naho had told him to stay behind.  He was loathe to listen to her.  It was one of the few moments anger crossed the unusually calm fire toa’s face.  The anger was not directed at Naho, far from it. It was directed for a brief moment towards those he protected. Their thoughts and belief denying him and Naho the family they wanted.
      Lhikan rushed to the door when he heard a knocking sound, opening it, he saw one of the doctor’s assistants, wet from the rain outside. “Toa Lhikan,” she said, half bowing. “She wants you to come quickly…” Before the assistant could say anything else, the fire toa sprinted off into the night. In hindsight, he realized he should have listened to the full message, but the inner panic gave him wings as he ran.
      He opened the door to the doctor’s home someone unceremoniously. “Naho?” he asked, catching his breath. “At ease, toa.” The doctor said, smiling. “She is fine, as is your son.” Confusion clouded Lhikan’s face. “He lives? How…?” he stammered. The doctor gestured over towards the patient bed where Naho lay. “She will explain everything.”  Much more slowly now, Lhikan walked, and gently pushed the curtain aside.
      Naho looked up at him, tired and very much drained. “Lhi,” she said with a bit of smile. Lhikan looked in her arms, a small matoran baby lay there, his eyes shut tight.  “Naho…how? We thought?” He muttered, but he smiled as he stroked the child’s head. “We thought wrong, I was much further along than we realized, and just the child is a matoran, not a toa. He was so small my body barely registered him.” Tenderly, the fire toa took the boy from his mother’s arms.  He smiled down at him. “A mahiki, wasn’t that mask your father’s?” Lhikan asked. Naho nodded before adding, “He looks a mite bit more like you though.”  
      A cloud seemed to pass over Lhikan’s face, spoiling the moment of joy. “Naho, where we will he go? The matoran…he’d be the most scorned and honored child in existence…” Naho waved her hand to cut him off. “We,” she began gesturing to the doctor, “know of someone who can look after him for us. They are coming soon as well.” Lhikan sighed, the cloud barely lifting from his countenance.
      “Do we at least get a chance to name him?” He asked sadly. Naho smiled and gave him a kiss. “Of course we do. Go ahead, let us hear your ideas.” Lhikan looked at the child once more. “I think Jaller suits him very well.” He suggested.