Chapter Text
Morro dashes among the crumbling pillars of what once was his home. Wu is within sight now, sitting in front of portraits, incense sticks, and lanterns.
Strangely enough, the whole thing reminds him of something. A memory from a time long gone, when Wu would attempt to train him through games. This is not so different and Morro had always excelled at hide and seek.
"An eclipse is always an omen, but is this one a sign of good...or bad?"
Then again, Wu did always find him sooner or later. Morro abandons his hiding place among the wooden pillars to stand right behind his master.
"Bad. Very bad."
Wu is pointing his staff at him with sorrow in those golden eyes and Morro hesitates. He has a choice now. To listen to Yang or to repent for his sins.
His eyes land on a familiar photo and even more familiar flowers.
Marigolds. The same flowers growing out of his chest and around his neck like a floral scarf. Even in this false body of his they are still here. He probably shouldn't have been surprised considering how the lack of lungs or a different vessel never stopped them.
He hadn't known what the orange blooms were until Garmadon had told him. He picked the one closest to a photo of his ten year old self.
"These mean grief and jealousy, you know. Fitting," he said as he examined the flower. The ones on him had a ghostly blue tint to them and this one didn't. They also meant sunshine and light and all those things Morro was not, or so Garmadon claimed.
Wu approached him, gaze locked on the damn flowers.
"How are you back, Morro?" he asked and Morro made his choice.
It was, admittedly, a little funny how the ninja reacted to him, though Wu probably wouldn't appreciate if Morro said that. Still, he allowed himself to smile as the five stared at him in an unholy fusion of anger, confusion, horror and hesitation.
He would admit he looked ridiculous. The flowers had made him a target of mockery even before they bloomed, so Morro was very used to how people reacted upon seeing the general of the cursed realm covered in what must be the brightest flowers known to mankind.
All things considered, it went surprisingly well. Though the ninja had pointed their swords at him, noone tried to actually stab him. Morro knows he would not have shown the same consideration if their roles were reversed. He said his piece avout Yang and Cole and now they were on their way to save the earth master.
"You know," Wu said, facing away from Morro as his students ran for their flying pirate ship. "Marigolds do have other meanings. They are believed to please and guide the dead."
Light of the Departed, huh? Garmadon had mentioned that too. Or maybe it had been that one raven person from Wyldness, Morro did not quite remember.
"Fine, I'm coming with you."
In the end he didn't even do that much. The winds around the floating island – which, by the way, why was it floating? How? – were too strong for the Bounty, so he had to calm them. He'd spread his arms and pleaded with the wind and his friend had listened eagerly, allowing the ship to land just in time for the ninja to see Cole making his way towards the Rift of Return.
Perhaps in a different world Morro would have asked the wind for aid and made his way towards it. This was not that world.
"Happy Day of the Departed, master," he told Wu and pressed cyclamens into the old man's hands.
Instead, Cole was the only one that went through, though he saw something at the corner of his eyes before the magic took him.
Later he woke up and got to hug his friends with marigold blooms tangled in his hair.
"Do you think the museum will want the mannequins back?"
"The only intact one is covered in flowers why would they want it?"