Chozo Lore
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Translated from Metroid Prime
This public article was written by [Deactivated User], and last updated on 1 Sep 2022, 01:13.
[comments] chozzchozt
1. A little history
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2. Chozo Lore
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?FYI...
This article is a work in progress! Check back later in case any changes have occurred.
This article is a work in progress! Check back later in case any changes have occurred.
So this is something I’ve wanted to do since Chozo’s inception. When I first came up with the idea of creating a language for the Chozo, my goal was to eventually get to a point that I could take the lore from Metroid Prime and put it “back” into the Chozo language, since every logbook scan began with the words “Chozo script translated.” Since then, “Chozo” as a language concept has expanded into several different branches as my ideas about what the Chozo culture could mean for the language has evolved, and now there are multiple different languages in the Chozo family. Despite the fact that the Chozo lore in Metroid Prime would be written in only Talloric Chozo, I’ll be putting it in both
Zebesian (OLD) and 
Talloric (whenever I work on Talloric enough for that to be feasible) just for fun. For reference, I’m taking these from the original North American release because it’s the one I played and not from the Wii Prime Trilogy release, even though I know that’s the updated version.The original text will come first, and then the Chozo text in the conscript, and finally the romanised Chozo text. Zebesian, then Talloric.
I hope you enjoy! I’m quite proud that my work has finally gotten to the point that I can do this at all. :)
Our sanctuary grows by the day. We Chozo know much of technology, but we have chosen to leave it behind on this journey. Our home here on Tallon IV will be a place of simplicity: structures hewn from the stone, bridges woven with branches, hallways caressed by pure waters. We build around the ancient and noble trees, drawing from their strength and giving them our own in return. All that is wild will flow around us here: our race will be just one more group of creatures in the knit of nature. It is our hope that such a state will bring with it greater wisdom, a greater understanding of the nature of the universe. Once our city here is complete, we will peer inward and discover the truth.
At the highest point of our city lies the fountain, a wellspring of pure water that flows throughout our civilization. It is the jewel of the Chozo, the life-giver, and yet its waters speak of a clouded future. As we come to understand the paths of time and space more clearly, we have begun to glimpse rough tatters of past and future, glittering behind reality like soft lights behind a curtain. We have seen the fountain in these glimpses, pouring darkness instead of water, and we cannot guess what the visions mean.
As we have done for millenia, we Chozo work constantly on our statuary. The statues are our sentinels: blind but ever watchful, they are and have always been, repositories for our most precious secrets and strongest powers. The crafting of each is a long and sacred process, performed only by those Chozo who have lifetimes of experience in such things. We have left these relics on planets across the solar system. Some are merely reminders: silent emblems of the Chozo that serve as icons of peace in lands that know only war. Others wield subtle strength, exerting their influence in ways beyond the understanding of mortal creatures. Still others are guardians of our secret ways, and these can be as terrible as they are beautiful. Those who respect and honor these relics will know the friendship of the Chozo. Those who deface or destroy them will know our wrath, unfettered and raw.
We Chozo are departing now, after so many years in peaceful seclusion here on Tallon IV. When we came, this place was a refuge for our spirits, a civilization built from native materials, bereft of the trappings of our technology. We were linked to the land here, kindred to the plants and animals, far away from the machines we had become so dependent on. And so we leave it now, pristine, a testament to the mortal forms we no longer need. We have drawn the veils of time and space aside, and are withdrawing beyond the illusion. But we will never forget this, the most sacred of our homes. And we will remain ever watchful.
We have returned to Tallon IV, borne here against our will by a great cataclysm from the reaches of space. A meteor came, casting a dark shadow of debris over the land with the violence of its impact. Though we perceived this from beyond space and time, it was but a curiosity: a brief flare in the universe. But the meteor brought with it corruption. A Great Poison burst forth into the land, clawing at life with such violence that we were ripped from our peaceful state and find ourselves wandering as shadows of the mortal forms we left behind, searching for why we are here.
The prophecies tell of the coming of the Worm. Born from parasites, nurtured in a poisoned womb, the Worm grows, devouring from within, until the world begins to rot. The words of the seers have come to pass, for there, in the depths of the world, the ravenous Worm lurks and feeds. From the stars it came, blighting Tallon with its Great Poison. We can but watch as the Worm grows, watch and wait. For the prophecies also speak of a great Defender, the one who delivers the world from evil. The final days draw near. Is the Newborn the Defender of which the seers spoke? We shall do all that we can to aid her, for she bears our legacy as she bears the ancient armor and weapons of our people.
The world of living things feels strange to us, we who have existed so long on the edges of time and space. It is clear now that we Chozo can never return to our dimension, not while the Great Poison reaches ever further into the planet. It is so powerful, this creeping evil, that our wills are crumbling and our minds beginning to fail. And so, before it is too late, we now make our last stand. We have begun to build a temple to contain this darkness: at its heart we will place a Cipher, a mystical lock powered by twelve Artifacts and filled with as much power as we Chozo can harness in our ethereal states. Even when we are done, it may be too late.
The cries of this dying land pulled us from our dreaming state, and now we Chozo walk as ghosts while the Great Poison sinks into the trees and waters, devouring all life. Some creatures survive, but their forms grow as twisted and evil as the force that fell from the sky. The heart of the planet will succumb soon, and so will we, even in our ghostly states. Already many Chozo have faded and passed into the unknown. The Great Poison is unlike anything we have glimpsed in this or any dimension. It eats relentlessly, worming out life wherever it blooms and corrupting what it cannot kill. It will be our undoing. Our last hope lies in the Cradle, the temple we hope might contain this abomination. It is almost complete, hovering over the impact site, the dark heart of the spreading evil. If we can finish before the last of our kind drifts into madness or death, there is a chance for this world. If we fail, we are doomed with it.
As we struggle with the Great Poison, something stirs at the edges of our vision. It is the Hatchling Samus. We feel her, across the void, as she hunts the corrupted. Will our fates again be one? As our pride shatters, will prophecy become real? When all strength wanes from the Chozo, will it be the Hatchling who fulfills our legacy? True sight eludes us, for the Poison gnaws at all vision, leaving seers blind and filled with despair. Truth's blessing may come too late.
Many Chozo have gone beyond now, and this is a mercy. Those of us who remain suffer in dimensional flux, drifting helplessly across time and space, guided by unseen and inexorable currents. The Chozo who cling to sanity fight the tide, but our minds are weakening. Soon we will all be like the Turned, Chozo who have been corrupted by the Great Poison. The Turned still hold to their Chozo forms, but their minds are black with fell intentions. Gone is their respect for life. They honor only destruction, and seek to disrupt the Artifacts holding the Great Poison at bay. All life taunts them, and they do not rest. Before long, they will be all that remain of the Chozo here.
None know if our temple, the Cradle, will prove powerful enough to contain this evil forever. How can we Chozo hope for it to remain intact when that which it guards writhes in the darkness, growing always stronger? The fate of this world rests with the gathering of Artifacts we call Cipher, but even it is not all-powerful. It is strong, yes: an enchanted whole made of twelve links. Still, it is finite in its reach, and we who guard it are slowly succumbing. When our vigilance crumbles away into madness, the Cipher will be exposed and the fate of Tallon IV will be beyond our influence.
The power of our temple has been enough to halt the spread of the poison on Tallon IV, but that which remains thrives and grows more concentrated, gnawing on itself in the dark passages beneath the planet's surface. Whether it can ever be truly destroyed is not for our eyes to see. But there is something else. We Chozo are drifting, tumbling through space and time as the Great Poison eats away at our sanity. We wake in dreams. As the veil of lunacy descends, as past and future blend and shuffle, one image appears and flickers through the landscape, wraithlike. It is the Hatchling, the Newborn, walking the path of corruption, a lone figure shining in the toxic shadows. She comes dressed for war, and her wrath is terrible. Do our eyes look backward, seeing the Hatchling as she once was? Or does she approach even now, arriving in our race's last hour, a savior clothed in machines crafted long ago by Chozo hands? Poisonous clouds drift across our vision.
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