Midnight

  Year 602 of the Divine Empire

  Nohea would not allow themself to sleep. They had no idea whether or not anyone was searching for the two of them, but if there were then they needed to be prepared to flee as quickly as possible. They lacked the endurance to travel by sea, so they had to find a tree hollow to hide under in the deep jungle. The ground was damp and smelled strongly of rot, and the sounds of the forest at night were frightening to one who had never left the village for long, and yet they could not help but struggle to stay awake. Now that the adrenaline of the moment had worn off, Nohea was feeling the consequences of fleeing miles across the jungle with a child in their arms. It didn’t help that the child in question let off a comforting heat in her sleep, which only further lulled her protector to slumber. They could only pray that no one would stumble across the pair, because there was no way they would be able to stay awake through dawn.

  As they woke up in the early morning, Nohea could only curse themself for a moment before lifting the still sleeping Kanoa into their arms. They set out into the jungle, hopefully in the direction of shelter. Their end goal was the village of Kālepa, which seemed the most likely to offer refuge for the two of them. The problem with that plan was that it was on the complete opposite side of the island, which meant walking there would take them straight through the center. The jungle grew denser and more dangerous the farther you got from the shore, so this wasn’t an option for an artist and a small child. A more viable option would be to stay as close to the ocean as they could without being spotted by their swimming pursuers, until they made it to the pāpaka village of Kuapo’i. It wouldn’t be the best of shelters, pāpaka were pacifistic creatures by nature and would be unwilling to harm anyone who didn’t threaten their eggs, but they disliked the people of Ho’okahi nearly as much as said people disliked everyone else. Nohea felt confident that they could find help there, assuming they could work past the language gap. Try as they might, no species could replicate the sounds of a pāpaka’s mandibles, so they would have to do their best in a game of charades. Still, it was the best plan they could come up with while worn out and sleep deprived, so it would have to do.

  Unfortunately, their initial escape had taken the pair far deeper into the jungle than would be preferred, so it would take some time to get back on track. Trudging through the foliage towards what Noahea was praying would be the beach, the artist was forced to grapple with how truly unequipped they were for this role. Carrying this child on their back was not as exhausting as they had worried, they suppose they had their Passion to thank for that, but their increased endurance did little to improve upon their complete lack of outdoorsmanship. They could scarcely count the amount of roots and vines that nearly sent them falling on their face, which only stalled their already slow pace through the mud and dense thicket. Their joints and inner legs were already beginning to throb from the insects that had managed to sneak between the gaps between their shell plates. They stumbled and tripped through the forest, and yet somehow never once allowed Kanoa, who was still sleeping while carried on their back, to slip. Was this also a form of Passion? They wondered idly through the fog of exhaustion. Nohea was no warrior, and thus knew little of the Ideals that empowered people of significance. It seemed odd that they would have that amount of care for a child they barely knew, but that could also be said in reference to their actions at the Lua’i. They had only gained power in regards to their art in the past, to the point where they were shocked at how much their endurance had been enhanced as a side effect. Their mind was consumed by these pointless wonderings, so much so that they could no longer focus on what lay before them, and yet still they did not fall. Their focus was only broken when, at long last, Kanoa began to stir.

  “Finally up, then? Last night must have really tired you out, the sun’s almost at its peak!”

  Kanoa did not respond, unsurprising given her wariness to the situation overall. She only tightened her arms around Nohea when she realized the position she was in, the heat of her anxiety tickling their back. It was an unpleasant heat, the kind that saps your strength while being too warm for comfort.

  “. . . I guess that’s fair. Well, since we have a chance to talk now, I might as well introduce myself. I’m Nohea, the best carver in Ho’okahi; and your name is. . . Kanoa, right?”

  “. . .”

  “Listen, I understand you’re confused, if not frightened, but I’m not here to hurt you, alright? I just. . . didn’t want to leave you there. You probably don’t trust me. I’d be surprised if you trusted anyone at this point, honestly. But. . . sigh, I don’t think you can go back now. As frustrating as Makaio can be, he’ll probably be far worse now that you’ve disappointed him. I’m taking us somewhere that won’t have as many expectations, or at least I hope I am. We can figure something out once we’ve arrived, but until then you’re going to have to rely on me.”

  Nohea began to ramble on about. . . well, not much of anything really. They talked about the island, mostly, naming each flower they passed by and describing their properties and meanings. When there wasn’t anything they could recognize, they spoke of the villages the two of them would soon be visiting or complained about how muggy the heat had become. Kanoa didn’t understand what this person was doing. She was used to listening to adults talk about themselves and what they wanted, but something was different this time. This Nohea, they didn’t seem interested in who she was. They didn’t even mention things like duties or blessings or responsibilities, nor did they say much about themself. Despite their constant complaining about the journey, which she had to admit was pretty unpleasant, they didn’t seem truly bothered by anything. She had to be a burden to carry, her father had always complained about how much larger she was than the other girls her age, and yet never once were any of Nohea’s complaints directed towards her. For once, she didn’t mind listening to an older person just talk and talk. Instead she found it strangely. . . relaxing? It was nice to listen to someone who was able to point out the beautiful things on their path, even when overheating and covered in grime. Surprisingly, she could feel her heat slowly fading into a subtle warmth. Loosening her grip slightly, Kanoa allowed herself to rest on the back of the one carrying her. She didn’t know when they would start expecting something of her, but it felt good to just listen to them for the time being. For the first time in years, she was content.

  As Nohea felt their companion’s tension finally release, they too started to relax. This had been a point of anxiety, as they didn’t have much experience dealing with children and Kanoa seemed like she would be difficult to approach. It would likely be a long time before she could truly trust them, but they were willing to accept that. Nothing worth doing comes without effort after all, and they were prepared to take however much time would be needed to bridge the gap between them. Maybe finding some friends for her would help? She didn’t seem like the type to reach out on her own. As they truly allowed themself to consider caring for this child, a new sort of strength began to fill their limbs. A smirk began to curve up the side of their mouth, as they could feel their Passion finally expand beyond their artistic interests.

  It took a lot more walking, so much so that Nohea could barely keep themself moving, but in the early afternoon they finally managed to reach the coastline. They had no idea how they had managed to get so far into the jungle the night before; adrenaline was a truly terrifying thing. Regardless, they lowered their back to allow Kanoa onto the ground. The child scanned the surrounding area as her ride collapsed onto a nearby log in exhaustion. They were about a hundred yards from the shore, which was necessary when fleeing a race that moves quicker in the water than on land. Surrounded by trees and the sounds of insects and crashing waves, she takes a long moment to take in the world around her. The Lua’i last night had been the first time she had left that house since the day she was born. Now she was farther from the village than most there ever had, and was struggling to take in the sights that she had only seen from a distance before. The jungles covering the islands of āina Hānau were a kaleidoscope of colors and sounds, with all sorts of greenery and flowers in any direction you could look. She could only stare with awe at the sights around her, only briefly distracted by the horrid insects that unfortunately infested the tropics. The two of them sat in silence for quite some time, taking in the surroundings and the situation they now found themselves in. This silence was broken only by a faint growling that filled the clearing.

  “. . . Was that you, Kanoa?”

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  She nods sheepishly. It had been a while since her last meal, after all.

  “Heh. Alright, let’s see if we can find something to eat.”

  While Nohea was no survivalist, most of the berries and vegetables they ate were traded for from people who had found them in the jungle. They could more or less remember what those plants looked like, so hopefully it wouldn’t be too difficult to find them. The two made their way into a denser part of the jungle, searching the ground and any bushes they could find for berries and rooted plants that they knew weren’t poisonous. After a few minutes of searching, they stumbled across some leaves sticking out of the ground which Nohea was pretty certain could be pulled up along with an edible tuber. They weren’t particularly fond of it, but it probably wouldn’t kill them. They kneeled down to try and pull it up, giving the plant a few good tugs before freezing, loosening their grip, and whispering to Kanoa.

  “Stop. Stop moving and be very, very quiet.”

  As the child next to them stilled herself, Nohea surveyed the area around them. The foliage around here was in the form of large-leafed plants, making it very difficult to see anything more than a few feet away from them. Still, they could have sworn they saw something move. Calming their breathing, they focused their Passion into their eyes, using the only technique they had ever bothered to develop: Eye for Detail. The technique pulled from their love of natural beauty, enhancing the colors they could see and exaggerating any contrast to an unrealistic degree. They had created it to make it easier to see the subtleties in the nature that inspired their carvings, but in a pinch it might make it easier to spot a predator that relied on camouflage. And spot it they did, as about thirty feet away from the pair they noticed something odd on the bark of a tree. Where most may have seen a slight deformity on the trunk, Nohea would clearly see a dark brown carapace and long, catlike claws allowing the creature to hold on. They cursed under their breath, as even they could identify a pilikua nui. These beasts resemble civets in shape, though they were the size of lions and bore spiked carapaces on their backs. They were strong and fast, a manageable threat for a trained hunter. Unfortunately, they were also ambush predators that could drag a man away from his hunting party before anyone could possibly react. Thought to be the cursed creations of the dark god Pō’ele Hakahaka, these monsters were the boogeymen for young kālai. And now Nohea was making direct eye contact with one.

  Realizing that it had been seen, the pilikua nui unhooked itself from the tree and landed on the ground with a growl. Nohea could only watch as their fear locked their feet in place. In a split second, they could feel two small arms wrap around them as a shimmer began to distort the air. They looked back for a brief moment as they saw Kanoa, trembling fiercely, clinging onto them as her heat of dread shrouded their presence with a haze. The beast delayed its pounce as it saw its prey’s image become indistinct and slightly transparent. There were a handful of seconds where neither party moved, uncertain of what would happen next. Nohea was the first to act, as they drew their carving knife from their belt and, in a move that could easily be described as either brave or suicidal, launched themself towards the beast. With speed fueled with adrenaline they slashed wildly, putting a gouge into their opponent’s lower jaw. The pilikua nui, to its credit, saw their prey appear out of the heat haze with a remarkable violence and wisely decided that this wasn’t worth the risk. Yowling, it leaped into the underbrush and out of sight.

  As Nohea collapsed for the second time this day, this time from released tension instead of exhaustion, Kanoa was once again subjected to the whims of her goddess.

  “Ahahaha! I’m starting to like this new guardian of yours! Though I must admit to some disappointment. . . What happened to that rage of yours last night? For a moment I thought you a worthy champion, but there you were, clutching onto the legs of the first person to treat you like an individual. Do you think they’ll be a replacement for that fool who called himself your father?”

  “I don’t know. . . they’re. . . nice. And comfortable.”

  “Of course they are, that’s the problem. Are you just going to settle down? Forget the life you used to live and forgive the fools who trapped you? Do you not seek vengeance against the bastards that dared to use my name to harm you?”

  “I. . . don’t want to be angry. Father was always angry, and I don’t want to be like him. Nohea doesn’t seem mad at him, and I’d like to be happy like them.”

  “Sigh, I keep forgetting how naive young ones like you can be. Probably doesn’t help that those fools squeezed all the passion out of you. . . I suppose that artist could help you with that, at least. Fine, then, have it your way. You’ll be forced to fight soon enough anyways. Regardless, keep trying to use that heat of yours. I’m sure you’ve already started to realize how useful it can be if properly utilized.”

  Kanoa opened her hand, looking at the slight haze from what remained of her dread. She had been helpful, hadn’t she? “Alright, I’ll be better.”

  “Good. Well, you’d better get back to the real world now, it seems they’ve just about calmed down.”

  “. . . Huh?”

  “Is something the matter?”

  Kanoa startled as she looked up and saw Nohea crouched in front of her, looking concerned.

  “You were muttering something to yourself. Is everything all right?”

  “. . . fine.”

  “What?”

  “I’m fine. Just. . .”

  The fear of the moment finally catching up to her, tears start welling up in Kanoa’s eyes. It was an odd sensation, as she hadn’t truly cried since she was a baby. Seeing this, Nohea calmly scoops her up into their arms.

  “I know you’re still hungry, but why don’t we find food somewhere else? It would probably be best if we got away from here.”

  “. . . Alright.”

  Lifting her into their shoulders once more, the artist continued to trod through the forest. It seemed they didn’t have much of a choice any more. No matter what happened, they would make sure this child would never have to be afraid again.

  —

  Present Day

  “That goddess gives me a bad feeling. . . Somus, do you know anything about her?”

  “Only what rumors I have heard from wandering spirits. She was once supposedly a member of the Divine Court, but was exiled for her love of chaos.”

  “. . . Chaos?”

  “War. Destruction. Insurrections. They say she can only be entertained when watching conflict of some kind. While she wouldn’t be the most sadistic in the Court, her exile came from her. . . Indiscretion.”

  “So she attacked the mortal plane?”

  “Earthquakes are one of her authorities. She used them to cause some famines to drive a pair of empires into a war.”

  “Oh dear. . . and she’s one of Kanoa’s patrons?”

  “One can only hope that her younger self was less easily influenced than most children.”

  “Or simply had a selection of better influences to rely on.”

  “Hmph. In that regard, perhaps she was quite fortunate. . .”