Fnua Island

This island is stricken. A plague of violence has gripped it from its foundation. Our
people ran out our resources, and began warring over the last available land.
Contention and famine surrounded us.

Then the day came when I lost everything.

* * *

The stars faded, the great disk of the sun peeked over the calm ocean, and I rose
in the morning. My dear wife Mauatua was still asleep next to me. I carefully crept
out of bed and tiptoed over my four sleeping children on the dirt floor.

My pigs were already awake. They were thin and unhappy, unlike the pigs that I
knew from my childhood. Instead of the plump, round, breadfruit-shaped pigs my
father owned; my pigs were more shriveled and lean like taro roots. They
squawked and squabbled in their enclosure, understanding that their only feeding
would be from me in the morning.

The plants and grasses were moist and cool to the touch from last night's rain.
However, the rain made life on Fnua difficult. The soil had been over-farmed

after centuries of our people on our island. It was eroding away, our trees and
roots gradually disappearing, leaving the land more barren every year. We have
over-used our land. I looked down toward my poor taro patch. Oh, if they could
have lived under a better sun! It was then that I realized something. Oh, if my
children could have lived under a better sun! My generation would destroy our
island in our war. This island is not sustainable in the way we are using it. My
children will be left with a barren strip of land. Their generation will have to leave
into the great unknown of the ocean.

The sun came up; clear, crisp, and exciting. I usually enjoy the sunrise, but today
seemed to bring a sense of danger, and foretold something ominous. It came up
steady, smooth, and bright, but I wanted very much for it to stay down. This day
would be a terrible day: our last day.

Fnua had been split into two factions: the kea, and the 'ula. I myself tried to be
as neutral as possible, but each emperor tried to fight for the last remaining good
land. I was unwillingly part of the 'ula, and had to be on call in case of any battle
or fight.

Aheku!, someone called me by name. I spun around instinctively. It was Pe'oto.

He was the leader over my division of the armies. He ran down the hill at
breakneck speed. The kea are attacking! Assembly now!

Assembly meant that it was most imperative that the army gathers together.

Without a second to waste, I dashed inside my home and grabbed my weapons.

My family was still asleep. I quickly shook Mauatua awake.

It's assembly now! I have to leave. Tell Ha'pe [my oldest daughter] to watch over
the pigs.

Good-bye Aheku. She said gently. Let the Gods find favor in you today. She
lightly kissed my cheek. We'll see you shortly

I dutifully ran up the hill towards assembly. The 'ula warriors stood tensely beside
me. The kea were always stronger and more technologically advanced than we
were. We won our share of battles, but our luck could only hold us up so far. Every
warrior beside me knew the same thing. None wanted to say anything, but our
thoughts filled the tension.

As the last stragglers made their way up to assembly, Pe'oto stood at the front. He
seemed pained inside; troubled very deeply. On this day!, he shouted to all the
'ula, not looking at any of us, Fnua will fall. All will encounter destruction and
death. War is upon us, so deeply ingrained into our society that we cannot win.
Fnua has failed. He pulled out a sacrificial knife, one used by only the priests. It
quivered in his right hand, shaking the red feathers hanging from the pig-skin
handle. I will go before Fnua will., he said calmly. And I invite all to do the
same. He moved like lightning, and cut himself in the chest.

Pe'oto! I cried, along with a few other men, as he collapsed to the earth. No!

Fnua is for the kea to lose., he gasped to us all. We have lost. He never
moved again.

Suddenly, a vast horde of kea warriors burst through the trees. The scouts,
dressed with their white feathers, climbed quickly up the hill. There was no order
to us 'ula with our leader gone. I saw men fall to my left and right. Tapiko the
weapons master, Lukikelo the canoes builder, and Mepolo the astronomer were
hewn down like the grass beneath our feet. I held firm, and allowed my heels to
become one with the earth. Two or three kea scouts fell prey to my spear.

The next wave was even worse: the fire-branders. With lethally tipped blades to
keep us at bay, they set fire to anything they could: the grass, the trees, or even
the dead. With a cry of surprise, I chanced a look back towards our village. Each
dwelling was made of bark and thatched with reeds. They would burn like kindling
from the fire-bearers...and the kea had many men at their disposal.

Chaos was everywhere, with families fleeing their homes, and men on both sides
killing and running, while the flames began to spread. I dodged a spear head, and
looked down the hill where my home was. My body instantly lost all feeling, and
nothing mattered more. Orange heat met my eyes, with nothing beneath. Those
flames, feeling no pity for any of my neighbors...or my family. Nothing mattered
more at this moment to me, as I began to weep for my poor family. The nearest

water was almost a mile away. Had they made it safely? Could they make it
safely?

With a roar, the orange flames advanced up the hill, consuming all vegetation,
animals, and even some people in its path. The heat already bore down on my
face and into my eyes. There were ten or so kea warriors behind me, and the
merciless flames ahead. I spun around to face the enemies behind me.

May the Gods destroy you all!, I cursed at them in fury. May the Gods curse all
of Fnua! I took my shield in front of me and charged right through their line; just
like a knife through tree bark. I only had one hope. The ocean was too far away to
escape the blaze. The Priest Te'ahu was the only one on the island with a stone
house. With the cruel orange flames leaping higher and higher, and advancing on
me, I made a mad run for Te'ahu's house.

It was a small dwelling, with a wooden door and an ornately carved stone altar in
the middle; where we made our sacrifices every holiday. The altar was decorated
with great faces of Kane, Ku, and Lono; the most powerful gods of them all.
However, Te'ahu was lying on the floor, face-down. This made hardly any
emotional impact on me, as Te'ahu was hardly ever seen. As the orange-goingyellow flames billowed like the ocean outside, and the walls of the stone began to
heat up, I approached the altar. No one was allowed to pray but the Priest, but as I
may have been the last living thing in the town in that moment, I knelt before it. I
didn't know what to pray, but just knelt in desperation.

It may have been an instant, it may have been half the day, but I realized that the
walls were no longer hot to the touch. The wooden door had burned away, and I
could see outside: an alien landscape of gray powder and blackened buildings met
my eyes. As I stepped out, I saw that everything I had come to know and love was
gone for good now. Everybody, and everything was gone. I had lost everything.