THE WAKING GODS

THE WAKING GODS, by D.H. Rowe, with art by Simon Walpole

 

The jungle island of Iakala pierced the ocean. At its highest point a colossal structure rose above the canopy. The native people of the island called this the Tomb of the Giant Kings, as it was said to house the remains of the first kings of Iakala, giant men who stood 15 feet tall. Such legends suggested these kings built the structure, as only men of their great size could hoist the massive boulders which formed the construct. In total the structure was taller than the largest whale was long, and wider than even some islands he had sailed to. Wrapped around this building was a similarly magnificent serpent, whose body was so thick it made the surrounding trees look like twigs.

Hekili soared across the sea on his vessel, the crab claw sail, fashioned of pandanu leaves, pulling him forward at great speeds. He could see the snake’s monstrous head surveying the island below. It appeared to Hekili as if the serpent gazed directly upon him.

And no wonder, for his ship could not have been a common sight for the great beast. The neighboring islands were understandably wary of Iakala, and would make great pains to plot their navigation courses far away from the treacherous isle. It was their fear which drove Hekili to search out this land.

Drawing nearer to his destination, Hekili noted two men patrolling the shore. He could not tell yet whether they were fishermen or hostile warriors. He shifted the angle of his steering paddle so he would land a sizable distance away from these mysterious men, giving himself ample time to prepare.

The two canoes of his ship sliced through the white sand of the Iakala shore. He kept his eyes trained down the beach, watching as the two men ran towards him. As Hekili finished pulling to land, he grabbed his totokia, the beaked wooden war club of his people, and leapt from his ship’s deck. As a precaution he lifted his totokia and readied himself for battle, until he saw the men more clearly.

They carried no weapons, and one of them was very old, judging by his crown of grey hair and his sagging skin. These two would make for very poor warriors, looking more fit to be fishermen.

“Why have you come here?” the younger man asked, waving his arms. “Are you some mad lost soul? Did you not see the great serpent when you came near us?”

To his side the older man was silent, looking upon Hekili, his careful gaze stopping at the bizarre weapon in his hands.

“You think me blind, boy? I saw the creature just fine,” Hekili answered.

“Then why did you come ashore?”

“Quiet, Walaki’i,” the older man spoke at last, and the younger man looked incredulously at him. “You, warrior, have you come here to rid us of the beast?”

“Rid us of the beast? What could this man do against that monster?”

“Hold your tongue, son,” the old man said as he turned to face Hekili. “Strange man, who are you?”

“I am Hekili, he who glides along the sea, the most famed warrior of my people.”

“Most famed? You don’t even have any tatau,” Walaki’i exclaimed, pulling up his skirt to show the tatau which decorated his own leg. He then pointed to the old man, who was expectedly far more decorated, with a turtle on his chest being most prominently displayed.

“Where I am from tatau are reserved for the women,” Hekili said, to which the young man scoffed in response.

“Your men are weak, then,” the boy said, and Hekili merely smiled.

“Walaki’i,” the old man said, dragging the name out, causing the young man to bite his tongue. The old man turned to Hekili. “It is true that you have no markings to tell us of your supposed deeds.”

“And so you are right to doubt me. But know this, I have faced greater foes than the serpent which sits atop your island, and I have emerged victorious.”

“What ‘greater foes’ might those be?” the old man asked. “You speak rather vaguely.”

“The likes of which no other man living has seen.”

“You still do not speak clearly.”

“If I spoke any clearer, my tales would beggar belief.”

“What could you tell us that we have not now seen the equal of? Tell us whatever you will.”

“A giant man, crowned with a bed of coral, with great shark-like teeth, who had eight tentacles that extended out where his legs should have been. Ah, yes, that battle was surely among my most grand. I still have the tooth I ripped from its mouth.”

The older man nodded, and all the while as the two had been talking Walaki’i was won over by the grand showboating of the warrior.

“Very well, if you truly have faced such a creature, then perhaps you can rescue us. Come, we will take you to our chief,” the older man said as he beckoned Hekili to follow.

“One moment, allow me to grab my spear as well before we set out,” Hekili said, before hoisting himself onto his ship’s deck and collecting his feathered spear. The group set off, with the older man leading the way.

Walaki’i, for his part, walked alongside the other two pestering Hekili, inquiring about his adventures and deeds, which Hekili was all too happy to bombastically recount.

“And the big old brute knocks me off the ship, and I’m stuck there, in the ocean, watching as he sails away on my boat. So I start swimming forward, pulling myself through the sea, but even with all my strength I am no match for my wind-carried ship, which now is but a dot squeezing between the crevice where the sky meets the sea,” Hekili said.

“So how’d you survive? Did you swim all the way to land,” Walaki’i asked.

“While that would have been quite the feat itself, no. Instead I was interrupted in my struggles by the cackling of dolphins. That’s when I saw their back fins cutting through the ocean waves, so I heave myself forward and manage to grab hold of one. Now I’m wrestling against this fierce, beautiful animal, which is lashing all about trying to toss me off. My muscles are straining and I’m trying to maneuver myself so I’m straddling it. Listen, boy, for I will tell you now I have met no foe more ferocious than that dolphin, but like all other foes, I managed to conquer it, though it dragged me through the depths of the ocean and tried as it might to ram me against corral and rock alike.

“At long last I rode it out in search of my ship, and when I found that fool who had knocked me off,” Hekili chuckled. “The face he made as he saw me on that dolphin,” Hekili trailed off, bursting into laughter. Walaki’i stared at him enthralled. His father, the old man, turned to them.

“Great hero, I ask that you not judge our people too harshly. We were once proud warriors, but we have since lost our will. You see, the great serpent up there, since arriving, has demanded we sacrifice one of our own each month. We sent all our best warriors to fight it off, including Walaki’i’s birth father, but all were shamefully killed by the monster.”

“There was no shame in their death, old man,” Hekili said. “They earned their death in glorious combat. They stood strong and sturdy like the turtle which glides through the sea. I will honor them with my kill.”

As the group entered the village they were met with a strange silence. The people of the town, who had been rather downtrodden, going about their daily tasks with sulking gaits, were now all facing, with pitying curiosity, at the stranger who swaggered in.

On his head he wore a spined fish as a helmet and he bared his chest, except for a necklace of fishbones. Below that he wore a warrior’s skirt decorated with intricate geometric designs. Notably Hekili was leaner than many of the Iakalans around, though they were mainly women. Even the younger man, Walaki’i, already had developed broader shoulders than Hekili.

One of the town’s women, who seemed a similar age to Walaki’i, approached the three of them, donning a solemn smile.

“That’s one strange fish you caught for us, Walaki’i,” she said, addressing the younger man, who chuckled in response. She turned to Hekili. “Who are you, stranger?”

“An honored hero from a distant land,” Walaki’i said.

“Or so he claims,” the woman bit back, dismissive. She looked at Hekili, eyebrow raised. “You have not come here to try your hand at slaying the serpent have you?” the woman asked, to which Hekili nodded back. “You are a madman!”

“I have been called as much before,” Hekili said.

“I’d almost say I like you, but I’d rather not get attached to a dead man,” the woman said and Hekili gave a big bellied laugh. “So I take it you are on your way to talk to the chief?”

“That we are,” the older man said. “Though, Pania, would you mind accompanying us? This man here is a stranger to our island after all.”

“Why not?” the young woman shrugged, still wearing that downcast smile.

The group approached a large wooden gate, decorated with ornate carvings. An ancestral figurine presided atop the gate’s peak, peering stoically down at Hekili. Past this gate was a wide open area, where one singular structure stood. This structure bore similar designs, and it too had a statue sitting atop its highest point, this one with penetrating blue eyes which glimmered in the sunlight. Its face carved to signify the tattoos of a chieftain and its mouth hung open, with a large tongue protruding out in violent mockery.

At the entrance of the structure a group of women and a tall male warrior stood around a heavily tattooed man, who rose as he saw the approaching party.

Hekili and his entourage stopped at the gateway as the tall warrior readied his spear, looking to the tattooed man. The tattooed man nodded at the warrior, who proceeded to grab a branch which had been laying on the ground, which he placed in his own skirt.

“Are you aware of this greeting?” the old man whispered.

“Worry not, I know what to do,” Hekili said as the warrior approached with his spear pointed toward Hekili. The warrior stopped several paces away from the group, waiting.

Whirling his spear around, the warrior fiercely displayed his martial prowess. He ended his performance with his spear at the ready, holding it with one hand and resting the wood below the spearhead on his forearm, the weapon pointed toward Hekili. With his free hand he carefully pulled the branch from his skirt and kneeled, placing the branch on the ground in front of him. He took a few paces back, adopting a different battle stance with each step, before halting his retreat several feet away. Hekili and Pania approached and Hekili took the branch before backing away toward the gate again.

At this point one of the women at the entrance of the building began chanting. Hekili and Pania proceeded forward as Pania responded to the woman with her own chant. As they approached, the warrior backed away, pointing the spear toward them all the while until he reached the entrance and rested, spear at his side. At this point the tattooed man began to speak.

“Welcome to Iakala, stranger. I wish that I might have welcomed you during more fortunate times, but, alas, here we stand, a broken people plagued by forces far beyond our ability to stand firm against” The man began. “I am Kamaka, the newly named chief of these people after the horrific fate that befell my brother. I am sure you are aware of what monster assails us, for it peers above the canopy and makes its presence known to any wandering vessels who dare come near. I can only assume that you come as a messenger of some warrior people who seek to liberate us from our oppressor so that we can achieve our promised greatness?”

“Greetings, Kamaka, I am afraid that I come not as a messenger of some greater force, but as a lone warrior, though I do seek to accomplish that same task,” Hekili said. “I am Hekili, he who soars across the sea on the backs of dolphins, descendant of the great hero, Tuilakemba, and I swear upon my esteemed ancestors that I will rid you of this beast.”

“Hekili, I do not aim to disrespect you, nor do I doubt your determination, but this beast cannot be defeated by one mere man, nor even, would I say, a hundred men.”

“I tell you now, I am worth more than a hundred men,” Hekili said. “My feats are as great as they are numerous, and I will yet add to them.”

“Very well, if you find yourself so eager to join with your ancestors then I will not deter you. Just know if you are to go you must go alone. My people are far too diminished to send any more to their doom.”

“I would not have asked for anything but.”

“Then you have my blessing. May your ancestors watch over you,” Kamaka said before waving Hekili forward.

Hekili approached him and planted his forehead on Kamaka’s as they shared a sacred breath.

“By nightfall you shall be free,” Hekili said.

“I can only hope it will be so, for the sake of my people.”

 

And so after receiving short well wishes from the chief and the others, Hekili set out from the village, checking the sun to see how much time he had to fulfill his promise. The sun was now reaching its utmost point in the sky, indicating that it was midday. That should give him ample time, he thought to himself as started the climb up the wild mountain.

As he made his way up, Hekili noted that, even for a lightly inhabited island, there seemed to be an abundance of wildlife, and, most particularly, birds. The jungle rang with the calls of thousands of birds, each one sounding distinct.

Looking up he saw the branches overrun with perched birds. Bizarrely, Hekili felt they seemed to be watching him.

He shook the thoughts from his mind as he heard the loud sound of branches snapping and trees creaking. The sound came from a little way ahead of him, though it was hard to precisely judge the distance. He adopted a crouched stance, holstering his totokia in his skirt and flipping his spear off his shoulder and into his hands. He made his way forward, careful not to make too much sound.

As he neared a clearing he halted, still hiding in the underbrush of the jungle. He noted the birds were now all behind him, their calls much quieter. Looking ahead he saw not the structure, but the great, scaled girth of the serpent coiled at the end of the clearing.

He slowly drew his gaze upwards, seeing each level of the massive coiled snake, and it was only between the fourth or fifth level that he could finally make out any part of the tomb, and in this area the megalithic stones seemed to have been squeezed so tight they were either cracking or crushed into dust. Drawing his gaze yet higher he saw the head of the serpent, the size of which alone was almost as large as a warship. To his shock the snake was looking right at him, through the leaves and branches he thought concealed him.

“I know you are here,” the great beast bellowed out in a horrible hiss, each word dripping out methodically, sounding, to the human ear, malicious. “The woods told me of your coming. Come now, out into the open, hero. There is no use in hiding. I can smell you on the air.”

Its forked tongue flickered out upon the conclusion of its rumblings. Hekili, not one easily shaken, was disturbed by the beast’s words. He could still feel the reverberations rattling through his body. He crept forward, rising out of his crouched stance and preparing himself for combat.

“There you are, Hekili,” the serpent said, and Hekili was once again taken aback at its mention of his name.

“How do you know of me, creature?” Hekili asked, mustering up his courage in defiance of the formidable monster.

“You have made yourself quite known,” the serpent said. “And I like to know much. It is no wonder.”

“So you know of my many deeds. Do you then know why I am here?”

“I do” the serpent said, as it began to uncoil itself slightly.

“Then let us be done with it,” Hekili shouted as the serpent descended its head, bringing itself as level as it could to Hekili. Its eyes were still many feet higher than his meager height reached, and so it still aimed its head downward at him.

“Stay your weapon a moment,” the snake said, its words pleading almost, in a strangely threatening way. “Surely you can afford me this courtesy. We are both children of Degei after all.”

The mention of the father god of his people gave Hekili pause, and he relaxed his battle stance a little, though he still stood at the ready should this be some distraction or game.

“You are a child of Degei?”

“You see my form here, do you not?” The serpent asked. “And yet you doubt what I say is true? I count myself among the eldest of his children, and it is I who was born most in his image.”

This primordial creature was far beyond what Hekili had first gauged. A beast was a beast, and all beasts could be slain, however large and ferocious they may be. The direct child of a god, and the most powerful god of his people at that, well, that was quite something else. At this revelation Hekili was at last fearful. Still, he was not one to back down from a challenge, however insurmountable. If he should die here, at least he could die knowing it was nothing less than a god who had brought him to his final end.

“Child of Degei or not, you must still yet die for the sufferings you have inflicted on the people of this island. I have sworn to rid them of you.”

“Be quiet a moment and listen, hero,” the serpent said, the slow, deep rumblings turning sharp. This rebuke silenced Hekili. “I do not wish to cause these people to suffer.”

“Yet you demand sacrifice, and kill all their men,” Hekili shouted back, interrupting the serpent in between its words.

“Silence,” the serpent rumbled, emphasizing its point by whipping out its tail against a large tree, instantly splitting it in two with a loud crack. “I do not demand the sacrifices for my pleasure. I ask for them to guarantee their safety.”

Hekili scowled at this.

“As for the men, it was not I who killed them. Look around, Hekili. Do you not see the clearing, absent of any bodies?” the serpent asked, prompting Hekili to look around at his surroundings, which, true to the serpent’s words, was an empty grass clearing, without even a sign of battle or disturbance. “And no, I did not eat them. You humans think too much of yourselves. You’re far too small to sate me.”

“I am here to protect the people, not oppress them,” the serpent continued. “For in these tombs lies a beast who would devour their village whole in one night. That is why I coil around this tomb, so I might cut off the entrance and keep the creature inside.”

“As to the sacrifices, those I must ask for to keep the creature from going ravenous, for even as hard as my scales might be, they would tear right through me in their cravings for flesh.”

“The warriors then were killed in those caves by this creature?” Hekili asked.

“Yes,” the snake simply affirmed. “And I would give you the same task I gave those who came before you. Go into the depths and slay the beast which lurks inside before the setting of the sun.

“I must, however, make one more request of you, honored child of Degei. There is another being hidden away for the past millennia, an evil god of a race long gone. I will require of you his death if you wish this island rid of me. Now go, Hekili, and know should you not return before dusk I shall shut the way, and you shall find yourself another resident of these tombs.”

At this the serpent slowly began to shift its body, and a loud grinding sound echoed throughout the island, as stones were crushed, shifted, and reduced to dust. After a time, the serpent’s body in front of the entrance began to narrow, till at last Hekili saw its end, revealing the doorway to the tombs.

“If I might ask, serpent, why not destroy the doorway?” Hekili asked.

“The creature residing within these caverns would not be deterred by mere stone, Hekili, and without sacrifices to satiate itself on, it would burrow out with ease,” the snake said.

“And, what about tabu, snake, is this not a sacred place, for which I am forbidden entry?”

“That is true, what you say, but it is forbidden by the very god you seek to slay. Still, I give you my blessing, though know it will not protect you from the wrath of that which lurks within.”

“I see. Very well, I shall go down, but know this, snake, if this be some trick, treachery, or trap, I will come back for you, bearing death, and that death will not be swift.”

The snake flickered its tongue out in response as Hekili went toward the darkened doorway. He was sure this great gate had once featured many carvings and decorations, but it was clear those had been ground away by the snake.  Still, it was imposing in its size, stretching far above him. As he made his way past the doorway, and further into the decrepit tomb, Hekili noticed that, though the light died behind him, the tombs were not shrouded wholly in darkness. There seemed a faint blue glow, and he could not tell if the very air itself was glowing, or if the light emanated from further within.

Going deeper, Hekili saw that carvings started to appear on the walls, strange in their design, and unlike any he had seen in his travels. Rather than the stylized depictions commonly found among the art of islanders, these were rather simple. Many of the figures on the walls appeared to be rather uninspired representations of humans, faceless, only lines portraying torso and limbs. One figure, however, stood out, and reappeared many times along the walls. It always appeared far larger than all the others, and had a series of curved lines surrounding it and emanating forth from its outstretched arms. Unlike the other figures which appeared, this one did have a face, and the face was the only thing among all the carvings of the wall that was familiar to Hekili, and yet, in spite of its familiarity, it also felt the most alien.

Its mouth hung open, with a long, slender tongue protruding down, past triangles representing teeth, wrapping around the right half of its jaw, which was rather slender in comparison to the rest of the head. Its nose was rounded and had a barely perceptible bridge, hidden as it was behind pronounced nostrils. Above this nose the head expanded to double its width, curving out and downward from the cheekbones, ending in sharp points adjacent to where the mouth was. Its eyes were placed on the areas of the head that expanded past its cheekbone, and above them the cranium shaped itself as if it were two eyebrows.

This face seemed to Hekili, to share similarities to other islander art styles he had come across, though not from any that should be present in this part of the world, but rather from that great chain of islands far to the north.

Hekili was drawn out of these ruminations as he noticed something. As he breathed the damp cave air he could smell a pungent scent, barely perceptible, but which grew stronger as he continued down the alien passage. It smelled distinctly of animal urine. Hekili crouched down, clutching his spear tight in preparation as he saw the narrow passage ending ahead and expanding out into a room, where the blue light seemed to be particularly strong.

He paused a moment, straining his ear as he attempted to perceive even the slightest sound of shuffling or pattering of footsteps, but his trained senses heard nothing. The tomb was eerily silent. Drawing closer to where the passage ended, he took his totokia out and banged it against the walls of the tomb, to see if he could startle any potential creature which might be up ahead. The reverberations of his banging were only greeted with their own echoes, which faded until once again he was left with that same silence.

He put his totokia into his skirt again and skulked forward, spear pointed and at the ready. As he reached the doorway he paused before entering, with only the point of his spear extending into the room. He took a moment and peered around.

Strewn across the ground were the skeletal remains of what must only have been the Iakalan warriors. They surrounded an imposing statue of the figure Hekili had seen on the tomb walls. The statue stood at double Hekili’s height, and was notable for the fact that Hekili had seldom seen statues of this size in his travels, and none had anywhere near the detail this one did. He was also struck with awe as he looked at the statue’s eyes, where two shining dark red stones glimmered, piercing through the blue haze. He had never before seen the like of them, and something about them struck a sort of fear in Hekili he had never before felt. A sense of total, complete, and impending doom.

He tore his gaze away, and he knew, somehow, he had seen something which was not for the eyes of men. He attempted to collect himself, but those stones had left him shaken. He knew not why, for they were only stone, were they not?

The room, otherwise, was empty.  He edged closer and peered around the doorway off to both sides, only to be met with more bones, and a doorway at the side which he presumed led into another lengthy passageway. Whatever had been in here seemed to have left, but that hardly made sense. The urine smell hanging in the air was fresh, Hekili knew this. His instincts told him whatever monster had killed these brave men was still here.

It was this instinct that caused Hekili to look up, where the opening gaping mouth of a lizard creature greeted him, its tongue shooting out past razor sharp teeth. Hekili rolled forward, the tether-like end of its tongue punching the ground where he had just been standing. By the time he was standing upright again its tongue had already retracted back into its mouth. Hekili thanked his instincts as he looked over the creature, its body more thin and serpentine like that of a gecko, and as long as three men. Its face was something monstrous, wide and covered in twisting horns.

But Hekili could not rest, for the creature was already lunging forward, its clawed, pad-like toes reaching for him as the tongue once again shot out in his direction. He dodged to the side and thrust his spear into the slimy appendage. As his foot met the stone ground of the tomb he propelled himself back, pulling the spear free from the tongue as he leapt, the creature flying past him, blood splattering against its face.

Landing on his shoulder he rolled himself into an upright position and sprinted toward the long-bodied beast, which was already twisting its body around, swiping its claws at Hekili.

Hekili turned, thrusting his spear into the lizard’s foot, which continued, undeterred, as the weapon pierced through. Its foot hit Hekili full force, sending him flying into the wall of the room, his spear ripped from his grasp.

 

 

His back smacked hard against stone, his body bouncing as he was sent facefirst towards the floor of the tomb. Hekili, dazed, looked up towards the monster and saw it was again shooting its tongue in his direction. He awoke himself from his stupor and rolled away, onto his back. He heard the tongue make impact as he placed his hands above his shoulders and pushed himself upwards, bringing his knees in below his body and landing on his feet.

Its tongue had receded and was already making its way towards him, closing the distance before Hekili could even attempt to dodge. Before the tongue punched into him he managed to pull the totokia from his skirt.

The tongue wrapped around him, sticky saliva tethering him to its tip. As it shot back, it pulled Hekili off his feet, drawing him toward the creature. Nearing the beast’s gaping jaw Hekili swung his totokia up, smashing the beak of it into the creature’s jaw, forcing its mouth to snap shut, its sharp teeth bearing up and tearing into its tongue. Hekili’s body met the lizard’s rough face, as its saliva still held him to its now limp tongue. Pulling himself and his totokia free, Hekili, again, lifted the club above his head, this time smashing it into the top of the monster’s head.

Hekili tore his totokia free from the crushed skull and slipped it back into his skirt. He grabbed onto his red-stained spear, below its head, which had pierced all the way through the creature’s foot. He pulled the remainder of it through the surprisingly weak flesh. Blood ran down the length of his spear, trickling over his hand.

He looked over the dead creature and realized that it must be a Taniwha, a guardian creature, which was to be expected within these sacred grounds. But what could have enraged it so, to turn it against the very people it was meant to protect?

Hekili turned to give a brief glance towards the statue, and stumbled back as he saw the statue’s head had twisted to look at him, the stones now shining even brighter, as if filled with life. Hekili’s mouth fell open in horror as he felt an urging to leave this tomb. This urge, he knew, somehow, was not his own. Some horrible force was shifting his very thoughts and feelings, filling him with a dread which he now also recognized as artificially placed. He looked away again from the eyes and felt the corrupting presence leave him.

Leaving the room, Hekili passed through the other doorway he had seen and continued down the passage, ridding himself of the image of that statue and those two probing red eyes.

Hekili wandered through the damp halls of the long forgotten king’s resting place, and noticed that though the room with the statue had the strongest concentration of blue light, that it was not the sole source of it. The blue light continued to hang in the air, more faint, but still present. He realized that this must merely be but traces of the god’s mana. What power it must have, that its mere presence radiates spiritual energy made manifest.

This new passage he entered was slightly angled downwards, and, unlike the previous passage, contained numerous turns. As he went the angle of the floor became steeper, and Hekili had to proceed carefully, lest he find himself losing control of his momentum.

Hekili, taking his next step, felt the floor slicken, for which he was unprepared. He slipped here and landed on his rear, as he slid down, his hair whipping behind him, he clutched his spear. The slippery surface propelled him forward, and he continued to gain speed. He then saw the passage’s end, which thankfully opened up into another room, rather than another turn.  As the steep incline ended, Hekili rolled forward across slick, muddy ground.

Once he came to a stop, he picked himself up and looked around, and his eyes were greeted with pure, ethereal beauty. Before him was a pristine pond, out of which rose four curved pillars. Tendrils of water flowed upwards out of the pond, coiling around the pillars, and shooting out from their pointed tips, all conjoining together into a ball of swirling mana. It appeared as if a glowing pearl had been clutched by the talons of a great stone bird.

The pond itself fluctuated, the edges surging unnaturally like the ocean tide.

“You should not have come,” a voice bellowed, resonating from the very air itself.

Suddenly the orb erupted, emitting a wave of the magical energy it had been formed out of. Hekili tried to center himself as best he could and withstand the sudden burst. The burst collided with him as if a wall of tiny needling teeth bit into his whole body, barbing in before tearing away, ripping away flesh in the process. The supernatural power radiated over him, and Hekili fell to his knees in agony, and, as he looked down at his arms, he was horrified to see exposed muscle and sinew in place of his skin.

“Leave now, or die, mortal,” the air spoke again.

The excruciating pain coursing through what remained of Hekili’s body almost drove him to faint, and the sight of his exposed innards sought to only further Hekili’s descent into darkness. Hekili grasped at his consciousness, as it attempted to flee from him, and pulled it back, recalling the earlier attacks on his psyche. He searched his mind again and felt that foreign influence clouding over him, a storm of lies, and so he gazed at his body, realizing that there were no strings of fat lingering on his muscles, as he knew there should be from his experience skinning animals. His skin was ripped from him too cleanly. What he was seeing was not true, he knew it could not be. He fought against that perception warping cloud, and as he did, it receded, as if mere acknowledgement of its power was enough to frighten it away.

Hekili looked again at his hands, his skin intact once more. He rose to his feet and looked to where the orb had been. In its place was the being depicted in the statue and wall carvings, large and imposing, standing at the same height as the idol. The thing’s eyes emitted the same deep red color of the gemstones, which shaded the creature’s scaled face, making it look somehow even more monstrous and sinister. Its body was cracking in places, or else its flesh was torn with deep gashes, out of which blue, flaming tendrils burned.

“You shall not overpower my mind, evil creature,” Hekili shouted.

In response the whole pond erupted, reducing the four pillars to rubble. It became a magnificent pillar of destructive tidal force, enveloping the being, whose eyes pierced through even the surging water.

“I give you this last warning. Leave me to my slumber,” the air said.

“I will not leave until I have ended the torture you have imposed upon the people of this island.”

“A torture they earned when they betrayed the trust of their protector god, and entered his sacred grounds, as you now do as well,” the air replied.

At this the pillar of water split and rushed towards Hekili and crashed against him.

The loud ringing in his ears was the only thing Hekili knew for a moment. He didn’t feel the ground beneath his feet anymore. He was floating.

Slowly Hekili regained his senses. His body ached. His vision was clouded, and he could barely tell if he could even see at all. There, another gecko creature was slicing through the water towards him, and he knew he could not swim out of the way as its jaws shut around him, teeth slicing in, and Hekili closed his eyes, accepting his death.

No, Hekili thought, his eyes opening again and the sensation of the gecko-monster biting him vanished, only to be replaced by the feeling of the god’s hand clenching around Hekili’s throat. It was crushing his windpipe, and Hekili saw anger in its blazing eyes.

“Be humbled before a god,” the voice spoke around Hekili.

In this moment he felt powerless, completely at the mercy of a being far beyond his comprehension. He was a mortal battling a god which was a part of the world incarnate. A weak, fragile mortal.

But that was not true, was it? He was Hekili! Hekili, who soars across the sea, greatest among his people, and descendant of Tuilakemba, who himself slayed countless evil deities. The invading feelings that had plagued his self-worth retreated and he faced the god with renewed determination, and as he did so it disappeared.

Hekili looked into himself again, searching for corrupting influences, and felt nothing. He looked around, twisting his body in the water, searching for a sign of that deity or anything else. And he saw those red eyes, and that which bore them swimming towards him at an alarming speed.  Hekili prepared himself, only for the god to disappear. He felt a painful blow to his back which bent his spine. Then he felt a punch land in his gut, but his eyes did not see the entity in front of him.

Hekili focused on the pain of the two blows, and as he did so he felt two different sensations in the areas the blows had landed, or more precisely he felt the blows and also did not feel them. The feelings of pain left him. He searched his body and he could feel the cool damp air of the tomb, as well as the water wrapped around him. He could feel cold stone beneath his bare feet, but could also feel himself floating. He rid himself of the weaker sensations and felt himself standing in the tomb, even as his eyes told him he was not.

And so he strained his eyes and saw the two realities at once, the one in which he was battling underwater, the other he realized he stood still, as if in a trance, and he saw that he was in a simple room lit by normal orange flame torches. His eyes immediately flashed to the figure at the center of the room, the same one from the visions, except decayed. He had but a moment to gaze upon this, only beginning to move himself forward, before his perception shattered into experiencing a multitude of torturous realities. He struggled to take in the overload of sensory stimulation, no mortal mind could bear this, and he felt his grasp on the true reality slipping from him, a solitary leaf whispering away from his fingers as he was smothered by twisting vines which sought to pull him away.

And so he fought, straining to retain his very sanity, with every bit of willpower he had he forced himself to focus on the reality he had caught but a glimpse of, that reality the evil god tried to pull away from him, and with every moment he latched on to it he forced one foot forward before it slipped away again. Step, his back being lashed, step, his kneecaps being shattered, step, his stomach being torn out, step, an octopus crawling down his throat, step. Staggering step after staggering step, in between visions of death, visions of pain.

At last he felt that stone table he saw the figure lay on, and he pushed his mind to stay, and as he did he could almost feel his mind beginning to crack. He pulled his totokia from his skirt, almost dropping it as the horde of visions tried to slither in. Shark biting off his arm. But he pulled with desperation and tightly gripped the totokia with the arm he knew was still there, and he smashed it into the god’s chest.

The visions fell away, and Hekili stumbled from the relief of it, having to support himself with the stone table. He looked towards the now dead god, a mummified, decrepit old thing. A mere husk in comparison to what must have been its former glory.

Whatever self-proclaimed deity had waged war on Hekili’s mind now lay there, brought to its final sleep.

Hekili tore his totokia free and gave the dead god a parting look before turning, grabbing his fallen spear with his free hand, and leaving the cursed tombs.

 

The sunlight blinded Hekili as he strode back into the surface world. His eyes adjusted and he looked up at the serpent, which watched him inquisitively. Hekili explained all that had happened after he had gone into the tomb to the serpent. As he began to detail his battle with the mind-warping being he paused his regaling for a moment.

“The being said the people of Iakala had defied their god and entered these sacred tombs,” Hekili said, trailing off at the end, leaving his question unsaid.

“Aye,” the serpent rumbled at last. “I believed as much when I sensed the cosmic rage that brought me here, and after arriving I knew, for the cursed irreverence of the act still hangs on the air.

“Who? And to what ends?”

“I know not, Hekili, only that they still live, for the air remains heavy with their betrayal. That is all I will say on the matter,” the serpent said. “Now then, seeing as you have returned to me, I assume you slew the dying god, as you did his guardian Taniwha?”

“I did,” Hekili confirmed.

“Then you have completed your part of our bargain. Now I shall complete mine,” the serpent said, and as it finished it spat out something from its mouth at the ground beneath it, creating a rippling puddle of sizzling energy. It then lunged itself forward at its construction, its body disappearing as it went. Soon the entirety of the serpent was devoured by the strange puddle, which collapsed in upon itself and vanished as well.

Hekili shook his head in confusion and made his way back to the town.

 

“So you have returned,” Kamaka shouted, greeting the hero upon his arrival. “Have you done it? Have you rid us of the serpent?”

Hekili paused a moment, watching Kamaka, before picking his words carefully.

“Aye, the beast fled in terror before my might. It shall afflict you no longer with its presence,” Hekili said, lacking his usual bombastic flare.

Nevertheless, the chief’s demeanor shifted as a wide grin spread across his face, and he ran at Hekili, embracing him in a hug.

“Oh, glorious days, you have delivered us,” Kamaka cried out.  “Our god has answered my prayers at last and given to us the greatest of heroes that still treads the earth. My people shall enter into a bright new age thanks to you, Hekili.”

“A bright new age with you as their leader,” Hekili said, his eyes narrowing.

“Yes,” Kamaka said as he released Hekili from his embrace. “I suppose the gods work mysteriously, but work they do.”

“Truly,” was all Hekili said.

“Come now, Hekili, we must go celebrate, my people eagerly await us at the marae,” Kamaka said as he waved Hekili forward. Hekili joined him, and the two walked through the village beside each other. “I had been so worried our god had forsaken us.”

“You lacked faith,” Hekili said. “For few things would cause our ancestor gods to abandon us wholly.”

“I thought I had done as much,” Kamaka said, becoming sullen for a moment before brightening again. “But that is in the past, and now I see our god stands beside me.”

Hekili stopped walking and Kamaka turned to him bewildered. Hekili whirled his spear and pointed it at the chief.

“You went into the tomb, you fool,” Hekili yelled, and Kamaka jumped back, startled. He began looking around for people, but they were on the outskirts of the village, and nobody was around.

“And if I did?” Kamaka said.

“You were right when you thought your god had forsaken you,” Hekili said. “It was you who brought the grief your people have suffered under, who brought about your brother’s death.”

“What do you mean?” Kamaka asked, his face draining of color.

“Your actions angered your god, and it was that god’s wrath which killed your brother.” Hekili said. “You entered sacred ground, ground protected by a Taniwha. You know this is against that which is tabu.”

“But I have the blood of my chieftain ancestors in me, their mana runs through me!”

“Even so, you were not worthy of intruding upon their resting place, that place of spirits was not for you. You are no tohunga. Did you even think to seek the blessing of one?”

“I had thought I would not need…”

“And for what? What pleas did you assail your god with?” Hekili asked.

“I merely wanted what was best for my people,” Kamaka said.

“What did you pray for, betrayer?” Hekili asked again.

“Please…” Kamaka pleaded.

“What did you ask for?” Hekili pressed.

“That I might lead my people to a golden age,” Kamaka finally answered. “My brother was too content and would have allowed us to stagnate. I just asked my god that he would give his people the glory they deserved.”

“You slimy eel,” Hekili spoke the insult with venom. “I should skewer you where you stand.”

Hekili relaxed his stance, and held his spear upright at his side.

“But I shall leave your fate to your people. Pray to whatever you still believe stands beside you that they be more merciful than I,” Hekili said as he pushed the sulking Kamaka forward toward the marae, where his people waited.

The two of them came to the village people, passing below the wooden gate. They looked upon them, curious, not understanding the strange dynamic that seemed to exist between them. Hekili recounted his conversation with the chief, and as he did the faces of the villagers twisted into fury.

“Traitor!”

“Eel!”

“Leave!”

Soon this call was echoed by others, as they drove Kamaka out of the marae, grabbing at him and pulling him to the docks where their canoes were hitched. The village people threw him onto one of the canoes and tore away at the fibrous rope hitching it to the dock, setting the former chief out to sea. The people continued hurling abuse as the vessel was swept out to sea. The chief righted himself and gave one last sad look at the island before he began to row himself away, toward whatever fate the sea held for him.

As the vessel drew further away the village people began to relent, and now stood, lost as to what they could do. They turned to Hekili for guidance.

“I am afraid I cannot lead you, dear people of Iakala. My life belongs to the sea, and I must return to it. If you are to find a new leader it must be one of those among you,” Hekili said to them.

They turned to one another, looking to see who among them could take the role of chief for themselves. The old man who had first greeted Hekili spoke up.

“I am the eldest among us. I have weathered through more hardships than any of you save this hero,” he said, gesturing to Hekili. “I shall lead them, Hekili.”

The people seemed content with this and nodded their heads.

“Very well, I wish you luck,” Hekili said. “Though I realize now you never honored me with your name.”

“Nikau, hero,” the old man said and Hekili nodded his head in respect. “You have done much for us, Hekili. Surely you can join us in celebrating your victories today?”

Hekili looked to the reddened sky, the setting sun illuminating it with blazing fire.

“The stars will be out soon. My next destination will be hidden in them,” Hekili said and turned his head to look at Nikau. “I will have to decline your offer, though I am humbled by it. I must be off on my next voyage soon.”

“I understand, hero,” Nikau said. “Go, as you may, and claim for yourself all the glory that awaits you.”

With this blessing Hekili set off from the village, and boarded his ship. As he sailed away he did not spare the island a second look, his mind already on the future dangers and conquests that awaited him.

And so the great Hekili soared across the sea, venturing into the unknown once more.

 

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Having grown up a military brat, D.H. Rowe was able to travel much of the world at a young age. It was this experience which led him to find a passion in all things historical, mythological and fantastical. He currently writes out of Boston where he has settled down with his partner and puppy. The Waking Gods is his first published story.

 

Simon Walpole has been drawing for as long as he can remember and is fortunate to spend his freetime working as an illustrator. He primarily use pencils, pens and markers and use a bit of digital for tweaking. As well as doing interior illustrations for various publishing formats he has also drawn a lot of maps for novels. his work can be found at his website HandDrawnHeroes.