Kamaile by Joni Keamoai

Kililau & Kūpa'a

Kamaile

Alohi stepped into the grove just after dusk, the last golden streaks of sunlight weaving through the trees. Her cheeks still carried the flush of excitement from the day, her mind replaying every stolen moment by the stream with Kililau. She didn't notice the entryway had been opened until a throat cleared behind her.

She froze.

Who could it be?

Her eyes widened as she looked up. Standing there, the figure bathed in the last light of the day, was...

"Pa!" she gasped, literally leaping into his arms.

Ho'omana smiled, the familiar warmth of her father grounding her. "Kealohilani, ihea oe hele kānei?" he asked, eyes searching hers. Where had she gone?

"Au'au wai," she replied, a half-truth slipping past her lips. She left out the part about Kililau. Not yet. Not now.

He studied her closely, sensing there was something unsaid, the weight of secrets heavy between them.

"You've come to visit, or...?" Alohi asked, trying to bridge the tension. Her father was always precise, deliberate—sometimes impossibly so.

"A'ole. I'm finally taking you home with me," he replied, voice firm, yet not without tenderness.

"Home, as in...?" she countered, sharp and wary. Alohi was clever like her mother, questioning motives even when the answer should have been simple.

"Manā," he said with a deep sigh.

"Yes!" she almost shouted, relief and joy surging through her. The day she had longed for had finally arrived. But then she remembered ... Kililau.

Just friends... right? Or was there something more?

Her chest tightened as an unfamiliar flutter stirred inside her. She had never felt it before—this nervous excitement that tangled hope, fear, and longing into one knot.

"Kealohilani?"

"Yes, Pa," she smiled, forcing herself to remain composed.

"Mahea o Tutu Hali'i?"

"Kipa oiā me kona hoa'loha mā nou'nou," Alohi explained smoothly. Tutu had visited a friend in Nounou, leaving Alohi to tend to her chores and the hale.

And also to assist her father with his ukana and settle him into the home.

The plan was clear: by week's end, they would depart Kamaile. Ho'omana would determine if Alohi had absorbed all she needed—medicinal knowledge, spiritual awareness, the delicate energy exchanges that were the foundation of lā'au lapa'au.

Did she understand it all? Could she wield such power responsibly? He hoped so.

⸻

Wainiha

"Kililau!" A voice called from outside the hale. For a moment, Kili thought it was his father testing him again—his usual rigorous training tactics—but the voice was unfamiliar.

"Kililau?" the stranger asked.

"Ae," Kililau responded cautiously.

"'O wau no o Kūpa'a, hoa'loha no kou papa," the man introduced himself. A friend of his father, Ha'ikū had sent him on an important mission. Kililau greeted him with Hā and invited him inside.

Kūpa'a explained the task: "You are to return with me to Nounou. A group of us are training there, and your father needs you to bring his 'ihe and the pahu—the box he never allowed you to open."

Kili's pulse quickened. The pahu had been forbidden ever since he was eight. He had almost opened it once, narrowly avoiding punishment. And now he was being entrusted with it.

Whatever is inside... it must be important.

The trek to Nounou was longer than expected, the dense forest whispering secrets as if the trees themselves were aware of the mission. Kili cradled the pahu carefully, reverence and curiosity warring within him.

As they neared his uncle's hale, voices rose from the yard. Men training? The commotion stirred tension in his chest.

"Kaumuali'i is visiting the area in a few days," Kūpa'a informed him, reading his thoughts. "I can sense your energy."

Kili shivered. This man—this warrior—was unlike anyone he'd met. Watching, sensing, anticipating. I must remain vigilant.

Then a familiar voice broke the tension: "Yo, cuz!" Manaleo stood at the gate, a grin splitting his face. Kili felt a small wave of relief wash over him.

"Hey, what's happening?" he asked, greeting Mana with Hā.

"Training with the guards," Mana shrugged. "E lawe mai iloko," Lamakū instructed, signaling Kili to bring in the pahu. He was Chief Kahiau's entrusted guard. When Kililau entered the hale he greeted the men with Hā including his father.

Inside, the men sat in a circle, scooping awa from a cauldron, sharing the sacred drink with ritualized care. Kili bowed in greeting and took a seat.

"Mahalo no keiā hui ana," Chief Kahiau began, thanking those gathered. "Kipa ana mai 'o Kaumuali'i I ne'i, makemake mākou I ho'omakaukau I Ka 'āina a me wahi pāna mamua o kona ha'alele ana mai." The King of Kaua'i would visit soon, and the aina and its men, must be prepared.

The pahu and the 'ihe were placed reverently before Kahiau, the objects radiating significance. Kili felt a shiver of awe as he realized the weight of history resting in his hands.

⸻

Kamaile

Meanwhile, Alohi and her father prepared a hearty meal, awaiting Tutu Hali'i's return. When she didn't arrive, worry began to creep into Ho'omana's thoughts.

"Has Tutu Hali'i ever been gone this long?" he asked, concern etching his features.

"Honestly no. She usually returns after a day, but when I returned from camp with Anakala mā, Tutu had left the following dawn and had not yet returned." Alohi explained, unease creeping into her own voice.

"This is different. She could be in danger," Ho'omana said.

Quickly, he packed essentials: food, water, a moena, and secured it to his eke.

"I am going to look for her. You stay here," he instructed firmly.

"No, Pa. I'm coming too," Alohi declared, stepping forward.

"A'ole, Alohi. This is not up for discussion. You are staying here."

"Kalamai, Pa, but you've kept me here long enough! I'm going stir crazy. I'm coming with you!" Her eyes sparked with determination and worry for Tutu Hali'i.

Ho'omana opened his mouth, then stopped. Her resolve mirrored her mother's courage—it could not be ignored.

⸻

Nounou

Tutu Hali'i had arrived at her longtime friend Mahealani's home, only to face unexpected chaos. Mahealani's daughter, Lokelia, was in labor, complicated by a breech. Her husband was away at training, leaving Tutu Hali'i to improvise quickly.

Ancient medicine blended in her hands, each movement precise, carrying knowledge that spanned generations. Focus, balance, breathe...

⸻

Wainiha

On the road to Nounou, Chief Ho'omana hailed a local fisherman with a carriage.

"Pa?" Alohi peeked from the side.

"Alohi, I'm upset at you for following me, but we'll discuss it later," he said calmly, masking his worry.

"Ae," she nodded, gripping the side of the carriage. Her heart thumped—not just from the ride, but from the pull of danger and adventure, and the bond growing between her and her father.

The forest whispered around them, shadows stretching long and alive, as if the island itself was holding a secret it didn't want yet to be revealed. Something powerful is unfolding... Alohi thought, the air tingling bringing a chill to her skin.