Kamaile by Joni Keamoai

Alohi & Kili

Kamaile

After bidding farewell to Ha'ikū, Kililau, and Manaleo, Alohi followed her father, Ho'omana, and Tūtū Hali'i to the cliff's edge overlooking the breadth of their 'āina. Tūtū Hali'i had planned to teach Alohi this lesson later, but something about this moment felt right. Perhaps Ho'omana's presence would help ease any fear or discomfort.

Without a word, Hali'i lifted her hands and placed a shield around the three of them.

It shimmered like a bubble, protecting them from the outside world. The blazing heat of the sun did not touch their skin, the air inside felt cool and breathable. But this was more than a physical barrier—it was spiritual, protective, powerful. Alohi's eyes widened, her heart racing as she turned toward her father.

He reached for her hand, his voice calm and steady. "Mai hopohopo," he whispered, urging her not to worry.

Alohi drew in a shaky breath, then let it out slowly, mimicking his calm. Her heartbeat steadied.

Tūtū Hali'i's gaze remained fixed on the horizon, her body still as stone. After a long silence, she began to speak in their ancient tongue, explaining what she was doing.

A protection shield, she said, demanded both skill and sacrifice. To hold one in place required tremendous energy, drawn from the core of a person's spirit. Releasing the shield, she turned to Alohi with solemn eyes.

"Ka mea ino ma nā wahi apau, pono 'oe e maka'ala i nā mea, nā wahi, a me nā po'e apau."

The warning struck deep. Evil lurked everywhere. Always be vigilant of things, of places, and of people.

Ho'omana echoed his aunt's words, adding gently, "This is all for your safety."

Alohi nodded, her young face serious as she listened.

Her father continued, his tone carrying both instruction and sorrow. "What I did with you just now—the calming technique—it is the transferral of energy. You may not have even realized it was happening. But intention guides all things. If your intention is dark, then darkness will take hold. If your intention is true, light will surround you. Intention is the key."

There was grief in his voice when he repeated those words. Alohi felt it heavy in her chest. She squeezed his hand—and in that moment, she swore she felt her mother's presence wrap around them both.

Ho'omana had spoken those same words to Lilina once, long ago.

Tūtū Hali'i finally broke the silence with a small smile. "Ho'i mākou," she said lightly, changing the somber mood. "It is time for lunch."

⸻

Wainiha

Kililau worked faster than ever, performing his chores with lightning speed. He left no stone unturned, no task undone. With his father at home, there was no way he'd be able to sneak away unless he played the part of a perfect, obedient son.

Good boy points, he thought to himself. And he was going to need every single one.

After finishing in the lo'i, Kili slipped away to the pond for a quick swim. His mother, Malanai, noticed his sudden diligence and later questioned Ha'ikū that evening.

"A'ole wau maopopo," Ha'ikū admitted, shrugging with the same suspicion in his eyes. He wasn't sure what had gotten into his son, but instinctively, he knew Kili was plotting something.

Malanai thought so too. As they blew out the candle by their nightstand, she curled against her husband, but sleep never came easily. Her mind stayed restless, turning over her son's strange behavior.