He stands at waters edge. Six foot four inches and 350 pounds of man. Take away his arms, he could be trunk of largest tree that ever grew. Imposing doesn’t go far enough to describe his gaze. Some would say the gaze was what stopped the sea from coming on land.
Coming to shore is a canoe. One man is obviously restless, constantly looking to land and back to sea. Alika had failed the chief. Behind him, Honu’ea in turtle form is leading Iklia to land. The gods of the seas have turned on him and his chief. Chiefs don’t pay the price first.
Akoni motions a boy to bring him a large coconut. He tosses it between his giant hands, the coconut disappears as those hands hold it.
Puʻuhonua o Hōnauna, island of refuge, is a fairy tale to tell children. No refuge from breaking a kapu, laws from heaven. No-one in hundred years made it. This was a problem for two of three men. Prices to be paid.
Alika slowly leaves the canoe. Head held high, acting brave, fear has taken his breath. Once on dry sand, Akoni reaches back and hurls coconut twenty feet into Alika’s chest. A single drum beat of a flesh drum filled the air.
“Aaaahhhhh aaaa. Aaaaa” Alika can’t make sounds. His chest is on fire. His eyes tear. He’s prone on the soft sand. “Must rise up, must rise up” runs around his mind. Struggling, Alika rises, not to stable, but rises. His 5 foot 10 inch, 160 pound body looks like grass in the wind. But there’s no breeze.
Akoni suggests to Alika “There’s only one solution. You both stay here until one dies” Akoni lets a long pause settle in. “He will have the same choice. My nephew the gods on land may need to help you, Iklia had the seas gods bringing him to shore. ”