Chapter One - Call Of The Ocean

There are many heroes that my people look up to. But the most famous hero from our stories was perhaps the demi-god, Maui.

He did so much for us, like forming our islands and giving us the gift of fire. He slowed the sun so we would have more light to work during the day, and lifted the sky when he saw that it was too low and that the people were suffering because of it. The great deeds of Maui were numerous, and that is why he is considered a hero. Our people also have villains in our stories—and they are declared such because of the numerous bad deeds they have done.

Heroes can make mistakes, and sometimes villains can even do a good deed or two—but they are given separate titles. There is no gray area—one is either a villain or a hero. And therein lies the problem, because even the best gods and demi-god's have a dark side. These stories are not told, and so I must tell the untold story of Maui so all may know he is not only a hero—but a devious, vengeful villain. For all the good things he did, there is one thing I could never forgive him for—taking my mother away from me.

For the past seven generations, he has separated mothers from daughters because of a grudge held against one of my ancestors—a woman named Lolana. The story goes that one day while Maui was out fishing on his boat, he caught a glimpse of the most beautiful mortal women he had ever seen. Filled with desire for her, he swam ashore and tried to impress her with feats of strength. Lolana was amused.

Thinking he had won her over, Maui asked her to become his. The woman was flattered, of course, since a demi-god had taken such an interest in her, but explained that she was in love with another man, and they were soon to be married. Maui was surprised by her refusal, and tried even harder to persuade her to become his.

When she kept refusing his advances, Maui was filled with anger.

To punish her for her refusal, he put a curse on her and all future generations—she would indeed marry the man she loved, and give birth to a healthy baby girl who would grow into a beautiful woman. However, after the child was weaned, he would steal the mother from her family and keep her for the rest of her days as tribute and slave on his island. To make it worse, each girl that was born from her line—once she married and gave birth to a daughter of her own—would be taken as soon as the child was weaned.

Lolana was frightened by his threat, but her fiancé promised he would keep her safe from any and all harm—whether it was demi-god or mortal. So the woman moved on with her life and married the man she loved. Just as Maui had predicted, she gave birth to a daughter, and as soon as the child was weaned, Lolana was stolen away to Maui's mystical island. Every woman born from Lolana since then has suffered the same fate—most recently, my mother, Sina.

I am next in line.

When I first heard of the curse from my father at the age of four—the age when he believed I was old enough to hear the truth—I made a vow to myself. I would never fall in love. If I never fall in love, there is no chance of me marrying and bearing a daughter. The curse was contingent upon me giving birth to a daughter so it could continue, but if I never gave birth, I would never be stolen away by Maui and forced to become his slave. I knew what this meant, even from that young age.

I sometimes watched the other young couples on our island with envy, knowing I would never get a chance to experience the magical feeling of falling in love, but I knew that missing out on an experience was surely better than experiencing it for a short time, only to have it cruelly snatched from me. It was surely better than being ripped away from my family to an island where I would be alone with that hated man—to have him force himself upon me until he tired of me or I died.

Thankfully, as daughter of the Chief, I found lots of things to distract myself with. While other girls were daughters of common laborers and had to work in the fields, I had the freedom to do whatever I pleased, as long as I never left the island or went out into the water. Father was scared that if I ventured too far away from him, Maui would come and snatch me away, or I might be taken away from him by some other accident. Because he was unable to keep my mother from being taken, he was determined to keep me safe, even if that meant forbidding me from setting foot into the waters surrounding our island. Of course, contrary to my father's rules, that was usually where I ended up.

My gramma loved the ocean, and told me that my mother had loved the ocean as well. It was one of the things that they bonded over as mother-in-law and daughter-in-law. She had loved my mother like her own daughter, and loved me just as much, but unlike my father, she said I deserved to be who I was. She was the one who carved my alaia board when I was old enough to learn how to surf. It was beautiful—made from the wiliwili wood that was reserved for royalty. It was almost a rite of passage in my village to learn how to surf, and I loved it. I always dreamed of traveling to the farthest corners of the earth and seeing what lay beyond our small island, and surfing was as close as I could get to that dream.

Today, like many similar days, I found myself lying on my alaia board, paddling out towards the ocean. As I pushed onward through the waves, I pondered on what could actually lay beyond our island. I knew there were various islands surrounding us, but what about beyond that? The only people who knew the answer to that had set out months ago and had yet to return, so it appeared I may never know.

It was nearing ten months ago that my father sent out scouts to search for a man my island had only heard whispers about—a master over the mo'o. Traders from other nearby islands told us stories about him and spoke of him as if he were a deity himself—hearing the stories from traders further out, and they, in turn, hearing it from traders even further away. They said the stories of this man had traveled from lands far beyond our islands. When my father heard the rumors, he immediately sent scouts out across the oceans to find the man from the legends.

Until recently, the mo'o had always lived relatively peacefully among our people—rarely attacking us or stealing our food. We understood that we may rule over the island, but the ocean was their domain, and we respected that. But a little over four years ago, they began attacking our ships and stealing our food, so my father was left with little choice but to believe the rumors about this man to be true—they just had to be, for the sake of our people. For the past ten months we have held out hope for the scouts to return with the fabled master of the mo'o, but they were long overdue. The ocean could only stretch so far, couldn't it? Surely it must end somewhere. Was the world truly flat as some believed, or was it endless like others said?

I raised my gaze to the rolling waters coming towards me, and shook the troubling thoughts away. The sky was a dark blue and gray, with a stronger wind than usual that swept out from the island towards the ocean. My hair blew across my face—trying to block my vision with curled tendrils of black. I could feel my skirt whipping around my thighs, where it had ridden up, but nothing could make me stay in on a day like this.

These kinds of days were the best for surfing—because offshore winds made perfect waves. I imagined that the others were out on the water too, due to the great surfing weather, but this particular spot was empty. My great-grandfather had deemed it the best surfing spot on the island, and so he reserved it solely for his use and that of his descendants—making it kapu, or forbidden, for anyone else to come here. My father didn't surf, and didn't know my gramma had taught me herself, so this was the perfect spot for me to surf without my father finding out about it.

Focusing on the present, I dug my arms through the water and pushed my board forward. I broke through the crashing waves and paddled out a bit further before sitting up, dangling my feet over the edge. Closing my eyes, I could feel the motion of the water beneath me—the push and pull of the currents. I could feel the waves roll and crest, calmly waiting for my instincts to tell me when the perfect wave was coming.

Suddenly, I felt it.

Eyes snapping open, I turned my board and began paddling furiously towards the shore. The wave rose up beneath me and thrust my wooden board forward. I popped up on the board and spread my arms out—finding my balance before taking the dive down the wave. The wind snapped my hair back and stray droplets of water splashed against my face. The feeling it gave me, the indescribable exhilaration, was the best sensation in the world. Turning the board, I sliced through the water as the wave crashed around me—forming a tunnel. When I made it out, I turned my board towards the shore and rode it into the white water. All too soon, the thrill ended and I was left with an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach.

When my ride came to an end, I jumped off and landed in the water. I popped up a moment later, making sure to grab my board so it wouldn't get swept away. I didn't waste any time before hoisting myself back up on the board. That was good—but I wanted more. More of a thrill—more danger and excitement. I wanted a wave so incredible it would leave my mind spinning and my body buzzing with excitement. I wanted to feel like there was lightning shooting through my veins—and today would be the perfect day for that. The waves were bigger and stronger than usual due to the beginnings of a storm coming, so the waves would be fiercer than ever.

I lay prone and turned to paddle out towards the open ocean once again. This time, I went out further than before—looking for the bigger waves. It took a while to paddle out far enough to get the really big waves, but I kept pushing myself until I made it. Once I was there, I only had to wait for a few minutes before I felt a great surge of water. Digging my arms into the water, I counted each deep stroke as I paddled towards the shore. The wave rose slowly, but as soon as it did, I knew it was going to be huge—at least forty feet, possibly more.

My heart raced inside my chest, threatening to beat right out of it. I stayed near the top and rode it steady. As it surged forward, the wave curled, and I sliced down the drop created by it. I could feel my board going faster than it had in a long time, and I let out a whoop of joy.

Suddenly, a sound cut through the roar of the wave—a sound that, even though it was uncommon, struck me to my very core with fear. My eyes darted over to my right—where the sound had come from—and saw a mo'o riding the same wave as me, not more than ten feet away. It was a bright turquoise color, with pink tinged wings spread out to glide across the water. Sharp spikes rose up along its ridged back, with the longest of these spikes protruding from its head. Its long snout opened up, revealing a row of razor sharp teeth, as it let out a loud roar.

I screamed.

My body instinctively shifted away from the sea monster and I lost my balance. It was a free-fall to the surging wave below, and then—wham!

I didn't even get a chance to take a breath. The churning waters tossed my body around like seaweed underwater. The force of the water beating me was suffocating. I felt like I was being crushed from all sides. I couldn't tell which way was up or down, and began to feel the stirrings of panic deep in the pit of my stomach. Gramma taught me it was important to remain calm when you lost your balance and wiped-out—a lesson she said that was as important to surfing as it was to life. So I forced my body to relax and ride out the wave.

Suddenly, I felt something slam into my leg—slicing through my skin. The burn of seawater on my open wound was unbearable. I opened my mouth in a scream and felt seawater rush down my throat.

I began to choke.

My arms flailed around—desperately reaching for anything that could save me. My legs kicked uselessly, trying to propel myself forward. It seemed like I was down there for an eternity. The edges of my vision turned from white and blue to black—fading around the edges. My head suddenly felt very heavy. A fiery pain sparked to life in my lungs, spreading slowly throughout my body. Flailing arms became deadweights as I let out my last breath of air.

Just as I gave up hope, I felt arms encircle my waist—pulling me through the water. When I felt my head break the surface I tried to gulp down air, but instead I began coughing up seawater. My legs were useless, but I felt myself being pulled through the water. When I felt my feet touch the bottom, the arms around me shifted, and I was dragged through the shallow waters up to the shoreline. The arms that had saved me gently lowered me to the sand.

"Come on, Moana, open your eyes," a gentle but anxious voice coaxed me. I could barely feel the hand tapping my cheek—I felt numb. I tried to open my eyes, but they felt so heavy and useless. "Come on, tell me you're all right."

I recognized the voice, and when I finally cracked my eyes open, I saw the face of my best friend hovering over me. Her eyebrows were creased in worry and she was biting down on her lower lip. "Amura?"

She gave a sigh of relief, letting her head fall forward slightly. Her wet tendrils of black hair brushed against my cheeks, tickling them. "Oh, thank Rangi," she muttered. When she opened her eyes again there was a spark of irritation, along with a quiver in her normally strong voice. "You scared me half to death, you know!"

I let out another violent cough and felt more seawater come up. Amura immediately grabbed me under my arms and hauled me up into a sitting position so I wouldn't choke. She sat behind me so that I was leaning on something sturdy, and turned her black eyes to the sea.

"I saw the mo'o!" I said, remembering how close I had been to it—how close I had been to death. "They don't usually come this close to the shore."

As I looked out over the crashing waves, I remembered my board. I frantically tried to stand, and as I did a flaring pain sprung up in my leg. I let out a cry of pain, tears biting at the edge of my eyes, but I still tried to stand. Amura's grip on me tightened and held me down as she tried to calm me. "Whoa, Moana, calm down! What's wrong?"

"My alaia!" I cried, my voice still hoarse. "Where is my board?!"

"Look, it's out there on the waves, its fine," she said, pointing to a rolling wave that carried my board on it. It wasn't too far out, but I knew the current could change at any moment and pull my board out to sea. As if reading my mind, she added, "Fine, I'll go get it."

Amura made sure I could sit on my own before she stood and walked toward the ocean. Swimming out into the water, she quickly grabbed my board and pulled it back to shore. As she came back, I noticed the top of my board had a reddish stain on it. Ignoring the burning pain, I turned my leg around to see the gash on the back of my calf and made the connection. So that was what hit me—my board.

Amura dragged it over before plopping it down next to me in the sand. She raked a hand through her hair, pushing it away from her face, then extended a hand toward me. As she turned her gaze to me, it suddenly wandered down to my leg. "Come on, I'll help you home."

I grabbed her hand and she hauled me to my feet. A burst of pain came when I put pressure on my injured leg, but I grit my teeth and waited for it to dull down. Once it was manageable, I took a tentative step forward, gripping Amura's arm as she helped me walk forward.

As we reached the border between the forest and the shoreline, a figure stepped out from the trees, and we both froze. The bent posture and walking cane gave the figure away before she had even stepped into the light streaming through the canopy overhead.

"Gramma Tala?" Amura and I both said at the same time.

"Amura? What are you doing here?" Gramma swung her cane at a spot on the shore just behind us, and we both turned to look. Near the tree line, stuck there in the sand, were two wooden sticks crossing each other. At the end of each stick was a white ball—this was the sign chief's used to mark spots that were kapu. Amura could get into serious trouble if anyone learned she was here, and I could get into serious trouble with my dad if he discovered what I was doing behind his back.

"I saved Moana's life!" Amura blurted out, trying to shift the focus from her onto me. I shot her a nasty look as gramma's gaze swung over to me. I immediately swung my injured foot behind my other foot, trying to hide the wound, but Gramma caught the movement. She swung her cane towards my leg and caught it with the bend in the wood, drawing my leg up towards her.

"What happened?"

"The board hit my leg after I wiped out."

She clicked her tongue, shaking her head. "You should be more careful, Moana. I didn't teach you to surf so you could go and get yourself killed." She released my leg. "It's not a deep cut, it should be fine if you bandage it up."

"Are you going to tell my dad?"

"Maybe if you had lost a leg." She gestured for me and Amura to follow her. "Come on, let's get some leaves for that wound."

With Amura's help, I hobbled up the sandy slope. When we finally reached the healing plants there was a sheen of sweat on my forehead—causing my hair to mat against my face. The cool seawater now felt hot and sticky against my skin, and my clothes clung to me in an uncomfortable way. Amura helped me sit down on a large rock, and I wiped a hand across my forehead.

Gramma walked over to the nearby plants, grabbing a few of the leaves before tearing them up. Then she placed them against my skin. The burning sensation instantly cooled down, and I let out a breath I hadn't even realized I'd been holding. After a few moments, she reached down and tore a strip of linen from my skirt before wrapping it around the leaves.

"You'll have to wear a longer skirt if you want to hide this from your father."

I gave a nod. "Thank you."

She leaned forward and touched her forehead and nose against mine—a traditional greeting among our people. "Don't stay out too long, or your father will come looking for you."

With that she hobbled off, leaving me alone with Amura. There was a brief silence, and then I asked, "What were you doing on the beach, Amura?"

"The scouts have been sighted." At the news my eyes snapped up to meet hers and widened. Hope bubbled up in my chest. "I knew you would want to know and that you would be out surfing since the weather is perfect for it. It was a good thing I came when I did. One more moment and…" She was unable to finish her sentence.

"Did the boats have any strangers on them? Did they find the man from the stories?"

She looked away and furrowed her eyebrows. "I'm not sure. They were too far away to tell." She stood, then offered me a hand. "Come on, let's see what the scouts found."

I took her hand and followed her to the docks with a limp in my step. It was already crowded when we got there. There were twenty men in total that had set out in three separate vessels ten months ago…and there were only two vessels docked now. Sadness instantly washed over me when I realized what that meant. Surely that meant their journey had been in vain. With a vessel missing and no newcomers in sight, they must have failed. Perhaps the stories we heard were just that—stories. Amura grabbed my arm and we made our way through the crowd to the front, where my father stood, talking to the scouts.

"And where are they now?" I heard my father ask. Was he talking about the missing vessel?

The leader of the scouts replied, "We were escorting them here, but a couple days ago their sailcloth tore. We were going to wait for them to repair it, but their chief insisted we go ahead to inform you about their coming, but one of our boats stayed behind to make sure they made it. They should be a day's journey behind us, at most."

"This will give us time to prepare for their arrival," my father said with a nod. "Take any wounded men to the healer, and let the others go home and rest." He turned his gaze to the weary men standing behind their leader. "Good job, all of you. I am in your debt."

He moved forward to give each man a handshake, and as soon as he left, the people started crowding around them—eager to hear the details about their journey and what they saw. Most of the men politely excused themselves to retreat home and see their family, but a couple men stayed behind to bask in the attention.

"Yeah—there were even more mo'o in their land than there are here!" one of the men exclaimed, making wild hand gestures.

I turned to see Amura standing beside me, absorbing every detail with wide-eyed wonder. As much as I wanted to know about their journey, I was feeling wiped out by my near-drowning experience. I could hear all the details later.

"Hey, I'm going to head home," I said, and Amura's eyes snapped back over to meet mine.

"All right, I can walk you back—"

I let out a snort, giving her a challenging smile. "I'm not an invalid, Amura. I'll be fine. You want to stay here and listen anyway."

She smiled in response. "I'll come over later."

With a small wave, I set off for home. When I finally made it to our large, thatched roof house, I managed to sneak past my father and head up to my room on the second floor. After reaching my room I grabbed a long skirt that reached down to my ankles and slipped it on. I laid down on my bed and let out a sigh.

As soon as my head hit the soft pillow, I fell asleep.

I wrote this in July of 2015, when we only knew the basic premise of Moana and the names of some characters. At the time, Moana's mother was not included in the list, so a lot of us just sort of assumed she was dead, since Disney has a record of doing that sort of thing in the past. But with the short plot description we were given and the names of characters, my imagination ran wild with ideas, and thus, this was the result. It's AU now, of course, but after I saw the movie I realized some of the themes/character traits of Moana in my story were the same in the movie, so I decided to add Moana's gramma and just publish it.

This version will have more characters from polynesian mythology that weren't featured in the movie, and borrows more heavily on Hawaiian culture that I researched before seeing the movie. But hopefully the spirit of this story will feel the same as the movie. Hope you enjoy! And let me know in the comments if you'd like to see more! :)