Chapter Text
Maui made it as far as the line of tentacle-palm trees beyond the geyser field before his hands began to shake. The adrenaline ebbed and with it fled his composure and cool demeanor. An unexpected wave of nausea swept over him suddenly. He stepped swiftly off the path, dropped his hook and the war club into the dirt, and was quietly sick between the glowing fronds of coral polyp bushes. Kneeling in the soft earth, he shook his head to clear it and lifted an arm to wipe at his mouth. He stopped, however, when he saw the streaks of blue blood on his hands. He stared numbly at stains on his skin, slowly drying to a dark patina even in the damp air.
What had he done?
Tamatoa had been his best and only friend for centuries. How had things spiraled so far out of control as to get to this point? He hadn't meant for things to go this way.
Maui cringed at the very thought, unable to tear his gaze away from the damning evidence painted on his skin. He had expected a fight, of course, as Tamatoa would never have given up one of his treasures willingly--particularly not this one, owing to their own sordid history behind it. Maui's intent, however, had been to just tire the crab out, snatch the club while he was winded, and then simply fly off with it. It should have been easy. Tamatoa, though, seemed to be out for blood. For the very first time, Maui was truly convinced that the monstrous crab was willing to kill him. There had been a vicious malice in the crab that Maui had not been expecting to ever see aimed his way. Then there were the things that Tamatoa had said.
It had cut him to the very bone, worse than any physical blow. Was he really no better than his own parents? Was he really nothing without his hook? In the moment, it had made him angry beyond rationality. So angry that he had--
His stomach churned. No, he couldn't think about that.
The anger had faded now, though, and the crab's words weighed heavily on him. It was true that he had left Tamatoa on that island, but he had always meant to come back! He had been on his way, but the humans were just so needy. He'd just been busy, that's all. It was totally different from what his parents had done to him. Completely different, he assured himself again. Besides, it didn't excuse Tamatoa for luring humans to his island and eating them.
Maui stared at his bloody hands.
He felt as if there were eyes upon him--knowing eyes peering out of the unforgiving Lalotai landscape and looking down upon him with unrelenting accusation. This realm was truly ancient and it seemed to Maui as if the very land itself was casting judgement upon him--upon Maui, who had fought and killed countless monsters over the years of his long life. He had defeated countless monsters and one friend.
He could still hear an echo ringing in his ears of the awful cracking sound.
Maui fought a wave of renewed nausea back down, then took a deep, steadying breath. He hadn't meant to do it, but he had. If he hadn't done it, he told himself, the crab monster would have killed him. He only did what he had to.
These excuses seemed flimsy even to Maui.
Nevertheless, he forced himself to swallow his own thin justifications. As the Hero of Men, defeating monsters was in his job description. What was he without all that? With great effort, he looked away from his hands--breaking the spell of guilt laid upon him. He took another breath, then glanced around himself at the wildly colored terrain. Despite himself, his gaze was drawn up the hill towards the towering shell structure. A small voice within him urged him to go back and--and what? He didn't know and so he squashed the thought immediately. What he had done could not be undone.
Instead, he steadied himself, wiped the bloody evidence from his hands in the dust beneath him, gathered his hook and the war club, and returned to his feet. Whatever the cost, he had done what he set out to do. He had retrieved Haunui and could now put an end to the conflict brewing amongst the mortals. This would prove he wasn't nothing. He was Maui. Shapeshifter. Demigod of the Wind and Sea. Hero of Men.
He'd show them that he was someone.
With a flash of his hook, he transformed once more into a hawk. He took up the jewel-encrusted war club in his talons and leapt into the air. He spared a last regretful glance back down at the glowing realm beneath his wings as he spiraled upward, then he was racing back up to the surface world where the mortals awaited.
Maui was treated with joyous praise when he arrived back in the village of Mitiaru and it soothed the ache in his chest. He wasted no time, instructing the chieftain to send an emissary to the rival chief of Etena and summoning them to peace talks. He left the war club behind in his canoe for now, preferring not to reveal it until all were gathered and they could all properly appreciate his gift and the peace that would surely follow.
It took two weeks for the chief of Etena to arrive and she did not arrive alone. Indeed, she had arrive with a small fleet of war canoes. The sails and rigging of these canoes reflected a diverse group, spanning the styles of several other island tribes. The chieftain of Etena had brought her allies, obviously prepared for war if the talks fell through or perhaps she simply did not trust the summons. Either way, it added tension that cut through the revelry that the people of Mitiaru had indulged in since Maui had returned.
Clearly, however, the chief of Mitiaru had expected such a thing, as shortly afterwards there were more sails on the horizon. Another small flotilla approached, their fluttering sails adorned with the livery of Mitiaru's allies. Both fleets remained just offshore, sails reefed and yet waiting with cold anticipation.
In this dire atmosphere, the chief of Etena made landfall in a small canoe and she brought along a handful of warriors as her guard as well. Despite all this, Maui was confident that everything was going to work out. He had Haunui, which would enforce peace. Everything would be fine.
While the two rival chieftains proceeded to the meeting house, Maui slipped back to his canoe to retrieve the club. Pulling it from the hold, he lifted it up into the late afternoon sunlight to look it over. It was much as he remembered, heavy and made from solid gold with dark rubies like blood trailing down the sides from its head. It glittered in the slanting sunlight. So much trouble over this gaudy thing.
He tucked it under his arm and headed back to the village.
Negotiations were already underway when he entered the meeting house, the two rival chiefs seated across from one another and flanked by their supporters. All talk ceased, however, and all eyes fell upon Maui as he entered.
With a cocky grin, Maui held up the war club with both hands and placed it upon a mat in the center of the gathering. "I give you Haunui," he announced with a dramatic flourish, "the golden club of ancient legend, to bring a lasting peace to your people."
There was a brief silence, in which all mortal eyes fell upon the gleaming war club. Then a harsh, buzzing murmur ran through the crowd. It seemed to build slowly, with a sharp tension like rigging straining in a storm. Then the room exploded into fierce battle.
Maui's face fell, a look of shock replacing one of triumph.
Humans were scrambling to get their hands on the club, struggling amongst themselves. Weapons were snatched up and both warriors and villagers alike joined the fray. Maui desperately tried to stop them, but they were deaf to his cries. They ignored him entirely, focused completely on their own fight. Attempting to separate them were futile, as there were so many locked in combat. Maui was unwilling to use his full strength and potentially harm them, too.
Aghast and at a loss, Maui could only watch in sheer horror as the mortals began to slaughter one another. He didn't know what to do, utterly adrift. The club was supposed to bring peace, not fighting! That's what the legends all claimed.
Legends, it would seem, were not always true to how they are told. Perhaps peace followed in the aftermath of Haunui, but peace did not accompany it where it was present.
Something about the club had spurred violence and strife amongst the humans. Maui couldn't understand how this could happen. After all, it hadn't effected him like this, had it? Perhaps humans were more susceptible or--
A sudden and distressing thought crept in, but Maui was in no place to entertain it in the midst of all this chaos. There was no time to think about it now.
Desperate to undo this mess, Maui could think of only one thing to do. He had to get the golden war club out of here. He searched the mayhem around him for it and finally spied it. Two mortals were clinging to it, locked into a fierce struggle to take it for themselves--kicking and flailing their fists at each other with a feral energy. Determined to make this right, Maui waded through the crowd towards them. They paid him no heed until he grabbed ahold of the club and firmly shook them both loose from it, an easy feat with his superior strength.
Denied their prize, they both turned on him with fierce anger. Screaming insults, they pounded on him ineffectively with their fists. Maui stared for a moment, unable to hide his shock. Their feeble blows were barely noticeable, but the impact of them hurt more than physical wounds. He was only trying to help them and now they were set against him. Still, he had to brush it aside and focus on getting the club out of here. Maybe then the humans would calm down.
Holding Haunui close to his chest with one hand, he used his free hand to clear a path out of the brawl as gently as possible. Humans were fragile and he didn't want to accidentally hurt them. Well, not any more than they were hurting themselves at least. Some tried to take the club from him, but were firmly rebuffed as he made his way through.
Finally, he made it through the crowd and into the open air outside the meeting house. The sun was long since set by now, but the moonlight illuminated the island brightly as Maui raced towards the beach. Humans were scrambling in all directions as he passed, some rushing to join the fight and others hurrying to the canoes to alert the waiting fleets. He had to stop this before it could get worse. He had to get this cursed war club as far away as possible.
Maui's canoe loomed up into view on the shore in the pale light. His hook was waiting, the rope-wrapped grip poking out of the hold. He sprinted for it and snatched it up. In a flash, he took to the skies as a hawk. The club gripped tightly, he shot across the waves with feverish wingbeats. He soared past the waiting canoes offshore, flying as fast and far as his wings could manage as he left the battle behind. The island faded from view and he zipped across the darkened seas into the night.
Finally, with the island well behind him and the deep blackness of the ocean's abyss below him, he slowed and hovered high over the shifting waves. The sea was deep here, concealing a deep submarine canyon plunging into the darkness of the earth where even the most cunning sea monsters feared to swim. No one would ever retrieve the club from here, he was certain.
He opened his talons and let Haunui slide through them, plummeting to the waters below. It split the surface with barely a splash, then sank fast into the dark water--its gleaming surface twinkling in the moonlight as it descended It was mere moments before it slipped out of sight, vanishing into the ocean's depths. Maui watched it disappear. So much trouble over that club and for what? So much had been lost on its account--more than he could even bring himself to consider. Maui wished he'd never laid eyes on it.
The legendary war club was gone now, lost forever to the depths of the abyss. Good riddance to it. Heart heavy, Maui wheeled in the air and flew back to the island--slower now and weary.
When he returned to the island, the fighting had died down to just remnants of halfhearted bickering. The humans seemed dazed and battered, with most milling about as if waking from a nightmare. The meeting house was on fire and mortals were rushing to douse the flames, frantically carrying casks of water to the blaze. There were several canoes half sunk along the shore, their masts jutting out of the shallower waters. Both the chieftains of Mitiaru and Etena were dead, along with many others from the villages.
There were no looks of blame nor words of reproach directed at Maui. Whatever had come over them when they saw Haunui, it had severely affected them and then left them more confused than anything else in its absence. They wandered about, trying to make sense of everything and largely disregarded Maui's presence entirely, cooly indifferent.
Maui did not need them to cast blame upon him, because his own guilt was doing that well enough on its own. He had made another grave error and more mortals had suffered for it. Perhaps the crab was right. Perhaps he really was nothing after all. Maybe his parents had known he was a mistake from the very start and had tossed him away for the benefit of all. These thoughts dogged him relentlessly, sending him spiraling into misery with no relief.
Despite his own crushing self-doubt, he nevertheless stayed on in the village over the successive weeks to help repair and rebuild to assuage his guilt. Even in the days that followed, no accusations or blame fell upon him. The village accepted his help with all the same gratitude and warmth as they had any of his previous heroic acts. It was as if nothing happened.
Even so, Maui still knew what happened and could not forget it. He would have to do something to make up for it--something big, something amazing.
As the days went by, an idea began to take hold as he observed up close just how much effort it took the humans to build new structures and repair canoes and replant fields. He'd never given it much thought before, but now he saw that it just took so much work for the mortals to create these things. Imagine how much easier their life would be if they could just will those things into existence.
He had once rejected the notion of doing something so recklessly ambitious as what he was now considering. It was risky and dangerous, but he had little concern for such things. He was Maui. Shapeshifter. Demigod of the Wind and Sea. Hero of Men. He could do this and succeed and there was no one who could tell him otherwise this time. Imagine how the mortals would cheer for him when he gave them his most impressive gift yet. This incident would be long forgotten and they would love him again. Maybe it would even help wash away some of the guilt that stained him now.
The next morning, he set sail to find the Heart of Te Fiti.
He would show them all that he was not nothing.
***
In the cool depths of Lalotai, Tamatoa was healing well enough after his ordeal. Several weeks ensconced safely in his lair and well fed through his wonderful skylight had brought his strength back, chasing away the weakness that had dogged him after so much blood loss and trauma. After many unsteady days of practice, he had also managed to adapt his gait to counterbalance for the missing leg and could now move with much the same speed and agility as before, to his great relief.
Nevertheless, at odd times Tamatoa could almost still feel the missing leg--a peculiar, tingling itch that served as a stark reminder of what had been done. It inevitably drew his thoughts back to the one who had done this to him--Maui. Before, he had not thought he could possibly feel more betrayed by his former friend. He had been sorely mistaken on that front, apparently. Abandoned, forgotten, exiled, and now disfigured, Tamatoa had developed an extensive litany of grievances against the demigod. The betrayal was, in a way, a more lingering and insidious pain than the agony of having his leg torn away.
Most of the time, Tamatoa burned with the desire for revenge, telling himself that the next time he encountered the misbegotten semi-god, he would skip the formalities and just eat him. Well, maybe with a little taunting first--just so Maui got the message loud and clear. Just so the demigod understood that Tamatoa wasn't just a crab that could be casually discarded and dismembered without a reckoning for it.
Other times, however, all he felt was a vast emptiness. Sometimes he would wake from some wistful dream and remember what it was like to sail with Maui, chasing adventure and treasure when they were young and without a care in the world. He would remember when they had once trusted each other completely, getting each other out of even the most potentially deadly of scrapes. It was hard to reconcile these two vastly different images of the demigod--the friend who once always had his back and the enemy who had robbed and maimed him.
Confronted with this confusing emotional quandary, he did the only thing he knew: he buried it. He took solace in his treasures and tried to push the rest away. Sometimes, he was even convinced that it worked.
It was hard to maintain such denial in the face of one other reality, however. Tamatoa had not left his lair since the fight. At first, this was simply good sense, as he was severely injured and would have been easy pickings for some other creature beyond the safety of his walls in the wilds of Lalotai. Only a fool would have ventured outside in such a state. Weeks upon weeks had passed, though, since he had fully recovered and still he had not stepped outside for even a moment.
He made excuses to himself, trying to justify it all away. There was nothing out there he needed right now. He was well supplied right where he was. He was perfectly comfortable here. What else could he possibly want? Anything to avoid addressing the fact that his confidence has been severely eroded by all that had transpired. Anything to avoid thinking about--
"Psst!" An unexpected voice broke into his thoughts. "Yoo-hoo, handsome crab!"
His misery and self-pity interrupted, Tamatoa looked up. There was no mistaking that chipper voice and, as if on cue, the brightly marked orange and yellow spider stepped uninvited into his lair.
Well, Tamatoa was in no mood for guests. He was about to say so in no uncertain terms and with a properly backed up threat to drive the point home. Yet even as he opened his mouth to tell her to get lost, he was quickly cut off by Hereiti.
"No time for that," she teased, brushing off whatever threat he was about to issue. "Herenui doesn't know I'm here. She said to leave you to mope like a petulant child and that you'd snap out of it eventually," the spider bubbled, blithely innocent of the growing scowl on Tamatoa's face at these words. "She also said I shouldn't tell you what happened, because it'd be no good for you. But I think you'll like this!
Tamatoa's irritation did not diminish, but his curiosity was piqued nevertheless. He gave her an impatient and vaguely threatening look. "Well, let's hear it," he demanded.
Hereiti giggled, that odd and eerie sound but with a conspiratorial note this time. "So cute when you think you're being scary," she chirped. Before he could protest, however, she went on. "That demigod--the one who ripped your poor leg off--" Tamatoa's scowl returned, eyes narrowing bitterly. He did not need the reminder, thank you very much. "--well, he stole the Heart of Te Fiti."
Tamatoa blinked, surprise writ large on his face and smothering his annoyance. That was a treasure they had considered pursuing centuries ago, but they had both ultimately decided was far too risky a thing to even attempt. Tempting though it was--and it was very tempting--stealing from the mother goddess was tantamount to suicide. Even if they somehow managed to survive getting it, they still had no idea what might happen if they were successful. What could possibly have driven the idiot to go after it?
Hereiti laughed again, clearly delighted by his reaction to her gossip. "That's not all!" she exclaimed. "When he tried to get away, a lava creature called Te Ka emerged from the depths." The spider paused, her emerald eyes gleaming with devious mirth. "She kicked his butt!"
A wide grin slowly spread across Tamatoa's face.
The spider continued with a grin of her own, "she knocked him right out of the sky. He lost both the Heart and his hook into the sea!"
His antennae perked at this. Many things lost to the sea eventually filtered down here. Could it be possible that--
"And," Hereiti said with emphasis, breaking into his thoughts once again, "it's said that he's trapped now, stuck alone on some tiny rock in the middle of the ocean with no hook and no escape."
Oho, there was justice in the world after all.
Tamatoa began to laugh. Once started, he could hardly contain himself and the rather malicious laughter that consumed him. How fitting that, after dumping him for what seemed like centuries on an isolated dirt pile, the demigod would find himself stranded on some rocky heap of his own to rot for all eternity.
"See! I thought that would cheer you up!" Hereiti piped up brightly.
That was putting it mildly, to say the least. When Tamatoa managed to get his laughter under control, he flashed the spider a nastily triumphant grin. "I think it's time to go on a little treasure hunt," he mused aloud, an eager glint in his eyes. "That hook is going to be mine."
Excited as he was, he barely spared the spider a second glance as he shoved open the hidden doorway and stepped out of his lair for the first time in months.
Behind him, he thought he heard the spider squeak in alarm as he rushed out. "Oh dear, Herenui isn't going to like this--"
Tamatoa gave her words no further thought. If Maui's fishhook had ended up here, he would find it one way or the other. That would be fair recompense, he decided, for the leg he had lost and the blow to his dignity that he had sustained. He'd scour every inch of this realm until the found it. If he found the Heart of Te Fiti with it as well, that would only sweeten the victory. It was the hook he craved, though--a trophy to surpass all others.
It took him weeks of searching, chasing rumor and whispers to all corners of Lalotai. Persistence paid off, though, and at long last, he had tracked it down.
Tamatoa was not the only monster with an eye to claim the hook, however. When he finally found where the hook had landed, there were already several other creatures large and small squabbling over it. He hesitated, his confidence still shaken in the aftermath of his embarrassing defeat. For a brief moment, he considered turning back and just leaving it to them.
Then he caught a glimpse of it--Maui's fishhook, embedded upright in the ground where it had fallen from the world above. The sight of it filled him with purpose. That hook was his due and no lesser monster was going to deter him from having it. Not a chance.
With a growling roar and claws snapping, he leapt among them.
Even with a missing leg, he was clearly still a formidable threat and a force to be reckoned with. Startled monsters either scattered in terror or joined the fray, but he made short work of them all nonetheless. In the end, none who had brazenly dared try to claim the hook were spared his wrath.
Surrounded by the carnage he had wrought upon the other creatures, he smiled smugly and with vicious satisfaction. His claws still splashed with blood, he stepped to where the hook was waiting. With deft, yet delicate, precision he plucked it from its resting place. Lifting his prize up, he brought it close to his face to look upon it with a sanguine smile. Maui's fishhook was his now.
He placed the hook on the very apex of his shell--the pièce de résistance of his collection, surrounded by his beautiful, shiny treasures painstakingly assembled over the countless centuries of his life.
Tamatoa cast a defiant glare up at the rippling underside of the ocean above him, placid and silently indifferent to the struggles of the two nearly ageless beings separated by it.
See, Maui? Not just a crab now, am I?
And something in the Ocean was stirred.