The Inbetween

This is my entry to the Trials of the Ancestors Hideout Competition, inspired by Arohongui and Hinekora. Below is a lil short story that explains this concept further. 

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The air fills with the clatter of swords and armor, of both victors and vanquished. From east to west you see blades and bones sticking out of men and beast alike. Steel pierce the earth, rich iron flowing out of enemies and friends and into the roots of the land. Is the cycle of life always this violent? 

The rest of the village reanimates to tend to the wounded and reunite with loved ones. Others are not as fortunate. 

Near you, soft sobs somehow break through the busyness. A child, surely no more than twelve years old, kneels next to a wounded solider. He gently brushes the man’s forehead, leaving streaks of mud across the soldier’s face. 

They would have looked pretty identical if the man didn’t have a small gash running from shoulder to chest and several cuts on his chin. 

At a glance the man looks like every corpse around you. If you were feeling a bit more generous, you’d probably even volunteer to bury this man in his final resting place. Thankfully the almost imperceptible rising and falling of his chest frees you from any heroic duty. You’re in no condition to be doing any heavy lifting right now.

“I’m sorry, papa. I’m sorry I couldn’t be by your side. I kept running until mama and pepi were safe - just like you taught me. Just like we did every single morning.” He looks down at his hands and you see small protrusions at the base of his fingers - the kind you get from trying to grip a much heavier steelsword in your hand. “ I told you I was ready to fight. I’m sorry for leaving you alone.”

The child wets his fingers and draws muddy symbols on the soldier’s forehead. He draws a large circle in the middle of the forehead and three smaller circles equidistant from each other. The child reaches into a makeshift pack and produces a tiny pebble and places it on the rightmost circle. You recognize this as a farewell rite - a protective “ward” to send fallen warriors into the Halls of the Dead. 

Does he not see his father is still breathing?

You shuffle a little and let your armor clatter with the hilt of your sword. The sound alerts the child to your presence as intended. He sits up suddenly, his hand falling onto his father’s chest. The pebble rolls off the wounded soldier’s forehead. 

“He’s not dead, you know.” He looks at you, still startled, and then looks back at his unmoving father. The boy’s hands feel around the soldier’s chest, tracing the trail of blood pooling wider onto his father’s shirt. He gives the man a nudge. No response.  “Well, he’s not really here either.”

“That’s the Halls of the Dead ritual, right?” The child nods. Curious, but still suspicious. The fact that you recognize the rite he was performing seems to ease his mind a little. “Well, I don’t think he’s there right now. He’s somewhere around the middle.” 

He looks back at his father’s forehead and touches the smaller circle in the middle, fingers slowly tracing the mark. You nod to confirm. 

“There’s a place called The Inbetween. Te Waenganui. Ever heard of it? My people believe that we don’t go straight to the Halls of the Dead - not always at least. It is said that Arohongui herself made a deal with Hinekora to give space for the wounded and fallen, and she herself brings them to Te Waenganui.”

His eyes light up at the mention of the Moon Daughter. “Is Arohongui going to save my papa from Hinekora?”

“I don’t think Arohongui can really pluck souls away from Hinekora. I think what Arohongui offers is choice. In Te Waenganui warriors are given rest and space. They can seek respite from life or death and just be.”

“Warriors have essentially two choices in Te Waenganui. They can follow the white lights and return here”, you point at the leftmost circle on the soldier’s forehead, “Or they can follow the red lights and cross the Mother’s Garden into the Halls of the Dead. 

The Garden is Arohongui’s offering to the Mother for agreeing to her request. I heard that Arohongui herself walks with the tired warriors through the Garden where they lay their swords to rest forever, and usher their souls safely through the Halls of the Dead.”

“That sounds scary. Te Waenganui doesn’t sound like a nice place.”  

“Well, it’s quite beautiful in fact. What someone sees depends on who’s visiting. Some people see endless valleys with birds of every color lining the sky. Others awaken in a cove surrounded by mangroves. For others, it’s just an endless, unmoving lake spilling from horizon to horizon. What do you think he would see?” You gesture towards the wounded soldier. 

“Trees. Lots of trees. Maybe me and pepi running around and chasing ducks. We like swimming in the lake a lot. Then he’ll be fishing. We’ll catch a big fish, gut it, and make soup.” 

“Then that’s where he is.”

The boy glances at his father and touches his chest, his small hands now rising and falling with the soldier’s slow but steady breathing. “I hope he doesn’t follow the red lights. I hope he catches lots of fishies though.” 

He picks up the pebble and places it on the middle circle of his father’s forehead. The boy closes his eyes and begins a song. You don't recognize the words but know the melody as thanks to Arohongui.