Open Chronicles The Great Eruption of Mauna Toa

[Manawa Waata]

​

The island of Toru Gawa was in grave danger. Mauna Toa, the great volcano at the center of the island, was primed to erupt on a scale never seen before.

Manawa Waata had seen it, heard it, from the spirits of fire. In this vision he experienced there was nothing left, the island destroyed entirely in the cataclysm.

And, at present, there were not enough boats to evacuate everyone.

* * * * *​

Toru Gawa, even without the volcano, was a hotbed of tension. Three distinct factions all cohabitated on the small island in an uneasy truce with one another.

On the southern and western side, there were of course the native Nazrani. They were of a small tribe known as the Apia. Friendly and cordial enough, they nonetheless maintained a certain distance with outsiders; they were content to live and let live, however wary their dealings with those of the other two factions.

On the northern side, there was the Cortosi Expedition. They owned the largest and most established town on the island, and often stayed inside of its walls, only occasionally sending out bands of "explorers." What were they doing, exactly? None could say, and the Cortosans wouldn't tell. Perhaps they were gauging whether or not Toru Gawa would be worth the effort of colonization, or perhaps (given the presence of priests and priestesses) it had something to do with a holy mission from the Radiant Church.

Lastly on the eastern side, there was the Anirian Navy. When first they had arrived on Toru Gawa they represented the Great Houses, and now they represented the newly-formed Anirian Republic. Regardless, their mission remained the same: protect and oversee the mining and extracting operations of the island's vast mineral wealth. The Navy had the largest numbers of vessels among the three--or did, seeing as a number of ships had been called elsewhere in past few weeks.

And every so often, these three factions would send delegates to meet on neutral grounds, in a building nicknamed the "Truce House."

* * * * *

THE TRUCE HOUSE​

Give thanks to Paoro, whose stalwart heart beats in the soil!

For as soon as Manawa had set foot on Toru Gawa, he felt a soreness in the land, like a man who had sparred far too many times in one day. He had spoken to the Apia, and yes, their shamans too had felt disturbances, many disturbances, but they had not yet determined what their visions had been trying to tell them. Manawa journeyed to the base of the great volcano Mauna Toa, its column of smoke rising lazily toward the heavens, and communed there with the spirits of the land. Once. Twice. Three times, so he had! And on this third time did he overhear not the spirits of earth, but of fire.

And the news was grave. A tide of fire and smoke, of lava and ash, consuming everything, quenched only by the waters of the sea. Manawa had warned the Apia Tribe, yet they were conflicted about trusting him. They had heard of the Māo'ilani's reputation, and some among the Apia refused to believe anything he would say solely on account of this. It was...shocking, but Manawa did not--could not--let himself be deterred.

So he had come here to this place, in a clearing in the jungle, called the "Truce House."

It was a building made of planks of wood. Something Manawa had never seen before--only heard about from the Storytellers, who remembered the adventures of Voyagers past. Each plank was smooth, cut the same as all the rest. What incredible craftsmanship! But could a strong enough wind still blow it down? Toparutangi could be quite fierce at times with his mighty gales!

Yet it was beside the point. Here, the Apia, the men called Cortosans, and the men called Anirians, would all meet. Here, Manawa could make the plea that everyone had to leave the island as soon as possible--there was no telling exactly when Mauna Toa would erupt!

Manawa stood by the side of the Truce House. Over the tops of the jungle trees he could see the peak of Mauna Toa, that lazy smoke stack still flowing from its open summit and carving a thick gray line through the blue sky. Others were gathering around the Truce House: fellow Nazrani of the Apia Tribe, robed men and women of the Cortosans, and men wearing metal who were the Anirians. They all talked among themselves and did not mingle. How strange! If things were not so dire, Manawa would have loved to speak casually with these Cortosans, with these Anirians, and hear of what lands they hailed from! Yet none of these other people seemed very much interested in speaking with one another, save inside of this strange house made of wood.

Slowly, delegates and their retinues were coming.

Once all had arrived, the conference would begin inside.

 

[Gerra]

Amongst the men of Cortos loomed a hooded figure, taller than the rest. His robes were black and he wore his hood low, hiding his features. One well-versed in Cortosi magics might assume him the creation of an artificer, a golem of steel and stone, not flesh and blood. And he moved with a lumbering gait.

He filed into the Truce House with the rest of the delegation from the Expedition, unnoticeable in his muddy woolen cloak and simple shoes save for his unnatural height.

The other Cortosi certainly vied for the spotlight, with oiled mustachios and plumed caps, they strutted about like peacocks. Only these peacocks bore spurs. Hands on their rapier hilts, the brash men of the coast seemed aching for a fight with their long-hated rivals of the Quatreville wars... the Anirians. Perhaps cooler heads among them might prevail, such as the somber priest of the Solar Choir, whose red robes marked him out as a faithful devotee to the Radiant Church of Cortos, that singular faith which seemed to bind those divergent petty kings together.

 

[Manawa Waata]

"Manawa."

One of the wise women of the Apia: Fiafia. She stood before him, walking stick in one hand, craning her neck to look up to him. She'd the telltale look of one on the precipice of making a request.

"Yes, Wise One?"

Fiafia cast glances to the others assembling outside of the Truce House--to their fellow Nazrani, to the Anirians in them gleaming armor, to the Cortosans with their feathered hats--as did Manawa along with her. Such a diverse array of peoples each from their own lands! Had they not come here to this meeting place in good faith and in good will? Was this not a place for peace and for talk? And surely they would heed the word Manawa had come to tell them, for it was their own lives at stake. So what was there for the wise woman Fiafia to be concerned about?

In a low voice, she said to him, "Manawa, do not speak of Mauna Toa in the parley."

He blinked. Shook in his head in bewilderment. Said, "That is why I have come, Wise One. There is no more important news on which to speak!"

Others were filing into the building, a slow trickle at first and then everyone was in motion. Fiafia said, "Come. And remember what I have said."

* * * * *​

Inside the Truce House was a sparse interior. Footsteps echoed on the wooden floors, warm air from the outside flowed in through the glassless windows. A single long table was in the center of the sole room, and there were no chairs. Upon this table food from each of the delegations was placed: perhaps hollow gestures, perhaps merely ones done to fulfill a minimum standard of cordiality. There was some light eating before any official talks began--and, Manawa noticed, no hands seemed to cross over to food that was not brought by one's own delegation. With rueful amusement, Manawa wondered why even bring and present food as though it were a feast for all, if such was how these men and women would act.

Manawa ate of the plate of fish brought by the Apia, and (perhaps boldly), reached over to grab some of the bread rolls brought by the Cortosans. Brief, wordless stares from the Cortosans who saw him do it, but nothing other than that. As he ate, his attention gravitated toward the tallest man in the Truce House, the Cortosan in the black robes. Ha ha, what hearty meals his family must have provided for him, what rich bounties of the sea and the land he must have enjoyed! Was it not a wonderful thing that such good fortune had come to him? In that man rested the colossal strength of Toparutangi, and much good may it do him!

Captain Isenward, Commander of the Anirian Navy stationed at Toru Gawa, began the conference:

"Now then, Cortosans, let us address the matter of last week's trespass upon our territory by your priests."

And there was a sharp counter from among the Cortosans, "How would you even define it as your territory?"

Back and forth it went. Little squabbles, technicalities, barely restrained jabs at either side. The Nazrani were occasionally consulted to clarify this point or that point, and other than that they stayed quiet, and the Anirians and Cortosans did much of the talking. Manawa began to feel as though he were stuck in some quagmire filled a thousand tiny conflicts. But opportunity came. When Captain Isenward turned to the Nazrani again and said with regard to some moot point, "And what say you, people of the Apia?" he had to take it.

Manawa spoke up in a loud and clear voice, declaring, "Mauna Toa is set to erupt, and this eruption will claim the entirety of Toru Gawa and all who stand on its earth."

Silence overcame the Truce House.

The Anirians and the Cortosans glanced among each other, and to their counterparts across the table, all with uncertainty and suspicion. Fiafia tugged roughly on Manawa's belt, but he did not heed the Wise Woman. These people needed to hear the truth. And they now had heard it.

Gerra