Hi'iaka

The air in the Halemaʻumaʻu crater hums with heat, a constant song from the heart of the earth. My name is Hiʻiaka, and this volcano, Kīlauea, is my home, a home I share with my powerful, fiery-tempered older sister, Pele. One morning, she awoke from a deep sleep with a faraway look in her eyes, telling me of a handsome chief she met in a dream, a man named Lohiʻau from the far-off island of Kauaʻi. She was consumed by love and demanded I undertake a great journey to bring him to her. This is the story of that quest, the epic of Hiʻiakaikapoliopele. I agreed, but only after she made a solemn vow: to protect my sacred groves of ʻōhiʻa lehua trees and my dearest friend, Hōpoe, who danced among them. With her promise secured, I set out, leaving the warmth of the volcano for the unknown dangers that lay across the islands.

The journey was far longer and more treacherous than I could have ever imagined. The Hawaiian archipelago is beautiful, but it holds ancient powers and fearsome guardians. With my faithful companion Wahineʻōmaʻo, I traveled from island to island, facing challenges that tested my spirit and my strength. On Oʻahu, we battled the great moʻo, a terrifying lizard-like monster, at a freshwater spring. I used my divine strength and my wits to defeat it, making the waters safe for the people there. I navigated treacherous sea channels where sharks patrolled and climbed cliffs that seemed to touch the sky. Along the way, I used my knowledge of the ʻāina, the land, to find herbs for healing and to understand the secrets of the natural world. Each step was a struggle, and each victory was a testament to my resolve to keep my promise to Pele.

When I finally arrived on the misty, green island of Kauaʻi, my heart sank. I learned that Lohiʻau, despairing that Pele would ever send for him, had died of a broken heart. His body was in a cave, guarded by his grieving people. But my quest was not over. My powers are not just of the living world; I can walk between realms. I followed his spirit into the underworld, a shadowy place where lost souls wander. There, I chanted and performed sacred rites, calling his spirit back from the brink. It was a difficult and draining task, but I managed to capture his soul and carefully guide it back to his body. With powerful incantations, I breathed life back into Lohiʻau, restoring him completely. He was alive again, and my mission was nearly complete.

The journey back to Kīlauea was slow, and my forty-day deadline had passed. From her fiery throne, Pele gazed across the islands and saw me with Lohiʻau. Her heart, always quick to burn, filled with a terrible, mistaken jealousy. Believing I had betrayed her and taken Lohiʻau for myself, she unleashed her volcanic fury. In her rage, she broke her promise to me. She sent rivers of lava to destroy my beautiful ʻōhiʻa forests, turning the vibrant red blossoms to ash. Worst of all, she turned my beloved friend Hōpoe into a pillar of stone. When I returned and saw the devastation, my heart shattered. The joy of my successful quest turned to ash, just like my sacred groves. It was a lesson in the destructive power of jealousy and the pain of a broken promise.

My story, the epic of Hiʻiakaikapoliopele, became more than just a memory. It became a chant, a mele, passed down through generations of Hawaiians. It is danced in the hula, where the movements tell of my journey, my battles, and my sorrow. The story explains the creation of landmarks across the islands and the relationship between the ʻōhiʻa lehua tree and the volcano. It teaches about loyalty, love, and the terrible consequences of mistrust. Though born of fire and sorrow, my story lives on as a vibrant part of Hawaiian culture, inspiring artists, dancers, and storytellers. It reminds us that the land itself holds stories, and that the bonds of family, though sometimes tested by fire, are the most powerful forces of all.