A long time ago the creatures of the seas and skies settled on the scattered islands known as Thronn’s First Steps, that the godling had made as he danced laughing and playing across the sea with his grandmother. And these folk came to settle across the shores of the Steps in bands, each one establishing villages on different islands. But on the island of Nuala-mea, the First Step, the Sea Lion clan and the clan of Pelicans arrived at the same time, and both built villages on each side of the island. All was well at first, but soon enough one of the Pelicans accused a Sea Lion of stealing his catch of fish. At first there was arguing, and then there was theft, and soon enough, both of the clans were engaged in fighting across the island. Nobody knows who struck the first blow, but the Pelicans emerged victorious, and the Sea Lions fled Nuala-mea. But the Pelican clan was not satisfied, and their leader said, “How are we to know that the Sea Lions won’t come back, or steal the fish away to their islands? We must make sure we are safe!” And the other Pelicans looked at each other with greed in their hearts, and nodded in agreement. And so it was for many years that the clans fought across the Steps.

Now in those days there lived a Sea Lion woman, and she was called Hinaeh, or She Who Carries, for she was strong and proud, and could lift as much or more than any man. The weapons and the tools that she made were much sought after by others, and she was up with the morning sun to haul nets or to carry canoes down to the shore until the sun was again drowned in the sea. The elders saw also that she carried her family and community on her broad shoulders, and for this also was she called Hinaeh. She and her people had settled on a small island within the Steps, cradled in a bay by the green slopes of a much larger island crescent that was split in the middle by a narrow channel leading out to where the sea met the sky. This larger island was called the Cradle, and their home they called the Sleeping Child. Both islands were plentiful with fruit and game, and the waters of the bay gleamed with fish that flashed liked silver.

In time the fighting between the clans became fierce enough to come to the Sleeping Child. Pelican clan members appeared in the bay, demanding half the islanders’ catch as well as worked tools, canoes, and other tribute. The islanders looked at each other nervously, but Hinaeh stepped forward and lifted her chin. “There are many fish in the seas, cousin. Come, and help us; haul a net, and you may borrow our best spear, our adze and hatchets.” 
The biggest of the Pelicans laughed a cruel laugh, and he said, “No, we will not help you - you will catch the fish for us, and we will take your adze and hatchets, for we are better than you Sea Lions, it is right that we have these things.” And he clacked his beak menacingly, and spread his great wings wide. “In three days we shall return, me and my brothers, and take what you have gathered from the sea. Or we shall take our tribute in blood, and bring your children to our villages to work for us.” And then he and the other Pelicans laughed again, and departed.

The islanders gathered together that evening in the elders house, and there was a great noise of talk and voices as they decided what to do. Some had fear grip their hearts, and argued that they should do as the Pelicans said. Others pounded their chests, declaring hotly that they should fight these Pelicans, for this was their island. All of them then looked to Hinaeh, and the room quieted. She rose from the floor and spoke. “Those who are older, who have children or wish to flee, you go and take the the narrow way, and hide on the far side of the Cradle. I, and any who wish to stand with me, shall fight these Pelicans and to draw their attention. In this way, you shall be safe.” And the Sleeping Children nodded, and left to begin preparations in their own ways.

After three days a great gathering of Pelicans returned to find Hinaeh standing alone on the shore of Sleeping Child. Their leader stepped forward and took her in, and his laugh this time was something rotten. “So,” he said, “you are all that the Sea Lions of this island have to offer, then?”

“No,” said Hinaeh, and she smiled at the great Pelican before her. “We offered you kindness, when first you came. Now we offer you our teeth and claws.” And with that, the water around them erupted as the Sleeping Children who had stayed to fight fell upon the Pelicans. Hinaeh lunged for their leader, the blade of her fishing spear glinting like light on the water, but he batted it away. Again she leaped, and this time her spear danced around his wing and scored deep into his shoulder.

“Destroy them!” screamed the leader, and before Hinaeh could attack again he had vanished into the ranks of the Pelicans. All about her the sea ran red, splashing up into her eyes until her vision was nothing but blood and rage. Her people fought all around her, but the Pelicans were too many, and she threw herself against them in desperate hope that some might survive. The two clans slammed against one another like waves against a stony shore as the sun climbed high above them, and as it sank towards the horizon the fighting ebbed, and Hinaeh found herself, once again, alone. All about her lay the broken bodies of her friends and foes, the gentle lapping of the waves cradling the fallen. Hinaeh let out a high cry of grief and pain, collapsing into the surf as the sky above was stained with the dying sun. She closed her eyes, knowing that her family was safe, and wished for the great ocean to take her.

Hinaeh awoke to a cry sounding from further up the shore. She pulled herself up and dragged herself towards it, hoping that some member of her band had survived, but instead she found a Pelican draped across a rock, his wings twisted and feathers torn and fluttering beneath the moon. Rage and fury twisted in her gut, but again he cried out softly and his one eye opened to regard her. “Ha-“ he coughed, and blood dribbled from his beak. “Have you come to kill me?” And Hinaeh felt sorrow flood her heart at his despair, dousing the fire of her anger. Bending painfully, she lifted him onto her broad shoulders, and carried him away to a place she knew in the hills of the Cradle.

His name was Aeli'ou, or He Who Knows the Winds, and Hinaeh made for them a small hut by a spring that ran cool and clear, and she picked sweet fruits from the trees for them to eat. As her strength returned she fished from the streams nearby, and wrapped her catch in leaves to bake on hot stones so they did not risk a fire. And as they rested in the heat of the day she told him stories of her people, the Sea Lions, to make him laugh. And as Aeli'ou recovered, he began to tell her the stories of the Pelican clan, of fierce and jealous winds and great legends of mighty heroes. At first she thought it only his stories, and he the way she made him laugh, but as their battered hearts mended they slowly grew together until Hinaeh woke in the morning smiling at his gentle snores, and Aeli'ou stopped in his weaving to watch her fish, his eyes following her graceful curves. And when the moon rose high into the sky they lay down together, and he cradled Hinaeh in his great wings, whispering his love for her. “Even though I am a Pelican,” he said, “I would stay with you, if you will have me.”
Hinaeh smiled at him then. “I would have you, Aeli'ou, until the end of our days. But I am the only one left who knows where the Sleeping Children have gone, and I do not think your clan will let us be so easily.”

“Then I shall renounce them!” he said to the sky, “And never will I ask you where your people have gone, if we can hide here on this island, away from Pelicans, and battle, and fighting.” And together they spent the days tangled in each other, in peace and in passion, until one morning when Hinaeh woke to the sounds of the spring and forest, once again alone.

Her breathing became ragged as she searched the camp for signs of her partner, tossing baskets and tools aside. His sleeping mat had been torn open, and upon it rested a single feather, gleaming white and tinged with pink. Hinaeh’s vision blurred, and she screamed in rage and the pain of knowing that the Pelicans had at last found them, that perhaps she would not see Aeli’ou again. She took up her spear and tied the feather to it. Dipping it into the spring, she swore vengeance before the gods of sea and sky and set off in pursuit of those who had taken her lover. Down from the hills of the Cradle she came, and there on the shore she found another feather, one she recognized as the gentle browns and creams of Aeli’ou. Her heart leapt with hope that he was alive, that she would find him and save him, and onwards she sped. And each time she wavered and found herself sinking into despair, another feather floated before her on the winds, catching in her fur and renewing her resolve. For days and nights she traveled, and those who saw her quailed and fled from her terrible rage.

As the sun sank once again into the sea she came upon the camp of the Pelican clan, their raucous cries echoing in the orange light of days’ end. Out of the setting sun she came, and the first of the Pelicans fell without even knowing she was there. The second and third fell as the rest stood in stunned confusion, and Hinaeh bellowed in fury. Falling back, the Pelican clan spread their wings and clacked their beaks, and fear lit their eyes even as they surged forward against her, and they broke against the stone of her spear and her rage. More and more fell, but their beaks and spears had left a dozen marks scored on Hinaeh before she came upon the Pelican leader. “Give up, woman,” he said, “and tell us where your people have gone. And then you can join your lover again.” And Hinaeh heard the poison in his words, and she growled like an oncoming squall. His sword flashed out and sank deep into her chest, but she fell upon him and crushed him against the shore until his laugh was drowned in the foam.

Gasping, she arose and limped up into the camp, crying out for Aeli’ou. She fell, arose, fell once more, and her vision began to blur when she heard a familiar call. With the last of her strength she came to the place where Aeli’ou lay bound and bleeding, and she cut him free before she crashed down into the sand.

She awoke to the gentle lapping of waves, and her clouded mind thought she had passed on to the ocean currents to join her ancestors. A gentle touch of a wing stirred her once more to life, and above her she saw Aeli’ou, and felt the rock of the canoe in which he had placed her. “Hinaeh!” he said, and tears dripped from his eyes to mingle with the seawater. “You came for me, my love.”

Hinaeh gazed upon him, and could not find her voice. She nodded, and at last spoke. “I did, my Aeli’ou, and I have spilled much blood into the sea to do so. And I know I would do so again, even though it stains my soul.”

“Then let us leave this place,” said Aeli’ou, “and go to join your Sleeping Children, away from the fighting of the clans. And there we can live in peace, where the seafoam runs white and clear.” And so he once again took up his paddle, and the sailed off to the place where the sea met the sky, and beyond to where the winds live and the stars danced across the heavens. And we still see them today, sailing together across the night to the place of the Sleeping Children, guiding us home to gentle shores.