Imagine a world ruled by fear, where violence is encouraged and the power-hungry are rewarded. On this hellish planet, children learn early that kindness is weak and love is wrong. They grow up to become sadists and psychopaths, seeking out war and wearing their scars as a badge of honor.
This planet is real. Its name is Aneatanga.
Content Warning: abuse, violence
Cover design by Madeline and Elginia Walz
Age 7 (Taisaga Whitu)
Tāwera was on his way to the archery range when his younger brother called his name. He turned around, glaring as Tariao ran up to him. The fa’karu toddler was smiling, excited. “Tāwera, look!” he said, holding out his hand.
Tāwera didn’t look, just kept glaring at his brother. Tariao hesitated only a moment, then came closer. Tāwera put a hand on his sword hilt. That stopped the child in his tracks.
Tariao’s ridiculous grin faded, but he didn’t lower his hand. “It for you,” he said. The stupid two-year-old couldn’t even talk right yet.
Tāwera looked at Tariao’s hand and saw a flat, pointed black rock. “You’re a disgrace,” Tāwera snapped. Tariao hunched his shoulders and lowered his hand, blinking back tears.
Tāwera shook his head and turned away, then stopped. He could use this to make sure he was always more powerful than his brother. “I will take it,” he said, turning around again. Tariao brightened and held out the rock. Tāwera took it. As his brother turned to go, Tāwera finished his sentence. “As a reminder to never be like you. A fool.”
Tariao sobbed and ran away. Tāwera smiled and continued to the archery range. He would keep the stone. He’d wear it where Tariao—and anyone else—could see it, and make sure everyone knew why he wore it.
His brother would never be able to rise above him.
Age 10 (Taisaga Telu)
Tāwera glared at Father, ignoring the girl who stood a few feet away. “She’s the best you could find?” he said. “Ruiha hasn’t come close to beating me since we were six.”
Whiro didn’t acknowledge his disrespect. He’d given up on that years ago. “Regardless, her family is prominent. She is the closest to equal status you will get.”
Tāwera turned his glare towards Ruiha. She glared back and crossed her arms, lifting her chin.
“Fine,” Tāwera said, “but I choose when the union happens, not you.”
Whiro scowled at him. Agreeing would make him appear less powerful than Tāwera, but Tāwera wouldn’t accept a refusal. He’d rather kill Ruiha than be forced into marriage at eighteen.
“It must happen before you are twenty-five,” Whiro said. “Any longer would disgrace our family.”
Tāwera nodded. He had fifteen years to turn this to his advantage.
Age 13 (Taisaga Telu me Tulu)
Tāwera paced in his room, trying to decide what to do. His thirteenth birthday had come and gone and he hadn’t developed a shifting ability. If he wanted to join the Whanau, he needed to be a shifter. It was a requirement of becoming a soldier. There was a way to become a shifter, even without being born one, but it was supposed to be excruciating. Tāwera didn’t mind pain—it was usually easy to ignore. Becoming a shifter unnaturally, though, was said to be so painful people had lost status simply from their reaction to the procedure. If Tāwera ever wanted to surpass his father and stay ahead of his brother, he had to join the Whanau while he was still thirteen. Being any older among the new recruits would be humiliating. He was only now gaining the respect he’d always deserved since he started gelling his curly hair flat a year ago.
I have to do it, Tāwera thought. If it hurts, I’ll ignore it like I always do. If I can’t ignore it, I’ll pretend to.
Later that day, Tāwera strode into the shifting procedure building. He was pleased to see a hint of panic on the head doctor’s face as he entered. The doctor glanced at the pointed black stone Tāwera wore on a chain around his neck. Though it had been six years since he started wearing it as leverage against his brother, it still worked. Tariao, now eight, had to work twice as hard to earn half the respect and prove he was no longer a sentimental ngalea. To others, it was a reminder that Tāwera didn’t need a weapon to destroy someone.
“Pirinise Tāwera,” the doctor said, blanking his expression and bowing, “did Whiro send you?”
“No,” Tāwera snapped. “He does not know I am here. One word from you to anyone and you will find yourself short a limb.”
The doctor’s blank expression twitched, but his voice was even when he said, “Yes, Ālau Teimaluga.”
“You will perform the procedure on me, by yourself. If your assistants question it, you know nothing.”
The doctor nodded. “Of course, Ālau Teimaluga.”
Tāwera led the way to the procedure room. “What is the most desired form?”
“Swarmers are preferred, since they are so rare.”
Tāwera put a hand on his knife. “Everyone knows swarmers must be born, not made. Now answer the question.”
“Of the forms I can provide, birds of prey are the most desired. While birds are common, true birds of prey are almost as rare as swarmers.”
“I will take that form.”
The doctor hesitated. “Ālau Teimaluga, I only have the materials for one and it has been claimed by—”
He cut off abruptly as Tāwera unsheathed his knife and pressed it to the doctor’s throat. “Perhaps instead of removing a limb, I should remove your head and put one of your assistants in your place,” Tāwera said.
The doctor swallowed. “It is yours, Ālau Teimaluga.”
“Good.” Tāwera sheathed his knife. “Let us begin.”
He sat on the exam table and lay back. He hated the vulnerability of this position, but his threat and his reputation would be enough to keep the hau’ai doctor in line.
The doctor turned on a machine beside the table. It was long and flat, about the size of a person, with a network of syringes attached underneath. He filled the syringes with a serum. The formula was kept secret, passed on from one king to the next. Tāwera would learn the secret once his father died and he took the throne.
Once the syringes were loaded, the doctor went to the controls by the wall. He positioned the machine over Tāwera and lowered it until the tips of the syringes touched his skin. Tāwera took as deep a breath as he could with the needles above him. Then the doctor pushed a button, and fifteen syringes injected the serum into his body.
For an instant, Tāwera felt nothing. Then blinding pain washed through him. Though he wanted to scream, he gritted his teeth and growled through it.
He didn’t know how long it lasted, but when the doctor moved the machine aside, Tāwera’s jaw ached from holding in screams. He stood up, ignoring the spikes of pain from the injection points, and strode to the door. “Remember, doctor, not a word.”
Once he was out on the street, Tāwera smiled with grim satisfaction. He kept walking until he found a street crowded with people. Bows radiated out through the crowd as the people noticed him. Across the street, he spotted Ruiha. She was a natural-born shifter, but her form was a common lizard. If she wanted to rise easily through the ranks of the Whanau, she would need the alliance with his family—an alliance that Tāwera controlled.
Once he was certain the entire street, including Ruiha, had noticed him, Tāwera reached for his new power. Tingling spread through his body, then he launched into the sky as a falcon. Shocked whispers erupted from below him. Word had already spread that he wasn’t a shifter. He circled a few times, to be certain everyone knew what he was, then soared off towards the barracks to find the Whanau commander.
In Part 3:
Tāwera and Ruiha have a disagreement.
Tāwera challenges the commander of the Whanau to a duel.
Aneatangan Dictionary (Pafi'upu o Aneatanga)
Ālau Teimaluga | Your Highness |
Aneatanga | destruction, chaos |
Fa’karu | pathetic |
Hau’ai | cowardly |
Ngalea | fool |
Pafi’upu o Aneatanga | dictionary of Aneatangan |
Pirinise | prince |
Ruiha | battle |
Taisaga telu | age ten |
Taisaga telu me tulu | age thirteen. Literally, “age ten and three” |
Taisaga whitu | age seven |
Tale’i o Aneatanga | son of destruction. Can also be translated “son of chaos” |
Tariao | the morning star |
Tāwera | the evening star |
Whanau | army, military. Also used to refer to individual members of the military |
Whiro | the king of Aneatanga and general of the Whanau. Though Whiro is his title, translating to “king” in English, it often becomes the king’s name when he takes the throne, replacing the name he’d had before. The current Whiro and his oldest son, Tāwera, are infamous throughout the universe, even more so than the historical Whiro found in some human mythologies |
Comments