Prologue: The Great Drought
300 years ago


It all started with an abnormally hot day; a day where the sun pushed high in a sky without clouds. Residents of Kahikina noticed the abnormal heat, thanks to a lack of shade and rainfall, but they paid no mind. Often there would be a few days each year where the rains would let up and the weather would force them underwater for a day. To have such a day was nothing to be worried about, as the rain would always return, eventually. After all, Kahikina was a land known for rainfall, the true life force that fueled their watery home.

As the years rolled on, the number of dry days increased, first documented by the elder council hidden away in Noelani. Seeking proof of a shrinking world, they sent out their fastest swimmer south, to where the river met the inland sea, to evaluate the status of their home. As the swimmer traveled, he did not notice any real change, except slightly rougher rapids where the river thinned. A sign the water level had dropped slightly.

Concern spread through the council, but the eldest of the elders determined there was no need to inform the Kaha’iko, who dwelled in the rivers and lakes. There was no true threat to a small dip in the water, and eventually the rains would return. And so, they decided to wait until the next season and continue to monitor, believing that soon enough the world would right itself once more.

Many years passed where the elders continued to wait, believing each year that the next would bring the salvation of heavy rains once more. The weather slowly changed; still it would rain most of the year, however sunny days were beginning to multiply and lengthen. Residents began to notice the change in weather, traveling to the spring to question the elders on what was happening. Still, the elder council determined the best action was to wait, as the rains would always return.

After ten years of waiting, the first true dry season began in Kahikina. More days were dry than wet, and the river dropped in height and decreased in width. Near the mouth where the river met the inland sea, the passage became a stream. The Kaha’iko were cut off from the others who dwelled in the sea. In a panic, groups of Kaha’iko fled to Noelani to demand answers for the state of their home, and as they waited a messenger from the reclusive Menehune arrived to speak with the council.

The marshland dwellers too had noticed a change in their native waters of Elehun.

Efforts were made to contact the sea dwellers to the south, but there was no success. The river had dried out at an extended length, so no one could traverse the land to bypass the hazard. Others attempted to dig a canal, like the one that connected Pale'iko with Elehun, but there was no success. Eventually, after years of toil, the Kaha'iko abandoned all hope of contact with those at the sea. Instead, it was determined they needed to adapt to the seemingly permanent change of lower waters and hotter days, and that the sea-dwellers were on their own.

As hundreds of years passed, the days settled into a new climate. Slowly, the river continued to dry out, but the pace was much smaller than before. Kaha'iko and Menehune have adapted to their new, drier home, and have forgotten completely about the races in the sea. Only legends of who they were, where they dwelled, and how they lived have been passed down through generations, and even those stories have become exaggerated and twisted thanks to time.

Now, nearly three hundred years later, a new elder has stepped into leadership at Noelani. With a keen eye on the state of the river, and a concern of the drying waterway growing still, he has called forth a great gathering between the Kaha'iko and Menehune leaders. His goal: to find a way to bring back the nourishment of the rains of days past, or finally construct a bridge to see how fares those who once dwelled in the sea.

It is here, where Kahikina's story begins...