Beyond the Sea - Chapter Four (Patron Reward) (Patreon)

[This is a pledge reward for a patron~ Thank you so much for the support!]

There were so many trees and so many hills. It was more land than Moana had ever seen, filled with green life that flourished unlike any of the islands she had visited on her travels. If another beach existed opposite of where she was, it could not be seen from where she stood atop a hill amidst the woods. The land she had washed ashore on seemed as vast as the sea, vast enough to make even her enormous self feel small and slow.

“... and I can’t find a single thing to eat.” Moana’s shoulders slumped. A hand massaged her belly as it whined again. She huffed, “There has to be something my size. Not everything can be so tiny… There has to be something…”

Foraging had produced little results from the woods above and around her cove. Moana had left her makeshift shelter with her usual adventurer’s instinct, confident that she could gather enough food to make a small breakfast. She moved about on all-fours, crawling with her head level with the canopy of the trees so that she could better sift through the branches. Doing so also allowed her to keep some cover -- she had no desire to spook any other natives with her size, nor attract any unwanted attention.

Unfortunately, her search was coming up empty, at least for anything that would be satisfying. Hunting animals proved ineffective, as anything she found was small and skittish compared to her wide, clumsy movements. She had hoped to find some berries suitable for her size, but she instead found fruits. Pears fell from a tree she rattled with one hand, all far too small for her to find appetizing. She had some fill a small pit in her palm, which she then brought close to inspect. Her nose sniffed and poked at the pears, unable to detect much of anything, and she found the taste to be about the same, having tossed the meager collection into her mouth. Her teeth immediately made an indistinct mush of it all, and any flavor she did taste was bitter and unfulfilling.

Moana swallowed hard on the pears with a pained frown. “Please don’t tell me these are supposed to be coconuts,” she mumbled as she rose to her knees. The net of black of hair surpassed the tops of trees as her back uncurled, allowing her a chance to survey the wide, foreign land. The scope was breathtaking, even the second and third time she stared out to the horizon. It was as though the sea ended at the beach behind her -- she glanced down, nervously remembering how the ocean truly had left her.

Behind her lay a path of branches that had snapped against her body and impressions of her weight left in the soft soil. It would be Moana’s trail back to her cove, but it also lead directly to where she was in the hills. Others had followed the way she had carved through the woods, navy scouts sent ahead to locate the monster’s position. They moved discreetly past the trunks of trees, hiding behind them as Moana went about her search for food. They studied her, watching as she grew frustrated with a tree whose pears refused to fall, until her anger saw the tree be uprooted from the ground. Moana gasped, not intending such a destructive action -- thinking she was alone, she quickly dug the tree back into the mud, shoveling a heap of dirt around its base.

Moana looked then behind her -- the navy scouts whipped back behind their cover, but the giant was not searching for them. She stood up to her full height, breaking past branches that stuck to her hair and clothes. A brief shimmy removed most of the debris, but her annoyance turned towards the rest of the woods and how they slowed her movement. Though her mighty legs easily smashed through the canopies, their presence still slowed her. It was a detail the navy scouts recorded; precious information for an inevitable faceoff. When Captain Durok was to arrive, they would have ideal positions mapped out for an ambush.

Familiar faces of townspeople whizzed by as Sophie and Clara rode their steed through the streets. Heads turned in their direction, broken away from what they had been watching; the rallying of men and women in navy uniforms, unloading equipment from their ships and taking them to the border of town. Traffic became more congested at the dock, forcing the hurried horse to slow down as Clara directed it through a crowd.

“Outta the way! We’re coming through!” Clara yipped at those in her path. Many were surprised to have seen Clara return to town not only with such spirit, but with her niece in tow. Sophie was oblivious to the attention that surrounded her existence, unaware that she had been the talk of the town since her disappearance. She remained deaf to the murmurs happening around her, her attention placed ahead on the barque that had docked earlier that morning.

Captain Durok dwelled within his ship, pouring over several maps of the region in his office. He was joined by three executive officers, muscular seamen that helped plot the tactics of their upcoming battle. Word had returned to Durok of Moana’s hideout far up the coast, her notable tracks having been simple to follow. If their assault was agile enough, they could corner the beast while it was weak and secure a quick victory. Scrambling the troops at that moment, thus, was a necessary procedure.

“I do not want this creature slipping from my reach,” Durok asserted. “Every unit must be in proper position. Firearms will distract and slow it while the cannons can be loaded and take aim.”

An officer scratched at his beard. He replied, “With this much firepower, capturing the beast will prove to be… difficult. Even with its size, it will certainly suffer mortal wounds--”

“We do not need this demon alive,” Durok scoffed, a shake of anger loosely heard in his tone. “Its head will be enough. Make sure a wagon is arranged, large enough to carry it to Versailles.”

The officers glanced at one another, but they would not argue against their superior. “Yes, Captain,” they replied together, affirming their obedience. Neither they nor anyone in Durok’s crew had ever faced a monster before, but they had sworn to follow their captain’s commands in order to keep the peace of France. If a hunt for a wild giant from the sea was their mission, they would put their efforts towards bringing Durok that glory.

An unexpected knock came from the office entrance, drawing the attention of all but Durok. The door opened a crack, allowing enough space for a junior officer to enter. “C-Captain, sorry to d-disturb you,” he puttered, “but there are… visitors here. Th-They would like to see you promptly, err--”

“Captain Durok will not be distracted,” an executive office sternly warned. “Assemble as instructed, soldier. Look sharp! We are preparing for a battle!”

“Yes, sir, a-absolutely, but… about the beast, th-the visitors here--” The junior officer was then pushed from behind, tripping to his knees as two women entered past him. Clara and Sophie took to the middle of the office, the former beaming her glare directly onto Durok who had yet to raise his head from his paperwork.

“You dogs can certainly spare a minute, can’t you?” Clara growled, her hands on her hips. Despite her bold position, it was Sophie’s presence that had the most attention. “Maybe now you’ll reconsider your strategy, Captain. My niece wasn’t dead, just like I told you! She came back from the giant’s clutches, and she knows just what it is!”

“Who it is, actually,” Sophie spoke up with a gentle raise of her hand. Her suggestion fascinated the men -- Durok included. He slowly peeled his eyes off the maps and onto the young woman, surprise budding on his face. “Her name is Moana. She’s… a person! She isn’t a monster like we all thought. She comes from somewhere far away, a-and she crashed here because of the storm.” She put her hands together and stepped towards the desk. “Please, Captain Durok, y-you’re making a mistake! She’s no threat, i-it was all a misunderstanding!”

Durok stared at Sophie with a face made of stone, his only motion being to gently set down his quill. He listened to her explanation, glanced at his maps, and scratched at his gray beard. The silence in the chamber was tense, disturbed only by the idle rocking of the ship. Sophie bit her lip, on the edge of silence with what she had stated about Moana. Others in the office looked to one another, hesitant to even crack a confused grin.

“It’s true,” Sophie then said, looking to the officers neighboring Durok. She stared back at the captain, “It is! I wouldn’t lie about-- about something that kidnapped me!”

“No, no lass-- I don’t disbelieve you,” Durok replied, shaking his head and raising a quieting hand. “It’s a farfetched story, of course. But coming from you, the woman stolen away by that-- you called her, a moana? That moana, well… You must be right. I must have misunderstood.”

Sophie glared, but it was instinctive -- once Durok’s response had settled in her head, her expression immediately softened, mired with a bewildered raise of her brow. “I-- You… believe me?” Durok nodded, and Sophie scoffed, “Even my aunt didn’t believe me right away…”

Clara shushed Sophie, but her sights were quick to aim back at Durok. She scowled at him, “You hardly had the time to listen to me earlier. You were so busy getting your toys together. But now you have a chance to listen?”

“Hm. What can I say, lightkeeper?” Durok rose out of his seat, and out of respect did his officers make space for him. “Circumstances changed. I see your girl here is rightly safe and sound. Nothing makes me happier than for citizens to be safe.” Bearing a smile hidden under his moustache, he approached Sophie and placed his hands on her shoulders. Sophie buckled slightly under the weight admirably applied to her, making her even shorter than the captain. “It must have been a harrowing experience, whatever the story, and that’s a story I might like to hear.”

Sophie perked up slightly. “I-It’s quite amazing, all the stuff I learned,” Sophie chuckled, nervously coiling a finger through her hair. “She’s not from France at all, she simply doesn’t know a thing about our world! She--”

“Now, let’s not forgo any details,” Durok laughed, “I want to write a report on this personally. Before you get started, let’s settle in somewhere and I can catalogue every detail to send to the queen.” Leaving one grasp on her shoulder, Durok pulled Sophie towards the door, her steps willingly gliding alongside him, until Clara stepped in front of them.

“And what of all those soldiers you have out there, running around with those cannons?” Clara demanded to know.

Durok nodded to one of his officers, receiving a swift salute as confirmation. “Indeed, lightkeeper, they need to be given orders to cease preparations. We’ll see to it the cannons get returned. In the meantime, you should join us! You have an interesting perspective as well in all this.”

Clara crossed her arms. “You had your chance with me,” she scoffed. She looked over Sophie sternly, deciding what to allow with her niece before going to the exit. “Sophie, tell this dog what you will, see if he understands you. The children are still at the lighthouse and I don’t trust those inspectors being around them for too long.”

Sophie raised a hand to keep Clara from exiting, but Durok’s charisma compelled her. “Well, someone should be tending to the lighthouse,” he argued, allowing Clara to be off. He gestured to his cluttered work desk, “There’s too much out and about here. I have a study below deck, we can talk peacefully there.”

Sophie followed wherever the captain guided her, her only hesitation being when Clara disembarked the ship. Durok asserted that they head beneath deck, and so Sophie stepped inside and down the stairs. Along the way, Durok spoke of his journeys across the sea, the hardships he faced in the training it took to achieve his rank. Always a good listener, Sophie was infatuated with anything he said, so thrilled to hear tales of adventure that she hardly noticed the darkness of the ship’s interior or the chill that gathered in such a low area.

“I’ve been with this ship for a long time,” Durok chortled, “I know every detail of her.” He stood in front of a doorway, waving Sophie to step inside. “But I’ll light us a candle, of course.”

Sophie smiled as she entered the study, her hands placed in front of her as she cautiously avoided stepping into anything. The darkness inflicted a cramped feeling, as though the walls and ceiling were closing in around her, but she found the space to be particularly vacant. She felt for a chair or a desk, but she swiped at nothing. Just as concern began to grow--

Clank! Sophie tripped forward upon the slamming of an iron door behind her, quickly flipping around in her surprise. “C-Captain?!” she called out, thinking he was afar -- but he was there in front of her, behind the steel bars of a prison cell, his expression dull and unamused. It had not been the study at all she was led to, but the brig, a dreary reality that sunk Sophie’s heart.

“I suppose craziness runs in the blood of lightkeepers,” Durok lowly chuckled. “Always with the wild stories. But I have my own story to prove, and the queen will be my audience.”

“Captain! L-Let me out!” Sophie barked, rattling the iron bars to no avail. She quickly whipped around, dreaming that another exit was possible, but there was only Durok and his keys. She bit her lip, then stretched a claw-like hand through the bars to swipe at Durok, only for her reach to fall short. “Th-This is crazy! You can’t lock me up in here, I-I didn’t even do anything!”

“We can’t have you spreading even more confusion during these strange times,” Durok explained. He huffed, “The townsfolk saw for themselves what this beast can do. I cannot have them doubting their own eyes. Perhaps,” he turned away, back towards the stairs, “this time in the brig will help you clear up the details of what happened between you and your ‘moana.’”

“I know what happened! I know clearly!” Sophie spat, kicking the locked door for emphasis. “I…! I’m not gonna just sit here!”

Durok shrugged, a foot on the first step of the stairs. “What will you do then?”

“I’ll scream! I’ll just keep screaming!”

“Do so,” Durok shook his head, “no one will hear you here.”

He flinched -- as promised, Sophie screamed. It was short at first, like a sudden stab, but then she continued, and continued. Durok growled but otherwise ignored her, abandoning the prisoner with the darkness. Left behind him, the concern that was Sophie faded from his mind as he transitioned his focus to the battle ahead. The sunlight was warm and tense as he returned to the main deck, surveying the arrangement of navy soldiers and cannons that was forming at the edge of town. Soon, he would be leading their march towards the monster, unburdened by any tales a lightkeeper would have spun.

A deer lifted its head, and the pack followed. They all stared into the woods where an unsettling groan crept through the trees and hills. A rumble spooked the animals into hopping away all at once, skittering from what they imagined to be a ferocious bear making its claim. But it was no bear at all, a different beast entirely -- the stomach of a giant woman, whining incessantly in the humble clearing she had sat in. A hand rolled over her dissatisfied gut, uncaring of the pear juice stains that dotted her palm.

“This isn’t working out,” Moana complained. That same hand fell from her belly and slammed into the ground in frustration, enough strength to shake leaves off an adjacent tree. “Nothing’s big enough, there isn’t enough of anything to make a meal… I can’t even make a usable fishing rod.” Her eyes fell upon the failed project beside her, the thin tree she had snapped from its trunk. Unfortunately, she found nothing to use as a wire, and certainly nothing to make a net; the makeshift rod served merely as a backscratcher before being dropped. She rolled her eyes as she sat up, remembering that the fish, too, were guaranteed to be just as small as the fruits.

Taking a stand shook the trees even further, causing a slow rain of leaves to flutter down after Moana’s body raked through the canopy. Branches were visibly caught in her hair, but she paid them no mind, still concentrated on finding food. Her belly whined again, this time startling a flock of birds that flew away from their tree.

“Sophie probably won’t be gone for much longer,” Moana muttered to herself, hands planted on her hips. Yet again, her stomach growled. “Hopefully, anyway. I guess I better get back to the cove, clean myself up before guests arrive…”

Following her tracks back would be no hassle, as a trail of broken treetops and craters in the dirt had been left behind her as she ventured into the woods. What surprised her was how far she had gone from her shelter. The beach was no longer in sight, only the sea was when peering over the pines. With such long legs, Moana realized, distances such as this could be crossed without even realizing. She shuddered into her arms as she waded through the thickets, disturbed by how small the world was.

It was while staring out towards the sea in thought that Moana’s foot abruptly stopped in mid-step. Having been lost in her own head, her reaction to suddenly falling forward was slow and graceless. Snap, she heard from her foot, the breaking of a rope-made trap that was situated between two thick trees. Broken by her stride or not, it succeeded in having Moana lose her balance, her huge body careening over herself and down to the ground.

A heavy slam vibrated the woods, dismissing several different flocks of birds all through the area. Moana had tripped onto her hands and knees, bringing down with her all the branches she had tried to catch herself with. Her hair flew forward ahead of her and in front of her face, which she combed back quickly as she twisted around onto her back, panicked by what had just happened.

“What was that?!” Moana asked herself as she flipped sides. She grew instinctively concerned, “I-I didn’t mean to!” she babbled, expecting to see a home or something else kicked down by her step. However, what she found instead were broken ropes tangled around her toes and ankle, the remains of the trap that had been set for her. This was no accident at all, but a planned attack -- Moana blinked, looking to her left and right for the enemies she now knew were about.

Eyecontact. To the right of her head, just as it turned, a uniformed man was nestled in the branches, a rifle tightly gripped in both hands as he stared back into her massive eyes. Silence itched at both their backs, neither deciding to move in such a tense situation, until suddenly, a shot was fired.

“Ahhgh!” Moana grunted, flinging her head back as a bullet hit her. A hand was thrown to her face where the injury was felt, and with just one massage, the pain was almost entirely gone. With disgust, she looked into her hand, unable to see the speck-sized pellet that she felt rolling in her palm. She stuttered, wanting an explanation from the man that shot her cheek, but before she could--

“Fire!!” The order was given, and the first wave of attacks ripped forth. Moana looked to the direction of the shout, but it was from all other directions that she was being poked at. Her neck, her ear, her collar, her sides; every part of her was an unmissable target for the navy soldiers to exploit. Bangs and pops disoriented Moana further as she tried to make sense of the moment, shielding herself with both arms while trapped in her crouched stance.

“St-- Stop it! I said-- hey, hey!” Moana stammered, always cut off by another projectile striking her somewhere. No place was safe from attack, and she could hardly make out where her assailants were positioned. One truth was clear, and that it was that the trees were unsafe,  so Moana crawled forward in a hurry. Even in her effort to flee, bullets continued to hit her in the uplifted rear, the soldiers chasing after her if not reloading their muskets.

Instinctively, Moana had tried following the path she had carved back to her cove, hoping to take shelter in the only familiar place she knew of. Beyond a turn, however, was a blockade of uniforms posted along a steep hill. Pellets grazed her on her approach, but she endured, expecting to leap over the soldiers if not trample through their ranks. Her crawl came to a stop, however, when she saw a black barrel aimed at her from the hill’s peak. Bigger than the thin weapons that peppered her skin, this was a cannon, its size alone spelling worry for Moana.

With their target dead-ahead, a commanding officer waved forward, giving the signal to attack. Moana flinched, expecting a harsh bang from such a big device -- she wouldn’t risk jumping over that. Just as a soldier ripped hard on the pull-rope trigger, Moana dove aside, rolling through a thicket of trees and off the path. Boom! A dull ball rocketed to where Moana had been, speeding off into a loud crash somewhere in the forest. Soldiers barked and shouted as they reorganized their position, giving chase still to the evasive giant.

Moana rolled over nature and foliage unflinchingly, leaving a jagged trail of snapped tree trunks and uncovered earth. Her dodge had taken her to a shallow river, her body collapsing into the ditch and causing a wide splash. The touch of water made her jump to her knees quickly, shaking loose just some of the stones and branches that she had racked up in her movements. Only a single glance could be afforded back the way she came before she saw the pursuing soldiers -- and another battalion stationed up the river, equipped with their own cannon.

“Not that way,” Moana spat, pivoting about and heading downstream instead. The width and openness of the river allowed her crawl to evolve into a full-fledged jog, narrowed only by the cliffs that rose on either side of her. Another pop from a cannon could be heard from behind her, and soon after did a projectile whistle past her -- another miss, but the uniforms persisted, trudging through the river after her. Inspired by the terrain around her, Moana clawed at the stone walls, breaking them apart into a mudslide that would hinder her pursuers.

A smile sparked between Moana’s cheeks as the distance between her and the navy grew. She was a hunter, never the hunted -- “They need better traps than that,” she joked aloud, returning her attention forward. The river was bound to run into the ocean, where ambushes would be far less common; she thought it funny that the navy would allow her to take this route, a mistake of theirs that she would happily exploit.

Her geyser-causing footfalls pounded onward, crashing into the thin standing of water -- and then crashing through the earth entirely. Where she had thought the river dried up was instead unstable ground, instantly giving way to the massive weight confidently thrown atop it. Moana’s foot tore into a pit that erupted with water hidden beneath, causing her body to jolt forward unexpectedly. With her other foot already launched into the air, the trip ahead completely caught Moana off-guard, her expression frozen stiff until just before the impact with the ground. She gasped--

Thooom! The earth rumbled; “Aghh!” Moana groaned, falling swift and hard into rows of wooden stakes. Their sharpened points dug into her flesh and ripped holes through her attire, arranged precisely to weigh her down and make recovery difficult. The cleverness was worth the effort, for Moana’s first attempts at rising were countered by stinging pains that flared with any movement. Out of frustration, Moana growled and crunched a bundle of stakes in her fist, fueling herself with anger in order to endure.

But as she tried to rise again, yelling and rustling was heard from up above. Atop the cliff to her side was a collection of soldiers, armed not with rifles, but with large bundles of rope. They were fishing nets repurposed for pinning a sea monster, weaved together in long stretches and lined with metal weights. A team effort was required to toss the nets over the cliff’s edge and down onto Moana where they blanketed small sections of her immense body. Her knees and arms were targeted first, but the results were messy and scattered, with nets falling all along Moana to varying degrees of success. The focus was quantity before quality, and it appeared to be winning out, with Moana shuddering underneath the dropped nets.

More troops arrived, hurriedly marching onto Moana’s fallen position from where the forest met the shore. Officers steadily issued orders and pointed underlings into a formation that surrounded Moana. Despite their rifles visibly being armed and aimed, Moana continued her struggle to stand -- and was punished for it. A flank of soldiers opened fire by command, pelting Moana’s side with bullets. The attack roused a wince out of Moana, and then her spite. As a counterattack, Moana twisted a net into her fist, then flung it as a projectile at those that shot her. The soldiers dodged away to a further distance, the net catching a few under its weight, but the rest of the navy retaliated as a consequence, storming Moana from all over with pellets until she was huddled under her arms in defense.

“Enough already!” Moana shouted, reaching a hand out blindly to smack at the pest-like pellets. Her complaint boomed alongside the constant popping of rifles and the snapping of stakes under her writhing form, a cacophony worthy of just as much outcry. Every motion conducted an orchestra of gunfire to strike at her, and the enemy was growing larger with every volley. From the woods and from upstream were the soldiers Moana had avoided, combining their ranks into the circle around her.

The rifles had continued to prove ineffective, and so despite their numbers, the navy had yet to pressure Moana into submission. She glared at one group and then another, unable to find the humanity in their eyes, no sympathy to share. During a lull in attacks, while most soldiers were reloading their weapons with bullets and powder, Moana again began to rise, getting as far as her knees. The shadow she summoned swept over a flank of uniforms, chilling them into cowardice. Pesky shots were still taken, but Moana bluntly ignored them for the pokes that they were, refusing to be kept down any longer by such tiny tactics.

From the crowd in front of her came a strike of thunder. Moana blinked, and in that instant where her eyes were closed, a blazing pain punched her in the ribs with enough force to twist her torso to that side. She nearly collapsed backwards, her weight caught by an arm that jabbed into the river for support. An expression of agony on her face replaced any wail she may have made otherwise, her reaction restrained to a harsh gasp and sputtering coughs. A hand covered the injury, but it could not hide the trickle of blood nor dislodge the cannonball embedded in her.

A sigh of silence allowed the captain to reel all attention onto himself. A path had been made in the ranks to allow Captain Durok an approach towards the monster he had hunted, the trophy he had promised to claim. Following him were two trusted subordinates, trudging through the muddy shallows with a cannon in tow, warm smoke still rising from its barrel. Moana glared at the weapon and the man charging it, but he gestured at her to withhold any comeback. The warning was not overlooked; each battalion had pushed forward their own cannon, sometimes two or more, including those advantaged upon the cliffside. Everywhere Moana frantically looked to was another cannon prepped to pop, complemented by orders of muskets.

Moana remained still, stuck on her knees and hunched forward like a cornered animal. Appropriately, Durok was pleased with her paralysis, taking the lead of his men with confident strides through the shallows. He stroked his beard with a gloved hand and a content grin, nodding in approval. “You have all done well, sailors,” he projected to the crowd. “My expectations have been exceeded. Proud work from everyone.”

Moana shifted, her glare narrowed-in on the cocky captain. Even this little motion was enough for every musket to be steadied, eagerly awaiting Durok’s signal. Moana sank under the pressure, but her anger was not dampened, focused tightly on the man in front of her.

Durok chuckled at what he saw, his approach continuing once Moana settled. “Hold your fire, soldiers,” he ordered. “I’d rather keep this specimen alive and well for when I present it to the queen. A disembodied head of this scale might mortify Her Majesty.”

Moana raised her head in disgust. “Alive? I don’t think so,” she scoffed, amused but ever sour. “That would imply I just walk with you wherever you take me. Not happening, little guy.”

Once again did Moana rouse the soldiers into taking aim, but Durok kept the calm, spreading his arms out evenly in a quieting gesture. He smiled at Moana’s glare, unphased by her huge eyes. “I admit, you are surprisingly cultured,” he remarked. “Then, negotiations should be even simpler, no?”

Moana hissed, “I’m not negotiating for anything less than you letting me go.” The soldiers took aim-- but Moana snapped, “Put those down, will you?!” Her impressive demand made the circle around her flinch in fear, but Durok remained solid in his position.

“You can’t intimidate a cannon,” Durok threatened. Behind him, an officer stroked the barrel of the cannon, emphasizing its readiness. Durok glanced back at it with a grin, “As I said, I’d rather not resort to bloodshed. If you are as intelligent as that mousy lightkeeper said, then you should know that resistance is futile.”

Mousy lightkeeper? Moana deduced that Durok spoke of Sophie. She had promised to convince the town that she was no monster, but with the navy captain before her, it seemed that no one had been swayed. Did Sophie fail to change their hearts? Or, was something more sinister afoot? Durok’s arrogance hinted at that possibility, and Moana’s gut agreed after having been this man’s prey.

“... Fine! Let’s negotiate!” Moana spat, a shake of her head freeing her hair from one of the nets. “First things first: what do you even want with me? I didn’t mean to cause any harm last night! G-Give me the chance and I’ll be off your island-- or whatever, in an instant! I’ll even fix whatever I broke! I’m serious!”

“No, no. This is not about justice for mere collateral damage. Monsters do not receive justice. Like any other animal, you are a resource to be used, and there are many uses for a creature like yourself. I thought you could serve me well enough as a rite for glory, a prize in exchange for a promotion. But that lightkeeper’s story inspired me to think… bigger. You do not have to be an aimless creature risen from the sea. You can be tamed. You can be a weapon.”

Moana’s eyes widened, sickened by such a suggestion. “I am Moana,” she pushed. “Reigning chieftain of my people, and a proud wayfinder! I will never be a tool for someone else to use -- especially not someone shorter than my ankle.”

Durok’s grin was as unmoving as stone. “That drive of your’s will be put to more glorious purposes,” he said, lowering his head, “after you’ve been trained to be a proper war mount. The seas will fear me as Admiral Durok, the Rider of Giants! I’ll see my enemy’s ships be overturned in the water by my command!”

“I won’t become that! You can’t just throw me into the middle of your war! I am Moana, I will-- cah! Gahh!” Pushing herself into the argument caused the cannonfire wound to flare up, interrupting Moana with a series of hard coughs.

“You will follow me to the queen or be sent to her in pieces!” Durok barked, his energy circuiting through his soldiers. Bombardiers prepared for the call to be given, urging Moana back into stillness. A deep exhale quelled Durok’s flare of anger. “Do not complicate this. Lay on the ground. Surrender yourself to chains and we will make haste to Versailles at once.”

Moana’s glare sharpened as she stared down the captain, his back turned to her as he parted through his troops. Her body ached to dash forward and leap over this obstacle, but she knew she would not be able to dodge the arsenal that surrounded her. The soldiers were antsy, they would be quick to pull the trigger -- they were scared, Moana admitted, and following orders like they were trained to do. Even if she did throw herself into a rampage, what good would be brought if these people were injured? Moana wished for no one to be hurt, but for that to happen, she would have to forfeit herself peacefully to these grueling demands.

As instructed, Moana submitted herself to the creek, laying down and allowing her arms to be chained with anchor-like weights. She was then told to stand and follow Durok to the camp they had arranged; for now, she would obey their commands, taken to wherever she was to be taken. The world was confusing and new to her, and so it made little difference where within it she ended up. There was no attachment to where she had washed ashore, except for one -- Sophie, the only soul to offer a listening ear and promise kindness. Moana had been pulled to her that night, drawn to the lighthouse’s beam and thus rescued from the storm. Sophie had been so enthralled with her, but there would not even be a farewell between them, no more than Moana’s longing gaze past the canopy and to where the lighthouse proudly stood.

But hugged into the peninsula’s curve was a new addition to the town. A galleon was docked crudely in the harbor, brandishing distinct black flags that whipped wildly in the winds. Plumes of smoke rose from roofs and vague masses of people collided at the gates. This image was grimly familiar to Moana and her people who had endured their kind before: “Pirates?!”

The word alone brought a shudder across the soldiers immediately around Moana’s feet. Her exclamation earned the threat of cannons, which remained aimed on her even as they wheeled them through the woods. Captain Durok was unflinching to the remark as he mounted his steel-gray steed, and his soldiers followed suit, quietly ignoring the claim, until it was said again. “Pirates! A-At the dock!” Moana specified, looking back and forth between those beneath her and the town far away. “Tell me you all know what pirates are, right? Were you expecting them?! Pirates!”

“Enough out of you!” Durok finally griped, tugging hard on his horse’s reins so he could be turned towards Moana. “You can stay silent unless addressed. Understood? Don’t try any tricks, giant.”

“A trick? This isn’t-- Those are real pirates!” Moana asserted. Every word had some soldiers creep back in worry, while just as many edged closer to their weapons. Moana’s eyes darted from one head to the next, flustered with worry. “Your town is under attack! Your people! I-I can see it from here! Look for yourself!”

A murmur spread across the soldiers, bringing a slow to their packing. A concerned officer close to Durok shared an uneasy expression towards him, but the captain snarled and shook his head. “I will have none of this,” he warned. “Soldiers! Do not delay! Do not listen to this giant’s--”

“Sh-She might be telling the truth, sir!” a lieutenant interrupted, breaking rank from distress. He was perched atop a rocky slope, using its height to peer off into the distance with a scope. “There’s smoke, a-and a ship! With a black flag! S-Sir, I… I think those are pirates, sir!”

Durok grumbled sourly, “All this nonsense…!” Deny it all he could, however, the facts could not be hidden from his soldiers for long. Others confirmed the smoke as they hurried up the slope to witness the scene for themselves, and the black flag could not signal anything but rebel seafarers. Discussion and dissent grew, but Durok was not swayed. “I did not permit this scouting! I did not permit anything but the transport of the beast! Return to your positions now!”

“But, sir…!” A lowly grunt spoke up, but he was glared down by the captain, buckling back into a pile of supplies. In his place, an officer stepped forward -- one of Durok’s most trusted. “There’s no defenses in town, Captain,” he reminded his superior. “We brought every resource here for this hunt. Port de Désir will be sacked!”

“You have been given your orders,” Durok asserted, his chin lifted high. “Do not question me. Port de Désir can be reclaimed -- this monster cannot! We fight for the crown, and the crown demands this monster be taken!”

The conversation was cut there. No one would question Durok this far, not when he boasted their duty to the crown. He was their leader, the decision maker, wielding authority extended to him by royalty. Treason, these soldiers decided, was worse a crime to commit than abandoning civilians in need.

Durok’s words had impaled all at the camp, except for Moana. The results baffled her, she thought it to be untrue. “You intend to just let those people… die?” she quizzed the captain, uncaring of how she stepped out of line. When soldiers readied their cannons and rifles, Moana overlooked them entirely. “Those are your people. They depend on you for protection. You must have family and friends -- you’re going to cast them aside like this?”

“Someone gag her or something,” Durok complained. “I will not endure this nagging across the voyage.”

Moana huffed. “Your soldiers here were brave to come after me, but they’re following a coward. Their respect for you is wasted if this is the judgement you make as a leader, abandoning innocent lives so that you can gain something for yourself. I might not know a lot about your world, but for the people I lead, community is more important than glory. Maybe you don’t understand that, but perhaps the men and women following you do.”

A tense silence divided the atmosphere. Durok, even with his inflated confidence, could tell that the general opinion was shifting. He glossed over his soldiers, noting their wavering focus, the uncertain pacing. He scoffed at what he saw, “What does a monster know of leading a navy?! Do not be tricked by her speech, soldiers.”

“Think for yourselves! And think for the others, too!” Moana stressed, pivoting where she stood to address all those underneath her. “This… isn’t right! If you are fighters, then fight for justice! Is dragging me in chains the justice you want? Or did you vow to protect your people from actual threats?”

“Enough, enough! Load a cannon!” Durok barked, his horse huffing with as much fury. “Silence this beast! I will not be disobeyed!”

A wave of his hand demanded that a cannon be fired. Moana winced, recoiling when she imagined the powerful pop of such a weapon, but it was a flinch for naught. No soldier armed a cannon, nor even aimed a musket. When Durok searched the crowd for an explanation, he saw only the darkness in their eyes, a disregard for his orders. Some had been pulled out of the camp, drawn in the direction of Port de Désir. Others dropped their cargo, sticking to only the guns they would need for a battle. Even the cannons were left unmanned as the bombardiers joined the rest in a rally that was getting momentum. They had all come to an agreement; they would fight back and save Port de Désir, regardless of their captain’s orders.

All rank and structure began to dissolve as soldiers openly left Durok’s domain, dashing into the woods back to town. It had been a long march to get this far in their hunt for Moana, and so it would be a long sprint back. Roused by Moana’s speech, the soldiers charged on without their captain, no matter how he hissed at them to halt. Before long, the camp was deserted, leaving behind only Durok and his trophy.

“No! You will regret this, all of you!” Durok shouted, his face red with rage. “T-Treason! For disobeying a captain, you will all be charged with treason! I’ll have you all hung for this--”

Thunder struck just in front of Durok and his steed, in the shape of a bare, muscular leg. Moana’s stomp terrified the horse the captain rode, causing the animal to rear back and launch its rider onto the dirt before darting away. Durok squirmed where he lay at Moana’s foot, all while she smiled down on him with a smirk of success.

“You need your soldiers, but your soldiers don’t need you.” Moana then snapped free from the chains that had bound her wrists, requiring only a short grunt of effort. The broken links drizzled onto the captain’s fallen form as Moana stepped over him, her knees and hips crackling through dozens of branches at a time. Durok shuddered more under this noise, crawling into the clearing and away from the giant’s exit.

Outside the woods, the rally went onward, roaring with the shouts of uniformed men and women eager to reclaim their beloved town. The distance was worrisome; could they return in time to make a difference? When their spirits began to dampen under this concern, they were bolstered again by an encouraging roll of thunder. Those in the lead turned back to the forest, awing at what followed behind them. Bounding over a battalion with grace and determination was the very giant they had hunted, the same that had rekindled their purpose for serving their country. Moana’s booming steps swiftly surpassed the soldiers as she spearheaded the counterattack, charging far ahead as a symbol to strive after.