The
Kingdom of Oceana
is
the first book in a new Young Adult fantasy adventure series by
Mitchell Charles.
Five
centuries ago, on the island now called Hawaii, there was a kingdom
filled with adventure, beauty, and magic. When 16-year-old Prince
Ailani and his brother Nahoa trespass on a forbidden burial ground
and uncover an ancient tiki mask, they unleash a thousand-year-old
curse that threatens to destroy their tropical paradise.
As
warring factions collide for control of Oceana, it sparks an age-old
conflict between rival sorcerers that threatens to erupt--just like
Mauna Kea, the towering volcano. With the help of his ancestral
spirit animals, his shape shifting sidekick, and a beautiful
princess, Prince Ailani must overcome his own insecurities, a
lifetime of sibling rivalry, and a plague of cursed sea creatures
brought forth by the tiki's spell. Can peace be restored to the
kingdom? Can Prince Ailani claim his rightful place as the future
king of Oceana? Two brothers, but only one can rule.
“While
the book is fiction, it is heavily influenced by the rich and
beautiful Hawaiian myths, legends, locales, and culture. Many
locations in the story are inspired by real places in Hawaii,” says
Mitchell.
The
Kingdom of Oceana
takes readers on a fun and exciting adventure, with big wave surfing,
fire walking, and shark taming, while also being educational and
bringing to light many environmental and social issues, like ocean
conservation.
Read an Excerpt:
********************
We
climbed the backside of the canyon, still winding through the singing
forest. A sudden gust blew through the treetops, causing the tall
hollow stalks to cry a warning and my heart to beat faster. What
danger was Nahoa getting me into this time?
By
midday we reached the tree line, and the terrain became near
vertical, with slabs of volcanic rock stacked in a series of small
ledges and caves.
I
turned around, looking out over the green bamboo treetops. To my
right, the towering snow-capped summit of Mauna Kea dominated the
sky. It was the tallest and most sacred spot on the Great Island, and
on rare occasions smoke and ash billowed from its peak, rising above
the icy white snowdrifts. Fortunately, there had not been a major
eruption or lava flow in many generations.
“I’ll
race you to the top,” Nahoa challenged. “I’ll even give you a
head start.”
We
had always enjoyed a spirited rivalry, feeding off each other’s
competitive nature. I surveyed the cliff, picking my route.
“You’re
on,” I said as I hoisted myself up and grabbed onto a small lava
finger hold. Just above me was a long fissure in the rock, sloping
upward to my right and then back to the left. While this path would
take me on a longer course, it was less demanding, and my best chance
to beat Nahoa to the crest.
He
saw my plan. “Good, little brother. That path is safer.”
I
carefully moved forward, while Nahoa soon got stuck above me on the
sheer vertical wall of lava, his legs dangling and his feet probing
the cliffside.
“Fingers
getting tired?” I asked him as I moved closer to the top. I was
going to beat him, for once.
“I
won’t be here long,” he said.
As
I followed the crevice back to the left, Nahoa whipped his body to
the right and leapt off the cliff, his foot landing on my shoulder.
He pushed off my neck and hoisted himself onto the ledge above me,
just below the crest.
“Thanks,
omo,” he said with a wicked laugh.
As
I pulled myself onto the ridgetop I saw Nahoa ahead, following a
fast-moving river that disappeared in the distance.
“Move
it!” he yelled above the sound of the rushing water.
I
hurried to catch up and we crossed the river along a jagged path of
partially submerged boulders smoothed over by the rapids.
Before
us, the river gained strength where it merged with a smaller
tributary and formed a swirling vortex that plummeted off the cliff
as Waimoku Falls.
“That’s
it,” said Nahoa, pointing at a small hill piled with rubble just in
front of where the two rivers joined.
There
we found the remains of a crescent-shaped fortress made from stacked
lava rocks. The curved wall was crumbling, with crusty orange lichen
growing in the crevices and bright green geckos sunning themselves on
top. The ground was littered with shark teeth, razor sharp and
bleached by the scorching tropical sun.
I
was disappointed. I’d hoped to find a great temple with cryptic
markings or intricate carvings. What lay before us was nothing more
than a pile of weather-beaten rocks.
“Well,
this is a waste of time,” said Nahoa. He picked up a stone and
hurled it at the remains of the fortress. From beneath the broken
wall, a gathering of centipedes scrambled to escape the sunlight.
An
icy wind went through me. It wasn’t like a tropical breeze that
cools your sweaty cheek. No, it pierced my flesh like I was no more
solid than a palm frond. Disturbing the centipedes was a bad
omen—they were minions of the shadows.
“Did
you feel that?” I asked.
Nahoa
stood frozen, the hair on his arms standing on end.
He
swallowed. “Feel what?”
“I
don’t think we should be here,” I said, motioning for us to
leave. For once, I hoped he’d agree with me.
“Do
you want me to hold your hand, little brother? We’ll just have a
look around, that’s all.”
Nahoa
walked over to where he’d thrown the rock and knelt to examine the
rubble. He picked through and uncovered a wooden tiki head. The
carving was badly weathered, its left ear missing. Its mouth snarled,
and its eyes glared with menace.
I
looked at my brother’s face. He was in a trance, his head tilted
down and his eyes looking up. They were cold and lifeless.
“Nahoa,”
I screamed. “Stop playing around. That’s not funny!”
But
he just stood there. I yelled again, “Nahoa! We shouldn’t be
here. Let’s go!”
He
blinked, but otherwise remained perfectly still.
As
I stepped toward him, Nahoa pulled his knife and backed me toward the
rushing river.
“It’s
you that doesn’t belong here, little brother,” he said in a
hushed tone.
Then
he charged at me like a wild boar, knocking me into the water. I
stood up, knee- deep in the fast-moving river, and dug my feet into
the rocky bottom, bracing myself so the current didn’t pull me
downstream. Nahoa leapt again and landed on top of me, sending us
both tumbling into the whitewater.
Since
we were old enough to walk, Nahoa and I had been schooled by the
masters in luai—wrestling,
hand-to-hand combat, and the use of our tribe’s most savage battle
weapons. From years as sparring partners, I knew all his offensive
moves and counter attacks as though they were my own. But as we raced
downstream, bouncing off the rocks and plummeting down the rapids, I
felt as though I was fighting a stranger. And I was fighting for my
life.
Up
ahead, jagged rocks rose above the waterline. I flipped onto my back
with my feet below me, struggling against Nahoa’s hands wrapped
around my throat. I kicked free of him, but that only quickened my
pace down the rapids. I slammed into a boulder, my feet bracing my
impact. I was exhausted, but knew I had to get out of the water
before I reached the falls. I managed to clamber partway up a
slippery rock, then gathered the strength to hoist myself completely
from the rushing current. Upstream, I saw Nahoa dangling from a tree
branch, the rapids churning below him.
My
footing slipped and in an instant I was back in the river. The
turbulence engulfed me, pulling me into the foaming whitewater. Then
I was weightless, freefalling.
i Anicent
Hawaiian school of martial arts
*********************
About the Author: Mitchell
Charles’ love of the ocean and its miraculous creatures began at
the age of 12 when his father taught him to SCUBA dive. From his
first adventure 50 feet (15 meters) beneath the Caribbean Sea he was
hooked. He has been involved in the Oceanic
Society, America’s first non-profit organization dedicated to
ocean conservation, established in 1969.
Mitchell’s
inspiration for The
Kingdom of Oceana
was born of exploring the spectacular coastline, lush valleys, and
vibrant coral reefs of the Hawaiian Islands. On these excursions, he
imagined what Hawaii was like hundreds of years ago. Before Captain
Cook arrived from England. Before the golf courses and hotels. Before
the ukulele and the Mai Tai became icons of Hawaiian culture. He
dreamed of a time when the islands were an undiscovered magical
paradise.
These
days, Mitchell divides his time between Southern California and
Hawaii. He has two teenage children and a dog named Magic.
Mitchell
is currently working on the second book in the Kingdom of Oceana
series, The
Legend of the Nine Sacred Pearls.
For more information, visit http://kingdomofoceana.com/
Praise
"This
book is a real page-turner, full of action and adventure, and I would
highly recommend it to anyone. I hope that there will be more books
like this from Mitchell Charles in the future."
– 5 Stars, Anne-Marie Reynolds for Readers’
Favorite
“This
is a rollicking good read -- a fascinating journey into a
mythological world filled with legendary characters and magnificent
twists and turns.”
– 5 Stars, DG
on Amazon
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