The Matriarchical Women of Tenua Island
A century ago, women colonized an island found only through an invisible portal in the pacific ocean. Entire generations had been born without seeing a single male. A human could only enter one-way which seemed impossible to discover in the real world. Or so they had thought.
Three young men staying at a destination overseas from their home are lent a large boat. They rescue a stranded native folk from the waters. In return, they inform them of an ancient legend. It is said if they travel out to the sea and correctly enact a certain ritual, it is rumored to summon sirens out of the deep blue to provide healing. When the men successfully perform the ritual, they are drawn by an ethereal coercion and enter through the portal, however they are swept through by an incoming storm.
Here is where they discover Tenua Island, teeming with beauty and life. But it also contains a quadrant divided social structure unforeseen by their initial assessments, one that they must learn and adapt fast if they are to live and thrive with the possibility they may not return to their original lives.
Warning: This story may contain themes of sexual assault.
***
Jackson awoke to the sound of waves crashing against the shore and foaming at the sand, seagulls cawed as they soared through the air. He raised his neck off the hot sand that stuck to his skin and powdered off. Heat beat down on his sweaty forehead. He thought he woke up in paradise.
He pushed himself up off the sand. Giant orange-sandstone rocks protruded nearby on the beach. Waves tossed and turned, splashing onto the surf and fizzling into the sand.
"Shit." He said, his neck collapsed in exasperation once he saw what was left of the boat. All shredded metal and shattered ceramic scattered across the grainy ground. There was no chance of salvaging it. He looked over to see Gabe, laying unconscious on the sand nearby and partially shaded by a nearby palm tree.
"Hey!" He called to him. He walked over, surprised his body was somehow minimally injured. He shook Gabe but no response. His pulse was still present, thank God.
He returned to the wreckage to find a cooler of water, miraculously lodged between two shredded leather seats. He brought it to Gabe and dripped some water onto his face.
Gabe choked and gagged, then spit up some sandy water.
"Gabe! Thank God you're alive."
He coughed and slowly came to.
"Where are we?" Gabe asked as he looked around.
"No idea, I just woke up on the beach. No sign of Oliver either." Jackson responded
"I hope he survived. We have to find him."
"Yes, we do. We have to look around, find out where we are and see if we can get help."
Jackson helped Gabe get to his feet and they trudged through the sand. They found a trail of indents leading towards the nearby foliage.
"See? Footprints! Thank God that's a good sign right?"
"I'd imagine that he went to look around. God I'm starving. Let's see if we can find any sources of food."
Both boys walked onto the nearby foliage. Tropical grass and alocasia leaves surrounded the beach landscape. They pushed through the vegetation and eventually came across a row of Mango trees, all complete with dangling ripened reddish yellow and green fruits.
"Oh thank God." Gabe said exhaustedly.
Both of them picked the fruit, eating them skin and all. They relished in the rich flavor as the topical taste enriched their tongues.
"Man, these are so delicious." Jackson said.
"I know, the best mango I've ever had." Gabe responded, his mouth dripping with flavor.
Nearby, the rustling of bushes sounded and voices could be heard traveling closer.
"Oliver?" Jackson called.
The rustling paused for a moment, then intensified, dead branches snapped and the leaves were violently thrown side-to-side.
Both boys stood up in a frightened state.
The foliage cleared and out stepped three people dressed in tribal hunting gear. Clad in wolf and leopard loincloths along with a hide leather top covering, their strong figures stood tall. War paint streaked across their eyes. They each carried a satchel containing different capture items, a net, bolas, dull spears, and a carved hunting knife. Three women, obviously athletic with naturally muscular figures, shot them a grim look.
Two of them had braided their hair, the taller one just kept it in a long ponytail. An auburn haired woman, a bit stockier than the others stepped forward.
"Look what we have here!" She said, as if they had caught valuable prey.
"Ah, intruders on our territory. Where's your mark of the tribeswomen?" The darker toned woman with black hair asked adamantly.
The taller warrior one with the chestnut brown ponytail drew her net.
"Wait, please, don't hurt us. We're sorry, we don't mean any harm..." Gabe said, hands outstretched in a peaceful gesture.
"Don't mean any harm, huh." The auburn haired woman repeated, the other two laughed.
"We're stranded on this place, can you please just tell us where we are and we'll be out of your hair." Jackson pleaded.
The women laughed, obviously not listening to their pleas.
"Get them," the ponytailed woman ordered.
With a primal war cry, the women drew items from their satchels and immediately darted after them.
"Shit. Run!" Jackson yelled.
Both boys nearly tripped as they struggled to gain balance and ran through the grass. They pushed plants aside as the women whooped and hollered after them.
Almost immediately, strong arms wrapped around Jackson's waist. He turned, ensuring they couldn't clasp their hands together and turned aside, allowing him enough space to dash away.
Gabe ran into a clearing and one of the women stopped. She drew a pair of bolas, spun them in a circle, then tossed them expertly at his ankles. They wrapped around his feet, causing him to trip. He grunted as he impacted the ground. He attempted to untangle the bolas but a net covered his body. Two of the braided women were upon him immediately as he struggled but with their strength and his immobilization, he didn't stand a chance. They bonded his wrists behind his back and brought out a large wooden bar to tie him to.
Jackson turned the corner and sprinted away when a hand stopped him, grabbing him below the throat. His feet gave out underneath him, then his back slammed against the ground knocking the wind out of him. He could not recover his breath before the ponytailed woman binded his hands and slung him over her shoulder seemingly with ease. Her burly shoulder dug into his stomach as he bounced with each step.
"Caught these scavengers snooping around our lands." The ponytailed woman said, a more rugged voice than the others
"We don't take too kindly to foreigners treading onto our land whether by mistake or intent."
Jackson coughed and choked, slowly regaining his breath back.
"Now listen, ladies, we're just lost," He said, "We just-"