Then their children began to wonder what kind of thing the light could be. They wearied of the narrow space to which they were confined, and wished to separate their parents, so that there could be light. Then they came together to decide whether it would be better to kill their parents or to tear them apart. The fiercest of the children of Rangi and Papa is Tu, the god of war. It was Tu who spoke first, and he said, ‘Let us kill our parents!’

Then Tane, the god and father of forests and of all things that live in them, or that are made from trees, said, ‘No, we will not kill them. It is better to drag them apart, and let the sky be far above us, and the earth lie beneath our feet. In this way the sky will become a stranger to us, but the earth will stay close to us as a mother.’

All the brothers agreed to this except for Tawhiri, the father of winds and storms; and he, being afraid that his kingdom was about to be overthrown, was angry at the thought of the separation of his parents.

It is from this happening that there comes the saying found in the ancient prayers, ‘Darkness, darkness, light, light, the seeking, the searching, in chaos, in chaos’; this tells of the way in which the children of the sky and earth sought for some way of dealing with their parents, so that human beings could increase and live.

When at last they had agreed to this plan,

Rongo, the god and father of the cultivated food of man, stood up to tear apart the earth and sky; he struggled, but he could not part them. Then Tangaroa, the god and father of fish and reptiles, stood up to try his strength; he also struggled; but he could not part them. Then Haumia, the god and father of the food of man which grows without cultivation, stood up and struggled; but he also failed. Next, Tu, the god and father of warriors, stood up and struggled; but in vain.

Then at last Tane, the god and father of forests, slowly stood up, and he struggled with his parents; but he could not part them with his hands. So for a moment he stopped, and he placed his head on his mother the earth, and rested his feet against his father the sky. He strained his back in a mighty effort, and he tore apart his parents; they shrieked and groaned as they cried out, ‘Why are you parting us thus? Why do you commit such a terrible crime as to tear your parents apart?’ But Tane did not stop, he did not listen to them; far, far beneath him he pressed the earth; far, far above him he thrust the sky. It is because of this that there is the saying in the ancient prayers, ‘It was the fierce thrusting of Tane which tore the sky from the earth, so that they were dragged apart, and darkness became known, and so did the light’.

As soon as the sky was torn from the earth there was light in the world, and crowds of human beings were discovered who were the children of Rangi and Papa, and who had been hidden until now between the bodies of their parents.

Then Tawhiri, the god and father of hurricanes and storms, was angry with his brothers, because against his wishes they had torn apart Rangi and Papa, and he was afraid that the world would now be too pleasant and beautiful. Because of this he followed his father Rangi to the sky above; and from there he sends the earth mighty winds, dense clouds, dark thick clouds, fiery red clouds, clouds of thunder storms, and clouds swiftly flying. In the midst of these Tawhiri himself sweeps wildly on, and makes war against the creatures that live on the earth.

But in spite of the evil rage of Tawhiri, the human beings who had been hidden between Rangi and Papa increased in number now, and flourished upon the earth; and it is from these first men that we are all descended.

And through all this time the vast sky has not ceased to mourn the loss of his wife the earth. Often in the long nights he weeps, and drops upon her breast those tears which men call dew. And often the loving sighs of Papa go up towards the sky; and when men see these, they call them mists.

http://teaohou.natlib.govt.nz/journals/teaohou/issue/Mao45TeA/c11.html
Read the link if you want

One evening, after eating a hearty meal, Maui lay beside his fire staring into the flames. He watched the flames flicker and dance and thought to himself, "I wonder where fire comes from."

Tutira worked and sometimes played with the children of the rangatira. Tutira was envious of his friends when he was left to the gardens and regular chores and they were taken to be instructed as future leaders.

Link to read the whole story : http://eng.mataurangamaori.tki.org.nz/Support-materials/Te-Reo-Maori/Maori-Myths-Legends-and-Contemporary-Stories/Kawariki-and-the-shark-man

Then one day Tame-nui-ke-ti-Rangi said to the child, ‘Go, go find your family. Your time with me has ended.’

So he left Tame-nui-ke-ti-Rangi.

He travelled all day and all night, and when the land was too difficult to cross, he turned into a bird and flew. In this way he at last found his mother, his relations, and his brothers, one night when they were all dancing in the Great House of Assembly.

The little child crept into the Great House of Assembly, and there were his four brothers, sitting. He crept behind them and sat down with them, so that when their mother Taranga came to get her children for the dance, she found one more. She said to her sons, ‘One, that’s Maui-taha; two – that’s Maui-roto; three- that’s Maui-pae; four – that’s Maui-waho.’   And then she saw another little one.

‘Another one!’ said Taranga. ‘Where has this fifth one come from?’ she asked.

Then the little child said, ‘I’m your child too. I’m Maui-the-baby.’

Then Taranga counted them all over again, ‘Maui-taha, Maui-roto, Maui-pae, Maui-waho. That’s all. That’s four. There should be only four of you. Who is this fifth one? Who are you?’

But little Maui said again, ‘I’m your child too. I am Maui-the-baby.’

Now Taranga got angry. ‘Come – you are no child of mine. You must belong to someone else. Leave this house at once!’

Then little Maui said, ‘Very well. I will leave if you say so. But I must be your child. I was born by the seashore, and you threw me, wrapped in your hair, into the waves. And Tangaroa looked after me, the seaweed rocked me, and the breezes blew me to shore, and Tame-nui-ke-ti-Rangi took me to his house and hung me up in the roof so I would stay warm. And then I grew and heard of this Great House and came to find you. I know my brothers from the time I was inside you.’ And little Maui recited all the names of his brothers. ‘This is Maui-taha, and this is Maui-roto, and this is Maui-pae, and this is Maui-waho. And I am Maui-the-baby.’

When Taranga heard him talk like this, she believed him, and she opened her arms to him and held him. ‘You are my son, my little son, my last-born child,’ she cried. And she called him Maui-tikitiki-a-Taranga, which means ‘Maui-formed-in-the-topknot-of Taranga’.  And from then on that was his name.

Now Taranga called to Maui and said, ‘Come my little child, come sleep with me, your mother, so that I may kiss you and cuddle you.’ And little Maui ran to his mother and slept with her at night.

When the older brothers saw this they were jealous. ‘Our mother never calls us to sleep with her,’ they said. ‘We are the children she has seen growing up, but never has she called to us to sleep with her so that she may cuddle us. So why is she calling this little stranger, who may not even be her child?’

But the two eldest ones said, ‘Never mind, if our mother calls him to her. Let us be kind to him, and let him be our little brother. It is better to be kind and to share all we have than to fight amongst us. So let us be kind to the little fellow, and let him be our little brother.’

The other brothers heard this, and agreed that it was better to be kind than to fight. ‘Yes, yes, you are right,’ they said. ‘Let our jealousy finish here.’

And so the brothers of little Maui looked upon him as their little brother.

So Maui found his mother and his brothers.

Links:

One day when he was very young, he hid in the bottom of his brothers' boat in order to go out fishing with them. Once out at sea, Maui was discovered by his brothers, but they were not able to take him back to shore as Maui made use of his magic powers, making the shoreline seem much further away than it was in reality.

So the brothers continued rowing, and once they were far out into the ocean Maui dropped his magic fishhook over the side of the waka. After a while he felt a strong tug on the line. This seemed to be too strong a tug to be any ordinary fish, so Maui called to his brothers for assistance.

After much straining and pulling, up suddenly surfaced Te Ika a Maui (the fish of Maui), known today as the North Island of New Zealand. Maui told his brothers that the Gods might be angry about this, and he asked his brothers to wait while he went to make peace with the Gods.

However, once Maui had gone his brothers began to argue among themselves about the possession of this new land. They took out their weapons and started pounding away at the catch. The blows on the land created the many mountains and valleys of the North Island today.

The South Island is known as Te Waka a Maui (the waka of Maui). Stewart Island, which lies at the very bottom of New Zealand, is known as Te Punga a Maui (Maui's anchor), as it was the anchor holding Maui's waka as he pulled in the giant fish.

Tāwhirimātea lived between the embrace of Ranginui and Papatūānuku as did the other children of his whānau. He liked living close to his parents. He could talk to his mother, and get advice from his father when he needed to. Tāwhirimātea didn't mind the difficulties of living in continual darkness, or that space was so confined that he and the rest of his siblings had to crawl to get around. But the other children had had enough.

The people of Ngāti Tūwharetoa, an iwi (tribe) in the central north island, have their own set of stories to explain the creation of the area’s famous mud pools, geysers, and volcanic plateaus. Oral tradition tells us that the high priest Ngātoroirangi and his sisters Te Hoata and Te Pupu brought fire to New Zealand from Hawaiki, the ancestral homeland. On his inland travels, the high priest first discovered Taupōnui-a-Tia (or simply, Taupō). As he delved further into Onetapu, next to modern-day Turangi, he was faced with extremely cold weather conditions – ultimately calling out to his sisters to come out in the form of fire under the earth, forming the geothermal wonders we know today

Tutira worked and sometimes played with the children of the rangatira. Tutira was envious of his friends when he was left to the gardens and regular chores and they were taken to be instructed as future leaders.

The years passed and Tutira grew into a young man. One of Tutira's special friends was Kawariki, the daughter of a powerful tohunga called Matakite. Kawariki was raised to be a future leader of their tribe and Matakite insisted that she train hard to fulfil her role.

One day Matakite announced that Kawariki had been betrothed to a rangatira from a neighbouring tribe, securing allies and strengthening blood ties between both tribes. From that day on, Kawariki was forbidden to see or talk to Tutira. But Kawariki was a strong willed young woman who thought for herself. She secretly sent messages to Tutira and would often meet him at night at a quiet place in the hills. Together they would lie on their backs, look up at the night sky and talk of their dreams. This is how their love for each other first began.

When the wedding preparations began, Kawariki refused to cooperate, stating she would never marry a person she didn't love. Matakite became suspicious and decided to keep a close eye on his daughter. One night, when Kawariki snuck out of her whare, and up into the hills, Matakite secretly followed behind.

Matakite found Kawariki and Tutira together and instantly cast a powerful spell. Kawariki screamed in horror as Tutira fell to the ground squirming in agony as his body darkened and took on the form of a fish, then slithered into the bush. Kawariki tried to plead with her father to reverse the spell but Matakite ignored her and walked off into the night.

Kawariki desperately searched for Tutira, but to no avail. Finally she sat and calmed her mind, asking for guidance from Tāne Mahuta. Tāne Mahuta sent her a vision which led Kawariki through the bush to where Tutira lay. Two eyes glowed dimly in the dark. Kawariki scrambled through the undergrowth pulling back tangled vines and branches, finding the body of a shark. The shark was dying, its eyes glassing over, its gills moving ever so slightly.

Kawariki grabbed Tutira by the tail and dragged him through the bush towards the sea. She called on Tāne Mahuta to clear a pathway and once more he answered her call. It was just before dawn when Kawariki finally succeeded in dragging Tutira to the beach and laying him in shallow water. His eyes had turned grey, stared blankly ahead, his body limp and lifeless.

Kawariki held him in her arms, her salt water tears falling onto the shark as she sang her lament. Hinemoana, atua of the ocean, heard the despair in Kawariki's song and was moved by her grief. Hinemoana began a powerful oriori which she sent on a wave and upon reaching Kawariki, filled her tears with magic.

Life slowly returned to Tutira's shark body, twisting in the shallow water. Kawariki released him and he headed to deeper water and out to sea. Just before Tutira was completely submerged, he turned back to Kawariki and spoke in a raspy voice. "When the new moon rises, wait on this shore and I will come to you." Tutira turned and disappeared into the waves and the embrace of Hinemoana.

Matakite decreed that the date for Kawariki to be married was set for the summer. Her husband to be and many of his tribe would be travelling by waka with gifts and food to celebrate the special occasion. Matakite and the rest of the tribe worked hard to have everything ready for the hui.

When the new moon rose, Kawariki waited on the shore looking out to sea. Kawariki expected to see a dorsal fin swimming towards her, but instead, Tutira appeared from behind some rocks. He had changed back into his shape as a man.

Kawariki and Tutira stayed together all night. When morning neared Tutira insisted that he had to leave, but Kawariki refused to let him go. Tutira led Kawariki into shallow water, he explained that when Kawariki cried over him, Hinemoana had filled her tears with magic. Magic which gave him the ability to change back into his human form each month, when the new moon rose, the one condition being, that he returned to the sea by morning.

As the first rays of the new day began to colour the sky, the morning light changed Tutira's skin to the dark grey of a shark. Tutira and Kawariki vowed to meet again before Tutira took on his shark form, thrashed his tail and glided through the shallow water. He then descended into the depths of the ocean and the world where fish and sea creatures fled from his path. When the new moon rose each month, Kawariki and Tutira met and strengthened their love for each other. But as the wedding drew near, Kawariki was forced to tell Tutira of her fate. Tutira was powerless to influence anything in Kawariki's life. With great sadness he turned back to his ocean world, knowing he would never see Kawariki again.

When the day finally arrived for Kawariki's marriage, she was taken to the beach with the rest of her tribe to welcome the visitors. The sea was calm, a perfect day for travelling by waka. When the neighbouring tribe were seen on the horizon facing their waka towards the beach, the tohunga, Matakite, stood and recited an incantation to guide their waka safely to land. But Hinemoana was angry with Matakite, she remembered how he had used sea magic without her permission when he cast his spell on Tutira. Hinemoana refused Matakite's request for safe passage and instead sent a huge wave rolling in from the ocean. The wave overturned the waka and the visiting tribe were forced to cling to the overturned hull.

Tutira, who was guarding the coast, came to the rescue of those that were in danger. With his dorsal fin caught in the upturned waka, Tutira was able to pull the waka and the people out of danger and into shore. Kawariki's people stood in disbelief when they realised a shark had saved their visitors. Matakite the tohunga was silent, his magic had failed and he was overwhelmed with shame.

Kawariki ran into the water and embraced the shark to the amazement of her tribe. With her people gathered around, Kawariki explained that this was Tutira, that he had been changed into a shark by her father and that she loved him dearly.

Both tribes watched in silence, Tutira thrashed his tail and turned to leave, but Matakite suddenly raised his hands and pleaded for him to stay.

Matakite first acknowledged his great ancestress Hinemoana, thanking her for her wisdom and teachings. He had been blinded by his own ambitions, disregarding his daughter and her right to choose as a rangatira in her own right. Matakite reversed his spell and Tutira was instantly changed back into human form.

Tutira lay in the shallow water, his brown body tattooed with the dark red moko of a shark, a mark of his status as a rangatira of the sea, a gift from Hinemoana.

After having witnessed such a display, both tribes knew the gods favoured a union between Tutira and Kawariki. The wedding plans were changed, Tutira and Kawariki were married and the celebrations lasted for many days.

In the years that followed Kawariki and Tutira became trusted leaders, with a great respect for their people and a close relationship with Tāne Mahuta and Hinemoana.

They had many offspring, born with the distinctive red moko of a shark. To this day, the moko of a shark can be seen worn by people living close to the ocean, a sign that they have descended from the ancestors Kawariki and Tutira.

This is the story of Kawariki and the shark man.

"Do you see that?" Koro Pat pointed out to sea. Two black triangular wings broke the surface, slapping down on the orange coloured water.

"It's a stingray!" yelled the kids in unison, running to the water's edge. Kimi picked up a stone ready to throw but Koro Pat stopped her short.

"Hoi, you wouldn't throw a stone at your Mum would you?" Kimi looked confused, she dropped her stone.

"Haere mai, noho mai," Koro patted the driftwood log. Kimi, Jason and Marama came and sat next to him.

"I'll tell you about a stingray, a kaitiaki of this place."

"Our own one that looks after us?" Marama asked.

"Āe, yours, mine, our marae, all of us. We look after the water, this land, and our kaitiaki looks after us."

Kimi used a stick to pull her pāua, cooking in its shell, from the fire. The others followed suit, crouching over the stones, listening. Koro began.

"Whaitere was a stingray, from the black wings whānau, who lived in a small bay, at the head of the fish of Māui. Her parents raised her as others were raised – gathering food and playing with her fish friends in the weed and around large rocks.

Whaitere was taught from a young age to be wary of the people fish, who covered the water with their fish traps catching anything that crossed their paths. They were known to travel on the surface of the water, suddenly arriving upon huge noisy shadows to feed their sticky traps into the sea.

The people fish had already taken many from Whaitere's small community, although she was too young to know they would never return.

As the years passed, changes to Whaitere's home became more noticeable. Food was harder to come by, friends suddenly disappeared, and one evening when Whaitere returned to the resting place she called home, her parents were nowhere to be seen.

Whaitere spent that night searching, swimming blindly in the dark shadowed sea. Stories of the people fish flashed through her mind, overwhelming her with fear. With heaviness in her wings and sadness in her heart, Whaitere floated slowly to the sea floor, her saltwater tears joining the huge ocean.

Whaitere remained on the sea floor through the night and the next day. Sand covered her dark skin so that only her eyes protruded, watching from beneath. Tāmure and other fish friends searched for Whaitere and her parents, calling into the weed. But none of them were found.

Rimurimu, drifting in the currents, heard the fish calling and knew she would have to tell of what she had seen. She whispered into the tide, "The people fish have come with their fish traps, stretching across our home, taking our children, the black wings too."

Whaitere heard the whispers on the currents and sprang from her hiding place.

"They haven't taken my parents, they haven't, they haven't!"

Whaitere sped herself away, flattened herself on the sandy bottom and once more closed her world around her. Tāmure tried his best to comfort his friend, he brought her food and sang her songs, but without success.

In the days that followed, Whaitere could think only of her mother and father. She remembered the karakia they said each morning giving thanks to Hinemoana and Tangaroa.

"Why would the people fish take my parents when they were so good to others?" Whaitere cried. And her wings became heavier still, sinking further into the sea floor.

It was a dark quiet place, deep inside herself where Whaitere found a calmness that settled her heart. And from that place a karakia of her own emerged, words not formed, not said, but felt and given.

Her karakia, filled with love, floated in the tides, washed against the shores, rode on the waves of the great seas and spoke to Tangaroa, Hinemoana and all of their children. Hinemoana came to Whaitere in the form of a wave, a deep blue wave of enchantment. With encircling arms Hinemoana picked Whaitere up and carried her away. Away to the deepest parts of the ocean they flew, finally descending through the darkness, past the gates of Hinenuitepō and into Rarohenga, the home of all who die.

"This is Rarohenga, the underworld – your parents now dwell here," Hinemoana said as she gently released Whaitere from her grasp. "Should you eat the food of this place, you will remain here forever. I will return at the day's end for our journey back."

With that, Hinemoana disappeared back towards the way they had come and Whaitere swam into a sea, tinted with the colours of the rainbow and surrounded by the dazzling creatures of Rarohenga.

Whaitere didn't recognise her parents at first, but could tell by their shape that they were whai. Their black wings had been transformed into the colours of the pāua shell, intricate patterns woven into their skin. When they called her name, Whaitere knew that her mother and father were once more by her side. She could only embrace them and cry.

"Why did you leave me? I don't want to be by myself!"

Whaitere's parents said nothing in return. Instead, they embraced their daughter then took her on a journey to see the sights of the underworld.

They visited the crystal caves, where songs and languages of every sea creature are embedded in millions of different coloured crystals.

They visited the underwater rainbow, a mountainous spiral of rainbow colours where sea creatures fashion their own particular ways of dancing with the sea.

They visited the eternal gardens, where every food imaginable continues to replenish itself.

Whaitere dived down and settled herself amongst the huge range of colourful foods, considering them carefully with her wing tips.

"If I eat here in Rarohenga, I'll always be with you."

Her parents looked at each other and then back to their daughter.

"Come with us we have one more place to visit", said her mother.

Together they swam past the eternal gardens and down into a huge circular cave. "This is the eternal spring, said her father, one of the sacred veins of Papatūānuku."

With that her mother said a special karakia and they continued down into a tunnel of light, deep into the veins of Papatūānuku.

After travelling for some time, they came to a cavern branching off to one side, illuminated with a deep green light reflecting from its walls. In the centre of the cavern was the source of the green light – a large flat piece of pounamu was suspended just below the water's surface, rippling with magic.

"Rest on this rock," Whaitere's mother gestured.

Whaitere cautiously drifted down to rest as she was told. When her underbelly touched the surface of the pounamu she was instantly transformed, weaving pāua shell colours into her dark skin. Layer upon layer of magical power surged through her body, gifts from her creator, Papatūānuku.

"The overworld and the underworld are inherently connected, without one there will not be the other," said her father.

"You've been chosen as a guardian for the overworld, teach others to respect your home as you do." said her mother.

"But I want to stay here with you!" Whaitere complained.

"Your magic will allow you many things, including the ability to come and go from both worlds as you wish," her father replied.

Whaitere flapped her newly coloured wings, swimming up to the surface thinking to her self, and then returned to where her parents were waiting. She stretched out her multi-coloured wings and embraced them both.

"As long as I can always come and see you," she said.

And with that they returned up through the veins of Papatūānuku and into Rarohenga where they continued to take in the wonders of the magical underworld.

At the end of the day Hinemoana returned as she had promised and carried Whaitere back to the world she knew.

Tāmure and his friends first thought they had a stranger in their midst until Whaitere spoke.

"It's only me." she said, "Our tipuna, Hinemoana, took me to the underworld, to where my parents now live. I have seen and felt the magic of our creator Papatūānuku."

"Whaitere – the enchanted stingray!" Tāmure called.

And sea creatures from all around came to marvel at the beautiful pāua shell colours of Whaitere's skin.

The small bay was so filled with excitement that the water boiled with life. All of sudden the shadows of the people fish were seen approaching and the alarm went out. Panic spread through the large gathering and they all began to scatter.

Whaitere floated to the surface looking down at the mayhem below her.

"Stop!" she said, "We need to teach the people fish that we have as much right to this place as they!"

As Whaitere was speaking a huge shadow raced towards her. The assembly of sea creatures were spellbound as Whaitere dove under the shadow, and turned onto her back. Her skin pulsed with magic as she flapped her wings and a massive surge of water hurtled towards the dark shape. The shadow wobbled and shuddered then a people fish toppled into the sea. Other shadows headed towards them, but soon succumbed to the same fate.

The people fish swam to shore, all except one who sank to the bottom of sea. Whaitere and the others watched as his lungs filled with water, his eyes enlarged with a blank stare and his arms stretched out.

"Teach them to respect your home."

Whaitere could hear the words of her parents echoing in her mind.

Whaitere looked into the eyes of the people fish, then spoke to him in a language he could understand.

"Go back to your people and teach them to respect this place. Our bay will be an example for all your kind and a safe place for ours."

With that, Whaitere lifted the people fish onto her back and returned him to shore.

From that time on, fishing was limited in the small bay and once more it became a safe place for all sea creatures. Whaitere was seen as the kaitiaki, the guardian, and respected as such by people fish and sea creatures alike.

The people fish came to marvel and dance with the sea creatures, new songs floated up from the underworld and once more life continued as it should.

Koro Pat looked at the wide eyed children in front of him. Kimi held her pāua shell up to the sky. "I want to have pāua colours, magic ones," she said.

"It takes magic to look after a place like this", Koro replied.

'Is that why we only get enough pāua for us to eat?" asked Marama.

"That's why." Koro said.

"And Whaitere is real because we saw one, eh Koro?" Jason asked.

"That's right, and when you're old like me, you'll tell this same story to your mokopuna, won't you?" Koro asked.

"That's for sure." Kimi answered.

And the three children sprung to life, spread their arms and chased each other like enchanted stingrays in a magical underwater world.

But Māui's brothers would always make an excuse. "No you're much too young to come fishing with us. We need all the room in our waka for the many fish that we catch."I'll only take up a little bit of room, and I'll stay out of trouble, I promise," Māui would argue.

The eldest brother would reply, "You're so skinny we might mistake you for some bait and throw you overboard for the fish to eat."

Māui would get angry. "I'll teach them, he'd say to himself, "I'll prove how good I am!"

Secretly Māui hatched a plan to prove he was a great fisherman. One night when Māui was alone he began weaving a strong fishing line from flax. As he wove he recited an old karakia to give his fishing line strength.