CHAPTER TEN: Ang Pagkikita ng Diwata at Sugo (The Meeting of the Fairy and the chosen one )
The celebration in Urdaneta's plaza was in full swing, a vibrant spectacle of color and sound. The festivities had grown lavish and boisterous, with townsfolk dancing joyfully to the performances on the stage set up by the city hall for the mayor's birthday.
The crowd buzzed with life, their laughter and cheers filling the air as they reveled in the moment.
But in the midst of the merriment, a sudden commotion broke out. A group of people sprinted through the plaza, their faces pale with panic as they rushed toward the gathered crowd.
Confusion spread like wildfire. The mayor's civilian guards sprang into action, alarmed by the growing chaos. The police quickly formed a protective circle around the mayor, raising their shields to prevent a stampede and ensure his safety.
At first, they assumed this was the work of rebels, but no attackers were in sight. The mayor glanced nervously at General Slasher, who stood poised, his sharp eyes scanning the horizon as if anticipating the start of a hunt.
"Time to catch some rats," the general muttered, a cold smirk tugging at his lips.
The mayor hurried to his side, pleading with him to proceed cautiously, worried about the safety of the wealthy businessmen in attendance. But, as always, Slasher dismissed his concerns with a wave, showing no interest in sparing the mayor's guests.
Rising from his seat, the general shoved the old man aside and summoned the police with a sharp command. "Leave no rebel alive," he ordered, his voice dripping with menace. "Let's make this a bloody day for these indios."
The police dispersed, drawing their high-caliber rifles and positioning mobile units around the plaza, ready for battle.
Yet, despite the frantic running of the townsfolk from the outskirts, there were still no visible signs of rebels or violence. The officers exchanged puzzled glances, their weapons at the ready but with no enemy in sight.
"Mayor! Bad news!" a breathless policeman shouted, rushing to the mayor's side to report the unfolding crisis.
According to him, giant tree-monsters were rampaging through the city, their wooden forms destroying everything in their path.
The mayor scoffed, refusing to believe such a fantastical report. "You fools! You're ruining my birthday with this nonsense. Walking trees on the streets? What kind of rubbish are you spouting?" he snapped, his face red with anger.
But his disbelief was short-lived. The ground beneath them began to tremble, a rhythmic quake every three seconds, accompanied by a deep, thunderous sound-like the footsteps of something colossal.
All eyes turned toward the end of the street, about a kilometer from the plaza. There, in the distance, they saw enormous figures approaching. Gasps rippled through the crowd as they beheld a massive tree, moving with purpose, its roots dragging across the ground as it marched toward them. Surrounding it were countless smaller tree-monsters, their forms grotesque and menacing, scattering in all directions.
The onlookers stood frozen, torn between awe and terror. Car alarms blared as the quakes intensified, the ground shuddering with each step of the towering creatures.
"Damn it, what in blazes are those things?" the mayor stammered, his voice trembling.
"It seems the rebels prepared quite a gift for your birthday, Mr. Mayor," Slasher replied, his tone laced with dark amusement.
The mayor turned to the general, desperation in his eyes as he begged him to do something about the rebels.
"Quiet," Slasher snapped, brushing the mayor off as he clung to his arm. "I don't care if the people in your town die, but don't worry-I'll still hunt them down. It's my duty."
Meanwhile, back at the Siklaon camp, Erik sat alone in a small hut, the group having departed to launch their attack.
After the events in the forest, he had done little but sit on a worn sofa, facing a small wooden table, waiting for Alfredo's return as instructed.
The room was dimly lit by an electric lamp on the table, its faint glow casting long shadows on the walls. The only sound was the chirping of crickets outside, a stark contrast to the turmoil in Erik's mind.
His thoughts were a tangled mess, torn between waiting for his friend and fleeing the camp entirely. What was the point of staying, when he couldn't condone Alfredo's plan to slaughter the townspeople just to reclaim Urdaneta?
Could he even face Alfredo if he succeeded, knowing his friend had become a merciless killer-a demon bent on destruction?
In that moment, the mysterious woman appeared before him, materializing out of thin air. She sat on the edge of the table, her piercing gaze fixed on Erik.
Erik's POV
"What's wrong? Aren't you going to do something?" she asked, her voice calm but pointed.
I didn't know how to respond-or why she was even here. Wasn't her mission to follow Alfredo?
She pressed further, asking what I thought of Alfredo's actions, his rebellion against the Spaniards now in full swing.
I couldn't answer, only shaking my head. She could tell I didn't approve, but she also knew how close I was to Alfredo-how I saw him as an older brother, someone I couldn't easily condemn.
"He wants to avenge his parents' deaths," she said, her tone sharp. "And in his desperation, he sacrificed every member of his group-"
"Enough!" I shouted, cutting her off, my voice raw with emotion.
I couldn't bear to hear more, but she didn't stop, continuing to paint Alfredo as a villain who used others for his own selfish ends. "He sacrificed his current family to seek revenge for the memory of his lost parents. But for what? It's absurd, isn't it?" she pressed.
I shot to my feet, my frustration boiling over as I yelled at her to stop speaking ill of Alfredo. I was defending him, clinging to the image of the friend I knew.
Without thinking, I lunged forward, grabbing her shoulders and pushing her down onto the table, my voice trembling as I tried to make her understand. "Stop it! Alfredo isn't a monster like you're saying!"
What did a spirit like her know about Alfredo's pain? He'd watched his parents die before his eyes, carrying that grief and guilt for years, blaming himself for not using the fairy's power to save them.
If I thought about it, he was only doing what was right-what was just. He was fighting for fairness, for the justice his people deserved.
I'd felt his care for every Siklaon member, treating them like siblings, like parents. I knew he didn't want to harm them, didn't want them to die. I was certain of that. But he'd grown desperate, left with no other way to defeat the Spaniards except by unleashing Tayog's power.
The Siklaon were a group willing to sacrifice their lives for the Filipinos suffering under Spanish oppression-so what was wrong with what Alfredo did? How could he be a traitor to his Siklaon family when they all knew the cost of their cause?
"Even now, you still see him so highly, as if he's some kind of hero," the woman interjected, her voice steady as I rambled on.
"They'll die for the noble cause of freeing Filipinos," I insisted, my resolve hardening. "To me, they're heroes of this nation."
"And that's why he used their lives to fuel his plan to massacre the Spaniards?" she countered. "Do you think that's the act of a hero?"
Her words hit me like a wave, and I froze, my grip on her loosening.
I couldn't explain it, but my anger and defiance melted away as her question sank in. I stumbled back, collapsing onto the sofa, my mind reeling.
"Heroes only do noble things," she continued, her voice softer now. "And I don't think what your friend is doing comes close to that."
I realized she might be right. Heroes were meant to do great, selfless things-and Alfredo's actions were far from that.
Maybe I'd been wrong to see him as a good person. He'd been kind to me, and I cherished his care, the way he treated me like a younger brother. "I grew up with no one else who cared for me like an older sibling the way Alfredo did," I admitted, my voice trembling. "I hoped that would last. No-I wanted it to last. That's why I can't bring myself to hate him, even when I know what he's doing is wrong."
"So you'll just let him do this, even though it's not right?" she asked, her tone probing.
Her words felt like a challenge, cutting through my excuses. I didn't want Alfredo to do this, but what could I do? Even if I opposed him, nothing would change. I was powerless, stuck sitting here like a useless bystander, waiting for the outcome. That was the harsh truth.
The woman sat up on the table, her gaze steady as she spoke. "It's not true that you can't do anything. Out of the two of us, you should know better than anyone that you can do something."
I looked at her, startled, my eyes meeting her striking red ones.
Her words jogged my memory, reminding me of what she'd said before-about me being a Messenger, a role I hadn't yet fully accepted. I had no idea what kind of power I might gain, but a spark of longing ignited within me, a desire to embrace it.
"Do you want to stop him with your power as a Messenger?" she asked, as if reading my thoughts.
I was taken aback, her words echoing my unspoken yearning. She explained that a Messenger's power was unique-not just for stopping enemies, but for saving lives.
It could be a beacon of hope, a hero for all.
A power that could change the situation-a power only true heroes possessed. A power to help and save people.
But then I hesitated. If I gained this power, what would I do with it?
I was so caught up in the idea that I could do something, but if I actually obtained it, what then? Would I use it to stop Alfredo's plan? That would mean fighting him. And if I helped him instead, I'd be facing the Spaniards.
"But if I manage to stop Tayog, the Siklaon's sacrifices will be for nothing, and the Spaniards will continue oppressing the Filipinos in town," I whispered to myself. "It all feels so pointless. I can't fight, let alone kill anyone. So how can I stop a battle?"
Silence settled over the room as I sank back into despair, my fleeting hope fading once more.
I felt foolish for thinking I could make a difference, even with some newfound power. I'd never even fought other kids growing up, too afraid of getting hurt. What could I possibly do in a real battle? If I went to that battlefield, what would I even do?
"I can't stop Tayog-or the Spaniards. I can't do anything," I murmured, closing my eyes as I wallowed in my own weakness.
The room fell quiet, the weight of my words hanging in the air. The mysterious woman sensed my crumbling resolve, my lack of confidence in myself, and seemed to search for a way to help me.
"Is that really what you think?" she said suddenly, rising from the table and approaching me.
She knelt before me as I sat on the sofa, then leaned in close, pressing her forehead against mine.
In that moment, a strange sensation coursed through me, like an electric current flowing through my body as our foreheads touched.
I couldn't speak, my negative thoughts halting as my focus shifted entirely to the mysterious woman before me.
She closed her eyes, as if sensing my presence as a Messenger, and spoke softly. "A hero saves lives, not brings death. Stopping someone doesn't mean you have to kill them. Victory doesn't always require bloodshed."
A gentle warmth enveloped me, as if lifting my body off the ground. I began to see a white aura emanating from her, growing until it surrounded us, encasing us in a cage of light. The sensation was soothing, almost euphoric.
The room around me faded, consumed by the white aura, until it felt as though we'd been transported to a pure, white dimension.
"Remember," she said, her voice steady, "not everything you fight is an enemy. You stop them to save them, not to destroy them."
She asked me if I wanted to save Alfredo and the Siklaon from the darkness they were embracing. In that moment, I had no idea how I'd do it, but I answered without hesitation.
"I'll save them to the best of my ability."
She gently placed her hands over my eyes, urging me to close them. "Keep this in mind: heroes only do noble things. Sacrificing lives for a cause, like your friend is doing, is merely an escape. You don't need to die to be called a hero-because you have a far greater role to fulfill."
"Erik," she continued, her voice resonating with purpose, "you need to be the strength for everyone."
My eyes slowly closed, and I felt a shift in the air around me. A cool breeze brushed against my skin, and I heard the rustling of wind and the chirping of birds.
Gradually, I opened my eyes. To my shock, I found myself floating in the air, my arms outstretched. When I lowered them, I was stunned by what I saw.
I was in a vast meadow, surrounded by blooming flowers and lush greenery. The sky above was clear and bright, dotted with fluffy white clouds. A fresh breeze filled my lungs, and a crystal-clear river flowed nearby, its waters sparkling in the sunlight. Animals and birds played freely around me, their movements full of life.
The beauty of the place was breathtaking, a serene paradise I'd never imagined. But then a question struck me-why was I here?
I couldn't piece together how I'd arrived in such a place, and I wondered where the mysterious woman had gone.
As I pondered this, a voice spoke from behind me, soft and melodic. "What do you think of my home?"
My eyes widened as I recognized the voice. Memories of fragmented dreams flooded back-dreams where I'd heard that same voice calling to me.
I turned quickly to see who it belonged to, and as I did, a powerful gust of wind swept through, forcing my eyes shut once more.
But when I lowered my arms and opened my eyes again, I saw her-a beautiful woman standing amidst the flowers, gazing at me with a gentle smile.
Her sky-blue eyes sparkled like the heavens above. She had white hair with golden tips, cascading down her back, and wore a traditional Ifugao garment, its intricate patterns vibrant and ancient. A headband adorned with two feathers rested on her head, and three ribbon-like tendrils with star-shaped ends flowed behind her, swaying in the breeze.
I couldn't explain it, but an overwhelming joy surged within me, a lightness I'd never felt before, as if all my burdens had melted away in her presence.
I was captivated, drawn to her in a way I couldn't describe. This was the woman from my disjointed dreams, whose face I'd only glimpsed in fragments-now standing before me in all her radiant beauty.
She smiled warmly and said, "How are you, my Messenger?"
In that moment, I realized who she was-the fairy guardian from the stories, the one who had chosen me to carry out her duties.
I was her chosen one, a Sugo of Diwata.
I couldn't tear my eyes away from her, perhaps because I was enchanted by her beauty, or because I couldn't believe the fairy from my dreams was real.
But as we stood in silence, facing each other, she suddenly said something that left me utterly baffled.
"Um... by the way, my chosen one ," she asked, tilting her head with a curious expression, her hands on her hips, "why exactly are you here?"
"Huh?!" I blurted, caught completely off guard.
End of Chapter