It was while she was handing guavas to an elderly couple that she noticed him.
He stood a little apart from the crowd, tall, dressed simply in a faded shirt and jeans. His skin was sun-warmed, his hair dark, his expression unreadable. He looked like a farmer—or maybe a traveler passing through.
But his eyes… they were sharp, steady, watching her with a focus that unsettled her.
When their gazes met, he inclined his head politely, then stepped closer.
"Good harvest," he said, his voice deep but quiet. "These fruits—are they really from the old trees?"
Bianca hesitated, then nodded. "Yes. I guess the land still has strength."
He studied her for a moment longer, then reached for a guava. His fingers brushed hers briefly, warm and calloused. He took a slow bite, chewed thoughtfully, then smiled faintly.
"You've done something remarkable," he said. "The land responds to you."
Bianca blinked. "Excuse me?"
But before she could ask more, Aling Rosa tugged at her arm, pulling her away to meet another group of neighbors. When she glanced back, the man had blended into the crowd.
---
By midday, the baskets were empty. Bianca and Lara stayed to eat lunch at a small carinderia, chatting with villagers who came to thank her again.
The atmosphere was warm, almost celebratory. Yet Bianca couldn't shake the image of the stranger's eyes—calm, knowing, as if he understood something about her that she herself didn't.
---
Unseen by her, the man had taken a seat near the edge of the square. He watched as Bianca laughed with the villagers, as she shared food and stories. He saw how the land's energy seemed to follow her, how even the air felt lighter where she stood.
When one of the guava rinds was tossed aside, he retrieved it quietly, examining the faint shimmer that clung to the skin. He crushed it in his hand, and the glow faded.
Yes. The gift was awakening. And so were the dangers that came with it.
For now, he would stay close. Protect her from the shadows without revealing himself.
But sooner or later, she would need to know.
---
That evening, back at the hacienda, Bianca sat on the veranda with a cup of tea. Pochi bleated from his pen, the ducks quacked softly by the pond, and the air smelled of fresh guava.
"Today was good," she murmured.
Kaloy appeared on the railing, tail curling around his paws. "Good, yes. But peace…" His golden eyes met hers. "…never lasts long."
Bianca's hand tightened around her cup. Somewhere in the bamboo forest, an owl called once, low and haunting.
And though she tried to shake it off, she felt the weight of unseen eyes still on her—watching, waiting.
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End of Chapter 15