Datu Dumaalon
Datu Dumaalon sat cross-legged in Kalawti's hut, his fingers idly tracing the worn wooden beads of his necklace as he waited. The air inside was thick with the mingling scents of burning herbs and the faint, briny tang of the ocean breeze filtering through the woven walls. Smoke curled from the small clay brazier in the center of the hut, rising in slow, deliberate spirals as the babaylan worked.
Kalawti sat before the fire, her hands moving with practiced ease as she threw another handful of dried leaves into the flames. The embers crackled, spitting tiny sparks into the dimly lit space.
"The spirits are quiet today," Kalawti murmured, tilting her head as if listening to something only she could hear. Her voice was low, carrying the weight of years spent navigating the unseen forces that governed their world. "But they have not turned away from us. The ocean is plentiful, they are telling."
Dumaalon exhaled through his nose, a slow, measured breath. Good. The village needed bounty. With the Rajah's growing demands, they could not afford a poor harvest from land or sea.
Yet his thoughts drifted elsewhere, to the foreigner.
The man had been quiet and obedient since his arrival, but Punay had noticed strange habits, how he easily coerced the children into a war game, how he stretched his limbs in deliberate motions each morning, how he swam not out of necessity but with the ease of someone following a ritual. And then there was the way he spoke of a great boat, one so massive it dwarfed even the largest ships of the pale-skinned traders who sometimes came bearing gold and silk. A vessel larger than their village itself.
Perhaps he should speak with the foreigner, or better yet, have Alunay take him to sea. Let him prove his usefulness and, in doing so, reveal what he knew. But she would need to be careful. If the foreigner belonged to a powerful datu, they could not afford to be seen as stealing trade secrets.
Decision made, Dumaalon rose to his feet. "I will let Alunay go" he murmured, more to himself than to Kalawti. "If the ocean is generous, I want her to return with more than just pearls."
Kalawti merely nodded, her eyes still locked on the flames as if reading secrets within their depths.
The path to the river bend was well-trodden, lined with the dense foliage of the jungle that had long since learned to respect the village boundaries. Dumaalon moved with the ease of a man who had walked it countless times before, his keen eyes scanning the shadows between trees out of habit. Even here, so close to home, a warrior did not let his guard down.
As he neared the bend, the unmistakable scent of raw meat thickened the air. The sound of splashing water accompanied the deep, guttural grunts of feeding crocodiles. A small gathering of the beasts lounged in the shallows, their ridged backs barely breaking the surface, their powerful jaws clamping down on the offerings thrown to them.
Alunay stood at the water's edge, her spear slung across her back, watching with a calm detachment as her favored crocodile snapped up a chunk of meat. The beast, larger than the others, lifted its head, letting the last of the flesh slide down its gullet before sinking lazily back into the river.
Dumaalon stopped a few paces behind her, arms crossed. "You spoil them."
Alunay did not turn, but he saw the smirk tug at the corner of her lips. "I feed them so they do not feed on us."
"Clever girl," he said, though his voice remained neutral. He let the moment stretch before speaking again. "The spirits favor the ocean today. You may go."
At that, Alunay straightened, the easy amusement in her posture giving way to something more eager. The sea called to her like an old friend, its vast horizon full of promise. She had spent too many days bound to the land, too many days waiting. Now, at last, she could return to the waves.
She had just turned to head back to the village to prepare for the trip when Dumaalon's voice halted her.
"Bring Aso with you."
Alunay frowned, her excitement dimming. "Why? Are you sure? Punay told me he can swim, but that's just river swimming. The ocean is a different kind of danger."
"Exactly," Dumaalon said. "Punay also said he spoke of a very large boat, larger than any we have seen. Inquire about it, but be subtle. We do not want to be accused of stealing trade secrets when the time comes to ransom him."
Alunay clicked her tongue, glancing toward the river where the crocodiles lingered, their hungry eyes just visible above the surface. Then she exhaled, rolling her shoulders. "Fine. But if he drowns, it's not my fault."
Dumaalon smirked as he turned away. "Just don't feed him to the sharks. We still need him breathing."
Evan jolted awake at the sharp press of something firm against his side. Blinking against the morning light, he groggily made out the shape of Alunay standing over him, the butt of her spear nudging his ribs.
"Get up," she said, her tone firm but not unkind. "We're going to the ocean."
Evan groaned, rubbing his face. "What, now?"
Alunay sighed, impatience creeping into her voice. "Yes. We leave now."
Evan trudged after Alunay, yawning while still shaking off the last remnants of sleep. The sky was painted in the soft hues of dawn, streaks of pale gold and pink stretching over the horizon. The air was cool, carrying the mingling scents of salt, damp earth, and the faint smoke from dying cooking fires. Around them, the village stirred to life at its own slow pace. The roosters were only just beginning to crow, their calls scattered and half-hearted, as if they, too, resented being up so early.
Alunay turned around and tossed him a small bundle of food. "Eat. You'll need your strength."
Evan caught it, eyeing the wrapped meal of dried fish and sticky rice. His stomach grumbled in response, reminding him that breakfast wasn't something he could afford to be picky about. He unwrapped it and took a bite, chewing slowly as he glanced at Alunay.
She stood with her usual air of quiet confidence, the early morning light catching the sharp lines of her face. Her spear was strapped across her back, and her stance was relaxed but purposeful.
"Where exactly are we going?" Evan asked between bites.
"To gather pearls and fish," she said simply. "And you're coming with us."
Evan paused mid-chew. "Wait, why?"
Alunay glanced toward the river, where several warriors were already making their way toward the boat. "You swim every morning. You might as well be useful."
Evan swallowed, a flicker of unease settling in his stomach. "River swimming and ocean swimming aren't the same thing." All he got from Alunay was a shrug.
As they neared the riverbank, Evan caught sight of the boat waiting for them. It was a long and sturdy wooden vessel crafted from planks held together with carefully woven rattan fiber. Its hull was sleek, designed to glide swiftly through both rivers and open sea. The boat had an outrigger on one side, a bamboo frame extending outward to provide balance against the unpredictable ocean waves. Inside, woven baskets and clay pots were already loaded, likely meant for storing their catch.
A simple sail, made of tightly woven nipa palm leaves, was furled against the single mast, though Evan assumed they would row first before catching the morning wind. Several warriors were already aboard, checking the ropes and securing fishing equipment, long spears, net bundles, and woven bags likely meant for collecting pearls from the seabed.
Compared to the flimsy, hastily-assembled boats that modern-day Filipino boaters used for scam-priced tourist excursions, this vessel was far more solidly built, crafted with care, precision, and generations of seafaring expertise.
Evan settled himself onto the boat, careful not to rock it too much as he adjusted to its slight sway. The warriors around him moved with practiced ease, untying the moorings and pushing off from the shore with long wooden poles.
Alunay took her place near the bow, eyes fixed ahead as the warriors took up their paddles. Their strokes were strong and synchronized, cutting through the river's surface with quiet efficiency. Evan sat near the center, keeping his head low, wary of drawing too much attention to himself.
At first, he wondered why no one had handed him a paddle, but it didn't take long for the answer to dawn on him. One uncoordinated rower could easily throw off the entire rhythm of the boat, slowing them down or, worse, making them veer off course. Realizing this, he felt nothing but relief that no one expected him to contribute.
The men around him weren't openly hostile, but their distrust hung heavy in the air. He caught glimpses of wary glances from the corners of his eyes, and some didn't bother to hide their disdain, shooting him near-hateful stares. If this were modern times, he'd assume they had just found out he slept with their mother, but here, in the ancient world, he had no clue what he'd done to earn their scorn.
The river widened as they neared the mouth where fresh water met the sea. The air grew saltier, the breeze stronger, carrying with it the cries of seabirds circling overhead. The rhythm of paddles continued, steady and unyielding, until the boat finally emerged from the estuary and into the open ocean.
Evan's gaze drifted to the shoreline, expecting open sand, but instead, he found himself staring at a dense expanse of mangrove forests. Towering roots rose from the water like tangled stilts, forming a labyrinth of twisting trunks and thick foliage. The trees stood half-submerged, their emerald leaves rustling softly in the wind, while beneath them, the water shimmered with life, fish darting between the roots, small crabs scuttling along the exposed mud. The entire scene looked untouched, wild, and straight out of a resort brochure.
He blinked, momentarily forgetting his unease. In his time, places like this were rare, either paved over, fenced off for exclusive resort deals, cleared for development, or filled with plastic waste. But here, the mangroves were thriving, stretching endlessly along the coast, a natural barrier between land and sea.
Evan inhaled deeply, the scent of salt filling his lungs. The ocean stretched endlessly before them, its surface glittering beneath the first full light of morning.
Alunay gave a sharp nod to one of the warriors, and with that signal, the paddlers shifted their efforts. Some continued rowing, while others unfurled the sail, letting the wind catch and propel them forward. The sudden lift in speed sent a small thrill through Evan's chest, this wasn't the sluggish, spluttering ride of modern motorized boats. It was smooth, almost effortless, the vessel cutting through the waves like it belonged there.
After some time, the deeper waters revealed hints of what lay below. As the sun rose higher, Evan caught glimpses of the coral reefs beneath them, colorful shapes shifting beneath the waves, teeming with life. Schools of fish darted through the currents, their silvery bodies flashing like scattered coins.
Alunay finally turned to him. "We're nearly there."
Evan followed her gaze to a small cluster of rock formations jutting from the sea in the distance. The water here was a brilliant, almost unnatural shade of blue, a stark contrast to the darker depths beyond.
"That's where we dive," she said.
Evan exhaled slowly, his pulse quickening. He had snorkeled before, once with family, a few times with friends, and he had always loved the experience. But as he stared at the deep, endless expanse beyond the reefs, a chill crept up his spine. The ocean was breathtaking, yet it was also vast, unpredictable, and utterly indifferent to those who entered its depths.
Sharpened wooden prying sticks were checked for cracks. Some warriors inspected their long, barbed spears, meant for fending off unwanted company in the water, whether large fish, sharks, or even territorial sea creatures Evan didn't want to think too much about. A few carried pouches of crushed herbs, which they scattered into the water in careful motions. From the murmurs around him, Evan gathered it was meant to deter certain fish, though whether through scent or some sort of mystical belief, he wasn't sure.
As the preparations continued, Alunay crouched beside him, her expression unreadable. Her tone was casual, but her eyes held an intent sharpness.
"You swim every morning," she observed. "Where did you learn?"
Evan swallowed, caught slightly off guard. "My mom forced me."
Alunay tilted her head. "Are you a warrior?"
He shook his head quickly. "No, no, I'm not a scout or a warrior."
Her brows furrowed slightly. "Then why did your mother want you to learn to swim if you weren't going to fight?"
Evan hesitated for a moment, trying to find a way to explain it in a way she'd understand. "She just wanted me to learn new things. And, well… she was hoping that if I got good enough, I could get a scholarship."
Alunay narrowed her eyes. "Scholarship? What is that? A rank among elite warriors?"
Evan let out a small chuckle. "No, no, nothing like that." He gave an awkward shrug. "It's just… uh, it's kind of hard to explain."
Alunay hummed in thought, clearly not satisfied with his vague response. After a moment, she shifted the conversation. "Punay says you spoke of a boat. A very large one."
Evan blinked. Well modern boats are really huge. Maybe she meant aircraft carriers? Then he realized what she was referring to. Oh! In the Noah story.
Alunay gave him a questioning look.
"Yeah, yeah," he continued. "We have a story, well, a myth, actually, about a really, really big boat that saved animals and a family from a great flood."
Alunay frowned slightly. "And you know how to build this boat?"
Evan snorted. "No, no, it's just a story." But even as he said it, a thought nagged at him. Hmmmm, aircraft carriers. His mind wandered. Could I actually build a metal boat here? He frowned. How would I propel it? Steam power? A steam locomotive could work… but do we even have coal here? I think Indonesia has coal, but does the Philippines? He tried to recall, but his historical knowledge was fuzzy.
Alunay must have noticed him drifting into thought again because she scoffed and interrupted, snapping him back to reality. "That's a dumb myth," she said. "How would they populate the world if it was only one family? Would the brother marry the sister? That would just curse their bloodline."
Evan blinked, caught off guard by her blunt logic. He couldn't exactly argue. "Ah, yeah. It's just a story we tell children, haha." He gave another awkward shrug, then immediately wondered how many more of those he'd have to give before this trip was over.