As soon as he and Alunay broke the surface, he sucked in a breath and spoke quickly. "If they come back, push them away by the nose. Punch if you have to." His voice was tight with urgency, but steady.
Alunay, still catching her breath, whipped her head around to scan the water. Then she turned back to him. "The boat's almost here!" she shouted.
Evan followed her gaze and spotted the boat, drawing closer with each passing second. The distant shouts of the warriors carried over the water, their voices urgent. It was clear they had acted fast, steering toward them the moment they saw the sharks closing in. Relief surged through him, but he kept his muscles tense, he couldn't afford to let his guard down just yet.
From the boat, a voice finally cut through clearly.
"Get them out of there!"
Evan sucked in a deep breath and plunged his face beneath the surface, scanning the water for any sign of the sharks' return. His heart pounded as he searched, his eyes darting through the shifting blue. Nothing. No dark shapes, no ominous fins slicing toward them.
He surfaced, exhaling sharply, just as the boat closed in. The warriors moved with practiced efficiency, their bodies leaning over the edge, hands outstretched. In this time, there were no ropes or lifebuoys, rescues were done by sheer strength and coordination.
One of the warriors, already braced at the bow, extended a long wooden paddle toward them, offering it as something to grasp. Another dove in without hesitation, cutting through the water with powerful strokes. He reached Alunay first, gripping her forearm securely before signaling to the others. Two warriors on the boat immediately grabbed hold of his free arm, anchoring themselves as they hauled both him and Alunay toward the vessel.
Evan barely had time to react before another set of hands reached for him. A warrior hooked an arm under his shoulder, kicking hard to propel them both upward. As soon as they neared the side of the boat, multiple hands grasped Evan's arms and torso, hoisting him out of the water in one smooth motion.
He landed on the deck, gasping for breath, seawater streaming off him as the warriors quickly checked him over. There was no celebration yet, only hurried shouts to get the boat going.
The warriors circled around Evan, their expressions a mix of awe and disbelief. Some crouched beside him, inspecting his slightly bloodied hand, while others exchanged murmurs of amazement. One of them finally spoke up, shaking his head in wonder.
"You fought off three sharks with your bare hands? Without even a spear? And kept Alunay safe?"
Another warrior let out a low whistle. "I've seen men get their legs bitten clean off in waters like these. You don't even have a real wound."
Evan, still catching his breath, flexed his fingers and examined his palms, blood seeping from a hundred tiny scrapes. He couldn't feel the pain, adrenaline was still pumping through his veins. He let out a tired chuckle.
"Sharks aren't evil, you know. They're just big, hungry fish. They look terrifying because of their massive teeth, but they're more curious than mindless killers." He glanced up at the warriors, smirking. "Now, dolphins? Those guys are the real monsters. They'll play with you, but not the fun kind of playing."
The warriors exchanged puzzled looks before breaking into laughter. "Dolphins?" one of them repeated. "You must have hit your head down there, Aso."
Evan grinned but didn't argue. He wasn't ready to explain the existence of sea demons in cute packaging.
Alunay, who had been silent until now, finally stepped forward. Her face was unreadable for a moment, but then she let out a breath and met his gaze. "You could have left me," she said, her voice quieter than before.
Evan tilted his head. "I could've," he admitted, "but then I'd have to live with you haunting me forever."
Alunay blinked, then snorted. "I would've made your life miserable as a spirit."
"Exactly."
A small smile tugged at the corners of her lips, but it quickly faded. She stepped closer and, after a brief hesitation, placed a hand over his still-bleeding one. "Thank you, Aso," she said, sincerity in her voice.
Evan shrugged, trying to play it off. "No big deal."
But the way the warriors looked at him now, the way Alunay looked at him, told him that, to them, it was a big deal.
The journey back was far less tense, with lunch being distributed along the way. Evan, however, kept to himself, huddling near the bow of the boat, where the wooden planks met in a narrow, slightly raised point. It wasn't the most comfortable spot, but it gave him a sense of distance from the others, just enough to avoid drawing too much attention.
Despite his efforts, the warriors and divers kept sneaking glances at him, some grinning, others murmuring to each other. It was clear they were impressed, maybe even amused.
Evan shifted uncomfortably. Great. What if they decide I'm strong and start expecting me to wrestle a shark next time? Or worse, battle a crocodile? He vaguely remembered reading about how some cultures had rites of passage that involved fighting crocs. I mean, I should be past that, right? I'm way too old for a coming-of-age ritual…
By the time they arrived, the sun had shifted higher in the sky. Warriors jumped off to secure the boat, while others carried baskets of pearls and fish toward the village. Before heading back, they stopped by the fish traps set earlier.
Evan watched as they pulled the woven bamboo cages from the water, filled with wriggling fish. He crouched beside one, noting how the design funneled the fish inward, making it impossible for them to escape.
Simple, but clever.
As they worked, he caught snippets of conversation from the warriors nearby.
"He handled himself better than expected."
"Or maybe the spirits are playing tricks."
Alunay remained quiet, her gaze flickering between Evan and the water, as if trying to decide what to believe.
Evan sighed. Great. More mysteries to add to my existence here.
Datu Dumaalon
The riverbank was alive with movement as the warriors returned from their ocean voyage, their boats heavy with the spoils of the deep. The sun glinted off the wet wood of the hulls, reflecting the exhaustion and triumph in their eyes. Datu Dumaalon stood at the water's edge, his arms crossed over his chest as he observed their return. The air carried the scent of salt, mingling with the damp earth beneath his feet.
Alunay was the first to step forward. She bowed her head slightly in greeting before speaking. "The sea was generous, Father. The oyster beds were richer than we had hoped, and the pearls we gathered should be more than enough for the rajah."
Dumaalon nodded, his gaze sweeping over the warriors. Their movements were slower than usual, each step weighted by exhaustion and the heavy loads they carried. Yet, there was a quiet satisfaction in their weariness.
His eyes landed on Aso, standing slightly apart from the others, his stance uncertain. Rain drenched him, plastering his hair to his forehead, his shoulders hunched as if he didn't know what to do. Always confused, this dog.
"Punay," Dumaalon called, his voice carrying over the hum of activity. "Take Aso to his hut. Let him rest."
An older woman stepped forward, her hands firm as she guided Aso away. He did not resist, though he cast one last glance at the river, as if he were leaving something behind in its depths.
As Punay led Aso toward the village, the rest of the warriors continued unloading their goods. Baskets filled with oysters were hauled onto the shore, their rough exteriors concealing the treasures within. Others carried nets filled with fish, their efforts ensuring that the village would feast well in the coming days.
Alunay and Lantawan lingered behind, stepping closer to Dumaalon. There was something unsaid between them, something weighty. He saw it in their faces, the way Alunay's brow was drawn, the way Lantawan shifted on his feet.
Alunay was the first to speak. "Aso saved me."
Dumaalon blinked. "What?" He tilted his head. "Saved you from what?"
Alunay met his gaze, her expression unreadable. "Sharks."
Dumaalon straightened. "Sharks?" His voice came out sharper than he intended. He took a step forward, scanning her for injuries. "Are you hurt? Are you bleeding anywhere?"
Alunay shook her head. "No, I'm fine. Aso punched them away."
Dumaalon froze, staring at her. "…He what?"
Punched? Did she really say punched? How does one punch a shark?
He had heard of shark attacks before, rare, but not unheard of. Kalawti had even instructed the warriors to sprinkle crushed lanawog leaves in the water before diving. The herb was said to mask the scent of blood, keeping predators at bay.
Dumaalon exhaled, rubbing his forehead. "Wait. Did you do the ritual? Did someone drop blood in the water?"
Lantawan stepped in. "No, Datu. We followed the rituals. We didn't spill any blood or fish guts." He hesitated. "We were having a swimming competition. Alunay drifted too far from the boat."
Dumaalon let out a sharp breath. A swimming competition, what were they thinking? Had he been too soft with his warriors? Maybe it was time to remind them of discipline.
But Aso… punching sharks?
Alunay spoke up. "Aso told me to keep still. Maybe all the splashing and flailing is what attracted the sharks in the first place."
His gaze drifted to the big, tall man walking away from them with Punay. A man full of mysteries.
Turning back to Lantawan and Alunay, he said, "See to the harvest. Once it's handled, meet me at Kalawti's hut, I want a full account of everything that happened."
Dumaalon nodded as Lantawan and Alunay finished their retelling. "Thank you both for your report."
His gaze shifted to Lantawan, his tone firm. "Your warriors have grown too lax in their vigilance. That needs to change." Then, turning to Alunay, he added, "And you, you know better than to swim in the open sea without your spear. Never put yourself at such risk again."
He folded his arms. "Alunay, you will join Lantawan in the next training session. We cannot afford complacency. Our warriors must remain sharp, always ready."
He let his words settle before continuing. "For now, you're dismissed. Check on the pearls and the fish, make sure they're handled properly before you rest for the night."
Lantawan and Alunay stepped out of the hut, the latter moving with a heaviness in her stride. Though she said nothing, the slight droop of her shoulders betrayed her thoughts.
Dumaalon watched them go before turning to Kalawti. "I owe the boy a debt of gratitude."
Kalawti, ever pragmatic, met his gaze. "You will not welcome what I say, Datu. I know the depth of your love for your daughter. The boy saved her life. No one carries a greater debt to him than she. You could bind that debt with marriage."
Dumaalon's jaw tightened. He wasn't against it, not entirely. The boy was big, raw strength could be refined, and technique could be taught. He was a mystery, yes, but so far, a useful one. A man with secrets, and possibly great potential.
Alunay could do worse. Much worse. Many of her suitors from the tribes would take her for her beauty alone, seeing her as a prize rather than a person. At least Aso had proven his worth with action, not just empty words. He had risked his life for her. That was more than most men could say.
But no. That was impossible. It would only incite the Rajah's fury. This was precisely what the Rajah had feared. Aso was not of their blood, not of their people. They didn't even know who his people were.
But even if the Rajah's wrath was not a concern, there was another, more pressing issue, Alunay herself. Would she even allow it? She was proud, willful. If he forced her hand, she might flee, and then what? A debt of gratitude had to be repaid, but if she outright rejected it… what then? What would become of her?
Gold? He was not a wealthy man. The only symbol of his status was the finely crafted steel kris bestowed upon him by the Rajah. If he was to offer something truly valuable, he could only hope the merchants would trade something valuable for the excess pearls they harvested today.
Besides, gold was a shallow gift, easily given, easily forgotten. It felt unworthy, insignificant in the face of Aso's bravery. A life saved could not be repaid with a handful of metal. No, this debt demanded something far greater.
Land, however, was a gift that could anchor a man, to a place, to a people. It carried weight, but it was still a transactional reward, not a true repayment. If he granted Aso land, it would come with expectations, tribute, duty, a place within the village.
But the greater question remained: what would happen to the land if Aso chose to leave? If we found his people and returned him to them, what then?
And slaves… A man of status owned slaves, it was a mark of wealth, power, and responsibility. Offering Aso slaves would be a fitting reward, a sign of trust and recognition. But it also raised troubling questions.
Would Aso accept them? And if he ever chose to leave, would he take them with him? Would they follow him in loyalty, abandoning their village to serve a man whose true allegiance was still unknown?
Because that was the deeper concern, wasn't it? Aso was an outsider. He might seem useful now. What if he returned to whatever tribe had once claimed him?
Dumaalon did not like the thought of arming another man's ally, of strengthening a stranger who, one day, might no longer call them his people.
Kalawti's voice cut through Dumaalon's thoughts.
"The spirits have finally spoken about him," she said. "They say he bears no ill will toward us. There is no malice in his heart."
She paused, her gaze distant as if still listening to something beyond the hut's walls. "But they also say… he is lost. Not just in body, but in spirit. Like a child led astray, caught in the tricks of a tikbalang, wandering without knowing the way home."
Dumaalon's brow furrowed. "Tikbalang? Are you saying he's cursed by a nature spirit?"
Kalawti shook her head. "No, no. The spirits sense no curse upon him. There is no tikbalang leading him astray." She paused, thoughtful. "He is simply… lost. Lost in the way that some men are, without roots, without a path."
At least now I know what to give him.
What better reward for a lost man than land? A place to stand, to belong, a foundation upon which he could build a future, should he choose to stay.
And if he chooses to leave? Then I could only hope to gather enough gold or valuables to buy the land back from him.