CHAPTER 2: ANCIENT MARKS
The golden mark on Lia's hand didn't fade overnight. By dawn, it had settled into a faint amber swirl, warm to the touch even through the fabric of her sleeve. She'd spent the rest of the night in her childhood home—now empty save for dust-covered furniture and her mother's old weaving tools—staring at her palm and replaying the river's glow in her mind.
At six o'clock sharp, she pulled up to the Butuan National Museum, its concrete facade weathered by years of tropical rain. Mang Kiko was already waiting by the side entrance, a woven basket tucked under his arm.
"You came," he said, leading her through a narrow door into the museum's storage wing. "I wasn't sure you would."
"How could I stay away?" Lia gestured to her hand. "This isn't something I can ignore."
The storage room was stacked high with wooden crates and glass display cases filled with pottery shards, stone tools, and gold ornaments. Mang Kiko stopped before a locked cabinet in the back corner, producing a key from his pocket. When he swung the doors open, Lia's breath caught.
Inside lay a collection of ancient gold pieces—pendants, rings, and intricate filigree work—all shaped with wave patterns identical to the mark on her hand.
"These were found in a cave near the mountains twenty years ago," Mang Kiko explained, carefully lifting a small golden medallion. "The archaeologists at the time thought they were just decorative. They didn't know what they meant."
He held the medallion up to the morning light streaming through a high window. It caught the beam and cast a glowing amber pattern across the wall—exactly like the light in the river.
"According to the old stories, the Rajah's daughter wore a set of these when she made her promise to the river," he continued. "She was the first keeper, chosen because she could hear the water's voice. The mark on your hand means you're part of her line."
Lia stepped closer, tracing the wave pattern on one of the pieces with her finger. The moment her skin touched the gold, a vision flashed through her mind—she saw a young woman standing on the riverbank, wearing a crown of palm leaves, speaking words she couldn't understand as a golden boat rose from the water.
"I… I saw her," Lia whispered. "The Rajah's daughter."
Mang Kiko nodded slowly. "The blood remembers what the mind has forgotten. Now you need to understand why the river has called you now."
He reached into his basket and pulled out a folded piece of bark cloth, unfolding it to reveal a map drawn in what looked like crushed river stones and plant dye. It showed the Agusan River winding through Butuan, with small symbols marking caves, old settlements, and a single X deep in the mountains.
"Here," he pointed to the X, "is where the boat's heart is hidden. The treasure isn't gold or jewels—it's a source of life that keeps the land and water in balance. But there are others who think it can be used as a weapon."
Footsteps echoed in the hallway outside the storage room. Heavy boots, moving quickly.
"They've tracked us," Mang Kiko said, his voice low and urgent. "Take the map. Go to the village of Masao first—there's someone there who can help you. The river will guide your way, but you have to move fast."
He pushed the bark cloth into her hands just as the door burst open. A man in dark clothing stood in the doorway, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on the golden pieces in the cabinet—and on Lia's hand.
"So the legend is true," he said, a cold smile spreading across his face. "The keeper has returned."
Lia grabbed the medallion from the cabinet and ducked past him, racing through the storage room toward a window at the back. She heard Mang Kiko call out as she climbed through, landing hard on the grass outside. The man was already chasing her, shouting orders to someone else in the hallway.
Lia sprinted to her jeepney, cramming the map and medallion into her bag. As she started the engine, she glanced back at the museum—and saw the golden light from the cabinet spilling out into the hallway, pulsing in time with the mark on her hand.
The race had truly begun.
To BE CONTINUE!....