Part 2: The Second Barrage

Creed

The night sky sparkled with stars, and the crescent moon shown unhindered. It was already a little past one in the morning, lights coming from inside houses were rare and people outside even rarer. A dog howled, an answering bark came a little further away. A bat flew overhead, and a rat scampered out of its hiding place to scavenge amongst the pile of garbage in a street corner. The nearby shopping mall had been closed for hours, and the last kuligligs and tricycles in the vicinity have sleeping people in them.

The place was asleep, except for a few drunks who were almost all have fallen asleep. Heavy footsteps were heard, as if a horse went hurriedly by, accompanied by a loud sniffing. A lone drunk who saw the tall, equine-like man, thought he saw an illusion. He drank the beer dregs in the bottle in his hand, and promptly collapsed face-down on the table. It was met with guffaws and shouts from his companions.

The apparition, a creature of myth, stopped in his tracks. His ears pricked up, eyes bright and searching. He sniffed again, and smiled. He slowly made its way towards an alley-like street. His crimson eyes shone brightly in the dark, his hooves making no noise on the cemented road.

“What do you want?” Samantha Marasigan asked. She was sitting on a round-backed monobloc chair outside, clutching her knees and looking up towards the night sky. She had her back to the creature, and yet she had sensed his arrival. She wore knee-length shorts, and a baggy t-shirt with a comical cartoon on it. Her black hair was untied, it was dancing to the rhythm of the cool night breeze. The right sleeve of her shirt also waved to the breeze, revealing tattoos on the middle of her upper arm.

“What do you want?” she asked again, not facing the creature.

“I have come to take you back,” he said, his voice like deep drums, yet soft as a caress.

Sam sighed, she stretched her body and stifled a yawn. “It’s getting late, you need to go home,” she said. She stood up and was about to go when the creature spoke.

“I cannot go back home,” he said.

She faced the creature for the first time, sweat making trails along his steaming shanks. They stood face to face, the creature’s breath smelled strongly of tobacco. She stared at his equine face; a scar on his left eye glowed faintly bluish in the shadows. He was carrying the standard weaponry of his kind: a bow, with various feathers tied to it; a quiver full of arrows; and a small dagger stuck in his belt. In addition, two kali sticks were on his back, red ribbons tied on their ends.

“I like it when you are angry,” he said, wiping sweat from his shank with his tail. She ignored him, continuing to stare at him.

“What do you want from me, Mailap?” Sam asked, her arms crossed in front of her chest.

“Your mother misses you, she had been asking me to fetch you.”

At the mention of her mother, memories both good and bad immediately invaded her mind. Sam turned around, her eyes brimming and her nose runny. She sniffed, which the creature heard and caused a whinny. She wiped her eyes with her arm and faced him again.

“Tell my mother, I would come back as soon as possible,” she said, and then turned away.

“She wants you back now,” Mailap said, his face still hidden in the shadows. A lamp post flickered behind it, and the creature shifted from hoof to hoof. “I told you, I cannot go back unless you come with me.”

“You need to go back now,” Sam said firmly. “My roommate might come out and ask questions. I do not want that to happen to her.”

Mailap watched her open the gate of one of the houses lining the dead end street. He snorted, white breath floating around it. “Your mother had ordered me to take you now. I even have your kali sticks with me, your mother said they will convince you to come back.” Sam ignored the creature, and went inside the house.

Mailap was anything but emotional. Growing up in the herds of Tandang Birit, he was considered to be malas, unlucky. They often shunned him, because of the circumstances when he was born. He almost did not make it, but the goddess of far-off Makiling had breathed life into his inactive lungs. His mother, the last of Tandang Birit’s wives, died giving birth to him, and he bore it all the days of his existence. He was her only child. He grew to be analytical, meticulous, and alone, often reading the annals of the herd and the exploits of his father and brothers. He was the greatest hunter in their herd next to Tandang Birit, but he could never brag about this.

Tandang Birit would say, “All you did was doing as I told, and you were successful.”

It would go on like this for many moons, and he would be teased by his siblings for being always shy and not joining in the community. When Mailap was already thirteen moons old, he was sent by Tandang Birit to serve Dian Masalanta. “Go to Makiling, and do whatever Dian Masalanta bids you to do.”

“Why, Tatang?” he had asked.

His father hit him with the back of his large hand. “Do not question me, Mailap. Just go to Makiling. And never come back here.”

Mailap had left the herd’s lands with a heavy heart, although leaving all the prosecutions and ostracism behind put a spring to his steps. He was on an adventure, crossing many mountains, valleys, rivers, plains, and even other herdlands. He encountered the mischievous encanto, the lovely diwata, and even the annoying nuno. He hunted in the lush jungles for food, and drank from the clear waters of springs and brooks. Once, he encountered a race alien to him. They looked like diwata, but for the lack of glowing aura about them. They were mostly wearing stripped bark as loincloths, and carried stone weapons. They also used fire, something the gods had given the inhabitants of the land. He made sure he was not seen by them, and silently slipped away in the middle of the night.

He made it to Makiling within the fifth night since he left his father’s domains. He cautiously climbed the mountain, his gear and weapons close at hand. He felt someone watching him, it was annoying him to no end. It was especially irritating, because whenever he stumbled over wet stones and upturned roots, he felt that the presence was laughing even if he never heard anything but the rustling wind and birdcalls.

He came to a small nipa hut in a clearing three days after coming to the mountain, and he approached it cautiously. Its windows were covered, and it did not sit well with Mailap that the presence was still watching him. He drew his dagger out with his right hand, his bow held tightly in his left. He sniffed the air, it smelled of tree-saps, wet earth, and of sweet rain. His ears were alert, hearing nothing but birdcalls and the whistling wind. With his body hunched over, he carefully went near the hut. It just stood there, as if defying him to enter the dwelling. He entered the hut, his hooves slightly making a creak on the wooden steps. What he saw inside was unbelievable.

Mailap is not easily surprised, and whenever that happened it was caused by something incredible. When he entered the hut, his jaw fell open and his eyes went wide. The inside was majestic, everything gleamed inside. The inside was illuminated by some kind of light, from where Mailap does not know. A hall stretched before him with a high ceiling, at its end was a raised dais with a wooden divan swathed in purple. It was empty, the occupant nowhere to be seen. The wooden walls were decorated with purple cloths with a silvery sigil that was unknown to Mailap, its ends almost touching the wooden floors. On the wall posts were hung golden shields with purple circles and the same silver sigil. At either side of him were staircases towards the second floor, the banisters were carved with small images of diwata, nuno, and encanto. He shook himself from his daze and walked inside, his dagger gripped tightly.

He turned his back and saw for the first time the elaborate tikbalang carvings on the doorposts; on top of the door was a purple circle with the silver sigil. He turned back to the dais, there was a young girl standing beside the divan. She seems to be about fourteen years old, with brown skin, long dark hair, wide and intelligent eyes, and a large earring on her left ear. She was wearing an opened sleeveless baro, a malong, and two kali sticks tied with red ribbons were at her back. Her hair was kept from her face by a purple cloth, on which was the silver sigil. Her feet were bare but clean, and tattoos occupied half of her right upper arm. He narrowed his eyes when he heard her laugh, a tinkling of tiny bells. He had heard this laughter before.

“Who are you?” he asked, his dagger poised in front of him.

The girl laughed again, and said, “It is I that should be asking that question.”

He moved in carefully, his eyes never leaving the girl.

“Be careful where you tread, tikbalang, you are dirtying my mother’s floor,” the girl said calmly.

Mailap stopped, his eyes scanning around his surroundings. The girl laughed again, and she watched him from her place beside the divan. Mailap was aware of someone watching him other than the girl, and it was unnerving. Suddenly, a voice boomed inside the hall.

“Who are you?” it asked.

“She is asking you, tikbalang,” the girl said, a smile on her face.

Mailap hesitated, he looked around the hall.

“Go on,” the girl encouraged. “Make yourself known, tikbalang.”

“I am Mailap, youngest of Tandang Birit’s children. I was sent here to serve the Lady of the mountain, Dian Masalanta,” he answered the voice.

“Sit down,” a woman said to him, the voice like a soft breeze.

Mailap looked up and saw for the first time the goddess, Dian Masalanta. She was reclining on the divan, wearing purple and silver malong and tapis, with a closed baro and many bangles on her wrists and ankles. Her hair was untied, and it fell like cascading waterfalls. On her ears were large earrings, and Mailap knew that the goddess was the child’s mother. He wondered how his life would be after that encounter.

She motioned for him to come near, which was really awkward for him since she had said to him to sit down. He came nearer, his dagger now safely tucked in its small scabbard in his belt, his bow now strung on his back. He bowed low when he came at the foot of the raised dais, his nose touching the wooden floor. The floor was smooth, like the surface of a still pond.

“Why have you come, son of Birit?” she asked, her daughter eyeing him.

“I have come to serve you, my lady. My father had no use for me in our herdlands, and since my brothers had all proved themselves to be worthy of staying with our father, I was sent here.”

“I have one task alone to give to you, Mailap,” the goddess said. “It is to protect my daughter from the human tribes living at the foot of the mountain.”

She gestured for the girl to come forward. “I see that you have amused yourself with the young colt, Maya. He shall be your guardian from now, and he will be doing my bidding to protect you always.”

“I have no use for him, Mother,” the girl said, twirling a lock of her hair between her fingers.

“Well, I do. Your father had just died from fighting the Datu of Maynila; let his soul be assured of your safety.”

“But, Mother I―”

“Maya Alapaap, that is enough,” the goddess said, her voice became rumbling thunder. The light inside the hall seem to dim, and the young tikbalang shivered. “Mailap would always be by your side, no matter what happens. If ever you would venture out into the world of men, he would always be by your side.”

Maya eyed him, watching his reactions to what her mother was saying. It was the will of the goddess, and even if she was the daughter, she may not break it. Mailap stood in front of the girl, every muscle tense. Maya clicked her tongue, bowed to her mother, and then went outside. The goddess nodded at him, so he followed her out. And it was raining.

As he crouched above the roof of the adjacent building, Mailap watched as Sam turned on the desk lamp in her room. Her face was buried in a handkerchief, her shoulders shaking. The wind rustled the leaves of the nearby trees, above, the stars twinkled and the moon shone. Mailap watched her for a while, until she stood up and turned off the lamp.

“You will come back with me, Maya,” he whispered, before running off. The faint sounds of hooves on asphalt, the waning cheers of drunkards, and the distant howling of dogs broke the silent night.