by AA Lee
When the priestesses started talking among themselves, Tala’s blood boiled at their lack of attention. She had worked hard for her exhibition. She wouldn’t let her efforts be reduced to nothing. She commanded the spear back into her hands. Her knuckles turned white around the dark weapon.
Spear, show them. Show them what you have seen and what you did thirteen years ago.
The spear shook in response.
The square faded before her eyes. The village shifted, transforming into different structures. Fires consumed the houses. People ran in all directions. Tala heard children crying, and she couldn’t determine which were now and which came from thirteen years ago. The priestesses stood and protected the children.
A warrior slick with blood aimed his arrow at a woman. The high priestess raised her staff to stop the man, but the arrow flew anyway, hitting the woman.
Priestess Mayumi tried to grab a child out of the warrior’s reach, but her hands went through the boy like he was nothing but air. “No!” she shouted as the boy ran away only to be impaled by an arrow. It didn’t take long before bodies were scattered everywhere. Blood soaked the dry earth.
“Stop,” Tala commanded.
The staff stilled in her hands. The village returned to its original state, but the priestesses and the villagers were still in chaos. When she bowed, the high priestess took her seat. Tala could see the old woman’s hands shaking.
“Have you gone mad? Did you think about how the villagers would react?” Priestess Hiwaga’s hands shook, and Tala didn’t know whether it was out of anger or fear.
Tala had no energy to defend herself. Her knees buckled, and if Nimfa hadn’t been there, she would’ve hit the ground from exhaustion. “There was no rule on what to present. I just showed my connection to the spear,” Tala managed to say in a weak voice.
“What kind of nonsense is that? You should think of other people too. There are children here. What you showed was brutal and cruel!” Priestess Mayumi shouted, her voice far from the sweet one she normally showed despite the number of villagers around.
Tala looked around at the frightened villagers. Priestess Mayumi was right. What she’d done was indeed foolish and could have injured the villagers. What if I get kicked out?
“Quiet!” The high priestess stood. “Let’s call the next performer.”
Malaya stepped into the center reluctantly. She tried to turn her wand into a snake, but it was lousier than what she’d shown in their practices. She failed to even make it move. Tala could see the girl was deeply shaken after seeing the illusion, and she ended her performance with tears in her eyes.
Chapter 22
Kisig
“Your daughter’s incredible! She looks like a warrior and a priestess at the same time.”
“Thank you for your compliment, Datu!” Head Warrior Bagsik put his right hand to his chest and bowed his head.
“I could tell she prepared well for this competition. If only she had joined last year, she could’ve helped us…” Kisig looked around, and even when he didn’t see anyone, he thought it would be best to pick his words carefully. “In our plans this year.”
“My daughter will be of great service to the village, Datu. Helping warriors is her dream, and I’m sure that, win or lose, she will assist us.”
“That’s good to hear. Anyway, why did you ask to see me?”
“Datu, did you see the… the illusion?” Head Warrior Bagsik shook his head as if still trying to erase what he’d seen.
“Yes. It seemed so real that my guards surrounded me.” Kisig’s heart raced. He felt as if talking about it might bring it back. “I was here in the meeting hall because I wanted to watch today’s trial. I stopped watching for a while and had just taken a seat here on stage when the warriors attacked. It took a while for us to realize it wasn’t real.”
“The thing is… it was real.”
“Was real?” Kisig jumped to his feet.
“Yes. Well… not real like it happened today. What you saw was when Daa attacked us thirteen years ago. It wasn’t a made-up battle. I remember it well because I was a new warrior then. It looked like the girl brought us back to that time.”
“That’s… I don’t know what to say.”
“Before I came to speak with you, I asked people who had been in different parts of the village during the trial. They all experienced the illusion. The girl showed it to the whole village. Some old people are still in a state of shock because it brought back their memories of the attack. Nobody knows how far the illusion reached.”
“The girl’s power is exceptional, then.”
“I agree with you, Datu. And… I have a proposal, if you don’t mind.” The head warrior waited for Kisig’s reply.
“Go on.”
“If the girl could do it again, I think we could use her to confuse the enemy in battle.”
“Don’t you think their magicians would know it wasn’t real?”
“I can’t guarantee it, but based on the priestesses’ reactions today, I think it would fluster the Daa magicians too. I hope they would fight the illusion warriors instead of our real ones. There is one problem though…”
“She needs more training?”
“No.” The head warrior looked away, trying to phrase his words with care. “Putting her on the front lines with her status is a bit… uh… will probably raise a lot of questions. Warriors are heroes in the eyes of the villagers.”
Kisig nodded. “I understand. It would be best to talk to the high priestess about this. I don’t want to waste the girl’s talent.”
Chapter 23
Tala
Diyosa gained the top spot in their second trial. While Tala ranked twentieth, due to the disagreement between the judges about the illusion she’d made, she gained respect from her fellow contenders. Diyosa acknowledged her as an equal and even practiced fighting with her during their independent study. Some priestesses, however, treated Tala worse after her spontaneous illusion horrified the villagers.
That week, she learned how to fight with her spear both in offense and defense. At first, she was sluggish and lost several times to Nimfa and Diyosa because her spear was too long and heavy. After a few days, she grew accustomed to its length and even won against the two girls a few times.
The third trial was all about destroying their opponents’ weapons. The girls returned to the square outside the meeting hall for the fight. The priestesses divided them into two groups: one group wrote their names on bamboo strips and put them in a box while the other group randomly picked the bamboo strips without looking to determine their opponent.
When it was Tala’s turn to pick a bamboo strip, she prayed that she would get Malaya or Diyosa to eliminate them. When the high priestess called Luntian’s name, she was a little disappointed.
The first fight was between Diyosa and a tall, graceful girl named Elma. The fight was over in a short time, and it was no surprise that Diyosa won. Malaya also won and walked around the square with a proud smile after the fight. Watching other pairs wasn’t so interesting for Tala, and she wished she could go somewhere else to rest and conserve her energy, but the priestesses had instructed them beforehand to stay near the square.
Some contenders got injured but none life-threateningly. As Tala had expected, the girls still had a hard time using their objects as weapons, except Diyosa. The crowd had thinned considerably after ten fights. The remaining people appeared to be just the family members of the contenders.
Tala’s heart pounded loudly when her name was called but not as wildly as the previous trial. She even managed to hold her head high as she walked to the center of the square. Nimfa lifted Tala’s spirits with vigorous clapping and chanting her name even when the villagers looked at Nimfa. Eventually, Diyosa joined, to Tala’s surprise.
Luntian held her white handkerchief by one end at the beginning of their fight. When she dropped it, it turned into an unnaturally large crow. Before Tala could move, it flew up to her face and dug its sharp claws in
to her skin. Her hand covered her closed eyes instinctually, and she felt warm blood against her fingers.
The crow flapped its wings low to the ground, sending a cloud of dust into Tala’s open mouth. Coughing uncontrollably, she opened her eyes to escape. Her eyes burned, and she wasn’t sure if it was from the dust or if they were wounded. Panic gripped her at the thought of losing her vision. Blood and tears rolled down her face.
She could only rely on her hearing, but it proved to be ineffective as the spectators fell into a crazed chanting for Luntian. Using her spear, she moved to her left to avoid the crow. She blinked again and found that her vision had cleared, but her tears continued falling. Her heart leapt with joy at being able to see, even though it was still blurry.
The crow flapped its wings, intending to blind her with more dust. Tala ran to her left to get a clear view. Putting her left foot forward, she turned her body slightly to the right to put force into throwing her spear.
Before the spear could leave her hand, the bird rose to the sky so high it disappeared. She chastised herself for underestimating Luntian. She’d only thought about Malaya and Diyosa and had forgotten that Luntian had come in second on the first challenge.
Tala raised her head and looked up at the sky, waiting for the crow to reappear. A sharp pain made her loosen her grip on her spear. The crow had attacked from behind and continued flying. Tala followed it with her eyes, but it didn’t stop before it disappeared again.
Tala’s left hand closed around her wounded right hand. The injury gave her no choice but to use her nondominant hand. Clenching her jaw in an attempt to dull the pain, she looked at Luntian. The girl’s mouth curved slightly upward to the right in a knowing smile.
Tala couldn’t wait for the crow to hit her again. The bird’s flight was quiet and swift, and she didn’t know which way it would come from. She thought of hitting the girl with her staff, but she reminded herself that the goal was to destroy her weapon, not her opponent.
“I would just surrender if I were you.” Luntian flashed a bigger smile, showing her perfect teeth.
“But I’m not you.” Tala closed her eyes. She didn’t know if it would work, but she needed to try.
She’d been on the defense since the fight had started. She wanted to change the game. Tala imagined where the crow would be. Her spear pulsed in response, but Tala could feel its hesitation. Bracing herself for the pain, she transferred the spear to her right hand, where the crow had clawed her.
“I trust you,” she whispered. She opened her palm. The spear flew upward at an impossible speed. Tala breathed deeply and exhaled as the spear came down, piercing the crow through its heart and hitting the ground headfirst.
Luntian held her hand out, but the crow didn’t come back to life. Instead, it turned back into her handkerchief with a hole in the middle. Tala pulled her spear out of the ground in one swift motion.
“Congratulations. I knew from the start that you would win.” Luntian offered her hand and looked into Tala’s bleeding face.
Tala was taken aback. She never expected the girl to be kind. She was one of those girls who had ignored Tala. Her mind raced to come up with a response. Luntian bent forward to grab Tala’s hand and shook it. Tala just stood there, mouth agape, as the high priestess pronounced her the winner.
Chapter 24
Kisig
Kisig pushed the wooden trap door up and out of the way. Most of the time, it was camouflaged with soil and stones to make it look like the rest of the floor. He placed the torch on the stone floor above, not bothering to put out the flame, and placed both hands on the floor to pull his body up.
“You have an interesting hideout, Datu.”
Kisig’s mouth hung open as Hagibis circled him. His body was still halfway out of the hole. He’d instructed his attendants and guards to keep anyone from entering his room. He couldn’t believe they’d disregarded his order.
“I think I specifically told you to tell me about your plans and secrets… and you know I don’t like it when you stab me in the back.”
Kisig sensed Hagibis stop right behind him. He swiftly raised his body out of the hole and faced Hagibis. “Not a hideout, Official. It’s just something I made as a means of escape in case of an attack.”
“Shall we see how effective your way of escape is?”
“It’s not done yet. I’m still digging.”
“I can see through you, Datu.” Hagibis stepped closer to the opening, but Kisig stopped him with his body. The official tried to push him aside, but Kisig was stronger. “You already know what happens when you defy me,” he hissed.
“It’s about time you let me rule as I please or took the lead yourself.”
Hagibis backhanded him. Kisig felt his cheeks flush with anger and pain. When Hagibis raised his hand again, Kisig caught it in midair.
“I’m done with your threats, Official. You know no one would follow you even if you tried to lead this village because you’re not a direct descendant of the Great Datu.”
“They will when you lose your head, boy. Don’t you dare challenge me.”
“Don’t you think other officials will suspect you first if I die? Do you think they’ll just happily hand over the village to you without fighting to have it for themselves? Or maybe you’re just angry because I sent your spying daughter back home.”
Hagibis was speechless for a moment, supporting Kisig’s suspicion that Ganda was indeed spying on him.
“So, you planned to deceive me all along, despite what I have done to help you. Did you think you could rule without me? I’ll show you how to execute a clever plan, and when that happens, you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.” Hagibis left the room and flung the door closed with a thud.
Kisig followed him out the door, his face red and his lips thin with rage. “Didn’t I tell you not to let anyone enter my room?”
His attendants and guards were gathered in the living room, their heads bowed.
“But, Datu… the official.”
Kisig landed a blow to the guard’s stomach, doubling him over. When Hagibis opened the main door to exit, Kisig understood why the guards and attendants had let Hagibis in. The door swung wide, allowing Kisig to see Hagibis’s personal guards, their spearheads shining against the sunlight.
Kisig’s guards and attendants didn’t know Nayon was preparing for war, yet he expected that they would lay their lives down to follow his orders. They had failed him simply because they were overpowered by Hagibis’s personal guards.
“All of you, line up! I cannot just let this go unpunished.”
The three guards on duty assembled, and the four attendants lined up behind them as they followed Kisig.
“Guards!” Kisig shouted after they were out of the house.
Bantay and the rest of the off-duty guards rushed out of their huts near Kisig’s house.
“These guards and attendants failed to follow orders and protect me as the datu. Each of them will be flogged twenty times.”
One of the attendants gasped then sniffed. Kisig turned, and as expected, it was Hinhin. Tears flowed down her face. The girl’s body was petite, and she already looked like she would break, but he couldn’t exempt her, or the rest would think he favored her.
Bantay signaled with his hand, and the rest of the guards surrounded those who were on duty. Kisig followed them to the prison. Outside was a square where punishments were normally dealt. In the center was a rectangular table about six feet long.
“Down,” Kisig barked at the first guard.
The guard lay face down without hesitation. Kisig grabbed the knotted abaca-rope whip and handed it to Bantay. The sound of the whip made him flinch. Red lines on the guard’s back stared up at him.
Slowly, he stepped back, doubting his decision to punish his people. Did I overreact?
But he couldn’t stop the punishment at that point. Crowds had gathered around the prison, and the last thing he wanted them to see was a weak and indecisive leader.
Kisig didn’t wait to the end. He wasn’t confident he could stand by his decision when it came time to punish the girls. He let Bantay finish, confident his head guard would carry it out properly. With heavy footsteps, he traced his way home with his head bowed. He looked like a father trying to hide his anguish after punishing his child.
“Go find Sagip,” he ordered Bantay’s second-in-command. “When you return, talk to Bantay about your new rotation because those guards won’t be able to work for a few days.”
“Yes, Datu.” The young guard put his right hand firmly to his heart. “Should I tell the healer to visit you?”
“No. Tell her to treat the punished guards and attendants and make sure they’re tended to properly.”
Chapter 25
Tala
“As I’ve said before, magic isn’t free,” the high priestess said on the first day of their third week, “or limitless. Today, you will have a deeper understanding of that principle.”
The priestesses taught them the healing song. Committing the ancient words to memory was the easiest part. Singing while healing someone was much more difficult, for when they healed, they had to pay by taking on the person’s pain. By the second day, all of them had memorized the song. The high priestess sent word all over the village to bring the sick into the shrine regardless of status.
Tala’s first patient was an emaciated toddler. Her head was largely disproportionate to her frail body, making Tala second-guess the girl’s age and doubt whether she would live for more than a month after the treatment. Tala could almost count her protruding ribs, and as she forced herself to continue looking, tears welled in her eyes. The child needed food, not healing.
“You can’t heal her?” the equally skeletal mother asked. She was oddly calm, like she wasn’t aware of how bad her baby looked. Perhaps she was already used to the sight.