Apo Mina stood frozen, her breath hitching. Even Mary and Cain were speechless. For a second, Apo Mina’s gaze darted to the floor, her face slick with sudden sweat as she saw the jagged piece of glass. While Sugat was frantic, checking Hiraya’s pulse, Apo Mina moved. With a quick, practiced motion, she snatched the glass and buried it deep in her pocket.
“You must lay her down,” Mary said, finally breaking the silence. Her voice was soft, but her eyes flickered toward Apo Mina.
Apo Mina wiped her brow, her hand still trembling. “O-okay. Take them to the other hut. Cain, help them.”
Cain led the way, kicking open the door to a nearby shack. Sugat followed, carrying Hiraya like she was made of porcelain. He laid her on a creaky wooden bed, his fingers lingering on her hand. He didn’t let go.
“We’re sorry for the trouble,” Sugat whispered, staring at Hiraya’s pale face.
Mary placed a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry. Maybe she’s just tired from the road.” She gave him a warm smile, but it didn't reach her eyes.
“Thanks,” Sugat said, looking up. “.. you're kind.”
Cain gestured for Mary to leave. “Rest now. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
Inside the darkness of her mind, thunder roared.
Hiraya was kneeling on the ground, surrounded by glowing sigils that burned like white-hot iron. Her back was on fire. She was screaming, but no sound came out.
In the corner of her eye, she saw a girl. Just a silhouette. She couldn't see a face, only the brilliant glow of a pendant hanging from the girl’s neck. Then, the fire vanished. The ground turned into a thick, red liquid—grease and blood. Hiraya panicked, clawing at a piece of rotten wood to keep from drowning in the gore.
She looked for the girl again. Gone.
A cold shiver raced down her spine. A whisper crawled into her ear from behind.
“UNDER.”
Hiraya spun around. A girl with short hair and a face shredded by gore stood inches away. Her mouth opened in a silent, jagged scream that looked ready to burst her throat.
“LEAVE!”
Hiraya’s eyes snapped open.
She sat up, gasping for air. The room was a wreck—dust motes dancing in the sunlight that leaked through the holes in the palm-leaf roof. Her head throbbed.
“What happened?” she muttered. The nightmare was already tattering, slipping away like smoke. She stood up, her legs wobbly, and walked out of the hut.
“Sugat?”
Silence. She walked past rows of collapsing houses, the wood gray and brittle. “Where is that guy?”
Shclick.
The sound of metal on stone. Hiraya followed it to the edge of the village. There, sitting on a stump, was Gimo. He was carefully sharpening his Balisong, the blade catching the morning sun.
If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
Hiraya’s heart hammered. She didn't hesitate. She summoned her strength, and her grimoire materialized in a flash of light.
“Where is Sugat?!” she demanded, her voice sharp as a razor.
Gimo stood up, his blade held low at his side. He didn't speak. He just watched her through the eye-holes of his mask.
A hand touched Hiraya’s shoulder. She jumped, spinning around to find Apo Mina standing right behind her. She hadn't heard a single footstep.
“Be calm, iha,” Apo Mina said, holding a bundle of firewood. “Sugat is with Cain. They went to the mountain to fetch clean water.”
Hiraya lowered her book, her chest still heaving. “A-Apo Mina.”
Apo Mina looked at Gimo. “Gimo is silent. A bit strange, yes. But he is not a threat.” She began to pick up a few branches she had dropped.
Hiraya felt a pang of guilt. She quickly dissolved her book and helped the old woman gather the wood. “I’m sorry,” she murmured.
Apo Mina stretched her back. “I know you’re hungry. Come. I’ll cook some potatoes.”
Hiraya nodded and followed, but as they walked away, she glanced back at Gimo one last time. He was still standing there, watching them.
Up on the mountain, the air was thinner. Sugat carried a heavy wooden jar, following Cain toward the river. Cain still wore his wooden mask, his movements efficient as he dipped a container into the flowing water.
“It’s a long way just for water,” Sugat said, wiping sweat from his face.
“The water in the village isn’t usable,” Cain replied. “Contaminated.”
As Sugat poured water into the main container, a splash hit his sandals. Cain stopped. He looked down at Sugat’s feet. The sun was high, but there was no dark shape on the ground.
“Is it a burden?” Cain asked. “Having no shadow?”
Sugat’s heart sank. He looked away.
Cain noticed. He reached into his sleeve, pulled out a piece of hard bread, and tossed it. Sugat caught it by instinct.
“Eat,” Cain said. “You’ve been walking a long time. You must be starving.”
A small, shaky smile touched Sugat’s lips. A tear pricked his eye, but he turned away before Cain could see it. He took a bite of the bread. It was the best thing he had ever tasted.
Back in the village, Hiraya couldn't hide her sadness as she looked at the ruins.
“How did you end up here?” Apo Mina asked, stopping in her tracks. “The City is much more convenient than this graveyard.”
Hiraya broke into a sweat. She couldn't meet the old woman's eyes. “I... uhm...”
Apo Mina chuckled softly. “It’s fine. Secrets keep us alive. I shouldn't have asked.”
Hiraya tried to change the subject, pointing to a large, elegant house at the end of the path. It was different from the others—built with carved wood, standing next to a massive, ancient tree. “Look at that one. It must have been beautiful.”
“That belonged to the Land Owner,” Apo Mina said. “He was a good leader.”
“I wonder what it looked like before... the wreck,” Hiraya whispered.
“Want to look inside?”
Hiraya nodded.
They stepped through the doorway. Inside, the elegance was still visible beneath the decay. It felt modern, almost regal. Hiraya’s hand brushed against a dusty frame on a side table. It was a family portrait—smiling faces, clean clothes.
“That’s him and his family,” Apo Mina said, her voice dropping.
They walked further in, stopping before a massive painting of the old village. It was a paradise—green fields, happy people, a thriving community. Even with the cracked glass, the beauty was undeniable.
“Every time I see this house,” Apo Mina added, “I feel joy... and then, a deep sadness.”
Hiraya stared at the painting. It looked nothing like the gray, rotting place she was standing in now.
At the river, the silence was heavy. Cain sat on a rock, watching the water. “I can sense how hard things are for you, kid,” he said. “My family... we’ve had our hard times too.”
Sugat looked at him, curious.
Cain stood up abruptly and set the water jug aside. He gestured for Sugat to follow him. “Come on. I’ve got something to show you.”
They pushed through a thicket of overgrown branches at the river's end. When they cleared the brush, Sugat stopped, his stomach turning.
It was a massive dumpsite. Giant holes had been gouged into the earth, filled with mountains of garbage that looked years old. The stench was overwhelming—the smell of rot, chemicals, and death. Sugat nearly vomited as he saw animal skeletons and black, oily water seeping into the soil.
Back in the village, Apo Mina’s fingers brushed the glass of the old painting.
“The King forced the owners to give up this land,” she said, her eyes filling with a cold, sharp anger. “They mined the ground. They took every scrap of gold they could find.”
Hiraya’s grip tightened on the edge of the table.
“And once they took what they wanted,” Apo Mina hissed, “they turned our home into the dumpsite for the Cities.”
Sugat stood at the edge of the trash pits, and Hiraya stood in the ruins of a stolen paradise. Both felt a weight settle in their chests—a heavy, burning realization.
The Kingdom didn't just leave this place to rot. They murdered it.
[END OF CHAPTER 13]
-
Iha: (Tagalog) A term of endearment or respect used by elders when addressing a younger girl or woman. It is the shortened version of the Spanish word hija (daughter). In the story, it signifies Apo Mina’s grandmotherly but weary tone toward Hiraya.