What The Fireleaves Danced

"A slew of races live alongside humanity, even if humanity has been the dominant mortalfolk in the Sanlibutan. For example, right underneath the very ground we tread exists the subterranean kingdom of LIbing-Libig, which belongs to the duwende. So be very careful if you see a mound--pay your respects and excuse yourself. Whatever you do, do not step on that mound."

- Guro Sadya, 560th Year of the Masked Moon

Soon, Dimalanta and Manag were with Amiha and Panan-aw. Dimalanta's markings were still covered by his karabaw hide armor, but he certainly felt a certain heft to his swings now. He was still recovering, that was for sure.

* * *

"What does this mark benefit me?" He had asked Maranan before they left her kubo. "And what are the Tinatakan Warriors?"

"Well," she said, "Like I've said, you've been inducted into the Tinatakan. I'm sure you've found that the art of tattooing isn't something inherently special to the Tintakan Warriors, and you will be right. It is not. In fact, it is something almost every clan or tribe or barangay in Lakungdula practices."

"I know that fully well," said Dimalanta.

"Indeed. But us Tinatakan Warriors… well we're not so much an order as we are bound together by the touch of the diwata, By the Apo Yna Guinida-"

"Goddess of War."

"And Makanduk. God of Raiding. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is there is no strict hierarchy or order among the Tinatakan Warriors. We simply exist alongside each other, for some purpose none of us can fully understand. That is, maybe we understood it before… but in these modern times, we understand it a lot less. It deals, somehow, with protecting the land."

Dimalanta had stared down at his b.a.r.e c.h.e.s.t, now covered with sharp tattoos that resembled a serpent swallowing the sun. It was as if he had an armor of his own. He then slipped the karabaw hide armor on. "You will find that the tattoos will protect you a bit better, especially against dangerous, ethereal attacks from things beyond mortal ken. Oh yes, the Mark of Sealing is also a mark -- which is, in honesty, not limited to just us Tinatakan, but other tribes that practice tattooing -- that lets you keep in Bala, so that when you are killed, your Bala will not transfer to the killer unless you will it so, or they have sorceries that allow them to. It will also keep that strange, dark spirit within you for longer, yet I do not know how long it might last. You may want an experienced babaylan to take a look at that."

Dimalanta was ready, standing right at the border of the barangay now. He held a shield and a spear at ready, unsheathed, ready to parry and blow back. Beside him, Manang in her beautiful visage, with that light brown hair and young body. She had those five agimat arrayed about her neck like orbiting spheres, ready for whatever spell or incantation or hex she would think of. Strung across her c.h.e.s.t was a banana leaf sashs that was loose enough to work as a satchel, and on those were various ingredients and components for her witchery.

Panan-aw, covered in head to toe with tattoos — albeit not Tinatakan — he wore a loincloth wrapped around his body, freeing his legs for movement, and a cloak tied around his neck. His tattoos were the only armor and clothing he needed, it seemed. Strung across his back was a bow made of narrawood, and he carried with him a wide wooden cylinder that held more than thirty arrows. He still had a kris hanging from a waistcord should he need it.

The woman, Amiha, wore something similar to what she had worn the day before. She also had tattoos, albeit they were only visible on her shoulders. Her hair was tied up into a small, yet complicated knot above her head, unobstructing her vision. Two kris hung from her waistcord, and she wore a wrap around her waist along with a shirt that both showcased the geometric and colorful okir patterns.

"The four of you," said Datu Bangisan. "May Yna Guinida guide you well on your journey, May Ama-ni-Kable guide the flight of your arrows, and the sharpness of your scent, and may the anito guide you in vanquishing the beast that disrupts out peace. May Bathala, God of the Sky, watch over you."

The four of them all bowed their heads as the Datu blessed them, and Dimalanta could feel a surge of power, the power of prayer and invocations of the most powerful diwata in the world. As the Datu finished his prayers, Dimalanta added, in mutterings only he could hear: "May Bu-an guide me home." Which he repeated thrice.

"I hope you will be safe, daughter, my princess," said the Datu, as he reached out a hand to Amiha. The girl strode forward and hugged her father once, without words, and then turned around.

"Let us not burn daylight," said the girl, and Panan-aw followed after her wake, walking up the stone stairs carved into the cliff. Dimalanta looked at Manang, and Manang smirked at him.

"It is the earliest of dawn," said Dimalanta, an incredulous look on his face.

"Let the girl be," said Manang, and she strode after the two youths.

Dimalanta turned to the Datu. "We will guide your children home safe."

"I will be counting on that, warrior."

Datu Bangisan stared longer at Dimalanta, and then said, "Tinatakan Warrior."

Dimalanta nodded, and without another word, strode off to follow after the three of them.

The four of them trekked through the same path the tamawo peoples had led them through, before Panan-aw pointed to an area in the brambles less dense than the others. Dimalanta could see a rather small pathway going through it. "Someone had blazed this path before?"

"Yes," said Panan-aw. He removed the bow from his back and pulled out an arrow from his wooden cylinder. Amiha pulled out a kris as well. Manang furrowed her eyebrow; she looked at Dimalanta, who shrugged and held his shield and spear close to him as he followed along the path.

They walked a tight line. On both sides, they could hear the loud grating sounds of bloodflies flitting to and fro, a boar groaning as it foraged for food, a tiger, somewhere, growling low. Panan-aw had still taken point, but he was walking much slower now.

Dimalanta took it upon himself. "Panan-aw," said he. "I will take point. I have the shield and spear. Stay behind me."

Panan-aw paused at that, and then he turned to Amiha, who Dimalanta saw very faintly nodded her head. Panan-aw sighed. "Very well, Sandata. Follow the trail, and I will tell you where to go. Watch your footing."

Dimalanta nodded and he switched places with the young boy. "How long will the travel be?"

"The bannog's lair is within a cave in a mountain, not far from here. It will take us mostly until the moon rises."

"An entire day's worth of travel, huh?"

"I have brought provisions. Do not worry."

With their marching order firmly established, he strode forward at a quicker pace. With the sharp blade of his spear he hacked away vines that had fallen in the way, and large leaves that blocked their vision. "You are the barangay's binokot, are you not?" He heard Manang behind him.

He glanced over his shoulder and saw that Panan-aw stayed close behind him, while Manang stayed in the far back, behind Amiha.

"Yes," said Amiha. "Although as you can see, I am no ordinary binokot."

"Indeed. One could say you are not a binokot at all."

"Indeed," said Amiha.

"Did your father not get angry when you became as you are?"

Amiha shook her head. "My elder sister, Bilin, has made sure there is someone that succeeds mother as the barangay anitowan."

"Ah," Manang nodded. "Bilin…"

"You have not seen Bilin before. Nobody has seen Bilin before, save for me."

"No doubt she is beautiful."

"It is said that the Goddess Hiyas has blessed her with the beauty of a diwata. Her skin is as pale as neversnow. Her hair as brown as the cleanest of muds. Her eyes gleaming like the Sun behind the clouds."

"What contradictions you spout, girl."

"She is a contradiction in herself."

Manang scoffed. "And she is to replace your mother?"

"Indeed," she said. "She has already begun her training into becoming the anitowan. Soon, once she is a full-fledged anitowan, she will replace my mother as the barangay anitowan."

"Speaking of your mother," said Manang. "I would've thought she would've been in the feast last night. She is an anitowan after all. It was your father, the Datu, who blessed the food. Why is this so?"

The girl was silent for a few heartbeats. In the intervening silence, a cough from Panan-aw, the shrill shrieking of a flying dragon, a tree falling down, a roar of a tiger and then the dying squeals of a deer.

"She is ill."

More silence.

Panan-aw spoke, "You don't have to, binokot,"

"She is the main reason why I am going to Pinagsama. I want to find an albularyo powerful enough to reverse her illness. I do not want her gone…" Her voice weakened.

"And the river is only part of your worries?"

"The river being stagnant is the worry first and foremost of the Pinagsama peoples," said Amiha, her voice rising a little, but Dimalanta could tell that she was containing it and controlling it. "They will be able to handle it. My going there is simply an excuse. I want an albularyo to heal her."

Manang was quiet for a while. Dimalanta could not find anything to say.

"And you think Pinagsama will have the albularyo you need?"

"Yes!" retorted Amiha. "They have to. They have to."

"What is her illness, child?" Dimalanta was surprised that this came out of his mouth.

Amiha turned around to look at the man that led them. "We do not know. She cannot speak to the anito anymore. It is as if the diwata had left her. It was as if she had been hexed. Inflicted with kulam. Witchcraft."

"Maybe she has been," said Manang. "I… I know of someone that might know of some things."

Amiha inhaled. "You… you do?"

Manang looked up at Dimalanta, and Dimalanta met her eyes. Then his eyes widened, and he cursed as he fell back away from a mound that he had accidentally stepped on.

"Ey!" a voice resonated from within. Black hands sprouted from the mound, and soon three black duwende had popped up from the mound and encircled it. "What's going on, what's going on? What kind of dumbf.u.c.k would step on our mound like that? It was you, wasn't it?" He pointed at Dimalanta.

"Yeah it was him boss!"

"Yeah I knew it was you!" said the "boss", one who held a kris. "Damn you to Sulad, brother. How would you like it if someone stepped on the roof of your house, eh?" The eyes of the black duwende were pits of murky black, but somehow Dimalanta could see the duwende giving Amiha a sidewards glance.

Dimalanta knew it wouldn't be long before they were faced with their first challenge.

"Now now," said the duwende, squat and black eyes and all. He brandished the kris that to him was the size of two handed great swords. "We don't mean any harm. All we need you to do is give us the pretty little princess girl, and we'll be happy. All this transgression of stepping on our mound will be forgotten, and we will let you off the hook. No cursing your entire family, you entire barangay."

Amiha recoiled in disgust. Dimalanta had seen this type of duwende before.

Their smiles were just like their eyes: hollow. Dimalanta turned to Panan-aw, who had the most massive scowl on his face. A rage so unsolicited that Dimalanta could almost feel the boy's feelings for the girl.

"Come on. Just the girl. You guys seem like some upstart good boys?"

From behind Dimalanta, Manang scoffed. "Boys?"

The leading duwende — the one with the kris, the two other duwende behind him held no weapons — turned to look at her, and his face contorted into an almost humorous shape that Dimalanta found absolutely hilarious. A mix of fear and disgust and attraction all at the same time. He shook his head. "Why, if it isn't a mangkukulam. Your dark witcheries are perfect for me. For my dark little heart."

"Excuse me?"

Dimalanta grimaced. Panan-aw and Amiha turned to Manang in surprise.

"Okay that's enough," said Dimalanta, frowning. "Duwende Itim, you are, yes?"

The duwende turned to him, still grinning. "Aye. But we're good citizens of the Kingdom. Don't be going around accusing us of evil. Especially when you be the ones stepping on our mounds!"

"Look," said Dimalanta. "I seek forgiveness. I was simply too distracted by the foliage to have seen your mound."

"Blah blah," said the duwende. He snapped his fingers, and shadows flitted out of the mound, darting towards the trees. "I've heard all of this before. I don't care. So, instead of us cursing your family, I'll just do something you might like better — kill you. Get 'em, boys!"

Rough rubies flew out of the trees, and caught fire as they made contact with Dimalanta's t.h.i.g.hs, which were exposed. Flame wrapped about him, and pain lit up the places where they hit. "Ah! Bu-an curse you."

"He already has!" laughed the duwende as he leapt up, kris in ready to swing.

And then an arrow was loosed — the sound distinct, like a gong of promise — and the arrow buried itself into the duwende's thick hide. With an "Oof!" the duwende was driven back, and the duwende without weapons brandished their claws.

Dimalanta cursed. More rubies from the trees; someone was shooting at them. From behind him, an arrow shot one of the rubies out of the air, but it narrowly missed the other one. The Tinatakan maharlika stepped forward, raised his shield, and batted away the ruby, which caught fire on the bushes to Dimalanta's left.

"Ah, Maykaptan damn you all!" shouted the head duwende, as three more duwende emerged from the mound, weaponless, other than their sheer tenacity, tough hide, and razor sharp claws. "Get 'em! To Sulad with all of you!"

Panan-aw was beside Dimalanta now. "I've practiced with duwende before," said Panan-aw.

"That is not something you would like to say to an engkanto's face."

"I know," said Panan-aw. Three duwende launched themselves at the two warriors. Panan-aw stepped back, nocked three arrows, and then launched them horizontally in one fluid motion. Two of the arrows hit home, knocking two duwende out of the air. The last one sailed toward the two of them, with wide, shit-eating grins. Dimalanta stepped forward, shield raised, and the duwende slammed against it. The maharlika's leg trembled at the impact, but he pushed the duwende back. More specifically, he pushed the duwende up, and his spear shot out, skewering the duwende in air.

"Boyot!" screamed the head duwende, as he jumped up on his mound, and then leapt up into the air once again, kris readied. Quickly, Panan-aw launched an arrow at the mid-air captain, only for it to be burnt up in mid-air by a launched ruby.

The captain shrieked as the kris fell down on Dimalanta, gashing his face. Grunting, Dimalanta turned and thrust his spear.

The blade of his spear almost bent against the thick hide of the duwende, and did not even penetrate his natural armor. The force was enough to push the duwende back, but the duwende flipped in mid-air, hitting the ground on all fours.

Two of his duwende henchmen shot forward.

There was a blur. A full head of hair. White garb wrapped around a slender figure completely sheathed in tattoos. Amiha stepped forward with her kris, and cut two of the duwende away. They bounced to both sides, landed on their hands, and then jumped again. With quickness, precision, and grace, Amiha ducked to dodge the duwende to her right, raised her shield arm to deflect the one on the left, and then raised her kris in a weaving motion.

The two duwende fell to the forest floor with large gashes across their c.h.e.s.ts. One of them had been gashed across the face, and a single black eye lolled out of the large skull. The eye was almost as big as the head of the duwende.

Two more rubies shot out of the trees. From behind Dimalanta, he heard Manang's youthful, almost raspy voice.

"Kalasag, kalasag!"

The rubies — both aimed at Amiha, bounced off of her as they neared her, as if there were some invisible force around her. As the rubies struck the ground, though, flames burst on their points of contact.

"Panan-aw!" shouted Amiha. "Do you see the slingers?"

"I do!" said the archer boy. He got down on one knee, and loosed one arrow towards one of the trees. There was a shriek, and then a small black figure fell to the ground.

Their head captain shrieked as he barreled into Amiha's c.h.e.s.t. Caught off-guard, the binokot grunted in surprise as she fell backwards…

…right into the mound.

"Amiha!" screamed Panan-aw, as the Princess and the Duwende disappeared into the overly small hole of the mound. As the hole gaped to let the both of them in though, Panan-aw was already on the mound, and he slipped through with them, into the Underground realm of the Duwende.