What The Fireleaves Danced

"Incantations are popular amongst all of the Lakungdulan people. What must be known, however, is that such incantations are almost always supplications to the gods. Supplications to the Lord of the Forest to keep them safe. Or the Lord of the Mountains to keep them warm. Or the War God Triumvirate to offer up their killing in exchange for longer life."

-- Parawali Si Kabo, Seventh Scroll of the Lakungdulan People, 1033th Year of the Masked Moon

With the light of the ruby extinguished, the sole light source came somewhere from above, shining directly down onto the shallow of pool of water made by the cascading stream.

An unglok romped into view.

It was a full three heads taller than the maharlika, greater and stronger looking too, with nothing to cover his groin area but a large bag of fur. Its skin was of that deathly blue, a sickening color that reminded one of a bloated corpse. A gigantic mouth on its head, filled with sharp, bony teeth that resembled the stalactites and stalagmites of the cavern that they were in. In one hand it carried with him a large bone that seemed to have removed cleanly from a gigantic behemoth, and with one end sharpened to a wicked sharp tip. On the far side was a large pile of coconuts.

Dimalanta and Manang both had the same instinct to hide behind a tall stalagmite, and peer out as it did its thing. It romped around, and screamed, roaring screams that somehow screamed of loneliness. It poked the ground with its wicked sharp blade and made little markings on the floor, as if making art.

Then it stopped.

Dimalanta inhaled sharply and held that breath. He turned to the mangkukulam.

The mangkukulam closed her eyes, and then whispered something into her hands. With that done, she inhaled the words, and then blew them out towards Dimalanta.

A moment passed, before Manang's whispering words could be heard. "It has heard us."

Dimalanta turned around to peer past the stalagmites and saw the large, lumbering unglok walking over to where they hid. Its eyes were a pitch black, similar to the eyes of the duwende itim, and as it moved its belly moved in sloshing motions. It hefted the gigantic bone — which was almost as tall as he was — over his shoulder.

The maharlika hid behind the stalagmites once again, and turned to look at the mangkukulam.

The mangkukulam was already on the move, going out from her cover and down a certain part of the steep slope that was level enough to be able to be walked on.

Dimalanta almost yelled out a command, but stopped himself. Spear and shield still in hand, he turned and stared at the lumbering unglok, as it stopped and turned to look at the fleeting shadow that was Manang.

As the unglok turned away from him, he gripped his spear. Should he? Or is Manang simply trying to escape through a different hole? Why didn't she confer with him beforehand?

A frustrated sound escaped Dimalanta's lips as the unglok roared.

Little pit-pat footsteps slapped onto the shallow pool floor. The unglok raised its large bone, and threw it across the pool, over to where Manang's shadow flickered.

It struck hard rock, and water exploded everywhere. As Manang dove to recover the momentum from her dive, she pulled out a ruby, shook it, and then applied ash onto it.

Dimalanta cursed, and then: "May Kapalaran guide me."

He rose to his feet, immediately into a dash, right over to the lip of the steep slope. "Bu-an, Adlayari, Tala…"

With a gigantic surge of strength, Dimalanta leapt right at the end of the steep slope, and he sailed across the air, with his spear pointed down, aimed directly at the unglok's wide back. "...Makanduk, Yna Guinida, Barangaw..."

And his spear plunged through the thick hide of the unglok.

A deathly screech, a blood curdling roar, as the unglok shook off the the maharlika. Dimalanta managed to cling on just enough for him to find a safe spot to land on, and he leapt from the back. A slapping sound resonated from behind him — he presumed the unglok had tried to slap the area where he thought he was — and he fell onto the shallow pool, rolling.

He rose to his feet and he could feel perverted power surging through him. His arm bulged with monstrous muscles that were not his, as if some other beast broiled underneath him.

But he knew it would be enough.

The unglok turned to him, roared, and leapt toward him, both hands raised above its head, ready to bring down its two hammerhands.

And as he neared Dimalanta, the maharlika's right, bulging arm burst with black light, as if a corrupted answer to his blessed prayer.

Nevertheless, he finished the enchantment -- an enchantment he had learned from a tamawo, no less.

"...exult in the violence I bring."

And lance of black, coruscating energy erupted from his arm as he thrust his spear toward the unglok. The black spear of pure convalescing diwa impaled the unglok in mid-air.

Then: "Get clear!" shouted Manang, as she threw a violently vibrating ruby.

Silently, it sailed through the air.

Then the ruby clanked against the unglok's large belly.

A point of quiet, before the vibrating gem fizzed and exploded in a blinding conflagration, sending water up into the air. The smell of burnt flesh permeated their nostrils. The sound of sizzling reverberated within the cave walls.

And then, through it all, a deafening, maddened roar.

The black lance disappeared. Dimalanta let go of his stance, barrelling backwards, avoiding the force of the blast.

"I've got it! Don't let him get to his bone weapon!" And Manang was off sprinting. From within her banana leaf satchel, she brought out various pieces of shattered bone. These pieces she placed down as she ran a full circle around the unglok, who only scrambled towards its bone weapon.

Dimalanta let out a roar of his own, and he charged forward, straight into the path of the unglok, and he leapt up, adrenaline surging through his body as the shield crashed against a particularly injured area of the unglok.

Another pained roar, and the unglok swung both arms like tree trunks being swung about by a wild boar. Dimalanta managed to dodge the first swing of its thick, trunk-like arm, but the second one slammed right into Dimalanta's right side. The fist was so large that it slammed against his torso and his head—

—something cracked. Pain exploded on his right side. A lance of agony that quickly became numb—

And stars exploded in his vision as he flew backwards, slamming into the water.

Water exploded at the point of impact. There was a period wherein his head was half submerged and half not, and he could hear nothing. All he could hear was the pained grunt of Manang.

Rage bubbled within him.

LET ME FREE.

Dimalanta shook his head. Whatever was speaking into him was something he would NOT want to set free.

DON'T RESIST. HERE, HAVE A FRACTION OF MY POWER.

And suddenly, the aching that exploded across the side of Dimalanta — presumably because of a broken rib or two — vanished, replaced with a sudden, intoxicating invigoration.

And then it flared. Flared with the necessity to bring hurt.

PUT DOWN THE SPEAR. YOUR FISTS WILL SUNDER HEAVEN. YOU WILL SUNDER HEAVEN.

And for the first time, Dimalanta listened.

The maharlika pushed himself from his submersion — his hair dripped with water. He shook his head, trying to shake away the sense of dizziness. Through his fuzzy vision he could see Manang, running away from the unglok. With a pained scream, she kicked water up, threw something from within her bag, and the water froze. The only time he saw ice was when he was high up in the peaks of Mount Mayakon.

The unglok smashed right through the ice wall she had made, sending her sliding into the water. The unglok lunged, its spear of bone angling down.

SAVE HER.

Dimalanta inhaled, and then he opened his mouth. Pure, seething, rage exploded from him in a thundering roar.

He charged forward, spear and shield left behind.

The pain was gone. As he ran, pure adrenaline surged through him. Fire blazed within his heart, sending pulses of red into his fists. The blood that poured down his side was suddenly just an afterthought. The bleeding within him had ceased. The pain was there, but his body was mending itself, somehow.

The words of that disembodied voice echoed. YOU WILL SUNDER HEAVEN.

With a defiant roar, he jumped past Manang, and with only his b.a.r.e hands—

—he caught the gigantic spear of bone and—

Shattered it with another rebellious scream.

He realized now that the monstrous bulging muscles that had writhed within the thin skin of his arm had expanded to the rest of his body. His entire muscular form had swelled that, although lean, had made him taller than he actually was, and more muscular than he actually was.

The unglok grunted in surprise as Dimalanta raced forward, jumping up, the bulk of his body slamming into the c.h.e.s.t of the unglok. The maligno stumbled backwards, as Dimalanta grabbed the unglok by the head, pulled himself up, bringing a knee with him.

His knee cracked against the unglok's skull.

The unglok screamed. Dimalanta fell to the floor as the unglok stumbled, grabbing its face. The raging maharlika turned around and grabbed the two pieces of the bone like shattered fragments of glass. Wielding it like twin blades, he lunged forward, hamstringing the unglok in a demonic rush. The pained screams of the monster filled the cavern, sending bats and flying foxes out of their sleeping places in a flurry.

As the unglok fell forward, Dimalanta leapt up to its head, impaling one bone onto its side, and then the second bone into its skull. Its screams were cut short as that shattered fragment of bone split its skull in half, and Dimalanta screamed in berserker fury as he pushed it down even more, cutting through the throat, and then piercing the heart from the top.

With silence as its only companion, the unglok fell into the water. Black, viscous blood pooled about him like thick ink.

Dimalanta rose from that guck, breathing, hair in a wild crown about him. He turned to Manang, still breathing, fiercely, and he realized he was scowling.

A scowl to topple the gods.

"D-Dimalanta…?"

THEY EARTH IS MY ABODE. I KNOW WHERE THE CHILDREN ARE. QUICKLY NOW, OR YOU WILL LOSE THEM.

"D-Dimalanta wh-what…?" Manang scrambled backwards, looking about her, and then found her banana leaf satchel. She reached for that, and picked it up, grabbing a handful of whatever herbs or ash or what other kulam ingredients she had within. Manang closed her eyes and removed her hand — which came away with two fingers covered in some white substance — from within the satchel. She dabbed those fingers onto her eyes, and then she opened them.

Whatever she saw made her gasp, and scramble back even further.

"I will not hurt you," said Dimalanta.

"You are not Dimalanta-"

"I AM!" He screamed, and his scream resounded in thunder, sending shockwaves through the water. "WOMAN. I don't have time for your fears. Follow me. I know where the duwende have taken the children."

He made his way back up, into the same place they'd entered through. "QUICKLY. I do not know how long this will last. If you want to live, COME WITH ME."

Manang, reluctantly, got up to her feet, and then followed after Dimalanta. She picked up a piece of shattered bone before going.

Dimalanta walked four steps ahead of Manang, who stayed back staring at his back. Dimalanta ignored her, letting his the lingering sense now envelop him as he walked through the twisting, labyrinthine caverns of the underground empire of the duwende.

They were silent as they walked. Dimalanta could not care less about what Manang thought of him at that moment. He let the fury within him build, burn, and escalate.

It reached a boiling point as they heard the shouts of the children. The voices belonged to Panan-aw and Amiha, most definitely.

"Panan-aw!"

"Princess. Don't worry! We'll get out of here soon!"

Dimalanta rushed forward. "Dimalanta!" Manang screamed behind him, but the maharlika had gone down the dark, underground corridor on his own.

A door made of wood and iron barred his entry. Dimalanta roared, he could see something glowing within his armor — the Marks were blazing in a furious red.He realized the armor would only slow him down. He grabbed the armor, and then split it in twain with his b.a.r.e hands as he ran into—

—and through—

—the door.

"What in Sulad?— it's the damned maharlika!"

Dimalanta assessed the situation even as the splinters and fragments of the door flew through the air. Six duwende — each of them of the black faction. Only two of them were wearing armor, made of some sort of golden material that fit their small frame perfectly. Their leader that had been the one to steal the two children had a kris in one hand. Behind the five of them, one wore a golden cuirass wrapped in a black cloak, and in both hands he wielded a kampilan that seemed hilariously oversized for him.

The room was large — it would take Dimalanta ten good bounds to get to the other side. Two of the duwende were guarding Panan-aw, who was chained to the clay wall with branches wrapped around his wrists and ankles, keeping him back, tearing and ripping at his flesh. On the other side of the room was the leader, his kris in one hand. Two other duwende stood before Amiha, her dress all but tatters. She was on the brink of n.a.k.e.dness, parts of her white flesh bleeding red.

The duwende on the back of the room stepped back, and he could barely let the words "M-my Lord…?" out of his mouth before Dimalanta was upon him.

The fragments of the door fell.

"What in Sulad?"

Two hands had gripped the duwende's head, even as he reached for the kampilan, and Dimalanta whirled around, hurling that cloaked duwende straight for the one wielding the kris and the two other duwende that hovered over Amiha. He turned and picked up the kampilan, hefted it, and saw it was good. "Kapalaran guide me…"

The Marks on his skin glowed with a berserk crimson.

Manang appeared in the door.

"Get Panan-aw!" screamed Dimalanta, as he leapt upon the four duwende now surrounding Amiha. "Bu-an, Adlayari, Tala…"

"Don't just stand there!" ordered the one wielding the kris. One of the duwende jumped into his path and was promptly slammed against the ground, leaving a black bloody smear. "Shit!"

The second duwende leapt up upon him. Dimalanta swung his kampilan savagely, ripping the duwende in half in mid-air. Black blood sprayed the cold hard ground. "Makanduk, Yna Guinida, Barangaw…"

The one wielding the kris shouted and leapt up to Dimalanta. The maharlika stepped back, letting the first kris swing miss him, and then he jabbed out with a quick kick, sending the duwende flying back.

The one wielding the cloak was upon him, having picked up a spear that one of the duwende had dropped. The cloaked one thrust, and Dimalanta was just a tad bit too clumsy to dodge away, and the blade bit at the right side of his stomach.

Dimalanta grabbed that spear, pulled it back, and swung his kampilan at the cloaked duwende who had been dragged along by the spear. Ripped in the air, black blood sprayed.

The one wielding the kris was behind him, leapt up, and stabbed him in the back, dragging it down to create a savage rend.

Roaring in anger, Dimalanta turned, but the duwende was too quick, bobbing and weaving, ducking underneath the swing of his blade. As the duwende rose behind Dimalanta's flank, kris at ready—

The maharlika's hand shot out, catching the duwende by his neck. "Exult in the violence I bring."

With a roar, he lifted that duwende into the air, and then slammed him into the ground.

Black blood spilled.

Again. Black sprayed.

Again. Black pooled.

And again.

And again and again and again.

He was screaming, he realized. And he disgustingly revelled in the carnage. Slamming the black thing over and over and over again. This thing was not getting to his children. Ever.

A slap—strong and loud—snapped him from his fury, sending him away from the brink of madness, and into the light of peace.

Dimalanta stumbled backwards, his entire front half covered in blood. The maharlika fell to his b.u.t.t, blinking at what had happened.

Panan-aw, he saw, tended to Amiha.

Manang, he saw, looked at him with a strange mix of anger and fear.

"Dimalanta…"

"I am calm," he said. "Don't worry about me." He exhaled a hot breath. "Let's go look for that bannog. Back to that place where found the unglok."

Amiha was clothed now, swaddles in robes given to her by Panan-aw. Panan-as guided Amiha with two hands wrapped about her. Manang ran up to them. "Is she okay?"

"Yes," said Panan-aw. "But she is shaken. They have not wronged her, but…"

"Let her rest," said Dimalanta, his voice still with that sliver of a fury. "But not here. Follow us."

"Wait," the boy said. "I must get my weapons." And he walked over to a pile of armaments, picking up the various agimat and armor and weapons that the maligno had taken.

Dimalanta watched, breathing shallowly. His hands were curled into an exceedingly tight grip.

Manang's hand fell upon his arm. "Relax."

Dimalanta turned to the youthful Manang, and inhaled. "Yes."

"Okay," said Panan-aw from behind them. "Let's go."