CHAPTER EIGHT: Paghahanda (Preparation)
Setting the Scene Under Spanish colonial rule, Filipinos—or indios, as the Spaniards called them—faced severe discrimination. Low-class citizens were barred from pursuing higher education or securing white-collar jobs. Even those who finished high school were relegated to blue-collar work, labor-intensive roles that demanded physical strength.
Filipinos were denied leadership positions in any field, often working without benefits, earning meager wages compared to their Spanish counterparts, and receiving no extra pay for overtime or holidays.
The government prioritized job opportunities for Spaniards living in the Philippines, leaving many Filipinos to toil as servants or slaves just to survive, a harsh reality that persisted for generations.
Only the ilustrados—wealthy Filipinos who registered as "Adopted Children of Spain" (Honorary Spaniards)—could access privileges like better jobs and benefits.
But this status was neither simple nor cheap, entangled in a corrupt political system that favored the elite, requiring substantial payments at every step of the process.
Meanwhile, back in Urdaneta, Kardo and the vegetable vendors sought help at the local police station after the rebels stole their truck and took Erik captive. With nowhere else to go, they spent the night outside the station, hoping for justice.
By morning, they were still there, pleading for assistance to recover their stolen goods and rescue Erik. But the authorities ignored them, shooing them away like pests.
Determined, Kardo mustered his courage and entered the station again to appeal to the chief. "Sir, please, we need to get back what they stole," he said, his voice trembling with desperation.
The chief sighed, exasperated. "We told you last night—we're doing our job to find those rebels, but we haven't found a single one. Just wait for updates on your case."
"But sir, we can't just wait!" Kardo pleaded. "They took a child—Erik. Have some mercy on him!"
The chief's patience snapped. He shouted at Kardo, his tone dripping with disdain. "You're so stubborn! We've already said we can't send men into the forest—it's crawling with rebels. Do you think what you're asking is easy?"
He sneered, adding, "Go home and pray that boy you're talking about is still alive. We're not risking our men in a dangerous place just for some indio."
The chief's men quickly stepped in, forcibly escorting Kardo out of the station.
Kardo knew how hard it was to get the authorities to care about Filipinos, but he had no one else to turn to. With a heavy heart, he trudged out of the building, his face etched with worry. He wrestled with a painful decision: should they return to their province, or stay and wait for Erik?
As the group's leader, Kardo felt responsible for everyone. He knew his companions couldn't linger in Urdaneta—their families were waiting, anxious, back home. But if he left, who would pursue Erik's case?
Outside, he noticed the police bustling about, decorating the area with colorful banderitas. The town of Urdaneta buzzed with festive energy, preparing for a grand celebration—the mayor's birthday. On the mayor's orders, the police were diverted to beautify the city, leaving fewer guards at the town's borders and even less attention on public service.
"They'd rather party than save a life," Kardo muttered bitterly. "This isn't right."
At the municipal hall, the mayor, a jittery old man in white, welcomed his honored guests—wealthy Spaniards from neighboring towns, invited to the upcoming festivities. Despite not being a soldier, the mayor saluted nervously as he greeted them, a gesture of respect for their military ranks.
The hall's corridor was lined with saluting policemen as the mayor walked alongside a imposing man. This guest moved with a commanding presence—broad-shouldered, with short black hair, aged in his forties, and a stern expression. He wore an elegant black coat adorned with a red lion crest, crowned—a symbol of Spain's military elite, reserved for high-ranking officers.
This man was General Magat, known as "General Slasher," the 75th member of the Sword of Spain—an elite group of Spanish generals endowed with extraordinary, almost inexplicable powers. He was a governor-general, one of the many Spaniards sent from Spain to rule over the Philippines' provinces, where they settled after being assigned by the Spanish government.
Unlike the Philippines, Spain had harnessed the power of fairies for centuries, using them to bolster their nation's strength. Over 200 Spanish Messengers had been chosen by fairies, their actions tightly controlled by the Spanish government. These Messengers, often generals like Slasher, oversaw Spain's territories, including colonies like the Philippines.
Spain's most elite Messengers, ranked from the 15th to the 1st Sword of Spain, were deployed only in times of war. Feared as Spain's ultimate weapons, they struck terror into the hearts of rival nations.
General Slasher was notorious for his ruthless and uncompromising rule. Since becoming governor, he had enforced a brutal decree: any rebel spotted in Pangasinan's towns was to be executed on sight. He had become an executioner of rebels, leaving a trail of blood in his wake.
Now, he had accepted the mayor's invitation to Urdaneta's celebration, not out of festivity, but for his own deadly purpose. His stern demeanor sent shivers through the policemen, who swallowed hard under his piercing gaze, terrified of drawing his ire.
Inside the mayor's office, the nervous mayor offered his chair to the general. Without a word, Slasher sat, his presence dominating the room.
"Uh… General Slasher, why didn't you tell me you were coming today?" the mayor stammered. "I would've sent my men to fetch you."
"I can walk and move just fine," Slasher replied coldly. "Do you think I'm some useless invalid?"
"N-no, not at all!" the mayor backtracked, flustered. "I was just worried you'd tire yourself driving here. And… the celebration isn't until tomorrow, so I was surprised by your early arrival."
Slasher's eyes narrowed, his voice sharp. "Why should I report my every move to you?"
The mayor panicked, quickly apologizing for his words.
Slasher leaned back in the mayor's plush chair, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "I've always enjoyed town festivities. I'm glad you invited me."
The mayor beamed, assuming Slasher was genuinely eager for the birthday celebration. But the general's next words shattered that illusion.
"Whenever there's a big event, the rats always come out to play," Slasher said cryptically.
The mayor blinked, confused, until Slasher clarified. He meant the rebels—those who seized every chance to disrupt major events in the province's towns. Slasher made it a habit to attend such occasions, not to join the merriment, but to hunt rebels.
"It's been a while since I last played with the rats in your town," he said, his smile widening as he recalled a bloody hunt in Urdaneta a decade ago. "I'm looking forward to your birthday."
The mayor swallowed hard, unnerved by Slasher's chilling grin. He knew the general's reputation—his hunts often left chaos in their wake, and the mayor feared the celebration he'd planned would be ruined.
"Uh… General, I don't care about the indios or how many of them die," the mayor said nervously, "but there'll be wealthy Spaniards and businessmen at the event. What if they get caught up in your… game?"
Slasher dismissed his concerns with a wave. "I don't care who gets in the way," he said bluntly, admitting that bystanders often got hurt during his hunts. "Those rich Spaniards are just bait to lure the pests out of hiding."
As he spoke, Slasher rested his hands on the mayor's wooden desk. Slowly, a metallic sheen began to encase his hands, creeping up to his arms like a suit of armor. Blades sprouted from the desk, piercing the wood until it resembled a table made of sharp steel—an eerie display of his power as a Messenger of Spain's fairies.
His ability allowed him to summon countless blades at will, a skill that turned every operation against rebels into a bloodbath. Even his own men often fell victim to his indiscriminate attacks. No rebel had ever been captured alive under his watch—those who weren't impaled were sliced into pieces.
"I'm eager for a bloody birthday celebration in Urdaneta," Slasher said, his smile growing as a low chuckle escaped his lips.
The mayor could only gulp, his nerves fraying. He knew he couldn't defy the governor-general's plans, even if it meant risking the safety of the influential guests attending the event.
Unbeknownst to them, a young girl stood just outside the door, eavesdropping on their conversation. Around thirteen years old, she had golden hair and wore an elegant dress, marking her as a child of wealth. She was General Slasher's daughter, brought along as one of the guests.
After hearing her father's words, she didn't enter the room. Instead, she walked away, her face shadowed with disappointment. "He hasn't changed," she whispered to herself.
The next day, at the rebel camp, preparations for the attack on the municipal hall continued. The men trained with fierce determination, confident in Alfredo's power as a Messenger. But Alfredo himself seemed unconcerned, lounging in the shade with a comic book in hand.
He and Erik spent the day playing and chatting, as if the looming battle were a distant concern. Meanwhile, Erik wandered the camp, his eyes searching the surroundings.
Erik's POV
I've circled this camp several times now, but she's nowhere to be found. I'm looking for that mysterious woman I spoke with yesterday—but am I really looking for her? I mean, I'm starting to doubt if she was even real, or just some illusion my mind conjured up.
I kept walking, my eyes scanning the trees, when I noticed something odd. With each step, I heard a faint echo of footsteps behind me, as if someone were following. I turned quickly, my heart racing, to confirm my suspicion.
And there she was—the mysterious woman, standing so close I could feel her presence. She froze mid-step, mirroring my stillness.
She'd been trailing me, stepping exactly where I had, as if playing a game. For a moment, silence enveloped us, our eyes locking. I realized then that there was no way I could've missed her approach—unless she wasn't entirely… real.
I wasn't sure if she was human or a forest spirit, but her closeness unnerved me. Panic surged through me—she looked like a white lady from the ghost stories I'd heard as a child. I stumbled back, tripping and falling to the ground, pointing at her in a frenzy. "Y-you! I knew you were real! You're not an illusion!" I blurted out.
Then, my voice rose to a shout. "Wait—you're a ghost, aren't you?!"
She burst into laughter, amused by my reaction. I sat there, frozen, unsure how to respond. I'd never been laughed at by a ghost before—a ghost I should've been terrified of.
"You're so strange," she said, still chuckling. "You're scared of something you've been searching for all this time. Weren't you just looking for me?"
I blinked, startled that she knew I'd been searching for her. "I've been behind you this whole time," she added, "but you were too distracted to notice."
My shock lingered, though I realized I had no reason to fear her. Despite my initial terror, she was beautiful, her voice soft and gentle—not at all what I'd expect from a wandering spirit. I gathered my courage and asked, "Are you really a ghost? How can you just appear like that?"
She smiled faintly. "A lost soul? I'm not sure. But I'd rather say I'm a spirit of nature."
She explained that she wasn't a spirit of someone who'd once lived as a human. Her form was born from the energy of nature itself, invisible to most people. That's why no one else in Siklaon could see her—except me.
"Except me?" I echoed. "If that's true, why can I see you?"
Her answer was simple, yet it shook me to my core. "Because you're a Messenger of the fairies."
She continued, "You don't see me with your eyes—you sense my presence. That's what sets us apart from ordinary humans. We can perceive each other because of the special connection we share with the fairies' energy."
Once again, she mentioned my supposed role as a Messenger, a claim I still couldn't wrap my head around. She explained that fairies were beings of natural energy, and when Messengers bonded with their power, they could embrace that energy, becoming one with it.
She began to circle me slowly, sharing more about herself. She was a nature spirit who had slept for eons, awakening in this era to a world that had changed beyond recognition.
With no knowledge of the land's current state, she traveled far and wide, learning that other fairies had gone into slumber, appointing human Messengers to take their place as guardians.
"I can sense the presence of fairies within the humans they've chosen to wield their power," she said.
Then, she sat directly in front of me, her hand gently resting on my chest. "And you," she said softly, "are one of those chosen Messengers."
She added, "But as I told you before, you haven't yet bonded with your fairy's power or accepted its role in your life."
I didn't know how to react. My mind raced, and I blurted out, "If I really am a Messenger, how do I bond with this power you're talking about?"
She stood, her expression serious. "You'll need to face a trial—a moment that proves you're willing to do anything for your land and acknowledge your fairy as its guardian."
She admitted she wasn't certain of the exact process, as her knowledge came only from other Messengers she'd met in distant provinces during her travels.
In the middle of our conversation, Alfredo called out to me from a nearby hut, shouting for me to join him inside to eat and play. I stood, brushing the dirt off my clothes, ready to head back.
But a question nagged at me. "If only Messengers can see you, why doesn't Alfredo notice you?" I asked.
"Exactly," she replied. "He can't sense my presence, so he can't see me. It's that simple."
"But why?" I pressed.
She paused, her hand on her chin, deep in thought. Even she seemed unsure why Alfredo was different from the other Messengers she'd encountered.
She explained that she'd been traveling to gather information about the land's state, lingering in this forest because of the mystery surrounding Alfredo.
"I have a feeling something's wrong with the Messenger chosen by Pangasinan's fairy," she said gravely. "He's violating the pact he made with his fairy."
She went on, "When a Messenger breaks their pact, the natural energy that guides them fades. They can still use their fairy's power however they wish, with no one to stop them—unless the fairy awakens. It's the same with Spain's Messengers."
She sighed, frustration evident in her voice. "That's the flaw I see in the fairies' decision to choose humans as Messengers. But I can't wake them to point out their mistake. It's so difficult."
Her words shocked me. I asked what Alfredo could be doing to violate his pact. To me, he seemed like a good person, genuinely dedicated to protecting his people.
She gave me a pointed look. "Is that what you think? You're too kind, kid—that's why you're so easily deceived."
She continued, "I can't ask him about his plans since he can't see or hear me, but I'm certain I know why the natural energy has abandoned him."
She moved behind me, her hands resting on my shoulders as she leaned in to whisper, forcing me to look at Alfredo in the distance.
"He's defying the sacred duty he swore to Ada Siklaon," she murmured in my ear. "He plans to use his power for selfish desires."
"Huh?" I breathed, my mind reeling.
She pressed further, her voice cold and piercing. "Would you be willing to sacrifice your entire life for the whims of a 'good friend' who asks you to die for him?"
I couldn't believe what I was hearing. She pointed out the dark energy that enveloped Alfredo whenever he was angry—a sign of corruption, a negative force that clashed with the purity of nature spirits.
As she spoke, Alfredo approached with a warm smile, calling out to me to join him inside. I couldn't move, her grip on my shoulders holding me in place.
Alfredo, unable to see her, grew puzzled by my stillness. I stood there, staring at him, unable to respond to his invitation.
The spirit whispered again, her words sending a chill down my spine. My skin prickled, every hair on my body standing on end.
"That man plans to kill you—and everyone around him," she said, her voice icy.
I didn't know how to react. Alfredo stood before me, his hand outstretched, his smile as kind as ever. "What's wrong? Are you okay?" he asked gently.
Confusion overwhelmed me. Was she joking to scare me, or was this a genuine warning to stay away from the man in front of me?
My thoughts spiraled. I can't think straight. Do I need to make a decision?
But what choice did I really have? I was a captive—my life was in Alfredo's hands.
"Come on, let's go back inside," Alfredo urged, still smiling. "We can play with the kids at the orphanage."
He must've noticed the fear on my face, the way I hesitated to take his hand. His smile faded, and he stepped closer, our faces inches apart. Gently, as he often did to calm me, he placed a hand on my head.
"Don't worry," he said softly. "Everything will be okay."
"Huh?!" was all I could manage, my voice barely a whisper.
To me, Alfredo was a true friend—no, more like an older brother. Whenever I was with him, I felt at ease. He was always kind, always looking out for me. But now, doubt crept in. Should I trust the mysterious woman behind me, or the man who'd cared for me like family?
What should I do?
End of Chapter