It's a bit cooler in Tundun today compared to the past few days. My body still aches from the fight earlier. Honestly, that Yna, while she didn't push my life to the brink of death. I can say she was far more dangerous than the red-haired guy. By the way… is he still alive?
Anyway, it's better if I finish what Mayari asked me to do as quickly as possible so I can eat dinner already.
It took me about half an hour to reach the camp the child mentioned. I probably ran around ten kilometers if I'm not mistaken. I immediately looked for a place to hide.
"MOVE IT, DAMN IT—IT'S GETTING DARK!" an Iberian agta shouted.
Then—wham—he struck a malnourished looking kalanget on the head with a baton. Dang, my guy's brain scattered across the ground.
I bit into my pandesal and shifted my gaze to another part of the camp. To observe. The camp was by the shoreline. It looked newly built—probably intended to become a dock for ships as well. Two massive cliffs surrounded it, each about twenty meters high. Rocky. Bare. No shade of tree up there at all.
I could smell the salt of the sea clearly. Man… it would feel amazing to swim right now.
"Focus, Wan…" I whispered to myself. Okay. So… one… two… three… four…
Fifty. Fifty in total.
It was obvious the slaves here hadn't eaten yet. They were a mix of agta, kalanget, humans, and even ikugan. All of them had cracked lips. Some could barely move properly. There were children and elderly people carrying planks and other heavy materials. Some had bakal na pira shackled to both hands.
Their bones were practically showing. Seeing them made me hungry.
Too bad, I'd already finished my pandesal. I slowly backed away and headed back to Cubao. Hopefully, when I returned, food would already be waiting.
It took me about forty minutes to get back to Cubao. Teach, and I had passed through here last week, before we ended up in Banahaw. Cubao was much smaller than Nilad, and darker at night. There were only a few lampposts around.
I was at the plaza when I saw Agni standing with his head lowered, as if waiting for someone. I approached him and asked what he was doing.
"Hey—what's going on?" I asked, standing up while staring at the same direction he's staring at. He pulled me down and shushed me. He just silenced me, then shifted his gaze again toward the center of the plaza.
The plaza was small—oval-shaped, not even half the size of Plaza Nuevo. There was a placard left beside a tree. Something was written on it.
I squinted hard to read it.
"Ka–la–ya–an–pa…"
"You can read Kulitan?" the old man asked.
"Yes. My teacher taught me. Why?" His face showed clear surprise.
I was about to continue reading when an old man suddenly grabbed the placard.
Rude.
Despite his age—his white, wrinkled skin gave him away—his build was still solid. He was tall, with a sharp nose. Probably had Iberian blood.
He read the placard, picked it up, looked around, and walked away. Agni tapped me, signaling me to follow.
"Wait—aren't we eating first?" I whispered.
"Later. Since you're already here, just follow," he ordered. Annoying old fart. Acting as if we're friends.
We followed the old man until he reached a two-story house. Agni positioned himself in a narrow, dark alley, while I jumped up onto the roof so I could hear and see better.
Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Agni staring at me with his mouth slightly open. The old man knocked three times. The door opened just a crack, and he whispered, "Lariz."
The door opened fully, and he went inside, placard still in hand.
We left immediately and regrouped with Mayari and Given. The child they'd rescued earlier was still with them.
"How did it go, Wan?" Mayari asked quickly.
"All good," I replied. I told her about the camp's layout, the number of soldiers, and the condition of the slaves. All while I was stuffing my mouth with grilled chicken.
Worth it. Totally worth the twenty-kilometer run. The sauce soaked into my tongue, the taste of soy sauce lingering with every bite.
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Darkness had fully claimed the skies over Tundun. And in the small town of Cubao, an event was about to unfold, one that would change not only the fate of Tundun, but of the entire Ma-i.
Unlike Nilad, Cubao had only a few lampposts to light its streets. The houses were smaller and simpler, and there were no buildings to speak of. Its uneven roads were thick with dust. It was a place that seemed abandoned by the very idea of "progress."
Under the new moon, five men returned to the spot where Agni had left the placard. One of them was the old man who had found it.
"This is where I saw it," he explained to the other four.
"But who would leave something like that here?" one of them asked. His voice was deep, his skin dark, his hair curly and wild—like black grass gone untamed. His build was solid, though he stood a few inches shorter than the old man. Like the elder, he had bakal na pira shackles on his hands.
"Do you have any idea, Tata Islaw?" another asked.
"None," the old man replied as he scanned the surroundings for anyone else nearby. "But whoever left it here clearly wanted our attention."
They swept their eyes around again, sharpening both sight and instinct. The old man did not dismiss the possibility that this was a trap. They walked back toward the house Islaw had entered earlier. When they reached the door, they looked both ways to make sure no one had followed them.
Islaw knocked and spoke the word, "Lariz."
The door opened slightly. A pale, sweat-soaked woman greeted them. Islaw noticed that she was trembling, barely able to move.
"Hey—why do you look like you've just seen a ghost?" the curly-haired man asked.
Islaw frowned and subtly reached for the hilt of the dagger hidden beneath his clothes, bracing himself for the danger he sensed.
"Everyone," the old man whispered, "be ready."
His companions took a deep breath and readied their weapons. Slowly, they moved toward the living area. The room was slightly spacious, with wooden floors and a staircase along one side leading to the open second floor.
"Good evening, friends," Agni greeted them from a dark corner of the room.
Two of them lunged immediately.
One hurled a knife toward Agni's head, but the warrior dodged it effortlessly. Agni shifted to the left, and in a swift motion, his body seemed to merge with his own shadow. He stepped forward—and in a blink, he was right in front of the man who had thrown the knife.
His kampilan stayed from its scabbard as he drove it into the man's stomach. The rebel dropped to his knees. His eyes went wide as he vomited everything he had eaten earlier.
"WHO ARE YOU!?" the dark, curly-haired man shouted.
Agni smiled. "If only you'd let me speak first, my friends."
He raised both hands and scanned the men now surrounding him, analyzing them one by one. Two were sweating heavily; he noticed their knees trembling. The man he had struck struggled to remain standing.
The curly-haired man spoke quickly. "Tata, this must be the one who left the placard in the park."
He turned to look at the old man—but his eyes widened when he saw that Islaw was no longer beside him. The woman was gone as well.
"Fuck…" he whispered.
"Hey, kulot."
The man turned to his right—and there he saw Wan with Mayari. More importantly, he saw Wan's dagger pressed against Islaw's neck. The woman was being held by Mayari. Though barely strong enough to do so, Mayari managed to restrain her—thanks to the fear that had seized the woman the moment the three intruders entered their hideout.
"TATA!!!" the rebels shouted in fury. "DAMN IT—LET HIM GO!" the curly-haired man yelled, pointing his knife at Wan.
"Wow. What are you gonna do—kill me with your stare?" Wan mocked.
"Let go of Tata Islaw!" the man ordered.
"Ah, ah, ah… you first," Wan said. He glanced briefly at Mayari and noticed she was already struggling to keep hold of the hostage.
"Old man," Wan said to Islaw, "tell them what to do. Or your friend here is dead."
The old man's breath hitched at Wan's threat.
"E-everyone…" Islaw said shakily. "P–please… lower your weapons…"
Though hesitant, they lowered their weapons one by one. Agni moved quickly, confiscating them without delay.
Mayari and Wan released their two captives. Mayari stepped forward and spoke.
"Good evening…" Mayari said, breathless, yet her voice still carried weight. "Forgive us for having to introduce ourselves in this manner…"
"You bastard, do you really think that just because you've taken our weapons you can—" Bay-an didn't get to finish before Islaw raised his hand to silence him.
"My lady…" intrigue was clear in the old man's voice, "may we know your name?"
"Tata Islaw, what are you doing!?" Bay-an protested.
"Bay-an," the old man said firmly, "it's dangerous to continue fighting here. Someone might hear us."
He turned his gaze back to the young woman, as if already suspecting who stood before him.
"Once again, young lady… may I know your name?"
Mayari lowered her head slightly. "Good evening, everyone. I am Mayari… Mayari of Tundun."
Her tone was polite, yet everyone inside felt the authority carried in her voice. Islaw swallowed hard. So did several of his companions. All of them froze, as if doused with cold water.
"THIS IS NONSENSE!" Bay-an shouted. "News about her death was announced yesterday! Rakta's daughter is dead!"
Mayari's brow furrowed at how Bay-an uttered her father's name. She's about to step forward, but Agni shot her a sharp look—one that clearly told her to rein in her emotions.
Islaw studied her carefully, her manner of speaking, her posture, the cadence of her voice. Then he smiled and bowed deeply.
"Good evening to you, Dayang Mayari," he greeted her. (Dayang was the ancient Tunduvan term for princess.)
Bay-an raised an eyebrow. "W–wait, Tata. This small girl?" Wan struggled to hold back his laughter at that.
"If that's the case," the curly-haired man said bitterly, "what is a maginoo doing in our territory!? Or wait—does this mean you faked your death to escape Nilad after killing Rakta?"
Mayari tightened her grip on her blade. Just as she was about to raise it and strike Bay-an, Wan gently caught her hand and whispered,
"Easy… don't forget why we're here."
Agni also visibly restrained himself. Mayari took a deep breath to calm herself. Meanwhile, Islaw motioned for Bay-an to hold his tongue. He bowed once more before her.
"Dayang, forgive the rudeness of my companion… And you have my condolences for your father's death."
Mayari closed her eyes and straightened her posture once more. She thanked the old man but made it clear that this was not why they had come.
"First of all, I want to make something clear," she said. "I did not kill my father. Like you, something that should have been mine was taken from me. But that is not why I am here."
She paused.
"I need your help."
"H–help?" Islaw asked.
"Yes." Mayari nodded to Wan, who immediately stepped forward.
"Alright, bosses," Wan said, earning confused looks from the rebels. "About eleven kilometers from here, along the shores of Kubiz, there's an Iberian camp where Tunduvans are being forced to work under polo. The problem is—"
He paused as Mayari interjected, feigning sadness. "Most of them are children and the elderly." She locked eyes with Islaw. "Many of them are clearly on the brink of death from hunger and exhaustion."
Bay-an's face reddened at this, but he said nothing. Mayari stepped forward.
"We learned of this after we encountered a child who escaped from the camp," she said. "He is currently staying at a safe house with my Maharlika."
"A child?" Bay-an asked doubtfully.
"Yes," Mayari replied.
"Tch. Didn't it ever cross your mind that this could be an Iberian trap?!" Bay-an snapped, his voice rising with every word.
"A trap?" Mayari shot back. "For whom?"
"For us! Who else!" Bay-an replied immediately. "We are Penum—" He didn't get to finish.
"Petty terrorists," Mayari cut in. "That's what you are."
Bay-an's teeth ground together. "What did you say!?" he roared, clenching his fist as veins bulged on his forehead. "Do you forget where you are right now!?"
Rage filled his voice. Even Islaw was visibly unsettled and irritated by the princess's remarks. Mayari stepped closer, locking eyes with Bay-an. "Terrorists. That's what you are."
Bay-an stood a full two feet taller than Mayari—but at that moment, it felt as though he were the one looking up at her.
"Do you really think Iberia would waste time setting a trap just for you?" she said, walking past Bay-an toward the man Agni had struck earlier.
"Yes, your numbers have grown. But how many of you are actual soldiers? How many of you understand combat and tactics?"
She glanced at the bakal na pira shackles on Bay-an's hands. "Those metal bands on your wrists are proof that you have never once fought using Nu." She looked back at him calmly.
"And you—when was the last time you used Nu?" Her voice was steady, but Bay-an felt as though she were stripping him alive.
Bay-an stood frozen, robbed of speech, unable to find words to answer her. Islaw kept his head lowered, trying to hide his eyes from the princess. Wan let out a whistle from the side.
"What I mean," Mayari continued, her tone shifting from sharp accusation to something gentler, like a mother ready to embrace her child, "is that you are not as capable as you think." Islaw swallowed hard upon hearing this.
"Most of you are ordinary citizens. Some are farmers and fishermen. Others are escaped slaves with no training in combat."
She looked directly at Islaw. This time, he felt not judgment—but pity—from her. "And some of you… are baylan who have never once experienced the embrace of Nu."
This time, the young woman's tone sharpened again, like a scalpel peeling and slicing through the group.
"So, tell me," Mayari said coldly, "why would Iberia waste time setting a trap for you, when I myself managed to find you in just a single night?"
The old man frowned and asked the princess, "Dayang… what do you mean?"
Mayari's tone softened once more. "In your opinion, despite all the weaknesses I've laid bare about your group, why hasn't Iberia completely wiped you out?"
Islaw found her words deeply unsettling. This was Mayari's signal to move into the next phase of her plan.
"Tata Islaw," she continued, "according to your informants, how many Iberian soldiers are currently in Ma-i since your group was discovered?"
The old man thought for a moment. "Based on my scouts, the number has risen to more than two hundred thousand Iber—"
Islaw's eyes widened. Mayari suppressed the smile threatening to form on her lips as Islaw finally grasped what she was pointing toward. She adjusted her tone again, letting sympathy seep into her voice.
"Do you understand now, Tata Islaw?"
Islaw closed his eyes and sank back into his seat. He massaged his forehead and let out a long, heavy breath.
"Fuck…" he whispered.
"Tata? W–what does this brat mean?" his companions asked.
"We're being used by Iberia…" despair filled the old man's eyes as tears slowly fell. "Am I right, Dayang?"
From the look he gave her, Mayari knew he already understood.
"You are, Tata," she said gently, making sure the sympathy in her voice was unmistakable. "Iberia is using your rebellion as justification to send even more soldiers. Their true goal is to strip the maginoos of Tundun of power... and soon enough, the other three kingdoms as well."
Shock spread across Agni's face. "Princess… is what you're saying really true?"
"Yes. The maginoos would protest if Iberian troops suddenly flooded in without any reason. That's why they're using Penumbra, so they can have a legitimate justification to bring in more soldiers without resistance."
Bay-an spat on the floor. "So what!?" he snapped, stepping toward Mayari. "You nobles haven't helped us either! To us slaves, you're no different from the Iberians—just another group of oppressors."
Even so, Tata Islaw knew what would happen if the nobles were removed. "Bay-an, calm yourself," he said, gripping the young man's shoulder. "I don't want to admit it... but the maginoos are the reason we're not completely under Iberian control."
"W–what do you mean?" Bay-an asked.
Wan cut in. "What the old man here means is this—if the nobles disappear, Iberians will take their place. Most likely the Governor-Generals. And then there'll be no one left to stop whatever they want to do."
Mayari glanced at Wan, as if she had something to say—but she chose to let things unfold naturally.
"So if the nobles fall," Wan continued, "your suffering only gets worse. What's happening in the polo camps? That's just a preview." Despite the weight of his words, Wan's face showed no alarm, no pity.
Bay-an collapsed to his knees on the wooden floor. The tears he'd been holding back finally spilled over. His lips trembled as his fists clenched. He slammed his fist into the floor.
"What are you saying!?" His voice cracked, suddenly sounding like a small child. "That everything we've done to raise and free our homeland… was all meaningless!?" Anger and desperation tangled in his voice.
"That in the end we only have two choices!? Die fighting—or live as slaves in our own land!?" Mayari showed eyes softened. She knelt in front of Bay-an.
"Yes," she said quietly. "If Tunduvans continue to see you as nothing more than terrorists and bandits." She extended her right hand toward him.
"Help me. Let us show them there is still hope. Help me free our brothers and sisters…"
As Bay-an stared at the hand offered to him, a small spark—like a newborn flame—flickered in his chest. Still, he did not take it. He wiped his tears and turned to Islaw.
"Tata, I want to free our brothers in Kubiz."
A restrained smile touched Mayari's lips. She knew Bay-an's hatred for nobles like her, but she also knew that with her words, she had already lit a small ember in his heart and mind. All that remained was to fan that gas slowly.
"I'm sorry, my child," Islaw said, "but before we act, the Supremo must be informed."
He looked at Mayari. "Dayang, I want the slaves in that camp freed as much as you do—but the Supremo needs to know first."
"I understand," Mayari replied. "Then… may I speak with him?"
"He's currently in Itakam," Islaw said. "But I'll send word immediately. Once he knows you wish to speak with him, I'm certain he'll agree."
Mayari bowed and thanked the old man.
"Dayang, return here tomorrow afternoon," Islaw said. "By then, the Supremo will have answered. When you come back, knock—and whisper the…"
Islaw smirked. "Well, you already know what to do."
Afterward, Mayari apologized once more, and they returned to the inn where Given and Agustin were staying. But before they entered, Agni finally couldn't hold back his question.
"Princess… the things you said earlier, about the nobles…"
"I'm not really certain…" Mayari replied as she opened the door.
"Hey, what happened?" Given asked immediately. Agustin was already asleep. "Are they going to help?"
Mayari sighed and lay down on the bed, letting her back sink into the mattress. "I don't know..."
"Huh? Why?" Given asked.
Wan grabbed Given by the face. "You're not the one being talked to."
"Princess?" Agni asked.
Fatigue was already etched into Mayari's voice. "To be honest, I'm not certain about my theory about Iberia's true plan. I'm not sure if I'm reading the situation correctly," she admitted, staring blankly at the ceiling. "But it's the most logical conclusion based on the evidences I've seen."
Agni studied the young woman's face. Mayari remained silent, lifting her right hand to cover her eyes. A heavy quiet settled over the room. Given sat quietly in a corner, clueless about everything that had happened. Wan opened the window, letting the cool night air pour in, then sat on the sill.
A surge of emotions flooded Mayari's mind. Yizmael's face and his deceitful words about her father. Aslon's cold gaze. The crushing weight of the Datu's throne that is now empty. All of it gnawed at her thoughts like pests.
Still, she refused to let these thoughts consume her heart. If she could earn Penumbra's trust by playing into their anger, if the workers of the polo would serve as fuel for her vengeance against those who killed her father, then she would do it. Without hesitation.
"You're playing with fire."
Wan's voice cut through the suffocating silence. Mayari turned her gaze slightly toward him.
"Are you prepared," he continued, "for the moment that fire burns you?"
She understood exactly what he meant. "Yes," Mayari answered. "I know Penumbra will only use me." She smiled faintly and went on, "But there's more I stand to gain if everything goes according to my plan."
She looked directly into Wan. Her eyes—red, glassy, as if they might spill over at any moment. "And besides," she said quietly, "what else do I have left to lose?"
Wan looked away. Behind his eyes flickered sadness and disappointment. Without a word, he picked up a piece of bread, took a bite, then stood and walked out of the room.
Mayari could barely move. Her feet were numb, her legs throbbing from the long walk. On top of that, the confrontation with Penumbra had drained what little strength she had left. She collapsed onto the bed and shut her eyes.
A soft laugh escaped her lips—forced, bitter—nearly smothered by the pillow.
"I thought I was already strong…" she whispered to no one.
Few more minutes, Mayari forced herself up. It felt as though she carried the weight of everything on her back. Slowly, she left the bed and headed for the door. Agni asked where she was going, but she said she just needed some air. He moved to follow, but she stopped him. Given remained silent, gently stroking Agustin's forehead as the child slept on a woven mat on the floor.
The door opened.
Wan stood on the terrace. Moonlight wrapped around him like a protective embrace. Its glow made his silver hair shine even brighter—like stars scattered across the night sky. After a moment, Mayari's sharp eyes met Wan's catlike gaze.
"Oi… you okay?" he asked. His voice was gentle, nothing like his usual tone. He noticed how sluggish her movements were.
"Yes…" Mayari replied softly. She swallowed her hesitation, searching for the right words. "I just wanted… to know how you're doing."
Wan raised an eyebrow slightly, then gave her a small, familiar smile. "I'm fine..."
A brief silence followed—heavy, filled with questions neither dared to speak. Mayari stepped closer, and as she did, she caught sight of Wan's hair dancing with the wind.
"About Hiraya… in the forest—what really happened?"
Wan's smile vanished, replaced by a cold stillness. "I can't fully elaborate. It was her order."
Mayari inhaled sharply, and before she could stop herself, she reached for the sleeve of Wan's clothes.
"Wan…" Her voice lost all hesitation, turning into something like a prayer. "Can I trust you?"
The question seemed to change the air around them. The sharpness in Mayari's eyes softened, revealing the emotions she had been desperately hiding. At the same time, Wan's smile returned.
"Yes," he answered, uttered like a solemn vow.
Warmth spread through Mayari's chest, slowly pushing away the cold that had settled there. A faint smile touched her lips.
"Thank you," she whispered.
They remained outside for a while, still, silent. Gradually, Mayari's hand found its way to Wan's arm. Beneath the moonlight, their shadows swayed together, joined by the flickering dance of fire from the nearby lamps.