It was as though my lips were sealed shut when our eyes met.
Time slowed, and it felt as if we were both lost within the depths of each other's gaze.
Though half my face was hidden, I felt as if she could see through the veil — as if her eyes searched me, examined me, and saw nothing else but me. Uneasy, I turned my gaze away, and that small motion seemed to break her trance. She glanced to the side, then, after ensuring I was a safe distance from the ledge, released her hold and stepped back, her eyes cold and suspicious.
"What is a dancer doing in the Raja's courtyard?" she demanded. "Do you not know that trespassing here without permission is an act of defiance?"
I lowered my gaze, bowing slightly even though the lower half of my face was covered by silk. In truth, I had no idea what to say to escape her suspicion. My heart pounded so hard I feared it might stop altogether.
"Speak, woman," she warned.
My hands curled into fists. I could not open my mouth; my mind scattered like leaves in the wind, and my tongue seemed bound. Cold sweat gathered in my palms as I tried to speak.
"P-princess--"
"Ilay!"
I froze at the sound of Lira's voice. When I turned, she was already marching toward us.
"What are you doing here? Didn't I tell you not to wander off alone? Your recklessness always gives me a headache!" she scolded, punctuating her words with a hard smack to my arm.
"Ow!" I gasped, clutching my arm before glancing back at the Princess, who now stared at Lira with a sharp gaze.
"Y-Your Grace," Lira stammered, bowing low when she realized who stood before her. "Forgive me, I didn't realize it was the Princess speaking to my dancer. If she has done anything improper, please accept my sincerest apologies. We are but humble performers from Ibaloi, and this is her first time performing in a foreign court."
I quickly followed her lead, bowing deeply and praying the Princess would overlook my foolishness.
"F-forgive me, Your Grace," I added shakily. "I was careless and ignorant. I did not realize this was part of the Raja's domain. I humbly beg your pardon."
Lira's hand tightened around my wrist beneath my shawl, and though she said nothing, I could almost hear her thoughts whispering angrily: Didn't I warn you to be careful?
I shut my eyes quietly, enduring her grip and the ache that came with it. The silence between us stretched until at last the heavy steps of the Princess echoed against the stone. Yet instead of scolding or threatening us, she merely turned away — leaving without a word or even a backward glance.
I rose from my bow and watched her go. Relief washed over me, but unease lingered. I wondered what thoughts stirred behind her calm expression. For sixteen years, she had remained an enigma to me — impossible to read, impossible to understand. Even now, I could not fathom why she had let me escape that night so long ago.
"I warned you!" Lira hissed, striking my arm again, though this time I didn't flinch. My eyes remained fixed on the Princess's fading silhouette.
"Yumi!"
I blinked, took a deep breath, and turned to her with a faint smile. "Come, Lira. It's time to fetch your troublesome sister," I said.
Her brow furrowed, puzzled by the sudden calmness in my tone, but she said nothing more. Lira knew well how much trouble Ilay's curiosity could cause. Because I had taken her place as the lead dancer, Ilay had been free to wander that night — something that troubled us both deeply. If we failed to find her before dawn, their mother would surely discover our deception… and we would pay dearly for it.
The sun had already risen by the time we received our small pouch of gold for the performance. By the time we reached the borders of Maynila, the sun was setting. We still had a long journey to Ibaloi ahead of us, but we paid it no mind. As we walked, we played our instruments and sang songs to ease the road's weariness.
It would take a day and a half to reach the small tribe of Malatarlak, where we would rest for a night before continuing our journey north to Ibaloi. If we did not stop in the Kingdom of Kabuluan — a rich realm nestled between the northern and southern mountains — the return would take another full day.
"So it's true, Yumi?" Ilay teased, waving her sash through the air. "You were caught by the Princess while sneaking around the Raja's courtyard? Isn't she supposed to be terrifying — a warrior so fierce that even men tremble before her?"
I chuckled softly and shook my head. "You make her sound like an enchantress, Ilay. True, she's a fearsome being — unmatched with her bolo and bow — but she's still human, with weaknesses like anyone else. Still…" I paused as we crossed a line of uneven stones. "I wouldn't dare underestimate her. Even I was shaken by how she looked at me last night."
The sun climbed higher until it burned overhead. Lira's group lagged behind, having stopped by a stream to rest and drink.
Ilay giggled and turned to me with a mischievous grin. "So? Tell me the truth — is she truly as beautiful as they say? Can she really rival the handsomeness of the Moon God or the grace of the Goddess of War?"
Her playful curiosity made me laugh, but I nodded.
"The rumors are true. She's beautiful — eyes as bright as the stars, and even when covered in dirt and blood, she still looked as delicate as a sacred relic that could crumble at the slightest touch."
"What do you mean by that?"
"I don't know," I said softly. "But when I looked into her eyes, I saw more than pride and strength. I saw a child — longing to be accepted, to be loved."
And those things, I realized, would be the keys to her undoing.
A faint smile curved on my lips — one laced with malice. Deep within me, the hunger for vengeance stirred again. I longed to see her fall. To see both her and her brother, the Raja, suffer as I had.
Ilay cast me a knowing glance but said nothing. She turned back toward the trail, shading her eyes with her hand as she scanned the distant northern path.
"Well," she said after a moment, "the other side of that mountain is Malatarlak. If the others rest any longer, night will catch us before we get there."
I followed her gaze. She was right — our destination was near. Only two days remained before the ceremony, and if we continued at this pace, I might not have time to prepare. Worse, if Gagang discovered my escape, everything would be ruined. My last hope for vengeance would vanish before it even began.
"I'll go call for them—"
"No need," said Lira, appearing behind me. "We're here. Let's keep moving. I don't want to face another long scolding from Mother."
She patted my shoulder and walked past me to join Ilay. I followed close behind.
By the time we reached Malatarlak, the sun had nearly set. When we arrived at the lodging house in the heart of the tribe, night had fully fallen. We shared a hearty meal — boiled sweet potatoes, a whole roasted chicken, and bowls of rice. The night was lively with laughter, music, and dancing. It became a small celebration, joined even by the traveling merchants who had stopped to rest. Malatarlak was a joyful place — a bridge between Kabuluan and Maynila, thriving on peace and trade.
By the tenth hour, silence returned. The others were fast asleep, but I chose to stay outside, watching the sky.
The heavens were clear — filled with stars that reminded me of a night I tried so hard to forget yet could never erase. The constellation of the hunter was visible, its left knee marked by a bright star.
"Sixteen years," I whispered into the wind. "It's hard to believe that so much time has passed. Yet in my heart, it still feels like yesterday, Mother."
I smiled faintly, though my chest ached. "I don't know how the years slipped away so quickly — how I became a woman without even realizing it. In a few more years, I could have been a wife, a mother... but that can never happen. Not until I avenge our tribe."
My thoughts drifted back to the night that ended it all — the last night I remembered of Tondo.
Father had returned home with a bountiful catch. Mother was cooking dinner, and I sat beside her, reading from the Book of Mysteries. It contained spells and charms that she had begun teaching me. Mother was a babaylan, a priestess and healer — skilled in sacred magic. But there was one power she never wished to pass down: the curse transference spell.
It was a dangerous ritual, one that required a living vessel to inherit the curse. The ritual demanded precision — the wrong vessel would doom both caster and host. And there could only be one vessel, chosen by fate.
This was one of the forbidden dark arts of Tondo.
That night, I had grown restless and set aside my books. As I closed the chest, I caught sight of a worn, forbidden tome — one Mother had forbidden me to read. Its presence tempted me, as it always had. Though I knew the danger, I felt its pull. I had read from it once before — enough to know its power — and that was more than enough to heed her warning.
The night was peaceful. Serene. Who could have imagined that, under the care of our kind Datu — a trusted friend of the late Raja of Maynila — our tribe would face ruin before dawn?
In a blink, the air filled with screams. Houses burst into flames. Confusion swallowed me whole as Mother held me tight.
The warriors of Maynila — the empire once allied with our tribe — were the ones destroying our home. Arrows rained down on the innocent. Bolos and spears slashed through flesh. The blazing torches devoured everything they touched.
"Kill the witch! Burn Tondo to the ground!"
Those were the only words I remembered — the only fragments I had left to make sense of the horror.
The waves of memory dragged me under. I inhaled deeply and forced back the tears threatening to fall. Then, I stood.
"The time is near, Mother," I whispered. "Soon, I will have my answers."
Quietly, I returned to the hut where my companions slept. I lay beside them, careful not to wake the sisters.
Before surrendering myself to sleep, I made a vow — a vow that burned deep in my chest.
I will return, Manila.