Alamat: Pandaguan the First

Chapter 1 - The Rainbow

The scent of herbal medicine lingered in the air, a fine mixture of aromas escaping from half-opened jars of crushed berries, dried leaves and preserved roots decorating the shelf. A half empty bowl and a pestle sat dryly on the table accompanied by nothing but a lone beeswax candle offering what little left of its life to provide enough light to a sitting man clothed by nothing but his bare skin as an elderly babaylan worked on his body, already a canvass of different colors and yet another was being add.

The man marveled at his tattoos as the squinting babaylan traced his skin and injected the ink in shapes of dots, lines and curves with one finger while searing it permanently on his skin with the other, the pain felt nostalgic because for every battle he won another shade of the rainbow was added. Each color a badge of honor for every war he was won, for the times he had a brush with death yet still walks the earth, a proof of his strength and skill.

Red for the blood that was shed, taken and given in battle. The very wine that fuels the life of every warrior and no battle would be seen without it watering the ground. Their swords were the brush and their enemies' blood is the paint in which they convey their art with.

Orange for the sunset, a signal that the battle is over and it is time to rest. Weapons are withdrawn and the dead are retrieved, counted and sent back home to rest. It heralds a moment of peace if surrender has not yet been chosen. Only those who have survived battle under the watch of the sun have attained this color.

Yellow for the majestic cloth of Liadlaw the sun. Battle can only commence under his watchful eye and cursed be the foul ones who declare war under the veil of Libulan, the moon, for night is a time for rest. Liadlaw wields his blades of yellow rays to batter warrior's bodies with heat to test their endurance against nature's might.

Green for the earth's fertility. Every drop of blood that the ground drinks up means another fertile land to plant their crops with, every war followed by a harvest as bountiful as the number of the fallen. A constant reminder that life and death are not opposing forces but instead goes hand in hand, for one life to remain another must yield.

Blue for the sky, the ceiling of their battlefield and the path in which their guardian travel. As long as this shade remains above them the battle continues until one side relents and even if the curtains of clouds cover the sky, it still pass through as the rain that washes away the blood and soften the earth to provide a challenge for those who stand still if they are worthy. The heat of Liadlaw must have left but now they must brave the cold winds.

Violet for the mantle of dawn, the signal that sings the arrival of Liadlaw which means that battle shall commence in a few moments. Many warriors has felt fear at the sight of this shade after a long night of rest and preparation but only those who craft war as an art could marvel at this color's true beauty.

And finally indigo, the paint being tattooed on the man's body, the seventh shade of the rainbow. It is a color rarely found in nature that even gold humbles in its presence. Only the most talented of artisans could ever produce this color and only the greatest of datus could wear this. It is a symbol of the end, the pinnacle of skill, strength and talent, and the ultimate form that one can take.

The man felt a light tap on his shoulder and saw the babaylan smiling at him telling him that it is done. He stood up and wore his bahag, a long piece of cloth, and wrapped it around his waist, it is the tattoos are the ones that they should marvel. He could hear the people singing outside and their instruments playing in celebration for another war has been fought and won and this year would yield another bountiful harvest. He opened the door and a loud cheer roared from the crowd, smiling faces surrounded him and shouted his name in recognition.