Realm of Thorns

Echoes of Fear

The warm glow of the late afternoon sun filtered through the windows of Joaquin's living room, casting soft shadows on the walls. Marco and Joaquin sat on the floor, cross-legged, their eyes wide with curiosity as Joaquin's mother leaned back on the couch. She had a gentle smile, her voice laced with both mystery and a playful edge as she wove her story.

"Tikbalangs," she began, her voice soft but deliberate, "are warriors. Not just any kind, but guardians of their territories. They protect their lands by ensuring no one strays too far into the unknown. But they don't do it with strength alone. No, they confuse travelers, turn the paths upside down, and play with their minds. They feed off fear," she said, her voice dropping into a low, almost teasing tone, "and they take great joy in watching people panic, lost and scared."

The boys shifted, Marco raising an eyebrow. "Feed off fear?" he repeated, a mix of excitement and dread filling his voice. "That's creepy."

Joaquin's mother chuckled softly. "Yes, they enjoy the confusion they cause. It gives them power. But," she paused, leaning in closer as if sharing a secret, "like everything in this world, they too have a weakness."

Marco leaned forward eagerly. "What's their weakness, Tita?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper, as if afraid someone else might hear.

"In their mane," she explained, "there are a few rare strands of golden hair. If you manage to pull one of them, you'll gain power over the tikbalang."

"Power?" Joaquin echoed, his brows furrowing. "Does that mean the golden hair gives you strength, Mama?"

His mother smiled, a knowing glint in her eye. "Not quite, Joaquin," she said, shaking her head. "It doesn't give you strength. It gives you control over the tikbalang itself."

Marco's eyes widened with excitement. "So, you can make them your pet?"

Joaquin's mother laughed lightly at the thought. "Oh, no, Marco. They're not pets. Remember, they're warriors, bound by a code. If you hold their golden hair, they are sworn to protect you, to serve as your guardian. But they are far from being pets. They follow, yes, but they're not there to be tamed."

Joaquin jumped to his feet, his imagination running wild. "So, if I have a tikbalang, I'll have a warrior at my side! Like a bodyguard!" He threw a few mock punches in the air, his enthusiasm contagious as Marco joined him, mimicking the same motions.

His mother watched them with a soft smile, but there was a seriousness that lingered in her voice. "Partly true," she said, watching as Joaquin stopped mid-punch, curious at her tone.

"What do you mean, Mama?" Joaquin asked, lowering his fists, his face puzzled.

She leaned forward, her expression thoughtful. "Tikbalangs may be warriors, yes, but they aren't physically strong. They may look tall and fearsome, but in reality, they rely on trickery and fear because they aren't made for direct confrontation. That's why they scare their enemies rather than face them in a fight. It's more of a defense than anything."

"Can we defeat a tikbalang then, Tita?" Marco asked, the adventurous gleam in his eyes undiminished.

Joaquin's mother hesitated, her gaze far off for a moment, as if recalling old memories. "You can," she answered slowly, "but only if you can keep your fear in check. And," her voice lowered with gravity, "only if it's alone."

Joaquin exchanged a glance with Marco. "Alone? Why does that matter?"

His mother's smile faded into something more somber. "Because tikbalangs rarely travel alone. They almost always come in pairs."

Marco frowned, confused. "But you said they're weak."

"They are, individually," she said, her voice soft but full of caution. "But a tikbalang grows much stronger when it has a companion to protect. Their bond, their instinct to guard each other, makes them a force to be reckoned with. One tikbalang, you might face. Two... well, you'd better hope you never meet two."