Kuro: A Land in Eternal Night

Chapter 24.1: To Tame a Tikbalang

Kulas

The crickets continued their incessant chirping in the darkness, their shrill song filling Kulas' ears like a wall of sound.

At age fifteen, Kulas was more manly than many boys older. He was handsome, in a rugged way, with dark skin, and a slim but nonetheless well muscled and proportioned frame. He stood close to six feet, tall for a Mystikan. He had sharp features, slanted, deep-brown eyes, a round nose, high cheekbones and a thin face. Long locks of black hair hung around his face like a lion's mane.

Kulas hung high above the ground, looking down at the forest with an arm carefully grasping the tendril-like branches of the Balete tree, his legs carefully perched upon the trunk and safely anchoring him to the tree so he could survey his surroundings.

The Balete were very much like the land that they filled – grotesque, gnarled and twisted, like black snakes bound together forcefully, entwined in pain, unable to cry out their deep anguish. Demon's hair, the people of Mystika called them, and they weren't too far off, for the Balete had mystical properties that connected them to the world of demons. The trees acted as conduit to the world beyond, allowing passage between the realms. When Balthasar, the great King of Mystika, closed the nation to the world, it was not to keep the rest of the world out. Rather, it was to protect the world from the dangers of the Balete and the world beyond.

Kulas took a vine and swung around, the wind blowing in his face as the world disappeared in a blur around him. His arms grasped the vines, pulling firmly and surely as he moved toward his objective. He was confident in his bearings, letting go of the vine before he even grabbed the next. He gave the next vine a solid yank and swung himself around to the next Balete. The chirping of the crickets blended in with the sound of the sea. Its deep sigh filled the island with its calm, but lonely melancholy.

Kulas craned his neck to get a better vantage. For as far as he could see, the forest of Balete engulfed him, the deformed trees hemming him in from all sides. In the darkness of Kuro, their appearance was even more sinister. Kulas was not afraid however. He knew these woods like the back of his hand, having grown up playing around them.

Not that every Mystikan had this privilege. The forest of Balete was sacred to Mystika, and only Mystikan royalty was allowed inside. There was one exception, however. As part of the coming of age ceremony, every young man past age fifteen was allowed to come in for one purpose, to tame the Tikbalang.

Such was the very reason Kulas was here today. Kulas had turned fifteen a few short days ago, and in accordance with tradition, there would be no grand party celebrating the event. In its place, there was a preparation ceremony, rituals that were performed with smoke, markings drawn on the skin, invoking the rites of protection.

As the young prince of Mystika and heir to the throne, Kulas had much to live up to. The land was anxious to see the successor to the great king. At the ripe old age of seventy, King Hagibis was nearing the end of his illustrious reign. Mourning the death of his first wife for thirty long years, Hagibis vowed to never remarry. That was, until he met Mutya, then but a young girl of nineteen. It was Mutya who finally bore him a son, ensuring the propagation of the line.

The people were eager to see the new king ascend the throne for obvious reasons. However, there were those that said Kulas was not fit for the throne. The young boy, though strong, handsome and every bit as dashing as a young prince should be, had a fiery temper, and was just as reckless as the young Hagibis had been. Many elders thought Kulas had some learning and growing up to do.

Well, that suited Kulas just fine. He couldn't care less what the village thought of him. He had one goal in mind – adventure! How he yearned to go beyond the island, to discover the world around him. He was tired of the same old people, tired of the village, tired most of all of those damnable Balete trees that they had to constantly keep guard over. Mighty Balthasar must have been out of his mind to make that decree a thousand years ago.

No, he would find a way certainly, to pave the path to the next generation, a freer Mystika, one that would open its doors to the world. There had to be a way to safely open up the Balete to the world. He needed to travel the world to find a way.

But one thing at a time. Today, he needed to find himself a Tikbalang to tame. He had begun his search for one in earnest three days ago, setting out from the village, the villagers paying him no attention as was the custom, for he was no man until he passed the test.

Kulas took his time. The forest was alive with the creatures. They kept their distance from him, wary. Wild Tikbalang did not necessarily want to give up the freedom of the forest. It wasn't as though the opportunity had not come. There were several he could have had by now, but Kulas wasn't going to be satisfied until he found the largest, strongest Tikbalang he could possibly find. After all, the Tikbalang of the great prince of Mystika needed to be great as well.