The Land Archaic

Ten - The Will of Bathala

Every wind salted and warm. All under the searing sun but the One who lurkes under the surface.

Alas! What trickery Laang's fate holds and awaits, as his lips touch the salted air as it blew the red sails of Gahaman's old boat forward. Treading the parting waves of the ocean that had loved him, his people, and his Island. But had also taken from him his only god and mentor, his father the Datu.    

     In defeat,

                       he hated the ocean. But what was he worth? But a prickly stone floating in the mouth of these vicious waters. Was he the same?

  Every wind lazy and mourning. As the sun burns its way through their wounded hearts, as Laang thought of his dear mother Iloy. But he thought of her since he and Gahaman and his Iloy's guards sailed North.

"Ask them of this favor in my name

     but without knowledge

            of my husband's death!

Tell them of this mission

     it may well be there last!

       Please, Gahaman!"

What fate awaits these words? What innocence had enveloped his youth that he had not known his mother's last instructions. What did his mother know.

"--Please, Gahaman!

 

             protect my son at all cost!"

Iloy, her pursed lips and red cheeks. Her long black and well kept hair, it was always very beautiful.

       But her words... dreadful. Mysteries lost behind the commands.

What did she know? This Laang wondered, as his eyes ached from the searing daylight. What did his guide, Gahaman took with him in this distress? What secrets!

 

      Every wind coursing due north, there the currents are quick and smooth. As if fate is the god who blows the will of the Maharlikan wind. As if fate brought him into the woods as he was taken abruptly from his mother's nursing breasts. Fate brings us all.

  --Just as fate murdered his father the Datu. But no. There is no fate. Fate did not bring him here in the surface of the salted waters of Maharlika. 

 It was the monster, the godlike serpent! Hungry for the next Bulan, thirsty for the  blood of the next lordling to devour. There was no fate leading him to these unlikely woods.

Only the serpent. The god Bakunawa. Who in time he knows, shall have its fill once more.

"But know only this!

Love the ancient way and be at peace! Pray for your salvation and stand fast!

Kill only what feeds you, Kill only who dishonors you and

Seek none of what your ignorance beseeches!

   This is the will of the God Bathala!"

As Laang recalled the mighty words of his late father; Datu Sari ang Daga.

As he recalled the days that had passed and the earth that had succumbed to waters of the tall sea. His land, Makaraig--

But today he left his home, to sail north. Sailing with Gahaman's old boat, the Winged Snakehead. Leaving behind his mysterious mother Iloy, the lost soul of his dead father Datu Sari-- his childhood. His well loved Alipins. The only island he ever knew alltogether. For he sails towards his fate, but is blind of it.

If this is Bathala's will, then so be it.