Nowhere in the World: Chapter 2

Chapter 2

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It was a clear and warm day in the native lands of the Ma-I Santao village. Their herd of fattened goats grazed the grassy meadows, the water buffalos, or carabaos, browsed near the flowing river outside the harmonious village. Clucking chickens and their brood of chirping chicks littered the area as well as ducks, in another part were sleeping turkeys gathered together by a fence to separate them from the other fowls. Not far was a small pen of snorting hogs, devouring anything the children reached out to them.

A village of golden haired and bronzed skin native people. Men and women wore colorful costumes of different designs, the colors a blend of rainbow patterns and of nature’s shades. Layers of beads and ornaments adorned their hairs, heads, necks, arms, fingers and ankles.

The young ones ran around the sturdy nipa huts, chasing each other. The much older children showed off their swimming prowess to their elders in the river. Some of the men tended the fields, others worked on their weapons or crafting skills. The women tended to the chores, their daughter aiding in their tasks, a means of learning for a promising future as dutiful wives for their future husbands.

Tandang Bulan-in glanced over the hills where a dense forest of overgrowing trees was found. His wrinkled brows furrowed in the middle as he frowned at what he saw straying not far from the edge of the woods.

“Apo!” He called over the gleeful songs of the children near him.

A blonde young man stood up from a crowd of youths gathered in a circle around the village prophet, Tandang Tapang, no doubt listening to tails of his prowess as a warrior in his younger days. But, alas, old age has blinded him. But there was a tale to his loss of sight. Everyone believed that a mutya, or a sorceress, had given him something more important than his eyes could ever be. It was the gift to see into the future. It was one of the favorite stories of the people in the village, something they loved hearing again and again during bonfire night where each one was to share a tale from their life’s experience.

Bulan-in’s youngest grandson approached him in front of his nipa hut, grinning widely with mischief in his glittering amber eyes. “You called, Lolo Tanda?”

“Watch your tongue boy!” Bulan-in snapped. “That’s no way to talk to your elders.” He reprimanded. “Go to the forest’s edge and bring back the two young ones. They should know better than to wander close to the woods.”

“Yes, yes.” The young man nodded in exasperation, rolling his amber eyes as he walked over to the outskirts of the village. “Nagging old man.” He mumbled, and then chuckled to himself. “Hoy! You two what are you doing here? You’ll disturb the tamawo residing in that lunok.” He called to the two little boys poking a stick at one of the old trees, using the old tale told him in his toddler years. A bedtime story used to put small children in their place when misbehaving.

“Ah! Kuya Araya! Look what we saw up there!” Replied the smallest boy, pointing a chubby hand at the lowest tree branch.

He looked up, following the direction of the boy’s finger. Hiding behind the leaves of the branch was no other than a long-tailed monkey the children were so fond of catching for pets. This particular one looked too grumpy to let it be caught easily. They were rather friendly creatures during the night where the hunt for their usual diet was easier.

Araya’s senses picked up. Something was a little different. He couldn’t make sure what it was until he had the two boys back into the safety of the settlement. His years of training as a warrior had given him the honor of being one of the best fighters in their tribe.

“Ah! You don’t want to catch that one. You must’ve have disturbed it from his sleep. Go now, Tandang Tapang is telling tales of his skills.” He coaxed, turning the two toddlers around and gave them a slight push. The mention of the elder’s name was enough to get them running back to the village.

Glancing at the herd of carabaos grazing near the river, Araya noticed that the water buffaloes had taken a different course. They were nearer to village than they usually dared to wander. Even the goats were moving about restlessly, their narrow heads turning here and there instead of nibbling idly on the grass. And then he saw it.

He ran forward just as a movement caught his eye, mingling among the carabaos, their human bodies covered in black mud to become one with the herd of buffaloes.

“Manlulusob!” Araya yelled on top of his lungs to warn his tribe.

That one cry was enough to alert everyone into taking action. The old, women and children were ushered into the safety of the nipa huts while the warriors took out their weapons and shields to defend their territory. For the safety of their tribe, they would do anything to protect it.

The village seldom had intruders trespassing into their lands, and if there were, the warriors made sure the invaders never left the pasture to tell anyone of their whereabouts.

One of the mud-covered intruders jumped up from the herd of buffaloes and started whipping the beasts across the flanks with a bamboo twig. The fibrous leaves still attached to it were dangerously sharp and sure enough, it cut gashes on the carabaos sides. The pain made them tense. More mud-covered invaders emerged with shrill war cries from the woods. There was a clan of them advancing in.

Araya’s attention was on the few who were so engrossed on whipping the carabaos. He knew their intention. And his guess had been right when the herd started to thrash about and stampede for the direction of the village. He had no worry over the safety of the village; his brothers and the other warriors could defend the tribe well.

“Oh, no, you don’t.” He mumbled under his breath, running for the direction of the stampede. He skidded just on the outskirts of the village and rooted his feet on the ground, spreading his arms out on each side in a restraining stance.

The shepherds had trained these beasts well, there shouldn’t be any difficulty in turning them. He waited, and waited… just as the herd was getting near, he let out a startling cry that soon had the head of the herd taking another route. A route that led out into the field. The others soon followed their leader. Araya will leave the herd tenders to get them back later, he still had to face---

“Aaaiyyeeee!”

Araya jumped aside just as a jagged stone blade came down. One of his beaded necklaces got caught and snapped, but none of the two warriors facing each other paid any attention to it.

His mud-covered opponent was holding a straight blade kris of about twenty to twenty-two inches long, a weapon that would have been described as a sword but was actually a long knife of differing lengths from eighteen to twenty-six inches. Araya realized, with chagrin, that he had left his weapon in his hut along with the gunong, or punal de kris, a dagger version of the kris he usually carried around.

So in all unfairness, he was unarmed much to the delight of his opponent who now noticed. But Araya was known and praised in his village for his skills in arm combat as well as with weapons. He was no less one of the best there was, armed or unarmed.

He was still tangled in a fight with his first opponent when another decided to join in. Soon, Araya noticed that they were trying to outnumber him as they had recognized him a formidable enemy. If these kept up, they would defeat him in a matter of moments and the other warriors of his tribe were handling more than their share of invaders.

Araya cried up to the heavens as he fought all three opponents at the same time. Another one was approaching from behind him. Finally, he saw several of his tribe’s warriors finishing off their opponents and was making their way for him.

The heaven’s suddenly rumbled angrily, almost startling Araya in his concentration on the enemy. His fourth opponent let out another shrill cry of victory, startling Araya around, before a bright light flashed in the horizon and the mud-covered invader that sneaked up on him went down as something fell from the skies and landed on top him.

Araya broke free from his three subjugators and threw them away, one of the enemy krises in his hand, stained with new blood. All three never stirred as thy hit the ground. He looked around and saw all the invaders defeated and none from his village was harmed. Gazing down, he blinked at what lay sprawled by his feet and gave another blink again.

“Araya!” Called one of the warriors when they finally reached him. They all stopped on their tracks when they saw what he was staring at.

“Libang.” Araya absently nodded at his older brother before squatting down next to the sprawled bodies, one on top the other. “Take lutak, he’s still alive.” He motioned for two younger warriors to come forward and pointed at the mud-covered invader who was flattened out on the ground.

“Not for long.” Confirmed Libang as he sneered and unsheathed his kris, the engraved metal glinting against the sunlight despite the bloodstains.

Fortunately the enemy was unconscious, he would never feel the pain as his life’s blood seeped out from his neck. Libang made a clean cut and then turned back to his brother who was still peering curiously at the visitor from the sky.

“What is it, Araya?” Asked a warrior.

“Not ‘what is it,’ ‘who is it.’ She fell from the skies.” Araya answered, his surprise was evident when at closer inspection he noticed the feminine angle of the face, the long lashes, and the two unmistakable mounds on the chest.

A female.

He poked a finger at the unconscious form. She didn’t move.

She was comparatively different than any of the natives they had seen before. They all had dark hair, eyes, skin and were somewhat shorter in stature. This one was dark haired, black like the night but she was undecidedly pale in complexion. And her clothes were odd to look upon, the costume hugging her slender form. A strange-looking bundle was strapped around one shoulder.

“Could she be a deity?” Asked a second warrior. “We did hear you call out to the heavens.”

“She doesn’t look like she belongs to any of the nearby tribes.” Commented another as they all gathered around.

“What say you, Libang?” Araya asked his older brother who was listening and watching them in silence.

The warrior gave a shrug. “I can’t execute her if she is from the heavens, and we won’t know anything if she doesn’t wake up soon.” He answered. “But then, pick her up and bring her back with us to the village. Tandang Tapang may know something.”

Araya nodded. He removed the strap that connected to the strange sack and lifted the girl in his arms. One of the warriors took the sack and brought it along with them as they made their way back to the village. He glanced down at the girl. She was light for someone who seem to have a well honed form, his palms feeling the firm muscles of her back, arms and legs. Her complexion was smooth, not like any of the village women he knew who worked day and night for their living.

Was she a pampered princess from somewhere? Araya wondered. She wore no jewelry to indicate her status.

Funny, but her hair was slightly damp and the length shorter than anyone he’s had ever seen, especially on a female. Parted to one side, the major front portion was longer than the back.

At their arrival, the women and children started coming out of the huts to come and congratulate them, but their acclamation stopped at mid-praise when their gazes fell on the girl. Their joy immediately turned into curiosity. The children came and poked a finger at the unconscious foreigner, gawking at her pale, milky skin.

“Quick, call Tandang Tapang.” said Araya when everyone just crowded around him preventing him from taking another step farther. “Aiyaa, stop probing and summon the prophet elder, bata.”

“O-opo!” Answered a young boy whom Araya recognized as one of Libang’s pupils in becoming a warrior. The young one dashed towards the nipa hut at the very end of the village. “Tandang Tapang! Tandang Tapang! Come quick, kuya Araya has brought a strange girl into the village!” He called the moment he burst into the elder’s hut.

“Hush, boy! Don’t yell so loud.” Replied Tandang Tapang, coming out from behind a wall of bamboo stilts and nipa. Being blind a quarter of his life had made his hearing more sensitive that the slightest sound reached him. Having someone yelling so close was nearly a torture to his ears. “Come, come, bring me to him.” He said, gesturing for the boy to guide him out.

“No need, Tandang Tapang. Kuya Araya is bringing her here.” He replied sounding a little excited. He turned and saw the warrior slowly edging over to the hut with the village people still mobbing around him. “Hoy! Let him pass!” He called.

The people stood aside and let Araya pass through but they still followed him close behind. Feeling somewhat relieved, Araya paid a greeting to the elder before placing the girl on the old man’s bed of rattan mat. Fortunately, the people didn’t follow him in but hovered just outside.

Tandang Tapang shook his head with the thinning white hair when he heard the buzzing of voices. “Some of you bury the dead sa gubat.”

Only the warriors who had seen the girl already left the crowd to gather the bodies loitering the village.

“Tell me, Araya.”

Araya nodded, his eyes never leaving the girl who lay insentient on the dark brown mat, her dark head against the square-sized pillows with the colorful patterns. The head cushions stuffed with the filling of a doldol tree’s produce. Her plain colored attire was a contrast to the intricate designs of the pillows.

“Oho. While we were fighting the invaders I cried up to the heavens. And just before one of them snuck up behind me, the sky rumbled with thunder and she fell on top of the enemy. But she was unconscious then.” Araya explained.

“Then you shouldn’t have summoned for me. You should have brought her straight to Porgas, the healer, first.”

Araya ducked his head sheepishly. “I wasn’t thinking. I’ll call for him now.”

“Go, go.” Tandang Tapang pushed him out and closed the door on his back before any of the village people could come in.

Knowing his small, humble abode by memory since he was a youth, he made his way back to where the stranger was left without stumbling on anything or with the help of his cane. His knees touched the edge of his bamboo bed with the rattan mat and he knew where he stood.

Could this be the being I had foreseen in my dreams? The one who comes from a far away land? He thought. If this is the one then the time must be drawing near…

“Tandang Tapang, Tandang Porgas is here.” Called Araya from behind the wall that separated the room from everything else.

“That was fast.” He commented, turning his head to the sound of footsteps on the floor. “Porgas?”

“He was just outside when you sent me.” Araya explained. “Tandang Porgas, this is the girl.”

Without a word, the aged healer approached the katre and probed the petit form lying there. Araya could see that she was breathing normaly, no sign of labored gasps, almost as if she was in a deep sleep. He stepped back when the Tandang Porgas removed something from around her neck and deposited it on the bamboo table within reach. The young warrior eyed it curiously.

It was an anting-anting of copper and gold combined to compliment the other, adorned with multi-colored stones that sparkled like a dozen tiny eyes. The chain was made of glass beads he hadn’t seen before but was somehow familiar. The pattern was intricately made into some sort of symbols written on them, symbols his tribe had never seen before.

Finally, Tandang Porgas eased away. “She is not injured but has a few minor bruises, probably from the fall, that will heall in a day or two.” He explained. “From the heavens, huh?” He asked. “Then by all means, we must not anger the deities. One of the maidens trained in the arts of healing should keep an eye on her— and we should find a better accomodation than here in Tapang’s kubo. He needs the space.”

“Then move her to the healing hut.” Tandang Tapang suggested. “A warrior should stand guard outside. Who knows how many more invaders will come and attack.”

Araya listened to the two old men, one eyebrow raised as they went on with the arrangements. He was then deciding to leave it to them, about to step out when Porgas turned to him.

“Araya, carry her to the healing hut, and as you were the one to find her, you will stand guard this day. Your father, Baragdas, will assign the next warrior for the next day.”

“Haa?” Araya exclaimed, his shoulders sagging. He had hunting plans with Libang and some friends that afternoon.

“No arguments, boy. Tell your father to come to the council hut. There is much to be discussed.” Tandang Tapang said. “Go now, bring the girl then summon for your father.”

The village people were still hovering outside when Araya carefully lifted the girl into his arms. With crisp words from the healer, they made way for the elder and Araya, following right behind like a procession. Araya caught Libang’s questioning look but could only shrug at his brother before ducking inside the healing hut.

Two maidens had hastily prepared the katre with care and now stood fidgeting on one corner of the small room, their curiosity getting the better of them. They remained present until Tandang Porgas ordered them to be useful.

“Leave her here, Araya.” Tandang Porgas said.

The young warrior nodded and went to look for his father, the chief of the Ma-I Santao tribe.

Baragdas Nano-hari was the spitting image of his firstborn, Sanuku. Both were regal, stubborn and arrogant without a doubt, but everyone respected them. Although it was often times to Libang the village people would approach rather than the future chief. Sanuku had a fierce pride about him and superior bearing that intimidated his clansman. The second son, Libang, had the same fierceness and arrogant manner to rival that of his future chief but he knew how to temper it. As for stubbornness, Araya had most of it as well as mischief. The only people in the family to tolerate him were Libang and Tandang Bulan-in, their grandfather. The Nano-hari was of bagani class of noble warriors. They received respect from their clansmen.

The council elders as well as the other tribe officials had been in the council hut for the entire morning. Araya glanced up at the sky, squinting his amber eyes at the bright sun as if expecting the heavens to open up suddenly and add another responsibility into his watch. He had been looking up at the peaceful sky once in a while since the girl had appeared, wondering if she had really come from above.

Obviously she hadn’t flown and fell when she had no wings to carry her but she did have strange things with her. There was the sack for one, her clothes, footwear and the unusual anting-anting that was now well guarded inside the healing hut along with her. Every now and then Araya had to scold the more persistent children from sneaking inside the hut and disturbing whatever that belonged to the girl.

The elderly matron had changed her clothes into their more familiar costumes. He had walked in when the matron had left to launder the girl’s old ones and had seen the sleeping form. She could have passed for any of the native girls at a glance but it was her milky complexion that definitely stood out, and the short hair that was as fine and sleek as a caterpillar’s silken cocoon.

He couldn’t blame the maidens for being so curious as well that they found available excuses to visit the healing hut.

Three days had passes since that day, yet the girl remained sleeping. Tandang Bulan-in had appeared once, saw the anting-anting and left immediately while mumbling something about the fairy people. Tandang Tapang had made it his business to visit everyday, humming incantations and prayers to the deities. He was the elder who had felt a strange and unreadable aura around their new visitor and was often coming to pray it away. He had mentioned that the aura was slowly weakening away but the girl’s condition remained the same.

“Araya.”

The young warrior looked over his shoulder and saw Libang walking towards him with a bamboo jug and something wrapped in banana leaves. His brother looked serious but Araya knew him better and saw the familiar glint in the other man’s eyes. He gave a wave and grinned.

“Balo prepared this, it is time you have your meal. I’ll take over while you eat.” Libang said, giving Araya the jug and the wrapped meal, the food still warm within its cocoon of fresh banana leaves.

“Balo?” Repeated Araya with a knowing grin of his brother’s devoted admirer. “Does she know that you are giving it to me?” He asked teasingly but accepted it otherwise.

“She is but a foolish child who should know better to direct her interest at some other young warrior.” Libang snapped, irritated.

“Whatever you say, Libang.” Araya sighed.

The other line rang four times before someone finally picked up. June could hear a baby cooing in the background and something cackling at the farther back, the stove perhaps?

“Moshi moshi?”

“Mikazaki-san?” June answered. “It’s June. Is Higeno-chan still there?” she asked.

“Higeno?” Echoed the woman on the other line, Tamura Higeno’s mother. “Why, she left about an hour or so ago for swim practice.”

But the swim practice was cancelled today. June thought, her brows furrowing in the middle. She had waited for Higeno at the designated meeting place that afternoon at the bus stop two hours later as agreed and she hadn’t been the bit surprised when she arrived there first. When thirty minutes had passed and still no sign of the quiet Japanese girl, she had gone immediately to the school swimming pool but found the area empty.

“Jun-san, is something the matter?”

“Uh? Ano… iie. Nothing’s the matter, Mikazaki-san. I just called in to check if Higeno left already.” She answered. “We had a little riff last night and well… y’know, I’m hoping to fix it. Well, I’m off to meet her now. Arigatou, Mikazaki-san.” June said, hoping the lie would deter the woman from staying longer on the phone.

“You’re welcome, Jun-san, and I wish you the best of luck. You are Higeno’s only friend after all.” She replied.

“Hai. Sayonara.”

June hung up the phone and stared up at the now clearing sky. After she had checked the school pool area, she had searched the entire campus as well. Ikeda was the last to see Higeno, the pool maintenance had mentioned, so she went looking for him. She had been slightly baffled as to why the young swim instructor looked disturbed to discuss about it but he had answered her hastily before leaving.

Yes, he was the last to see Higeno but he left the pool area first and hadn’t seen her after that. It was unlike Higeno to be late. But nearly an hour had passed since the time they were supposedly to meet.

Tamura Higeno had disappeared.

A child was missing and the mother was frantic. All available men were immediately sent to search for the infant the woman claimed to had left near the forest edge when she was dutifully gathering herbs for her supply. Upon coming back, she had discovered the rattan cradle bag empty with the blanket abandoned a few feet into the forest.

Her boy was still learning to crawl and must have caught something in attention, luring him into the forest and unaware of the dangers than lurked within.

They never would have known that such a prosperous village existed in the midst of the dangerous forest if one of their hunting men hadn’t heard the sounds of clucking hens and the screeching of ducks. He had convinced some of his comrades to accompany him back and that’s when they saw it.

A village of golden people with hair paler than honey and skin as bronzed as the heads of their spears. They had watched on for several days and had witnesses the strength of these people so different from them, and they knew they must do something.

Their tribe had trembled at the news of the forest dwellers; the huntsmen had been obviously hysterical with fear. The council had been doubtful of their sanity and had sent more warriors to locate the place and had come back with the same news with the same panic-stricken reactions.

Their own council had decided to wage an attack when the last spies had reported that these golden people persecuted strangers coming into their territory. They took no prisoners from invaders that trespassed and they have shown no mercy in a fight. There was also the physique to consider. These golden forest dwellers were unaccountably taller unlike the other natives of medium height, more fit and muscular and more skilled in battle. 

It was planned they attack at dawn where the forest dwellers would least expected it.