Pilosopo Casyo took a step forward and Edward took a step back.

"Who are you?" he asked guardedly, his eyebrows furrowing. Despite the fact that we were speaking to a frail old man, his stance in front of me was protective, his arm seeming ready to push me back if needed.

"No need to be so hostile, Mister Cullen," the elder chuckled and shook his head. "I mean no harm. Simply making an observation,"

His eyes went to me and he smiled widely. "I see you're with the lovely Bella as well,"

"I'll ask you again. Who are you?" Edward repeated his question but with less unfriendliness in his tone.

"Caius Anastasyo del Rosario," Pilosopo Casyo replied. "Or Casyo if you prefer. It is what I've been called since I was a boy,"

"And you know who my father is,"

The old man nodded. "Yes. Your resemblance to young Anthony is very uncanny. Of course your mentality is all the more similar,"

Edward remained standing like a statue in his place for a long minute as he processed what he was told.

"If…if you knew him while he was here," he swallowed. "What…can you tell me what happened to him,"

Pilosopo Casyo opened his mouth but then the distant sounds of horses' hooves pounding on the ground assaulted our ears, coming closer as time passed interrupted him.

"Perhaps we can continue this discussion in a place that is more appropriate," he said as he glanced at the horizon. "The last thing we need is Guevarra's guardia sibil overhearing,"

My eyes widened as I glanced at the approaching silhouette. "Those are the guards?"

"Yes. They've been patrolling San Diego more than usual these days," the elder's eyes narrowed. "But that is not of significance for now. Would you like to join me in my home?"

A few minutes later, the three of us sat in Pilosopo Casyo's small hut. It was almost bare except for a few bamboo seats and two tables but his massive collection of books more than compensated for the lack of furniture.

"Would you care for something to drink? Eat? Young Sisa came by this morning with a plate of bibingka she made herself,"

"No, thank you," Edward declined politely.

"Are you sure? I assure you they are quite delicious- "

"Please, may we just carry on with the discussion?" Edward sounded very frustrated as he ran a hand through his already unruly hair.

The old man chuckled. "Very well. You truly are your father, Mister Cullen. He was never one to stop and smell the roses either,"

"Please, just call me Edward. Now what can you tell me about him?"

Pilosopo Casyo sat down on one of the seats and leaned on his cane. "Your father, as you already know, was an enthusiastic young man. Very intelligent, highly intellectual. It was one of the many reasons the ambassador chose him out of many to accompany him on his trip here.

"He was also a very kind soul and had his morals in order. He did not hide his distaste for the discrimination in this country and he as absolutely appalled by how the friars ruled over everybody – even well-meaning government officials.

"However, before his arrival in San Diego, two Dominican priests from Madrid were sent by the king of Spain to act as the head of the church, 'representatives of our Holy Father' they said. I'm sure you have heard of them as they are still here today,"

"You are referring to Father Marcus and Aro," Edward stated.

"Yes, that would be them. At first, the church flourished. Never was that small cathedral more filled than when they gave their sermons, Marcus especially. Many even believed he was God Himself. In the span of a few months, they were the most respected figures in San Diego.

"Apparently that was all that they were waiting for. It did not take long before their true colors showed. They collected exorbitant amounts from the people in exchange for 'saving' them from inferno when they perish. Discrimination amongst social classes also became worse, and those who already had power and arrogance to begin with became even more powerful and arrogant.

"Of course your father, being the man he was, refused to accept what has become of San Diego. He was the only man brave enough to actually stand up to Marcus and the only one who attempted to reach out to the Indios.

"The friars were furious. Here this foreigner was telling them that what they were doing was wrong and that they did not deserve to be called 'holy men.' They feared his ideas would start a rebellion and so Anthony Masen was thrown in jail for many years,"

I gasped and Edward growled low in his throat beside me. Never had I heard of someone – an esteemed person – from a different country being left to rot in prison here.

"Could the ambassador not have done anything?!" Edward cried, outraged.

"Unfortunately, no. He does not hold that kind of power in this country especially with the church controlling the government.

"Well, I suppose you already know of what had become of his body after he died in prison," the elder continued with a sad expression.

Edward shook his head angrily and another growl emanated from his chest. I attempted to calm him by rubbing his back but then froze and pulled my hands away, suddenly remembering that we had an audience.

But Pilosopo Casyo simply smiled. "There is no need to hide your affections here, young Bella. Just watching you as you walked together or sat next to each other was enough to tell me that there is more to your relationship than friendship,"

Like an automatic response, I blushed again and looked down. I heard Edward laugh slightly and I sighed. At least he was calmer.

"Now that that is out of the way, would you like some of the bibingka now?" the old man began to stand. "I'm starving to be quite honest as I hadn't had my merie-"

"I have a few questions, actually. If you don't mind, of course," Edward said.

"I thought you would have," he chuckled and sat back down. "What would those be?"

"How do you know my father, exactly?"

"Oh. Hm…let's see. When was the first time I've met Anthony Masen…ah yes. He came to this house one day in hopes of being able to borrow books for the local children he was tutoring. He hoped that a school accessible by all would be put up in the future but in the meantime, he did what he could. I helped him to the best of my abilities and I suppose we became friends that way.

"When he learned that I was very much against this type of governance, he told me all of his honest opinions of the friars and how he wanted change despite the Philippines being far from his homeland. He was truly a good man, Edward,"

"I know," Edward murmured with a small smile.

"Is that all?"

"Well…" Edward hesitated and glanced at me for a second before continuing. "I do have one more,"

"Go on,"

"It's about…honestly, this question has nothing to do with my father. It has more to do with Isabella,"

Pilosopo Casyo's eyebrows rose. "Alright,"

"You seem to know everything about the events that happened in this town in the past years. Perhaps even before I was born,"

"Yes, I suppose that is correct,"

"So tell me…us," he corrected. "Has…Commander Swan ever been here before?"

"Indeed he has," the elder nodded before looking at me. "And I would guess you are wondering how he relates to young Bella here,"

So there is a relation? Had Edward been right all along? My heart thumped faster.

"We are very interested to know that, yes,"

"Well," the old man paused. "To be honest, I'm not very aware of the story behind that,"

I felt my face fall. Would I be left wondering about who my parents were and what my heritage was?

"But," he held up a finger. "I will tell you something that may be helpful to finding your answer.

"The next time you see the commander, ask him about Renee,"

Guardia sibil – civil guards; part of the military who usually kept the peace

Bibingka – type of sticky rice cake