*AUTHORS NOTES*
Han DJ: No need to apologize, tol. I too agree that Andres should be hailed as our National Hero given the fact that he was a revolutionist all his life, while dearly beloved 'Pepe' used to be a reformist during his 'ilustrado' days. Oh and he spoke Filipino. Remember the lines: "And hindi marunong magmahal sa sariling wika ay higit pa sa hayop at malansang isda". It's just that he lived in Spain mot of his life that's why most of his works are written in Espanyol.
And yes! Intramuros remains untouched save for a few losses of buildings due to the WW2, when those dastardly Japanese soldiers bombed Manila even though it was declared an OPEN CITY. Yes, she likes to daydream agad. Haha. Ilusyonada si lola
Dream Shadower and krugern: Thank you! Your reviews are greatly appreciated! Hope you'll continue to read this story. Dream Shadower – yes and more parties will come to a BANG!
Krugern – the wind seems to be following Natsuki, right? Don't you think that's quite suspicious…Could she be affiliated with nature? A sort of living totem, perhaps? I shan't spoil it for you though
Foxpassed – Salamat! Yes, I have noticed that. It is a rushed chapter and I will reread and perhaps, rewrite it after my exams on Tuesday. I will try to find myself a beta. Perhaps, you could recommend someone? It's only the Spanish's food that Nao defiles hehe.
E.M Praetorian: Salamat! To tell you the truth, I hope to keep the pacing fast but at the same, put lots of shiznat interaction in it. More twists and turns await Shizuru as she finds out who Natsuki really is.
Kieli- Yesh, the beta will follow :3 Salamat for the review!
SALAMAT TO EVERYONE! DICTIONARY IS BELOW THE PAGE!
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CHAPTER5
A WORD OF CAUTION (ISANG BABALA)
Memories of her first meeting with Natsuki flooded Shizuru's mind as she lay in her bed, smiling wide awake. Her brown mane formed swirls on her pillow. She closed her eyes and let the cold wind caress her, like the flowing waters of the Pasig that stroked her pale skin that faithful night when she crept under the shade of a tree near the river bank to watch the moon, the stars, and the water.
-
A hand came out of the white foams. Her breathing stopped. Her heart stopped shouting.
From underneath the waves and the white foams, arose a slender figure of a woman with long flowing hair that was darker than the night, and more fluid that the Pasig's water. She stood magnificently, her form elucidated by the light of the moon and stars. Her head was raised, looking up to the moon, exulting and chanting strange ancient prayers with her arms raised up to the heavens. Her bare shoulders were golden under the moonlight. The long black tresses hid the most sacred parts of her body.
Shizuru lifted the hem of her long dress and with careful steps, slowly walked nearer towards the muddy banks of the Pasig. She accidentally stepped on a rock and Oh! The silly dear! Oh! Poor dear! Oh the dread in her eyes! For she quickly slid down the muddy banks, the rocks scraping and slightly tearing her dress, down, down, down until she tumbled into the cold water, just a few inches away from the muse who now gazed at Shizuru with cold but remarkable eyes.
Swirl after swirl of jet black fell upon her pale face. Her emerald eyes searched for answers through the darkness of the night and through those living red orbs that stared back at her. Raven tresses united with the dark colored water of the Pasig river. She stood as splendid as the full moon above! Like a virgin! Santa Maria! Like the Virgin that rode out through a holy dark night across the city while people, young and old alike, walked with her with lit candles in hand. She was the moon and people were merely stars, made to illuminate her and make her beauty stand out even more in the darkness! Her face growing more radiant and ethereal as alitaptaps rushed upon her, and forming stunning rays of light around her that she seemed to be cloaked with the starry beautiful night sky above - the fireflies encircling her like the stars as if in sheer adoration – she was the moon! The fireflies, the stars! I am in heaven! She is the Goddess! Shizuru thought to herself. And Shizuru would sink down into her knees and bring her face upon the feet of the beauty in front of her and kiss, kiss, kiss those sacred soles, kiss kiss kiss and adore her and praise her in between kisses. But she was not worthy.
"Sino ako? (Who am I?") The woman asked Shizuru with a very low but feminine voice. Shizuru was flabbergasted. She marveled at the beauty of the speaker and cogent thoughts dissolved from her head as the only sense of the body - of seeing, of sight, and site to see – was the only thing that she held important.
"What do you want? Why are you here?" The muse spoke once again with emerald eyes that seemed to peer through her soul.
"You are…the muse of the Pasig. I…I am." Shizuru replied meekly
"Am I?"
"Aren't you?"
"I am who I am. I am who the people call me." Shizuru could not understand. The muse's words were cryptic. Her vivid green eyes stared at Shizuru, unblinking and without a trace of emotion.
"Then you are the music of the river!"
"When the soul departs from the body and it is deemed to have done the highest good, then it becomes one with nature and unto the element from which Bathala forged the soul, it shall return." Without warning, the muse fell on her knees, her eyes turned all white and once again, she was chanting strange prayers. Shizuru did not know what to do. The Muse seemed to be in a trance. And then green orbs appeared again but this time, the muse seemed more human.
"Who the hell are you?!" The muse barked at her.
"I-"
"Go away! Get away from me!" As the muse said this, the waves rapidly grew bigger as if reflecting the muse's anger. But the fury of the water died down when its master suddenly made a low groaning sound.
"binibini?" Shizuru asked with a more confident voice. And before she could even lay a finger on the muse's shoulder, the muse collapsed and fell into the water with a loud splash. And then, a most peculiar thing happened.
The river's waters became still. But the moon began to shine mischievously again and the wind began to kiss the river as if it was waking it from its slumber. The waters began to flow, creating criss cross patterns. But this time, the water gushed towards the opposite direction. Shizuru began to frantically search for the muse but all that she found was dark, dark water, seeping through her fingers. And then she noticed that the waves began to form strange patterns like the clouds and their peculiar shapes. The waves seemed to have formed a million hands, pushing the muse away from her. She tried to chase the muse but alas! The waves were to fast, the watery hands were too many and after a while Shizuru sat by the muddy river bank, panting and starry eyed. The moon seemed to laugh at her as it shined gleefully above her, twinkling like a star.
'I lost to the moon.'
The carriage drove carelessly through the cobble stone streets of Manila. Don Perfecto was shouting insults at the kutsero. Shizuru was trying to read a Physics book but the vehicle's constant rattling prevented her from reading.
At last the torture finally ended. The carriage came to a halt and Don Perfecto shakily stepped out of the carriage's vermillion colored doors, marched towards the kutsero and slapped him across the face. The kutsero miserably looked at the Don with apologetic eyes. The Don stared at the kutsero like an angry cat. Shizuru exited the carriage with a slight headache.
"Papa, I must go to school now." The don looked at her with a 'catty' smile on his face.
"Take care, my dear." She kissed the don's left cheek and entered the school's premises.
"Could you please pass the salt?" Natsuki gently took the small coconut husk in front of her and handed it over to the middle aged man she was sitting next to. He wiped the sticky sweet rice on his finger with his handkerchief and took the dark brown shell from Natsuki's slightly calloused hands.
"Maraming Salamat ho!" Natsuki nodded in reply as she neatly folded the sleeves of her red sarong. She was seated at the end of the table, watching the people eat, as she patiently waited for her Lumpiang Ubod to be served. After a few minutes, the kusinera handed Natsuki her order, tidily wrapped in a banana leaf. The karinderya, the Filipino version of the fast-food, is perhaps one of the oldest forms of businesses in the Pearl of the Orient. It was a haven for starving souls – the food was nutritious, delicious, and more importantly, the menu wasn't costly. She and six more famished souls were seated around the rectangular table which was wide enough for them to prop their elbows on, but too low for the usage of a chair. So they all sat on the wet, damp grass. The mouth watering aroma of the food overpowered all the other scents of the busy city of Manila.
"Narcissa, I'm making some Sinigang tonight." Encarnacion Ramires, the kindhearted forty four year old owner and cook of the karinderya, told Natsuki.
"Oi! Manang naman! My name is Natsuki, not Narcissa. Sinigang na Baboy? Or Sinigang na Bangus?"
"O siya, siya. Natsuki, Sinigang na baboy." Encarnacion said through bursts of laughters. She had always adored the young woman's gruffness. Natsuki was Encarnacion's suki or best customer. The young Filipina eats all her meals in Encarnacion's karinderya. Unfortunately for Natsuki, Bathala did not bless her with the ability to cook, or even fry an egg properly. And so Encarnacion Ramires was her stomach's salvation.
"Save me a bowl or two, Manang ha?" Natsuki said as she licked the tiny bits of the sweet lumpia on her lips. Natsuki stood up and patted the food bits off of her clothes.
"Be careful, nene." Encarnacion said with a warm smile on her face. The wrinkles on the old woman's face always disappear when she smiles. Natsuki nodded, flicked her long flowing hair with her right hand, and wolfishly walked away from the karinderya.
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The ringing of the chapel's bells meant that it was time for the people to recite the Angelus, and more importantly, it was Lunch break. And so when the cling-clang of the bells came buzzing through the classrooms, the students, who were suffering from their daily dose of philosophy lectures, were recuperated, as if some miraculous choir of angels beckoned them to rise up from the dead. They lifted the hem of their skirts and quickly headed for the dark brown stair cases. A parade of laces, and colorful long dresses descended the stairs. The cafeteria was once again filled to bursting with fresh, prim, young señoritas – noble pure blooded Filipinos or Principales, mestizas, and peninsulares.
The girls sat with their friends, giggling and talking with each other while they snacked on their lunches. The nuns that patrolled the cafeteria were like guwardiya sibils marching through the streets of the city, reminding the girls to 'act like ladies' 'and behave like gentle women'. But of course, the lasses paid no attention to their monotonous lectures. A certain old woman crept towards the cafeteria with broom in one hand, and with dustpan in the other. She was short in stature and the brown skin that clung to her thin bones was wrinkled.
"How old is she?" curly-haired Gertrudes asked one of her friends.
"I don't really know…but my, is she an antique. Just look at that skin!" Seferina commented.
"Do you know how old she is, Ate Viola?"
"Ara! I don't really know Gertrudes, dear."
"You know…" Brigida said in faint voice, barely audible to her friends. "They say that old woman, Manang Elvira, is actually an apo."
"What's an apo, ate Shizuru?" Gertrudes asked Shizuru once again with bright, round eyes.
"An apo is an Ancient or a village elder. An apo is considered to be a sort of wise man by the Filipinos. An old sage, to be exact." The other girls replied with an 'Oh', clearly astonished by Shizuru's knowledge of the Filipino culture.
"What's she doing here then?" Seferina asked.
"To sweep the floors, you dummy!" Gertrudes replied in a rather loud voice.
"Señorita Quilino, mind your manners!" one of the nuns scolded in a sharp tone and Gertudes Quilino sank to her seat and hid herself behind one of her friends.
"She's a convert." Brigida continued. "The old woman is considered by the natives to be among the wisest of their kind. I think her being a 'Catholic' is just a cover to get her into Manila."
"How do you know all of this, Brigida?" Shizuru asked.
"I heard the nuns talking about her when I was praying in the chapel one day."
"That means…she knows a lot about the old religion and the legends of the land, am I correct?"
"I'd bet my bottom dollar she knows all of them by heart, ate Viola!" Brigida said before biting into the soft bread of her sandwich.
For the next few minutes, Shizuru stared at Elvira. She watched as the old woman swept the floor with her broom and silently cursed the girls for littering on the tables and on the floors. Lunch time ended, and with heavy sighs, the girls returned to their classroom in a manner completely parallel to the way they descended the stairs. They climbed up lazily, slouching as they ascended the staircase.
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"Magandang araw ho, Manang Elvira." Shizuru smiled at the old woman, who was sitting on a rock, in the school's flowery garden. It was five o'clock. Three minutes ago, the chapel's bells rang to signal the students' dismissal. And with great haste, for most of them if not all were dying to go home already, descended the school's stairs, passed familiar cream colored corridors and walls, and exited through the steel gates where kalesas and carriages awaited them. Shizuru, eccentric as always, was in no mood to go home. She wanted to know more about the archipelago. The stories that her mother had told her did not satisfy her curiosity and now, she found Elvira, and she prayed that the old sage would be able to answer her questions.
"How can this old woman be of service to you, Señorita Viola?" manang Elvira asked.
"Manang Elvira, what do you know of the Muse of the Pasig River?"
"I know not much about the mother river's muse, child. She sails the river every night. The moon serves as her boat. She is the cause of the river's abundance. She washes and combs her hair on the riverbanks and so a part of her beauty is shared by the river. She sanctifies the river with her power every night so that the river may continue to give fish to the people for as long as it flows. In the morning, she retreats to her home. Her home is the sacred cave near the river Pasig."
"Who is she, Manang Elvira?"
"I know not who she is. Only that she is the muse of the river. If you wish to learn more about the old religion, seek a babaylan. I am but an apo. And we apos' have limited knowledge about the gods."
Shizuru was rather disappointed. Nevertheless, she thanked the old woman for her time and for sharing her knowledge.
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"A word of caution to this tale of beauty, my dear." Shizuru turned around to face Elvira.
"She who is sensual can also be cruel. Be wary of the muse my dear for she will drink your blood, eat your heart, and take your soul." Shizuru's blood ran cold.
"Manang Elvira, why would she do that?"
"For the river to flow freely there must be a sacrifice. For as nature dictates it, one must give up something in order to gain something in return. Thus, the souls of the holy dead are the life of the river Pasig. And they thrive underneath the waves, underneath the foams, underneath the moonlit sky."
"Manang Elvira…"
"Yes my dear?"
"But you are wrong, Manang Elvira. For I have seen the muse already…and yet, she did not lay claim on my soul. She did not drink my blood, nor did she eat my heart."
Silence. And then Manang Elvira gazed at Shizuru with a worried look on her face.
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"Then await her coming, and make good with the God that you worship for she shall lay claim on your soul, soon."
The wind was singing the songs of the ancients into her ears again.
Natsuki walked across the pavement, her wooden slippers making scratchy noises as she slowly walked across the cobble stoned floor. "Alas singko y medya…" she said to no one in particular.
Shizuru passed the familiar corridors of Collegio de La Immaculada Concepcion De La Concordia with ease. The school was almost empty now. The students had gone home and only the nuns were left in the campus. She passed the beautiful fountain of the Lady of the Immaculate Conception and made her way towards the dark steel gate. The guwardiya took of his cap as greeting and opened the heavy steel doors for her.
She was about to ride a kalesa when she saw the familiar jet black hair and waving sarong. She was overcome with intense happiness as she began to walk towards Natsuki who was leaning on the metal gates of the school building. The raven haired beauty was staring at something a few miles in front of her.
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FWOOM! The nearby garrison burst into flames! Chips of dark burning wood and chunks of bricks flew in the air, scattering through the cobble stone streets. People frantically ran away from the burning establishment. Curses were exchanged. Cries for help echoed through the air as the flames brushed the heavens with their fiery tips. Black smoke filled the area like fog on a rainy eve. Shizuru stood aghast at the infernal scene. She turned her head to look at Natsuki who was still staring at the same direction with a coy smile on her face; without the slightest trace of surprise in her face.
And then with a flick and swirl of raven hair, green fell upon red eyes once more, eyes that were redder than the flares destroying the garrison.
"Shizuru."
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'A word of caution to this tale of beauty.'
DICTIONARY:
Sarong - the south east asian version of the tunic. A traditional dress worn by Filipino men and women
Puruntong - pants
Manang - Younger people call older people manang/manong as a form of respect.
Lumpiang Ubod - a Filipino vegetable dish similar to spring rolls.
Sinigang - a sour Filipino dish. Sinigang na baboy is PORK SINIGANG while SINIGANG NA BANGUS is milk fish sinigang
nene - young girl
Ate - older sister/big sister. Ate Shizuru is like SHIZURU ONEE SAMA!
Babaylan - priestess of the ancient Filipinos.
kusinera - cook
Alas Singko y Medya - Five thirty