18. The calm before the plunge

The dark figure on top of the hill tensed.

He was more excited that afraid. Eager to see his kinsmen after centuries of waiting.

But his eagerness is not similar to the eagerness felt by a father who is about to meet his son whom he has not seen for years.

No, he is not eager to see them and hear their stories.

He knows war is about to begin and those who are to come are not on his side.

The lightning bolts struck the ground again. This time, closer to where he stands. The strikes crawl toward him from the shores like a hand scouring the island.

And then it struck just to his right, near the edge of the cliff. Rocks and dirt blew out of its point of impact. The the force of the strike was so fierce that it bore a crater on the ground. Its heat was so intense that even the soaked shrubs nearby caught fire.

The hermit of the mountains stood his ground. He merely gazed at the dust that begins to settle.

From the center of the dust and smoke, drenched by typhoon rains, a figure emerges. Much like the hermit his skin is dark. Not burned from the lightning but naturally black. His hair long and wavy. On his back, a cloak of gray. The howling winds blew on the cloak revealing colored marks on his skin.



Dulled by his pitch black color, the man's tattoos are still discernible.

Slowly, he turns, studying the surroundings and calculating any movements the lone resident of this mountain will make.

Three more lightning bolts hit the mountain. All within the same ground where the mountain hermit stands.

The second figure is a burly man. Taller than the fist who arrived but equally muscular. He too bore marks on his body.

The third is a woman. About 5'7" tall and slim in figure but packs a power to match each and everyone present.

The last to arrive is another woman. Shorter than the other but with eyes that glow with ferocity like the rest.

"You are the last of those that we lost," began the big man. "Your peers are with us now. And they have seen the light of our cause."

"Hmph," the hermit exclaimed smugly. Rain trailing down his face as the winds blew at his hooded cloak. "They have either seen the light of your cause on their way to the afterworld," he said regarding each of the four who stood before him.

"You are mistaken, Mukawen," said the taller of the women. "They are with us."

"It seems that you do not know me that well," he said to the woman. "You may know be by name and by reputation. But you do not know what I do."

As he finished his talk, a fierce wind blew. The wind blew on Mukawen's cloak revealing the marks on his torso. It is the shape of two halves, each half connected by lines crisscrossing to the other side.

The new arrivals froze where they stood.

"Pasaylo," exclaimed the man who arrived first. "So, you can travel. Then why remain here?"

"It is serene here. Peaceful," Mukawen explains, looking at the man.

The taller woman took a step toward Mukawen, the strong winds blowing on her cloak revealing her bare buxom. On top of her right breast, amid markings, he recognized a familiar seal. A seal he has not seen for centuries. The seal of his family.

"Then, can we reason with you or do we force you," asked the buxom woman.

Before Mukawen could answer, the rains stopped. The winds calmed and light shone down from the sun.

"You can try."

As Mukawen gave his answer, a bolt of lightning shot past him. In unison, they all drew their sword. All four taking an aggressive stance toward him. Mukawen, his back toward the edge of the overhang, on the defense.

The first to attack is the smaller of the two women. She swung her kampilan then withdrew. Mukawen took a step back. The bigger man came in next, swinging his kampilan to cut off Mukawen's neck. He missed Mukawen by an inch, cutting off a few locks instead.

The other man followed with an upward swing, again, to Mukawen's neck.

Mukawen twisted his body while he was bent forward. The kampilan strike missed his neck. As he twisted light shone on his arms, creeping to his hands. In his dark palms a dagger materialized. He continued his twist still swinging his dagger-bearing right hand. As he regained his balance, he threw the dagger to the burly man.

The dagger flew toward the big guy. He parried it with his kampilan.

But Mukawen was already charging after the dagger, a gulok forming in his hands that once held the dagger that is now twisting in the air falling into the forest below. Mukawen thrust the dagger toward the big man.

The man froze in his place.

The gulok failed to reach its target. It was parried by a kampilan. Mukawen's kampilan was parried by the woman bearing his family seal.

The woman flicked her hand to aim the sharp edge of the kampilan at Mukawen. But before she can swing it, she was hit by a blast of air that threw her ten feet away.

After blasting his relation with a shock wave from his left hand, Mukawen blasted the bigger man with the same from his right hand. The big man was thrown about five feet away.

Mukawen then turned his attention to the two who remain standing.

The remaining male attacker buried his kampilan on the ground, held it with his right hand and raised his left. As he brought his left hand down, light traced the marking in the sides of his torso. When his palm reached the sword's pummel, light blasted from his palms towards the ground through the kampilan. The ground cracked. The crack raced toward Mukawen.

The overhang broke and began to fall. Mukawen's image shimmered and he was gone.

The man who broke the overhang from the cliff quickly tried to pull out his sword to assume a defensive stance. But before the sword even nudged, Mukawen shimmered in front of him, bent, with both arms held together at the heel of the palm in his right.

As quickly as he appeared, Mukawen thrust his hands forward. His palms impacting squarely on the man's solar plexus. The force threw the man away, leaving his kampilan still planted on the ground.

The smaller woman came charging from behind Mukawen. Her kampilan raised, ready to slice him in two.

Mukawen caught the pummel of the sword and thrust his open palm to the attacker's chest.

The woman immediately let go of the sword with her left hand and parried Mukawen's thrust.

A blast of air hit the ground throwing soil, pebbles, and wet leaves on impact.

The attacking woman flicked her arms from the parry and thrust an open palm at Mukawen's abdomen.

This attack threw Mukawen off his feet. He hit the ground flat on his belly.

The woman saw this opening and swung her kampilan on Mukawen while he is on the ground.

Mukawen rolled to his right to avoid the slash. He then brought his hands up and anchored them on either side of his head while he pulled his knees toward his chest. While pushing the ground with his hands to lift himself up, Mukawen extended his knees hitting the woman on the face with his feet throwing her away. The momentum of his kick and the force of his push raised his body up in the air, landing on his feet. His back toward the flailing woman.

Before he could act, four balls of fire from the direction where his attackers landed flew toward him.

He has nowhere to go. He crouched on the ground and tried to cover himself with his cloak. The fire balls collided in a loud explosion, drying up the ground instantaneously. Burning leaves that were once soaked within a meter from its center.

There was no movement at the center of the flame.

One by one the attackers emerged from the shrubs, swords still drawn except for the man who left his planted on the soil.

The flame was disturbed when something moved it its midst. All four reacted by blasting bolts of lightning on the moving object.

It exploded blasting away burning soil and debris.

Before the four assailants can ascertain the damage, the winds began to pick-up and rains begin to fall.

They started to walk toward the burning crated they created when a lightning struck. The big man disappeared.

"No," shouted the other man as bolt after bolt struck his companions then him. His voice trailed as the gale force habagat blew on the entire place.

The winds started to howl again. Tree that were damaged by the amihan were uprooted. Downtown, roofs were peeled from the rafters, billboards tore, and television antennas bent.

The strong winds put the flame out and blew away debris, clearing the crater. The the charred leaves cleared, what remained is a blacked ornament that once held Mukawen's cloak.