eye of the moon

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<div id="titleheader"><img src="https://i.imgur.com/ChY7u9e.png"/></div> Recovering from the consequences of a divine war, the pantheon of Kaluwalhatian adjusts to the shared rule of Mayari, the peacekeeping goddess of the moon, and Apolaki, the trailblazing god of the sun. As the deity of lost things, you occupy yourself with discovery and exploration, using your gifts to guide the mortals that pray to you and to find forgotten treasures. But when the truce between the rulers of Kaluwalhatian begins to splinter, deity and mortal alike call on you to restore the balance. Will you make your greatest discovery yet, or will you succumb to the forces threatening to tear the heavens apart? @@.emphasis;Eye of the Moon@@ is an adventure and romance story inspired by Filipino mythology. Written by a Filipina woman, this interactive fiction game is a labor of love about protecting your home, complicated families, and relying on each other. @@.heading2;Features:@@ <ul> <li>an immersive world exploring the Philippines and its rich indigenous mythologies</li> <li>in depth character customization including appearance and personality</li> <li>romances that are integral to the story, with two bisexual love interests and a poly route</li> <li>choices that influence the story and your relationships, with multiple possible endings</li></ul> Eye of the Moon is a work in progress and will be released chapter by chapter. Follow the [[game blog|https://eyeofthemoongame.tumblr.com/]] for the latest updates and extra content. @@.heading1;[[Begin the game|0.1]]@@ @@.footnote;Note: This game is rated M for language, violence, and sexual content. It will eventually include optional explicit content. <<click "How to play">><<toggleclass "#tutorial" "hidden">><</click>>@@<div id="tutorial" class="hidden">Your choices will dictate your Moonfinder's personality, relationships, and ending outcomes. In chapter one, you will make choices to establish your Moonfinder's appearance. Throughout the first few chapters, you will make choices that will determine their personality traits. These will eventually be locked in as the story progresses. When interacting with characters, some responses will receive positive, neutral, or even negative responses. Use what you know to build (or destroy) your relationships with them! Unlocked codex entries, relationship stats, and Moonfinder information are accessible through the story menu. Click on the arrow in the upper left corner of the screen to reveal it. Check back often to see how your choices influence your Moonfinder's personality and relationships. Saving and loading are also accessible through the story menu. There are 12 save slots through your browser, but saving directly to your disk is unlimited. Save often and explore all the possibilities in Eye of the Moon!</div>

<<if $dietycodex is true>>[[deities & spirits]]<</if>> <<if $wayfindingcodex is true>>[[wayfinding]]<</if>> <<if $mortalcodex is true>>[[mortal life]]<</if>> <<if $chartraits is true>>[[Character Traits]]<</if>> <<if $relationships is true>>[[Relationships]]<</if>>

@@.heading1;Deities of Kaluwalhatian@@ <<if $mayaricodex is true>>[[Mayari, goddess of the moon]]<<else>>@@.emphasis;Undiscovered@@<</if>> <<if $talacodex is true>>[[Tala, goddess of the stars and navigation]]<<else>>@@.emphasis;Undiscovered@@<</if>> <<if $bathalacodex is true>>[[Bathala, the creator]]<<else>>@@.emphasis;Undiscovered@@<</if>> <<if $apolakicodex is true>>[[Apolaki, god of the sun]]<<else>>@@.emphasis;Undiscovered@@<</if>> <<if $hanancodex is true>>[[Hanan, goddess of the morning]]<<else>>@@.emphasis;Undiscovered@@<</if>> <<if $lakapaticodex is true>>[[Lakapati, goddess of agriculture & Mapulon, god of seasons|Lakapati, goddess of agriculture]]<<else>>@@.emphasis;Undiscovered@@<</if>> <<if $dumacodex is true>>[[Dumakulem, god of mountains and hunting]]<<else>>@@.emphasis;Undiscovered@@<</if>> <<if $haikcodex is true>>[[Haik, god of fishermen]]<<else>>@@.emphasis;Undiscovered@@<</if>> <<if $amanikablecodex is true>>[[Amanikable, god of the sea]]<<else>>@@.emphasis;Undiscovered@@<</if>> <<if $civilwarcodex is true>>@@.heading1;Myths & Legends@@ [[The War of the Divine]]<<else>>@@.emphasis;Undiscovered@@<</if>> <<if $aswangcodex is true>>@@.heading1;Inhabitants of Kasamaan@@<<else>>@@.heading1;Undiscovered<</if>> <<if $aswangcodex is true>>[[The aswang]]<<else>>@@.emphasis;Undiscovered@@<</if>> <<back "Return">>

@@.heading1;$name@@@@.heading2;—?deity of lost things@@ @@.footnote;?they/?them@@ @@.heading2;Your appearance@@ You have @@.emphasis;$eyecolor@@ eyes like your mother, and @@.emphasis;$haircolor@@, @@.emphasis;$hairtexture@@ hair like your father that you wear @@.emphasis;<<if $hairstyle is "shaven">>shaven<</if>><<if $hairstyle is "short">>short<</if>><<if $hairstyle is "chin-length">>at your chin<</if>><<if $hairstyle is "shoulder-length">>at your shoulders<</if>><<if $hairstyle is "waist-length" or $hairstyle is "hip-length">>long<</if>><<if $hairstyle is "ponytail">>up and out of your face<</if>><<if $hairstyle is "braids">>braided<</if>><<if $hairstyle is "locs">>in locs<</if>>.@@ Kissed by the sun, your skin is @@.emphasis;$skincolor@@. <<if $height is "petite">>You are @@.emphasis;quite short@@, though<</if>><<if $height is "short">>You are @@.emphasis;shorter than most@@, though<</if>><<if $height is "average">>You are as @@.emphasis;tall as most others@@ and<</if>><<if $height is "tall">>You are @@.emphasis;quite tall@@ and<</if>><<if $height is "very tall">>You @@.emphasis;tower over most others@@ and<</if>> your life spent tending the fields and sailing to new places <<if $height is "petite" or $height is "short">>still<</if>> cuts a strong figure. You accessorize the colorful, embroidered textiles of your <<if $clothing is "bahag">>@@.emphasis;loincloth@@<</if>><<if $clothing is "tapis">>@@.emphasis;skirt@@<</if>><<if $clothing is "baro and bahag">>@@.emphasis;jacket and loincloth@@<</if>><<if $clothing is "baro and tapis">>@@.emphasis;jacket and skirt@@<</if>><<if $clothing is "dress">>@@.emphasis;dress@@<</if>> with gold: threaded through your clothes, in your ears, and around your limbs. <<if $mcweapon is not "">>You also carry your preferred weapon, a $mcweapon.<</if>> @@.heading2;Your temperament@@ @@.emphasis;<<if $blue gt $purple and $blue gt $red>>Charitable and sympathetic,<</if>><<if $purple gt $blue and $purple gt $red>>Playful and mischievous,<</if>><<if $red gt $blue and $red gt $purple>>Aloof and exacting,<</if>>@@ mortals know to approach you <<if $blue gt $purple and $blue gt $red>>with a genuine plea<</if>><<if $purple gt $blue and $purple gt $red>>with an amusing story<</if>><<if $red gt $blue and $red gt $purple>>with respect and awe<</if>> if they mean to ask for your blessing. <<if $fighter gt 0 or $diplomat gt 0>>You @@.emphasis;<<if $proactive gte $reactive>>are quick to act decisively<</if>><<if $reactive gt $proactive>>tend to observe before acting<</if>>@@ and prefer to resolve conflict through @@.emphasis;<<if $diplomat gt $fighter and $reactive gt $proactive>>intentional diplomacy<</if>><<if $diplomat gt $fighter and $proactive gt $reactive>>strategic negotiation<</if>><<if $fighter gt $diplomat and $reactive gt $proactive>>impenetrable defenses<</if>><<if $fighter gt $diplomat and $proactive gt $reactive>>displays of strength<</if>>@@.<</if>> <<back "Return">>

<><<set $dumapoints to $dfriendpts + $dromancepts>><<set $talapoints to $tfriendpts + $tromancepts>><>@@.heading1;RELATIONSHIPS@@ @@.heading2;Your relationship with your parents@@ <<if $LMpoints gte 4>>You are protective of your family.<<elseif $LMpoints gte 3>>You enjoy visiting your parents.<<else>>You don't see eye to eye.<</if>> <<if $metduma is true>>@@.heading2;Your relationship with Duma@@<<else>>@@.heading2;A god you know from afar@@<</if>> <<if $metduma is true>><<if $dumapoints gte 4>><<if $dromancepts gte 3>>You have his notice.<<else>>He's looking out for you.<</if>><<elseif $dumapoints gte 3>><<if $dromancepts gte 2>>He's curious about you.<<else>>He wonders if you can be helpful.<</if>><<else>>You are beneath his notice.<</if>><</if>> <<if $mettala is true>>@@.heading2;Your relationship with Tala@@<<else>>@@.heading2;A goddess you know from afar@@<</if>> <<if $mettala is true>><<if $talapoints gte 4>><<if $tromancepts gte 3>>She likes your attention.<<else>>She's opening up to you.<</if>><<elseif $talapoints gte 3>><<if $tromancepts gte 2>>She thinks you could be a bit of fun.<<else>>She doesn't mind having you onboard.<</if>><<else>>Her attention is elsewhere.<</if>><</if>> <<if $meetfight is true>>@@.heading2;Duma and Tala's relationship with each other@@<<else>>@@.heading2;Undiscovered@@<</if>> <<if $meetfight is true>><<if $ot3pts gte 1>>They will begrudgingly work together when needed.<<else>>They are tolerating each other's presence.<</if>><</if>> <<if $metmayari is true>>@@.heading2;Your relationship with Mayari@@<<else>>@@.heading2;A goddess you know from afar@@<</if>> <<if $metmayari is true>><<if $mayaripoints gte 1>><<if $questaccepted is true>>She wants to know if she can rely on you.<</if>><<else>>She needs you more than she likes you.<</if>><</if>> <<if $metapolaki is true>>@@.heading2;Your relationship with Apolaki@@<<else>>@@.heading2;A god you know from afar@@<</if>> <<back "Return">>

<<if $katalonan is true>>[[The Katalonan]]<<else>>Undiscovered<</if>> <<back "Return">>

@@.heading1;Mayari@@@@.heading2;—goddess of the moon@@ @@.footnote;[ma-YA-ri] she/her@@ The embodiment of poise and control, Mayari is the commanding ruler of night. Her straight black hair is a long veil that shrouds her. She’s usually seen with a serene expression, like the untouched surface of a lagoon. Her silver-eyed gaze carries the weight of discovery; made even more intense by the dark leather eyepatch she wears over her right eye. The mortals see Mayari as the granter of blessings and good fortune. They pray to her during the new moon for food, for gold, for abundance. She is the recipient of the most prayers, the bridge between the mortals’ needs and the deities’ abilities. As Bathala’s eldest daughter and child, Mayari has always been the most responsible and dutiful of her siblings. She was the natural choice to be his successor, which made his intent for Mayari and Apolaki to rule jointly jarring and unexpected. The war has left its toll on the goddess. Where she was once open and welcoming she is now guarded and suspicious. A truce is not a reconciliation to her, but a ruler must put her responsibility first. @@.legend1;Mayari my blessed moon, Enrich my life with your grace@@ @@.footnote;- a prayer of the devoted@@ <<back "Return">>

<<back "Return">>

<div id="chapterheader"><img src="https://i.imgur.com/f731kU9.png"/></div> Sunlight filters through the leaves and branches dancing in the breeze above you. The air is crisp with the blessing of a new day in the heavens. The ambient chattering of the anito, the spirits, that live with your family amongst the rice terraces add to the idyllic calm of it all. You take a deep, fulfilling breath, holding it in your core for a beat. The rich soil under your feet grounds you and you curl your toes into it before releasing an exhale and resuming the leisurely pace of your stroll through the trees. It’s been a few months since you were last here. You let your feet lead you in a meander through the familiar twists of the mountainside. The journey is typically satisfying enough without a set destination; there is always somewhere new in Kaluwalhatian to explore, something novel to discover even when you return home, where your parents tend to the farms that feed the pantheon of gods. The responsibilities granted to you are different. Your dominion is over lost things—though personally you like to think of them more as found. When you were a child you remember standing by your mother as they worked, muttering to themselves as they realized that they left one of their tools somewhere in the rice paddies the previous day. It was the first time that someone’s words painted such a multidimensional image in your mind. You took their hand and let your senses lead you both to their leather bound knife, earning yourself a smile spread by pride and a grateful embrace from your mother. Your awareness of the things that mortals and deities alike misplace constantly pulls your attention in countless different directions, mind always tucking information and locations away to the back of your consciousness. Some might call you distracted; your parents have always called you cognizant. Regardless, all of them call you… <ul class = "arrow"> <li><<click "View suggestions for gender-neutral names">><<toggleclass "#gnname" "hidden">><</click>></li><div id="gnname" class="hidden">&emsp;&emsp;[[Hiraya|1.1][$name to "Hiraya"]] — fruit of one's dreams &emsp;&emsp;[[Agos|1.1][$name to "Agos"]] — flowing, swift current &emsp;&emsp;[[Tadhana|1.1][$name to "Tadhana"]] — destiny, fate</div> <li><<click "View suggestions for feminine names">><<toggleclass "#fname" "hidden">><</click>></li><div id="fname" class="hidden">&emsp;&emsp;[[Mahalina|1.1][$name to "Mahalina"]] — to be fascinated &emsp;&emsp;[[Ligaya|1.1][$name to "Ligaya"]] — happiness, joy &emsp;&emsp;[[Mutya|1.1][$name to "Mutya"]] — jewel</div> <li><<click "View suggestions for masculine names">><<toggleclass "#mname" "hidden">><</click>></li><div id="mname" class="hidden">&emsp;&emsp;[[Dakila|1.1][$name to "Dakila"]] — grand, regal &emsp;&emsp;[[Alab|1.1][$name to "Alab"]] — passion, blaze &emsp;&emsp;[[Magiting|1.1][$name to "Magiting"]] — brave, fearless</div> <li>Insert a custom name:</li></ul><<textbox "$name" $name>> \ <<button "Confirm">> <<set $name to $name.trim()>> <<if $name is "">> <<replace "#textbox-error">>Enter a name.<</replace>> <<elseif /[^A-Z]/i.test($name)>> <<replace "#textbox-error">>Names may only contain letters.<</replace>> <<elseif $name is "Lakapati">> <<replace "#textbox-error">>That's your mother's name. <</replace>> <<elseif $name is "Mapulon">> <<replace "#textbox-error">>That's your father's name. <</replace>> <<elseif $name is "Duma">> <<replace "#textbox-error">>That name is unavailable. <</replace>> <<elseif $name is "Dumakulem">> <<replace "#textbox-error">>That name is unavailable. <</replace>> <<elseif $name is "Tala">> <<replace "#textbox-error">>That name is unavailable. <</replace>> <<elseif $name is "Mayari">> <<replace "#textbox-error">>That name is unavailable. <</replace>> <<elseif $name is "Apolaki">> <<replace "#textbox-error">>That name is unavailable. <</replace>> <<elseif $name is "Bathala">> <<replace "#textbox-error">>That name is unavailable. <</replace>> <<elseif $name is "Amansinaya">> <<replace "#textbox-error">>That name is unavailable. <</replace>> <<elseif $name is "Buan">> <<replace "#textbox-error">>That name is unavailable. <</replace>> <<elseif $name is "Buwan">> <<replace "#textbox-error">>That name is unavailable. <</replace>> <<elseif $name is "Masalanta">> <<replace "#textbox-error">>That name is unavailable. <</replace>> <<elseif $name is "Dumangan">> <<replace "#textbox-error">>That name is unavailable. <</replace>> <<elseif $name is "Idianali">> <<replace "#textbox-error">>That name is unavailable. <</replace>> <<elseif $name is "Idianale">> <<replace "#textbox-error">>That name is unavailable. <</replace>> <<elseif $name is "Hanan">> <<replace "#textbox-error">>That name is unavailable. <</replace>> <<elseif $name is "Ikapati">> <<replace "#textbox-error">>That name is unavailable. <</replace>> <<elseif $name is "Sitan">> <<replace "#textbox-error">>That name is unavailable. <</replace>> <<elseif $name is "Mangagauay">> <<replace "#textbox-error">>That name is unavailable. <</replace>> <<elseif $name is "Manisilat">> <<replace "#textbox-error">>That name is unavailable. <</replace>> <<elseif $name is "Hukluban">> <<replace "#textbox-error">>That name is unavailable. <</replace>> <<elseif $name is "Haik">> <<replace "#textbox-error">>That name is unavailable. <</replace>> <<elseif $name is "Amanikable">> <<replace "#textbox-error">>That name is unavailable. <</replace>> <<elseif $name is "Anito">> <<replace "#textbox-error">>That name is unavailable. <</replace>> <<elseif $name is "Sidapa">> <<replace "#textbox-error">>That name is unavailable. <</replace>> <<elseif $name is "Magellan">> <<replace "#textbox-error">>That name is unavailable. <</replace>> <<else>> <<replace "#textbox-error">><</replace>> <<goto "1.1">> <</if>> <</button>>

{Story Variables} <<set $traitpref to "">> -Chapter One- <<set $mapuloncanoe to false>> <<set $helpduma to false>> -Chapter Two- -Chapter Three- {Relationship Variables} {Tala} <<set $mettala to false>> <<set $talapoints to 0>> <<set $talafriend to false>> <<set $talaromance to false>> <<set $tfriendpts to 0>> <<set $tromancepts to 0>> {Duma} <<set $metduma to false>> <<set $dumapoints to 0>> <<set $dumafriend to false>> <<set $dumaromance to false>> <<set $dfriendpts to 0>> <<set $dromancepts to 0>> {OT3} <<set $ot3 to false>> <<set $ot3pts to 0>> {Parents} <<set $LMpoints to 0>> <<set $LMfriends to false>> <<set $LMstrangers to false>> {Pantheon} <<set $apolakipoints to 0>> <<set $mayaripoints to 0>> {Mortals} <<set $mortalpoints to 0>> {Main Character Customization} <<set $name to "Anagolay">> <<set $preference to "">> <<set $facialhair to "">> <<set $eyecolor to "">> <<set $bodyhair to "">> <<set $height to "">> <<set $haircolor to "">> <<set $hairstyle to "">> <<set $hairtexture to "">> <<set $skincolor to "">> <<set $clothing to "">> {Main Character Traits} <<set $charstats to false>> <<set $charcodex to false>> <<set $appearance to false>> <<set $blue to 0>> <<set $purple to 0>> <<set $red to 0>> <<set $proactive to 0>> <<set $reactive to 0>> <<set $fighter to 0>> <<set $diplomat to 0>> {Main Character Skills} <<set $powerlocate to 0>> <<set $powersummon to 0>> {Codex} <<set $dietycodex to false>> <<set $mayaricodex to false>> <<set $apolakicodex to false>> <<set $anagolaycodex to false>> <<set $lakapaticodex to false>> <<set $mapuloncodex to false>> <<set $talacodex to false>> <<set $haikcodex to false>> <<set $dumacodex to false>> <<set $hanancodex to false>> <<set $anitocodex to false>> <<set $amanikablecodex to false>> <<set $civilwarcodex to false>> <<set $wayfindingcodex to false>> <<set $kaluwalhatiancodex to false>> <<set $bululcodex to false>> <<set $houseofbathalacodex to false>> <<set $pulagcodex to false>> <<set $mortalcodex to false>> <<set $katalonancodex to false>> <<set $chartraits to false>> <<set $relationships to false>>

@@.heading1;Lakapati@@@@.heading2;—goddess of agriculture@@ @@.footnote;[la-ka-PA-ti] she/her; they/them@@ @@.heading1;Mapulon@@@@.heading2;—god of seasons@@ @@.footnote;[ma-pu-LON] he/him@@ Mapulon and Lakapati are best known amongst the deities as the keepers of the Bulul Terraces. Bathala gave them both the gift and the responsibility of Kaluwalhatian’s farms, an honor that they take seriously. Their position within the pantheon is that of neutral peacemakers. They tend to either be respected for their firm kindness or quietly scrutinized for their insistence on staying out of conflicts. The mortals revere the couple; both play vital roles in their lives. It’s customary for humans to set out plates of rice during full moons as an offering to Lakapati for the coming month. Rituals include carving statues of Lakapati and carrying it around the fields during planting time. Farmers even try to secure intergenerational blessings by holding their children up in the air and praying that Lakapati will keep them fed. Mapulon is known for his control of the seasons. He works in seamless tandem with Lakapati to make sure the climate creates ideal conditions for planting, growing, and harvest. Extremely even-keeled, deities often seek Mapulon’s guidance when faced with major conflict. Together, the couple look out for the mortals by passing down their innovations and maintaining balance with nature. @@.legend1;Lakapati, Feed this one who seeks your favor Let them not go hungry@@ @@.footnote;- a parent’s prayer@@ <<back "Return">>

@@.heading1;Tala@@@@.heading2;—goddess of the stars and navigation@@ @@.footnote;[TA-la] she/her@@ With a sparkling laugh that announces her presence, Tala brightens everything around her. Tala’s most notable feature is her long, wavy hair, dark blue like the last vestiges of the sunset. Her eyes are mercurial both in color and in temperament, with a depth that belies an astute ingenuity and marks her as one of Bathala’s children. The freckles scattered across her round nose and high cheeks set her apart from her siblings. The bright giddiness of her smile sets her apart from everyone else. Tala pierces stars through the night sky, turning them into brilliant jewels that guide mortals through the dark. It is said that every time a new deity is born, Tala creates a new constellation in the ocean above to welcome them to Kaluwalhatian. Novice sailors and lifelong seafarers alike worship her because without the stars as their map they would be lost in the seas. No one aside from Bathala, the supreme god himself, knows Kaluwalhatian as well as Tala does. She serves as Mayari’s navigator and right-hand, doing whatever the diplomacy of her sister’s position prohibits Mayari from doing herself. Free-spirited and resourceful, Tala’s quick wit and bright eyes illuminate the cosmos. @@.legend1;Tala, Bless my path and ensure my passage Guide me and show me the way@@ @@.footnote;- a sailor’s prayer@@ <<back "Return">>

<<back "Return">>

<><<set $dietycodex to true>><<set $civilwarcodex to true>><>@@.heading3;⋗ Deities and spirits unlocked ⋖@@ Fluttering wings and familiar chirping precede the negligible weight of your birds settling on your shoulders. You raise a hand to stroke the bright blue of their heads in greeting and they nudge gently against your fingers, tittering brightly in response. Your gifts grew along with you. Once you started fulfilling mortals’ prayers for guidance and discovery, the supreme god granted you a flock of tigmamanukan: spirits that manifest as fairy bluebirds. Like all the anito, the tigmamanukan are Bathala’s purposeful creations. The mortals look to them for signs of fortune or tragedy, not realizing that one of their functions is as your scouts. They speak to you in a language completely of your mutual invention, recounting those they have helped down on earth since you last saw them and what they’ve yet been able to find. Most recently the birds led a young girl to her earrings—forgotten underneath exposed tree branches by the river as she played with her siblings—before her mother had reason to scold her for losing a prized gift passed down through generations. You nod along with approval, faintly recalling the girl’s grateful, relieved prayer to you afterwards. <ul class = "arrow"> <li>[[“Now she can pass the earrings down to her own child if the time comes,” you smile in pleased satisfaction.|1.2][$blue to $blue + 1]]</li> <li>[[“What’s the point of being all powerful if not to save children from scoldings?” you quip with chuckle.|1.2][$purple to $purple + 1]]</li> <li>[[“Her family has always been devoted to mine, so I repaid their devotion,” you reason aloud.|1.2][$red to $red + 1]]</li> </ul>

<div id="chapterheader"><img src="https://i.imgur.com/IcZupTm.png"/></div> Metal clangs as the battle of an age rages on. The air is heavy and thick with the voice of the deities: raised in anger, in determination, in pain. Above, the sky is an indistinguishable patchwork of night and day, with swatches of stars piercing through the familiar blue of the late morning like tears in a fishing net. With the divine distracted from their duties, the worlds below and above are in disarray. Theirs is a war for who will rule the realm of the deities: Kaluwalhatian. A tall figure cuts through the waves of deities turned soldiers, commanding even amongst the might of the immortals. Her power pours out of her, cloaking her tanned skin in a swirling haze of moonlight. The goddess sweeps an arm at a rushing opponent and freezes the arc of their axe at its peak. She punches the air between them and blows them back amongst their allies, knocking several down in the process. “Apolaki!” she calls out into the mass of weapons and limbs and blood. There is a deadly fury in her voice, tempered only by the almost eerie hold she has on her composure. Despite the battle circling her like a storm, she leaves no question regarding who is in control. [[Continue|0.2]]

You continue strolling against the edges of your family’s lands: the Bulul Terraces. According to your parents—Lakapati, the goddess of agriculture, and Mapulon, the god of the seasons—Bathala granted them this fertile land along with the responsibility of tending it. Bulul’s harvests feed Kaluwalhatian, which speaks to how highly the supreme god considers them. Occasionally you come across ancestor spirits calf deep in the rice fields as they maintain the structure of the terraces, packing mud meticulously. Mortals who gain favor with deities are sometimes invited to reside in their domain after their time on earth. The ancestors on Bulul tend to have been farmers themselves, ones who made a mark in their communities through their innovations as well as their compassion. Your parents have always been considered the most altruistic out of all the deities. They help out the mortals for the sake of it and without the imperious, weighty expectation of reciprocation that informs the way most of the other deities bargain with those who seek their assistance<<if $red gt $blue and $red gt $purple>>, yourself included<</if>>. Your parents give a chosen few mortals the option to help them tend to the terraces. Worshipful and honored even after the end, they reward those who agree by blessing and protecting the descendants they’ve left behind, ensuring that they are never hungry and always safe from the extremes of the seasons. The ancestors kneel on one knee, head bowed as you pass despite the muddy water at their feet. They raise their voices in greeting, “Good morning, $name…” <ul class = "arrow"> <li>[[…goddess of lost things.”|1.3][$pgen to 1]]</li> <li>[[“…god of lost things.”|1.3][$pgen to 0]]</li> <li>[[“…deity of lost things.”|1.3][$pgen to 2]]</li> </ul>

<><<set $wayfindingcodex to true>><<set $bululcodex to true>><>@@.heading3;⋗ Wayfinding unlocked ⋖@@ You greet the ancestors with <<if $blue gt $purple and $blue gt $red>>a familiar smile<</if>><<if $purple gt $blue and $purple gt $red>>a jaunty wave<</if>><<if $red gt $blue and $red gt $purple>>a firm nod<</if>> before tuning back into your birds’ updates. Some of them have witnessed you grow from a young, curious ?deity to <<if $blue gt $purple and $blue gt $red>>a benevolent support in the pantheon<</if>><<if $purple gt $blue and $purple gt $red>>a whimsical flurry amongst the pantheon<</if>><<if $red gt $blue and $red gt $purple>>a stalwart force within the pantheon<</if>>. By the time you return home the sun is high in the sky, signaling your midday meal. The birds titter and you reach out to stroke their heads one more time before they take off. You watch them disperse, still able to feel the powers tying your awareness to theirs even once they disappear into the cosmos. Your parents still live in the same house where you were conceived and born: a bamboo hut on four stilts with a high, thatched roof. Your father built the house with his own hands as a gift to your mother, a story she recalls with a fond smile. Mapulon has a penchant for adorning the outside with wood carvings, changing out the decorations along with the transformation of the seasons. Right now the stilts bear carvings of tempestuous waves and palm trees bending in the wind of storms to reflect the monsoons raging on earth. Underneath the house, Lakapati’s tools are organized on a table: small knives for harvesting, larger ones for clearing vegetation, sickles, and axes. There’s also a large, well-used iron pot resting over the still hot remains of a wood fire. It’s easy to recall memories from when you were younger, when you would watch curiously as your mother sharpened her knives and your father would invite you to taste food as he cooked. [[Continue|1.4]]

<><<set $lakapaticodex to true>><<set $mapuloncodex to true>><>@@.heading3;⋗ Dieties and spirits updated: Lakapati & Mapulon ⋖@@ You can smell the savory saltiness of the fish your father prepared as you dip a coconut shell into a clay jar of water and rinse the mud off your feet and hands. Your parents’ voices are audible from the stepladder as you ascend; their words are vague but the warmth in their voices as they speak to each other is clear. The inside of the house is misleadingly spacious compared to the outside, similar to how the mortals have learned to construct their own homes but aided by your father’s abilities of manipulation and transformation. The high ceiling and the slatted bamboo flooring keep the structure cool and dry. It’s all one room sectioned off into a main area and a sleeping area by bamboo and thatched partitions. “$name!” your mother calls out brightly once you reach the top of the steps and pass the threshold. “Come eat, your father caught fish fresh from the river this morning and prepared rice.” Lakapati is a tall woman with wavy hair woven in a braid and twisted in a bun at the nape of her neck. She’s practically muscular, with wide shoulders and a strong back from her time spent cultivating the farms. Lakapati is in her customary daywear: a long wrap around skirt in her favorite shade of green along with a light, embroidered jacket with sleeves that reach her elbows. The fragrantly sweet ripeness of summer trails behind her as she bustles to set the table. You greet your parents, taking one of their hands and pressing the backs of their fingers to your forehead as a sign of respect. When you pull back to look in Lakapati’s eyes, you note how… <ul class = "arrow"> <li>[[You have to look down, since you are one of the tallest gods in the pantheon.|1.5][$height to "very tall"]]</li> <li>[[You are eye level with your mother, since you are both taller than most.|1.5][$height to "tall"]]</li> <li>[[You have to tilt your chin up a little this close, since you are only average height.|1.5][$height to "average"]]</li> <li>[[You have to crane your neck, since you are significantly shorter than her.|1.5][$height to "short"]]</li> <li>[[You have to step back, since you are amongst the shortest in the pantheon.|1.5][$height to "petite"]]</li></ul>

You sit cross legged on one side of the low table afterwards, with either parent on adjacent sides of you and opposite each other. On the table are long banana leaves laden with rice, fish, vegetables, and taro. Your father smiles at you in invitation to partake. The three of you eat communally, arms reaching over each other and hands swatting playfully as you nab choice pieces of food. Lakapati cuts open a mango to share while Mapulon picks out fish bones and places the meat in front of you. Your father is not as tall as your mother but what he doesn’t have in height he has in width and bulk. Never quite a warrior, your father built his strength by working the land and the sea. His hair is chin-length and tattoos cover his body, disappearing only under the neatly folded lines of his loincloth. While your mother tends to the farms, your father makes sure the conditions are right for cultivation as well as harvest both in Bulul and on earth. His gifts all have to do with transformation and change, though his responsibilities require a lot more needling and coaxing of some of the other gods than he would like. All the gods have always said that you are a perfect combination of your parents<<if $purple gt $blue or $red gt $blue>>—if not in temperament then at least in appearance<</if>>. You inherited your mother’s eyes… <ul class = "arrow"> <li>[[…black, deep and intense like the never ending cosmos.|1.6][$eyecolor to "black"]]</li> <li>[[…brown, stable and strong like the earth.|1.6][$eyecolor to "brown"]]</li> <li>[[…green, glittering and bright like the tops of the jungle.|1.6][$eyecolor to "green"]]</li> <li>[[…hazel, colorful and ever-shifting like the reflection of the sea.|1.6][$eyecolor to "hazel"]]</li> <li>[[…blue, cool and piercing like glass.|1.6][$eyecolor to "blue"]]</li> <li>Insert a custom eye color:</li></ul><<textbox "$eyecolor" $eyecolor>> \ <<button "Confirm">> <<goto "1.6">><</button>>

Meanwhile, your hair is all your father’s and is… <ul class = "arrow"> <li>[[…deep black.|1.7][$haircolor to "black"]]</li> <li>[[…warm brown.|1.7][$haircolor to "warm brown"]]</li> <li>[[…golden brown.|1.7][$haircolor to "golden brown"]]</li> <li>[[…dark copper.|1.7][$haircolor to "dark copper"]]</li> <li>[[…light auburn.|1.7][$haircolor to "light auburn"]]</li> <li>Insert a custom hair color:</li></ul><<textbox "$haircolor" $haircolor>> \ <<button "Confirm">> <<goto "1.7">><</button>>

Your $haircolor hair is also… <ul class = "arrow"> <li>[[…straight.|1.8][$hairtexture to "straight"]]</li> <li>[[…wavy.|1.8][$hairtexture to "wavy"]]</li> <li>[[…curly.|1.8][$hairtexture to "curly"]]</li> <li>[[…coily.|1.8][$hairtexture to "coily"]]</li></ul>

Your $haircolor, $hairtexture hair is… <ul class = "arrow"> <li>[[…shaven.|1.9][$hairstyle to "shaven"]]</li> <li>[[…short.|1.9][$hairstyle to "short"]]</li> <li>[[…chin-length.|1.9][$hairstyle to "chin-length"]]</li> <li>[[…at your shoulders.|1.9][$hairstyle to "shoulder-length"]]</li> <li>[[…at your waist.|1.9][$hairstyle to "waist-length"]]</li> <li>[[…at your hips.|1.9][$hairstyle to "hip-length"]]</li> <li>[[…tied up.|1.9][$hairstyle to "ponytail"]]</li> <li>[[…braided.|1.9][$hairstyle to "braids"]]</li> <li>[[…in locs.|1.9][$hairstyle to "locs"]]</li></ul>

Your skintone is… <ul class = "arrow"> <li>[[…tan beige.|1.9a][$skincolor to "tan beige"]]</li> <li>[[…medium olive.|1.9a][$skincolor to "medium olive"]]</li> <li>[[…deep brown.|1.9a][$skincolor to "deep brown"]]</li> <li>[[…rich black.|1.9a][$skincolor to "rich black"]]</li></ul>

<><<set $chartraits to true>><>@@.heading3;⋗ Character traits unlocked ⋖@@ You partake in the food set before you. Sometimes a divine meal is reason enough to return home. You listen as your parents catch each other up on their morning activities; apparently Amansinaya has requested a visit with your father in regards to the wet season’s rainfall patterns. Her primary concern is for the fishermen she watches over, whereas your father’s is the eventual harvest. It’s conflict resolution on a level you’ve never really had to manage. For the most part, fulfilling your responsibilities always results in relief and gratitude. Ever since you outgrew life in Bulul, you’ve been exploring both earth and Kaluwalhatian. Your fairybirds handle the most menial requests which allows you the freedom to choose towards whom and what you dedicate your time and gifts. Most don’t consider that not everything lost is sought. When you’re not answering the most urgent prayers of the katalonan—the mortals’ high priestesses—you’re following your senses to your next forgotten discovery. There are some things that hover in your mind’s eye, location tantalizingly out of reach at the bottom of the sea or deep within a territorial spirit’s domain. Sometimes, the knowledge of where something is or even that it exists is enough. Other times, your curiosity drives you to find it. “How have you been, anak?” Lakapati turns to you. <ul class = "arrow"> <li>[[“Good,” you smile fondly at your parents’ endearment before recounting recent events.|1.11][$LMpoints to $LMpoints + 1]]</li> <li>[[You hum instead of providing an answer, not interested in opening up.|1.11][$LMpoints to $LMpoints - 1]]</li></ul>

<><<set $relationships to true>><>@@.heading3;⋗ Relationships unlocked ⋖@@ <<if $LMpoints eq 1>><<if $blue gt 0>>Your family has always been close. Living amongst the rest of the pantheon on the starry seas of Kaluwalhatian, your life with your parents was idyllic, simple. Happy.<</if>><<if $purple gt 0>>Your restlessness keeps you away from your parents often, but every time you come home the house fills with laughter. Your father has a wicked sense of humor that only you can pull out of him while your mother enables your antics with an amused grin.<</if>><<if $red gt 0>>Being back in your parents’ home always has a way of softening you. They work hard to cultivate a sense of contentment and peace throughout their lands. You make a point to come home when you find yourself too expectant and unyielding towards others—even by your own standards.<</if>><</if>><<if $LMpoints lt 0>><<if $blue gt 0>>It can be hard to join in on your parents’ conversations. They know each other so well and communicate on levels that have always been challenging for you to perceive. They’re incapable of being unkind but nevertheless there’s a distance between you and them that you’ve yet to overcome.<</if>><<if $purple gt 0>>Your restlessness keeps you away from your parents often—there’s more than enough in Kaluwalhatian to keep you too distracted to be homesick. It’s mostly your familial obligation that brings you back whenever your fairybirds pass along your mother’s invite to visit.<</if>><<if $red gt 0>>Because of your discordant personalities, your family has learned that the best way to maintain a somewhat cordial relationship comes through distance. You’ve never quite agreed with their methods and despite their kindness you still inherited your stubbornness from somewhere.<</if>><</if>> “It’s good that you’re home,” your mother’s smile is a blooming flower. <<if $LMpoints lt 0>>Regardless of all else, she’s always pleased to see her only child.<</if>> “Things have been moving more slowly here as of late,” your father adds. “There are less prayers, less offerings.” You chew thoughtfully, glancing at your mother to see her reaction. Every deity’s power relies on mortals’ veneration—or in some cases, their fear. Prayers and rituals are not only a way for mortals to be heard, but are also what gives the pantheon their ability to answer said prayers. This balance drives all creation, intrinsically linking mortal and immortal in a perpetual give and take. Your parents are beloved; as the goddess of agriculture and the god of seasons, at least one or both greatly influence each mortal’s life. It’s unusual that prayers to them in particular would be sparse. Your power and influence are far less greater in comparison, though being their child still affords you a well-known reputation amongst mortals and deities alike. <ul class = "arrow"> <li>[[“That’s… troubling. Has this been going on a while?” you frown, worried that you haven’t been home while your parents are having a hard time.|1.12][$blue to $blue + 2]]</li> <li>[[“If there’s one thing we can always count on it’s human nature,” you offer lightly, your humor lessening the invisible weight of their concern.|1.12][$purple to $purple + 2]]</li> <li>[[“You’ve always been too lenient on the mortals,” you tsk. “It would behoove them to fear you.”|1.12][$red to $red + 2]]</li></ul>

“It’s not quite significant enough of a problem yet,” your mother elaborates. “But you know your father, always so attuned to change.” “So that you can focus on what you need to,” he says in an indulgent tone you only ever hear him use in private. Lakapati puts a hand over his briefly in an affectionate response before turning back to you. “There were less offerings of rice during the last full moon,” they continue. At the end of each lunar cycle, mortals set out plates of cooked rice to invite Lakapati into their homes and bless their crops for the upcoming month. “Which, while unusual isn’t inexplicable. They might have needed to share with neighbors or feed more children.” “That’s what you would do,” your father counters, not looking up from his task of separating fish bones from the meat. “Of course,” they respond breezily. Some deities might see your parents’ life as too humble given their place in the pantheon; but you know that they consider themselves rich—enough to make sure everyone has something to go around. “The point is, our lives are too intertwined for us to be forgotten. When they have something to give they will.” You eye your parents more closely. They lack the gauntness and pallor that typically belies a fading connection to the mortals so you decide to take her word for it. After eating your parents settle down for a nap, recharging so they can finish the rest of the day’s tasks when they rise again. The lethargy of the meal and the beating sun courses through you too and you accept the extra space your mother sets aside for you to lie down. [[Continue|1.13]]

A sun ray peeking through the straw roof stirs you awake. By the bright light filtering into the house you can tell it will still be some time before night. You sit up, reenergized by the clarity that comes with rest. Despite your mother brushing off the issue of the mortals, you decide to start keeping a closer eye on them. The tigmamanukan expand and sharpen your awareness as long as they are close by and your travels can double as patrols. There are hardly any manmade reasons to not keep Lakapati and Mapulon’s favor and you know enough about the impulses of your peers to not underestimate them. Resolute, you remind yourself to prepare the fairybirds when you see them again, not yet worried enough to summon them outright. You head outside and find your father in the shady space under the house, meticulously mending a tear in one of his fishing nets. He looks up when he senses your presence and greets you with a nod and a slight smile. You return his <<if $LMpoints gt 0>>smile<<else>>nod<</if>> and <<if $LMpoints gt 0>>take a seat across from him<<else>>stand a ways from him<</if>>. He sets down the net and gives you his full attention. “Have a restful nap?” “I did.” “Good,” he gestures to the net in his hands. “I was planning to go canoeing today. Care to join me?” <ul class = "arrow"> <li>[[You respond in agreement and your father’s slight smile grows.|1.14.10][$LMpoints to $LMpoints + 2]]</li> <li>[[You decline with a shake of your head, not missing the disappointment in your father’s eyes.|1.14.20][$LMpoints to $LMpoints - 2]]</li></ul>

<><<set $mapuloncanoe to true>><>Mapulon finishes mending the net while you look around. Most everything is in the same place and you feel a sense of deja vu, remembering when you were still too small to reach the top shelves and how he would lift you up so you could retrieve the fish hooks as you drag your index finger against its handcrafted edges. Out of all the gods in the pantheon, Lakapati and Mapulon are the most adherent to their habits. It’s intuitive for both of them, given their dominion over inherently cyclical patterns: the cultivation of everything that springs from the earth and the perpetual changing of the seasons. You follow your father from the hut to his boat, a smooth canoe he made out of a large tree. Along the sides he’s carved out patterns of curves tapering into jagged points to represent water as well as lines and figures representing fish. Planks run parallel to the canoe to keep it balanced, attached by beams that arch over the water like a water spider’s legs. You step in, muscle memory allowing you to keep your balance as Mapulon pushes the boat off of the edge of the river. You look back and he hops in once the boat is free of the land. You paddle the canoe together, listening to his steady voice behind you as he guides you. [[Continue|1.14.11]]

“Ah, that’s alright then,” his voice is even and steady as always, though he breaks your eye contact to focus back on the net he’s mending. You swallow at the slight though abrupt awkwardness that now hangs in the air. Your father is known for his patience—your parents’ courtship inspired numerous legends after all—and you know that despite your rejection he’ll try to offer you more opportunities to connect with each other. You’re not quite sure how you feel about that yet, but he doesn’t press any further and returns to his task. You look around; most everything is in the same place and you feel a sense of deja vu, remembering when you were still too small to reach the top shelves and how your father would lift you up so you could retrieve the fish hooks as you drag your index finger against its handcrafted edges. You’re not sure quite when the rift started to develop between the two of you, but it’s clear that he’s letting you set the closeness—or lack thereof—of your relationship. You leave your father to his net with a short acknowledgment and he waves at you as he makes his way to his canoe by the river. Feeling a little unsettled (though not enough to change your mind), you set off towards the watering hole nearby, wanting to cool off during this hot, sticky day. [[Continue|1.14.21]]

The air is heavy with the afternoon heat and you can feel a bead of sweat trailing down the nape of your neck. Your skin is damp, both from the exercise and the sun, but your combined strength propels you forward fast enough to enjoy a slight breeze. Trees cast spots of shade along the riverbank and from amongst the leaves come the sound of the chirps, rustles, and calls of animals. Under you, the water is shimmering and clear. You can see when the river deepens, the algae covered rocks making up the bottom disappearing past the sunlight. It’s a serene life your parents have created for themselves, one that they’ll always keep open for you to return to. You<<if $LMpoints lte 1>> can’t help but<</if>> smile at the reassuring thought. Eventually you slow down, lifting the paddles out of the water and just letting the flow of the river carry the canoe. You turn around to share the moment with your father. The sun reflecting off of the river lights him from below, adding to the powerful aura that always hovers around him. Mapulon possesses a paradoxically reliable adaptability. It’s hard to find him out of his element. “How have you been recently?” “You know how it is here, anak,” Mapulon sits with his back completely straight, even on a canoe. “The same pattern every day if we’re lucky. Hope we’re prepared if not.” <<if $blue gt $purple and $blue gt $red>>“Don’t think I didn’t notice,” you chide, though your smile is fond.<</if>><<if $purple gt $blue and $purple gt $red>>“Smooth dodge,” you roll your eyes, the corner of your lips quirking.<</if>><<if $red gt $blue and $red gt $purple>>“Deflections hardly work on me anymore,” you press your lips firmly, though fondness softens your tone.<</if>> “That told me nothing about you.” “I can’t get anything past you now, hm?” Mapulon leans forward toward you, elbows resting on his knees. His gaze rests somewhere past your shoulder. Your father’s always served as a dam for you and your mother, his steadfastness keeping your troubles at bay. He considers it his responsibility, one he readily signed up for when he sought out Lakapati and started a family. Mapulon kept the War of the Divine away from the terraces. He managed to stay neutral throughout the conflict despite his potential to sway it as he saw fit. Such is the leverage of Bulul: neither side can afford to lose their largest supply of food during a war. And trying to wrest control of it from Mapulon and Lakapati would be courting disaster; Bathala granted Bulul to them and them alone. The conqueror would win the spoils of barren crops and empty rivers. “The deities have been slow to let down their guard toward each other since the war,” your father admits. “It’s made cooperation and balance… arduous.” “I can see that,” you nod along. You’re always careful to consider in whose domain you are when journeying, as well as their stance during the war. “Does this have to do with Amansinaya’s upcoming visit?” “Yes and no,” Mapulon meets your eyes. “Amansinaya is generally reasonable but she’s not the only one involved in these sorts of issues.” “Have you talked to Nanay about this?” You frown, knowing there isn’t a fix either of you can enact for this. Deities don’t have to deal with consequences the same way mortals do; there is no fear of regret on one’s death bed. They can certainly afford to hold onto the biggest grudges or the most minimal of slights for as long as they want. “A little.” You send him a level look. “You were there when I told her about the visit at lunch,” he adds. “I’ll just see how it goes and then update your mother. She’s got enough to worry about, what with the decreased offerings.” “You dont have to take care of everything, you know,” you nudge him, despite knowing from past experience how stubborn he can be about things like this. <<if $LMpoints gt 1>>You feel you owe it to him to point it out just the same.<</if>> “Well, as long as you take care of yourself, that’s one less thing I have to worry about then,” he smiles at you indulgently. He’s got you there. You dip your head and chuckle while Mapulon picks up the rows once again. [[Continue|1.14.12]]

<><<set $powersummon to $powersummon + 2>><>You walk back to the house with your father after your canoe ride, sharing stories about some of the requests you’ve received through prayers. Sometimes, the most outlandish wishes serve as inspiration for innovation, something the gods all pride themselves in as it gives them justification to expand their gifts. Mapulon is amused for the most part; particularly about how you helped one of the lakan, a chief, locate a lost bull that apparently symbolized the truce between two contentious families in their barangay. Their village is one of the larger ones in the region and the families’ neighbors certainly wasted no time in spreading the story around. It was the titter of the barangay even after you found the bull wandering the forests surrounding them; the lakan demanded that the families work together to bring it home, exasperated with their conflict and unwilling to lend them any more resources in order to resolve it. “Must have been quite a bull,” Mapulon chuckles to himself. “I would’ve left them all behind too if I had to deal with those mortals all the time,” <<if $blue gt $purple and $blue gt $red>>you drop your voice as if sharing a secret, though your smile betrays you.<</if>><<if $purple gt $blue and $purple gt $red>>you grin conspiratorially at him, which gets you a short laugh.<</if>><<if $red gt $blue and $red gt $purple>>you provide disapprovingly while your father gives you an amused shake of his head.<</if>> You continue the short walk back home, trading stories with an easy rhythm. Your parents’ thatched roof is in sight when you realize that they have a visitor. The wind carries a deep, gravelly voice mixed with the flowing cadence of your mother’s to your ears and you turn to your father, a question lifting the arch of your eyebrow. “Were you expecting anyone today?” “I’m sure whoever it is arrived with a problem that needs solving,” Mapulon smiles ruefully and steps forward to lead the way back to the house. [[Continue|1.15]]

<><<set $metduma to true>><>When you reach the house you find your mother in a heated conversation. The visitor’s broad back is to you, curved towards Lakapati attentively. She spots you over his shoulder and places a gentle hand on it before waving. <<if $LMpoints gte 2>>You wave back and she beckons you and your father over.<</if>> The visitor turns around once Lakapati’s attention shifts and you immediately recognize him. Dumakulem, god of mountains and hunting. He schools his expression somewhat at your arrival, though the remnants of a furrow still remain on his stern brow. You can see his tension in the tightness of his posture: his tattooed arms are crossed, muscles flexing against his gold arm bands. The scar running a jagged diagonal line across his chest is red from strain. There’s a layer of sweat brightening his tanned skin, as if his emotions are squeezing themselves out of him in beads of salt. Duma bows to Mapulon once he’s close enough and brings your father’s knuckles to his forehead in respectful greeting. He rises back to his full height and regards you with piercing steely green eyes. <<if $height is "very tall" or $height is "tall">>You meet his discerning gaze easily<</if>><<if $height is "average" or $height is "short">>You have to tilt your chin up to meet his discerning gaze<</if>><<if $height is "petite">>His height over you magnifies his discerning gaze<</if>> and you return his look<<if $blue gt $purple and $blue gt $red>> with a slight smile of acknowledgement<</if>><<if $purple gt $blue and $purple gt $red>> with a cheeky smirk<</if>><<if $red gt $blue and $red gt $purple>> with your own<</if>>. <ul class = "arrow"> <li>[[“What brings you here? Is everything alright?” you inquire.|1.16][$proactive to $proactive + 1]]</li> <li>[[You observe as Lakapati catches you and your father up to their conversation.|1.16][$reactive to $reactive + 1]]</li></ul>

<><<set $powersummon to $powersummon + 1>><>Refreshed after cooling off, you walk back towards the house. The thatched roof is in sight when you realize that your parents have a visitor. The wind carries a deep, gravelly voice mixed with the flowing cadence of your mother’s voice to your ears and your lips purse, weighed down by a question. Surely if your parents were expecting someone they would’ve told you? This visitor is likely unexpected, which typically means that someone is asking for their help and guidance. You resign yourself to entertaining them as you get closer to the house. You’re rather used to sudden visits from the other gods—most of them like to stay on your parents’ good graces given their control over the gods’ source of sustenance. If they’ve lost something then at least you might <<if $blue gt $purple and $blue gt $red>>be able to help<</if>><<if $purple gt $blue and $purple gt $red>>find some amusement<</if>><<if $red gt $blue and $red gt $purple>>put your gifts to good use.<</if>> [[Continue|1.15]]

<<if $reactive gt $proactive>>“Duma has some concerns,” Lakapati begins with a slight frown. Your father steps closer. “What’s going on?” Duma shifts, widening his stance as his feet dig deeper into the soil under you. One of his hands squeezes around his bicep and he lets out an unsettled exhale. “Forgive my imposition,” Duma’s hard eyes glance over to you in acknowledgment. “I didn’t realize $name was here.” “Nothing to forgive,” your mother reassures kindly as your father nods in agreement, hand gesturing for Duma to answer his question.<<else>>Duma’s hard eyes pass over you one more time and you can’t help but feel scrutinized, measured against a standard only he’s aware of. You stand up straighter, gaze not wavering from his, and you can see the resulting spark of approval at your response. “Is everything alright?” you repeat, eyebrow raised.<</if>> You and Duma are part of the same generation of gods, the ones that came after Bathala created the earth. Critical in nature, he’s known for bucking the expectation of inherent deference. If Duma respects you, it means you’ve had to earn it. His reputation is well known so you’ve never really had reason to take it personally. And besides, he’s the first one to speak up when he feels as if the elder gods are disregarding the opinions and perspectives of the younger ones. Your paths cross every now and then on earth when your responsibilities take you to the mountains and when he visits your parents, like now. You can see the calculating logic in the depths of his eyes before he seems to make a decision about how much he’s willing to reveal. He likely didn’t expect you to be home, known as you are for flitting to and from Kaluwalhatian on your frequent searches. [[Continue|1.17]]

Duma’s shoulders drop slightly in resignation and he lets out an aggravated huff before responding. “It’s about Apolaki.” Your parents share a look and you recognize the concern in their expressions. Apolaki is the god of the sun and the son of the creator himself, Bathala. He and his sister Mayari, goddess of the moon, share the responsibilities of ruling over the earth and Kaluwalhatian. The god of the sun is notorious for being a volatile mix of confrontational and impulsive, though thankfully he’s more apt to listen to others’ counsel these days. You know that Duma holds Apolaki’s ear, so if he’s concerned then it must be about something more than just a petty squabble born out of immortal boredom. Lakapati nods sagely, already predicting your reactions. Duma elaborates to temper your alarm. “Nothing has happened. Yet. Though…” he chooses his words intentionally, eyes glancing up into the darkening sky as he reaches for the right ones. “I sense a new tension between him and Mayari.” “I see,” Mapulon’s lips purse thoughtfully. “What has changed recently?” “He’s restless whenever Mayari takes over after sunset. Like he’s pacing across the seas and the skies every day waiting for a reason to pounce,” Duma frowns. “When I say it out loud it sounds so trivial. But I can’t help but feel like there’s something I’m not seeing.” <ul class = "arrow"> <li>[[“Have you talked to anyone else about it?”|1.18]]</li> <li>[[“You’re probably right to trust your instincts, especially about those two.”|1.18][$dfriendpts to $dfriendpts + 1]]</li> <li>[[“Isn’t that his job? To travel across the seas and the skies?”|1.18][$dfriendpts to $dfriendpts - 1]]</li></ul>

<<back "Return">>

<<if $dfriendpts gt 0>>You know that Duma resides mainly amongst the mountains on earth, teaching mortals how to hunt and provide for themselves, and sees Apolaki often. The god of the sun travels across earth during the day as part of his responsibilities as ruler. “Apolaki’s emotions have always surfaced readily,” Duma reflects, meeting your eye as he nods. “I haven't brought this up with anybody else yet,” his tone is layered with the request that your family be discreet.<</if>><<if $dfriendpts lt 0>>Duma squints at you and for a beat he lets you sit in the still silence you just caused. The moment passes and he brushes past it, not even acknowledging your comment. “If you feel like it’s significant then it’s significant,” Mapulon steps back in. Duma nods at him after considering his words, shoulders loosening just a little. “I haven't brought this up with anybody else yet,” his tone is layered with the request that your family be discreet.<</if>><<if $dfriendpts eq 0>>“I haven't brought this up with anybody else yet,” his tone is layered with the request that your family be discreet.<</if>> “I don’t need the pantheon misconstruing my concern as an attempt to undermine him.” You already know that your parents will keep this to themselves. They stay out of the deities’ arguments when they can, though they position themselves to always know which way the winds are blowing. Even if they didn’t get along well with Duma it would be disadvantageous to lose the trust of someone with such close ties to both Apolaki and the mortals. You… <ul class = "arrow"> <li>[[…learned from your parents. You’d prefer to leverage your insights to circumvent conflict.|1.19][$diplomat to $diplomat + 1]]</li> <li>[[…respect your parents’ methods but would typically rather enforce your strength directly.|1.19][$fighter to $fighter + 1]]</li></ul>

“Have you noticed anything?” Duma is sharp all over: in his tone, in his stance, in his build. His energy is such a contrast to your parents’ smooth edges, which are like polished rocks. Duma shakes those in his presence into awareness. “Well,” Mapulon sucks his cheek in displeasure. Your parents’ eyes meet for half a beat before your father shares his concerns about the mortals’ smaller offerings with Duma. The younger god receives the news thoughtfully, brows knit together as he recalibrates to take the new information into account. “Do you think the two are related?” you ask. Duma would know best regarding what’s going on with the mortals. “Humans are fickle, yes,” he allows for your father’s sake. “But?” Lakapati prods. “There’s usually a reason behind their actions, nonsensical as it might be to a god,” he says it with a surety that belies his experience. “When was the last time you were on earth?” “Several weeks ago, after the dry season harvest.” The harvests are significant for both of your parents as they typically mark the shift of the seasons on earth from wet to dry and then back again. They visit their most favored during the weeks of harvesting and then replanting, celebrating the success of the season with the mortals and listening directly to their wishes about the upcoming one. Lakapati and Mapulon only leave Kaluwalhatian a handful of times a year; maintaining the terraces takes up most of their time and energy. “I can look into it for you,” Duma’s sense of responsibility adds weight to his words. <ul class = "arrow"> <li>[[“I can help too,” you offer.|1.20.1][$LMpoints to $LMpoints + 1]]</li> <li>[[You let Duma help your parents find out what’s going on.|1.20.2]]</li></ul>

<><<set $helpduma to true>><>“Unrest in the mortals and the ruling gods? It could be a coincidence, but probably not,” you reason. “Thank you $name,” Lakapati squeezes your wrist gratefully. “I’m sure I’ll find some useful things along the way,” you smile at her in response. Duma nods with resolution. “We can leave whenever you’re ready.” “Already? It’s almost dinner time!” your mother protests as the hand on your wrist shifts so she can wrap an arm around your waist. “$name has only been here less than a day.” Duma meets your eyes and for the first time today you can detect the hint of amusement and a smile in his expression. He knows how doting your mother can be, having been on the receiving end of it himself. “I can’t possibly say no to dinner here, can I?” “No. You cannot,” your mother chides playfully as they lead you all back to the house, in step with your father as he pulls them to his side with an arm on their shoulders. [[Continue|1.21]]

“I’ll visit some of the nearby farms myself, help you figure out which of the katalonan you’ll need to get in contact with if needed,” Duma supplies. “Oh thank you Duma,” your mother smiles at him gratefully. You can’t help the slight twinge in your chest, the insecurity that your parents might be closer to Duma than they are to you. “I should go then. Thank you for listening to me about Apolaki.” “Are you sure?” Lakapati looks at him closely. “It seems like you might have more on your mind. And it’s almost dinner time besides.” A corner of Duma’s mouth lifts slightly in a small smile. “How can I say no? The spices here are sublime.” Your mother leads you all back to the house, in step with your father as he pulls them to his side with an arm on their shoulders. [[Continue|1.21]]

<><<set $dumacodex to true>><>@@.heading3;⋗ Deities and spirits updated: Dumakulem ⋖@@ Dinner is a delicious affair. Instead of dining inside the house you sit at a table on a grassy edge of one of the terraces. A long rectangular table is the centerpiece of the area, hugged by benches running parallel. The utilitarian lines of the wood could be considered simple if it weren’t for the designs carved into its surface. Across its length is a depiction of a story your parents used to tell you to lull you to sleep during the most humid nights. The first image is of Bathala on his throne, hands outstretched to your parents. He’s passing them a glowing orb floating over his palms as they hold their own out to receive it. The next shows your parents journeying across different landscapes—valleys, jungles, mountains—as the orb helps them navigate their path towards Bathala’s gift. Lastly, the carving shows Bulul in progress, with your parents packing the mud of the terraces with their own hands. Your mother sets the table, flattening out banana leaves while guiding you and Duma to place plates and bowls on top. Your father tends to the chicken roasting on the fire and the smell of herbs, spices, and meat mingles with the sizzling sound of fat dripping onto the flames. Mapulon and Lakapati are arguably the best cooks in Kaluwalhatian, and for all their humility they take immense pride in their hospitality. Duma accepts their <<if $LMpoints lt 0>>overbearing <</if>>attention with the graciousness of someone who’s been showered in large quantities of it before, delighting in the bits of meat that your father serves him off of the spit roast to gauge its flavor and readiness. When the table is set—chicken in the middle with rice, fruits, and vegetables surrounding it in appetizing piles on the leaves—your parents take seats opposite each other, leaving you next to your mother and directly in front of Duma. In the dying sunlight the deep green glow of his eyes shines brighter past the hazel of his irises, highlighting the sharp lines of his face. There’s less tension in his demeanor now and Mapulon notices it too, making a joke about how good food can quell even the most unsettled of tempers. You watch as Duma’s expression lightens into a rueful chuckle. His nose crinkles at the bridge and the deep contour of his cheekbones caves in to form endearingly unexpected dimples. <ul class = "arrow"> <li>[[It’s nice to see him more relaxed.|1.22][$dfriendpts to $dfriendpts + 1]]</li> <li>[[You’ve always thought he was rather handsome.|1.22][$dromancepts to $dromancepts + 1]]</li> <li>[[Their banter is well practiced and familiar, you note.|1.23]]</li></ul>

Duma holds himself—and from what you can tell, those around him—to an incredibly high standard. It’s rare to see him fully relaxed; there’s a tension in his broad shoulders that paradoxically seems to both weigh on him and push him forward. Even now you can see it, camouflaged as it is by his environment. Your paths have crossed often enough for you to want to get to know him more. Despite your parents serving as mutual connection, your habits and responsibilities have prevented you from spending any meaningful amounts of time with him.<<if $dromancepts gt 0>> With long hair that dances in the light breeze, an unshakeable conviction, and strength constantly on display through both his demeanor and physique, it’s hard not to find Duma compelling.<</if>> <<if $purple gt $blue or $purple gt $red>>“Thanks for helping keep my parents company when I’m gone,” your words are light, polished with playfulness. Despite your easy affectation Duma’s eyes narrow slightly—whether in discernment or distaste you don’t quite know him well enough to tell. You let your smirk grow into a grin in an attempt to alleviate his suspicion. Eventually Duma nods, chin tilting towards the spread of food on the table. “They’ve always made me feel welcome.” “If only every problem could be solved with some roast chicken, huh?” Duma lets out a breath through his nose that could almost be interpreted as amusement. “I’ll try that with Apolaki next, see how it goes.” “Wow, was that a joke?” “You’re not the only funny one around here,” Duma volleys back drily. You can’t help the snicker that escapes your lips.<</if>><<if $blue gt $purple and $blue gt $red>>“Agreed,” you tilt your chin towards your father then nod at the food spread out between you. “Where else in Kaluwalhatian can you get a better meal?” Despite your attempt at being inviting, Duma’s eyes narrow slightly. You can almost feel him gauging your sincerity or whether or not this is a test and deepen the curl of your smile to alleviate his suspicion. “Nowhere but the House of Bathala,” he eventually concedes. “Though all the food there comes from here anyway.” “They should be so lucky to sit here and eat straight from the terraces like us.” That seems to have been the right thing to say, since Duma responds simply with a slight upturn of his lips.<</if>><<if $red gt $blue and $red gt $purple>>“Nothing like a good meal to clean up the day’s mess, right?” Despite your attempt at niceties, Duma’s eyes narrow slightly—whether in discernment or distaste you don’t quite know him well enough to tell. You gesture for him to take the last chicken thigh to alleviate his suspicion. If food can’t serve as a sign of good will then you don’t know what can. It’s almost a relief when Duma reaches over and moves it closer to him to claim it. No wonder your parents took a liking to him—he’s just as, if not more than, taciturn as you. “It seems to work well enough for your parents,” Duma eyes flick over to them, a touch of wryness in his gaze. “I hear your rice has stopped wars before.”<</if>><<if $dromancepts gt 0>> Firelight glimmers against Duma’s bronze skin, highlighting the intricate shapes and lines of the tattoos that cover his torso and arms. Jagged bands representing the mountains he protects wrap around his wrist and forearm. Shapes resembling rice stalks peek out from past his thick gold cuffs and arrow patterns on his upper arms bulge against the band around his bicep. Your eyes follow them as they trail along his broad shoulders, curve onto his chest, and down his ribs as they disappear past the fabric of his waistline. The only imperfection is a large scar under the meticulous lines of his tattoos, stretching from his left collarbone to his top right rib in a jagged, pinkish brown line. It’s customary for deities to expose their chests—it can be blisteringly hot, even in Kaluwalhatian—but with Duma his lack of clothing is notable. <<if $proactive gt $reactive>>You use the conversation over dinner as an excuse to drink him in, <<else>>Your eyes flit across the table whenever you feel like you can take a chance, <</if>>savoring his presence while you can. Beside you, laughter escapes your mother. You find yourself chuckling along with her despite not having heard the punchline to blend back into the conversation—though in your peripheral you could swear you catch Duma glancing back at you.<</if>> [[Continue|1.23]]

Since your parents prepared the meal, it’s only appropriate that you tidy up afterwards. Responsible as ever, Duma stays behind with you, covering the fire in a mound of dense soil with a wave of his hand. You note the display of his gifts, so casual as to be commonplace. Your parents have similar control over the elements, but with your particular dominion over lost things, you never inherited it. Bathala grants gifts to the deities as he sees fit—one of the ways he maintains balance over his creation now that he’s handed control over earth to two of his children. As the creator god it’s his prerogative to break off pieces of his own power and distribute them; there is nothing that any deity can do that Bathala cannot. Some gifts are inherent for all, like deities’ own collections of anito tailored to help with their particular responsibilities. Sometimes Bathala will grant more, if a deity’s responsibilities have evolved or shifted and they need control over something else that would serve better. But that hasn’t happened recently; perhaps due to the relative stability resulting from Apolaki and Mayari’s truce. It makes sense that Duma would have power over the earth. It would be all around him most of the time and useful for hunting as well as battle. <<if $helpduma is true and $dfriendpts gt 0>>You’re pondering what other gifts Duma may have as you’re walking back to the house together when he speaks up. “Thank you for agreeing to accompany me tomorrow.” You nod, already curious about what you’ll find. And, you consider, getting to know Duma better is an added benefit too. “I’ll take any excuse to visit new places. And if it helps my parents, even better.”<<else>>You ponder the gifts Bathala has granted you. As far as you know he’s never offered explanation to any of the gods about his choices. Half the gods think that he has some sort of Sight that no one else has (perhaps how he is able to give the gift of Wisdom?) and the other half thinks that Apolaki must have gotten his impulsiveness from somewhere.<</if>> <<if $helpduma is true>>[[Continue|1.24.1]]<<else>>[[Continue|1.24.2]]<</if>>

When you reach your parents back at the house, Duma bids his goodbyes. He’s immediately met with coaxing and cajoling to stay; it’s late, your parents argue, and you two are leaving together tomorrow morning anyway, right? He slides a glance your way for direction. “Well, it would be more efficient.” “The guest house is prepared,” your mother chirps. “You can bathe in the springs if you need to.” It’s only when they frame it as thanks for assisting them that Duma finally relents. He affords your parents an indulgent bow before they wave you both off, retiring together for the night. “I can show you the way to the guest house,” you offer, tilting your head towards a torch lit path. “Where are you staying?” Duma asks as you turn away from the steps your parents just ascended. “I still have a house here too,” it’s the exact same as it always is; your parents are vocally intentional about making sure you still have somewhere that’s yours within their home. “That’s thoughtful of them.” “I’m rather certain my parents invented the concept of hospitality.” Duma lets out an amused huff through his nose. “I suppose I can spend one night away from my mountain and on yours instead.” “The hot springs will be worth it.” “Looking forward to them.”<<if $dromancepts gt 0>> Through your peripherals you watch as Duma stretches: arms reaching up over his head, skin rippling as his muscles shift. There’s tension in the way his shoulders bunch up by his ears, exhaustion in the way they drop.<</if>> <ul class = "arrow"> <li><<if $proactive gte $reactive>>[[“You strike me as someone that could use some help relaxing,” you point out, testing the waters between you.|1.24.11][$dromancepts to $dromancepts + 1]]<<else>>[[You shift your eyes forward, resolutely not thinking about Duma surrounded by steam.|1.24.11][$dromancepts to $dromancepts + 1]]<</if>></li> <li>[[“My parents might’ve just been plotting to get you to rest all along, actually.”|1.24.12][$dfriendpts to $dfriendpts + 1]]</li></ul>

When you reach your parents back at the house, Duma bids his goodbyes. It takes a while but your parents finally let him go, a full basket of crops in hand in exchange for his help tomorrow. He promises to let them know as soon as he discovers something before making his way back down the mountain. Once Duma leaves you turn to your parents and say good night with a promise to join them for their morning meal. You follow a torchlit path to your own hut, accompanied only by the chirping of insects echoing in the trees around you, interrupted every now and then by the hoot of an owl. You feel the weariness from the day’s events as you reach the house you built with your parents when you grew old enough to need your own space. It’s the exact same as it always is; they’re vocally intentional about making sure you still have somewhere that’s yours within their home. As you perform your nightly ablutions you ponder what you learned today. Are the winds shifting? The balance the deities are tasked with maintaining is fragile, even historically volatile at times depending on whose whim is being followed. Regardless, you chose not to help because you want to stay far, far away from it. [[Continue|1.24.21]]

<<if $proactive gt $reactive>>You keep your voice light, breezy. Enough of a suggestion to pick up on, but not too much that he can’t escape acknowledging it if he wants to. You chance a glance at his expression and find him observing you. His bottom lip juts out a little, endearingly thoughtful. You let your expression unfurl into an easy smile, brows raised just slightly. He holds your gaze for another beat. Up close he’s so intent, every move measured. It adds weight to everything he says and does. “Is this you helping me then?” he looks you up and down. Whereas earlier his discernment had made you feel slightly defensive, now he leaves you with the subtle thrill of being exposed. “Not yet.” The response is reflexive, along with the bit of suggestion curling your lips. He’s rather clever under that aloofness apparently<<if $purple gt $red and $purple gt $blue>>, and you’ve got to keep up<</if>>. “I’ll remember to ask for it,” his gruffness belies something else in his tone and you smile to yourself, feeling a little satisfied.<</if>><<if $reactive gt $proactive>>The cooler breeze of the terraces saves your face from heating up, though there’s no denying the flush creeping up your neck. Maybe you should start coming home more often, especially if Duma takes a liking to the hot springs here. Does he not have springs in his own mountains? Perhaps he can’t be seen relaxing in his own domain—there are deities in the pantheon that would count that against him, after all. Definitely explains your parents’ insistence that he stay— “Are you worried about tomorrow?” Duma’s deep voice pulls you out from your thoughts and you look over to find him observing you. “No reason to be, if you are,” he taps the hilt of the sword at his hip with an open palm, apparently mistaking your distraction for anxiety. Duma can be surprisingly attentive; there’s a weight to the way he looks at you that makes you feel taken care of. “Oh—” you refrain from betraying your thoughts to him, opting instead for a grateful look. “Thank you Duma.” He hums in acknowledgment, eyeing you for another beat before looking away to the path in front of you.<</if>> [[Continue|1.24.12]]

You follow the torchlit path to your destination in a silence that is somewhere between thoughtful and relaxed. The chirping of insects echo in the trees around you, interrupted every now and then by the hoot of an owl. “How often do you visit Bulul?” you prod after a second. Your parents are so familiar with him, but this is the first time you’ve seen him at home. “Every now and then. My responsibilities keep me busy,” A hard look glints in his eyes for a fleeting second. “If it’s been too long though I can be sure to expect an earful.” <<if $purple gt $blue and $purple gt $red>>“You and me both,” you chuckle.<<else>>“I can relate.”<</if>> “You don’t seem to be here too often either,” he observes. <<if $purple gt $blue and $purple gt $red>>“My responsibilities keep me busy,” you echo, lips twisting into a cheeky smile.<<else>>“People need my help,” you supply matter of factly.<</if>> If Bathala wanted you to stay home he would’ve given you dominion over something else. Exploration and discovery have dictated your entire life; as whole as your youngest years were here, your being seeks freedom. “Here we are,” you signal when you reach the guest house. “If you need anything feel free to summon any of the anito. And I’m right down this path.” “Ever hospitable,” Duma gives you a wry look. “Of course,” <<if $purple gt $red and $purple gt $blue>>you bow, exaggeratedly low to extend your budding inside joke.<<else>>you respond, feeling like you’ve begun at least some sort of rapport with Duma.<</if>> “Tomorrow they’ll expect us to eat with them in the morning, but we can leave right after.” Duma nods and you bid him good night. <<if $dromancepts gte 2>>You smile to yourself as you walk back, pulse beating a little faster as you look forward to tomorrow with him.<</if>> [[Continue|1.24.13]]

A rooster wakes you up. You can’t say you miss it but the jarring sound is homey nonetheless. You rise with a sense of purpose, mind on your trip to earth as you <<if $clothing is "bahag" or $clothing is "baro and bahag">>wrap your loincloth around your waist<</if>><<if $clothing is "tapis" or $clothing is "baro and tapis">>wrap your skirt around your waist<</if>><<if $clothing is "dress">>slip into your dress. You’re not sure what to expect and grateful you’ll have Duma with you<</if>>. <<if $clothing is "baro and bahag" or $clothing is "baro and tapis">>You slip your arms through the sleeves of your jacket, not sure what to expect and grateful you’ll have Duma with you.<</if>> You prepared your things the night before so once you get dressed you make your way down the steps and to your parents’ house. Duma doesn’t seem like someone that appreciates having to wait. Your pace isn’t quite the meander it was yesterday but you still take the time to appreciate the terraces in the early morning. The sun peeks over the jagged edges of the mountain tops, its light spilling over to the shadowed side and reflecting in the topographical lines of the rice fields, making them look like steps leading into the sky. There’s a haziness in the air that tells you a fog blankets the valley nestling the farm. You spot Duma outside of the guest house, crouched over his unsheathed sword. His brow is furrowed and he’s looking down at his weapon like he’s trying to figure out whether or not it insulted him. “Are you alright?” you ask as you approach. He looks up at you, expression smoothing out. “Yes. I usually sharpen my sword in the mornings but I forgot that I don’t have my whetstone.” “Oh, I can help with that,” <<if $purple gt $blue and $purple gt $red>>you quip impishly<<else>>you nod decisively<</if>>. Something like a whetstone should be feasible for your current summoning abilities. “Tell me what you’ve lost.” “I haven’t lost—” You give him an encouraging look. “Ah,” Understanding dawns on his face like the morning sun. “Help me, $name, ?deity of lost things. I can’t seem to find my whetstone.” The image of it gradually forms, though you have to reach for it: a rectangular slab of dark stone, surface littered with the scratches of Duma’s blades. You envision taking it from where it is and your palm warms up in the places it touches. You extend it, hand open to Duma. He looks at the stone bobbing above your skin, meeting your eyes with at least a little bit of amazement. He plucks it out of your palm and weighs it as if to gauge whether or not it’s the real thing. <<if $purple gt $red and $purple gt $blue>>“I’m not the ?deity of copied things, you know,” you let out a short laugh.<</if>><<if $blue gt $purple and $blue gt $red>>“It’s real, don’t worry,” you reassure him.<</if>><<if $red gt $blue and $red gt $purple>>“I wouldn't try to trick you,” you say matter-of-factly.<</if>> “What a useful gift,” Duma thanks you before returning his attention to the blade before him. Seems like his routine can’t be interrupted. “I’ll meet you—“ “$name! Duma!” Lakapati’s voice calls out to you and you turn your head to see her and your father approaching you in a brisk walk. They look tense, shoulders scrunched and mouths set in frowns. “What’s the matter?” you ask. It’s almost impossible to ruffle your father. “We’ve been summoned to the House of Bathala.” “What?” you shake your head as if to clear away the fog. “Why?” Mapulon swallows roughly, arms crossing as he looks you in the eye and answers. “The moon is gone.” [[End chapter|2.0]]

@@.heading2;Maraming salamat!@@ Thank you so much for playing! Make sure to follow Eye of the Moon on [[Tumblr|https://eyeofthemoongame.tumblr.com]] to get the latest updates! If you're enjoying the game, you can leave me a tip on my @@.link;[[Ko-fi|https://ko-fi.com/atemaarte]]@@. The base game for Eye of the Moon will always be free to play so your tips mean a lot! Monthly subscribers on Ko-fi get early access to each update as well as sneak peeks and exclusive content through the official [[Discord server|https://discord.gg/J8UNjEVqn3]]. <<click "Special thanks to my monthly Ko-fi subscribers!">><<toggleclass "#kofi" "hidden">><</click>><div id="kofi" class="hidden">&emsp;&emsp;lilas &emsp;&emsp;sword-envy &emsp;&emsp;tath &emsp;&emsp;Keegan &emsp;&emsp;Soy</div> <a href='https://ko-fi.com/O5O51Y5LW' target='_blank'><img height='36' style='border:0px;height:36px;' src='https://cdn.ko-fi.com/cdn/kofi1.png?v=3' border='0' alt='Support me on Ko-fi' /></a> Feel free to fill out some short surveys regarding MC customization, story choices, and relationships. [[Chapter One survey|https://forms.gle/aYaNLVZUWscjgpmW9]] [[Chapter Two survey|https://forms.gle/thkgSPetLFcoAm2TA]] Until next time. 💖 <<link "Replay the game">><<run UI.restart()>><</link>>

A rooster wakes you up. You can’t say you miss it but the jarring sound is homey nonetheless. You rise easily, body moving automatically as you <<if $clothing is "bahag" or $clothing is "baro and bahag">>wrap your loincloth around your waist<</if>><<if $clothing is "tapis" or $clothing is "baro and tapis">>wrap your skirt around your waist<</if>><<if $clothing is "dress">>slip into your dress<</if>>. <<if $clothing is "baro and bahag" or $clothing is "baro and tapis">>You slip your arms through the sleeves of your jacket, mind already shuffling through how you can occupy yourself today.<</if>> <<if $LMpoints gt 0>>Last night you decided to stay on the terraces for at least another day. Spending time with your parents has been a reprieve and you know it brings them comfort to have you around.<<else>>Before you went to sleep you decided you’re leaving today and resuming your wandering. You prepared your things the night before so once you get dressed you make your way down the steps and to your parents’ house for breakfast.<</if>> Your pace isn’t quite the meander it was yesterday but you still take the time to appreciate the terraces in the early morning. The sun peeks over the jagged edges of the mountain tops, its light spilling over to the shadowed side and reflecting in the topographical lines of the rice fields, making them look like steps leading into the sky. There’s a haziness in the air that tells you a fog blankets the valley nestling the farm. “$name!” Lakapati’s voice calls out to you and you turn your head to see her and your father approaching you in a brisk walk. They look tense, shoulders scrunched and mouths set in frowns. “What’s the matter?” you ask. It’s almost impossible to ruffle your father. “We’ve been summoned to the House of Bathala.” “What?” you shake your head as if to clear away the fog. “Why?” Mapulon swallows roughly, arms crossing as he looks you in the eye and answers. “The moon is gone.” [[End chapter|2.0]]

@@.heading1;KALUWALHATIAN@@ @@.footnote;[ka-loo-wal-ha-TEE-an] a place of glory, splendor@@ @@.legend1;The sea mirrors the sky and so too does the earth mirror Kaluwalhatian@@ @@.footnote;- oral legend@@ When mortals look up into the cosmos, they witness the glory of Kaluwalhatian. What they perceive to be the skies above the earth are the seas of the gods. Constellations mark deities’ domains and serve the ones below as maps and guides. Bathala, the supreme god, created Kaluwalhatian as a land in harmony with itself. As gods ascended he provided them with their own territory to protect and care for. For the mortals he created the earth, a reflection of Kaluwalhatian in intent and design if not in splendor and breadth. <<if $bululcodex is true>>[[Bulul Terraces]]<<else>>@@.emphasis;Undiscovered@@<</if>> <<if $moroporocodex is true>>[[Moroporo]]<<else>>@@.emphasis;Undiscovered@@<</if>> <<if $pulagcodex is true>>[[Mount Pulag]]<<else>>@@.emphasis;Undiscovered@@<</if>> <<back "Return">>

@@.heading1;BULUL TERRACES@@ @@.footnote;[boo-lool]@@ @@.legend1;To climb the steps of Bulul's abundance is to prove that you are a cultivator of the earth as well as its soul.@@ @@.footnote;- a farmer’s vocation@@ Lakapati and Mapulon inherited the Bulul Terraces from Bathala himself. Previously just an untended mountain range, the goddess of agriculture and the god of the seasons devised a complex irrigation system in order to create a farm big enough to sustain all of Kaluwalhatian. Lakapati and Mapulon turned the sides of mountains into terraces that look like stair steps ascending heaven. Bulul’s main harvest is rice, though significant portions of the farms are dedicated to spices, fruits, vegetables, as well as animal rearing. Bulul is home to Lakapati and Mapulon’s family as well as their favored, who have chosen to live within their domain and help tend the terraces. In exchange, Lakapati and Mapulon extend their blessings down their bloodline, always keeping their descendants in their kind care. Because Mapulon was able to keep the War of the Divine away from Bulul, the terraces are now considered somewhat “neutral” within the pantheon. <<back "Return">>

@@.heading1;Dumakulem@@@@.heading2;—god of the mountains and hunting@@ @@.footnote;[du-ma-KOO-lem] he/him@@ Imposing in height and stature, Duma is known for his piercing stare. Duma’s features are sharp all over: from his severe brow, the cut of his cheekbones and jaw, and the high bridge of his nose. His dark hazel eyes often flash between the deep hue of the earth and the vibrant colors of the jungle. Tattoos cover his tanned skin, depicting stories about his gifts and his domain as the hunter god of mountains. His long black hair covers his back, the tips of it reaching the top of his waist cloth. Duma is the son of Idianale, goddess of hard work and good deeds, and Dumangan, god of good harvests. He resides in the mountains on earth, teaching and protecting the mortals within his domain. He is one of the most revered amongst the pantheon because of his reputation as a provider: of sustenance, of guidance, of endurance. Whether hunters are still learning to notch their bows or are tracking down the most elusive of prey, Duma is the recipient of their prayers. Duma’s unique position as a god coexisting with mortals gives him an accurate scope of the balance between human and deity. He takes the responsibilities that Bathala gave him seriously and fights fiercely for those he is devoted to. Steadfast yet critical, Duma’s commanding voice and work-worn hands can move mountains. @@.legend1;Dumakulem, Give me the endurance to pursue and the swiftness to catch@@ @@.footnote;- a hunter’s prayer@@ <<back "Return">>

<<back "Return">>

@@.heading1;THE WAR OF THE DIVINE@@ @@.legend1;When deities fight, the skies tear When siblings fight, the heavens bleed@@ @@.footnote;- oral legend, the War of the Divine@@ Bathala, the supreme god, refrained from passing down some of his most wondrous gifts until his children were ready. To Mayari, his eldest, he gifted his Perception. To Apolaki, his only son, he gifted his Strength. To Tala, his second daughter, he gifted his Guidance. To Hanan, his youngest, he gifted his Hope. Since then, Bathala has appeared amongst the pantheon infrequently and only to his children, seeming to leave the responsibilities of ruling Kaluwalhatian as well as the earth below to Mayari and Apolaki. Apolaki, unhappy with Mayari’s ideals of a shared rule between the two of them, refused her proposal. The goddess could not abide by her brother’s priorities as ruler and cited it as her duty to rein him in. Thus began the War of the Divine. The pantheon’s loyalty split between the two. Those that rallied behind Mayari did so because they agreed with the peace she promised: a continuation of how things are, in mutually beneficial balance with the mortals, as she believes her father intends. Those that sided with Apolaki found peace to be the wish of mortals and not gods. They had brushed against pockets of dark forces rebelling against Bathala’s will, pushing past the bounds of Kasamaan, the underworld. The War lasted until a final battle between Apolaki and Mayari left the goddess blinded in one eye by her brother. It was a jarring reminder for both of them of how far they had strayed from each other; for Apolaki especially as he held his sister, unconscious and bloody, and realized what he had done. Now they divide their rule between day and night; Apolaki as the god of the sun and Mayari as the goddess of the moon, as her ability to brighten the earth dimmed when she lost her eye. Even so, resolution has not come easily between the two rulers. The disagreements that led them to war still exist even despite their truce. The threat brewing in Kasamaan continues to weigh heavily on Apolaki, as much as the necessity to maintain the balance between Kaluwalhatian and earth does on Mayari. <<back "Return">>

A warrior shrouded in yellow light charges at her, sword bright. His dark hair whips behind him as he moves, flashing red in the spots of sunlight. She raises her defenses just in time to deflect him but he’s relentless, pounding at her as the rest of the fighting clears away around them. “Surrender to the rightful ruler, Ate Mayari,” Apolaki spits the honorific out with hostility, as if to denounce the inherent bond between an older sister and a younger brother. “Stop this! You’re destroying the very same dominion you wish to lead!” “We wouldn’t be at war if you hadn’t opposed me!” “All you know is how to start wars, you’ve no knowledge of how to end them or what comes after.” “And all you know is how to hide! Behind gestures, behind words, behind alliances that make us nothing but weak and unprepared!” A scream tears itself out of Mayari’s throat as the energy around her bursts. She pushes Apolaki back with a blast of force and light and knocks his sword out of his hand. She stands over him, panting as the control she has over her rage slips. “If I am weak and unprepared then you are foolish and bloodthirsty. You are amounting to nothing past your penchant for war,” her voice is low, weighed down by her responsibility and her grief. How did they come to this? “I cannot allow you to have sole dominion over our home,” her clenched fist brightens with power, as if the cosmos themselves have concentrated in her hand. “Then you will lose it.” Apolaki kicks one of her knees, forcing her to collapse as the crack of her bone echoes in her ears. Faintly she hears an anguished cry—whether it’s her own or her imagination she can’t be sure. He pulls a dagger from his waist and slashes at her. It catches right under her brow and she shrieks as the pain supersedes all other senses. Deities can’t die, but they can still bleed. [[End prologue|1.0]]

It’s hot and humid most everywhere you go, so you typically… <ul class = "arrow"> <li>[[…keep your chest exposed, wearing only a bahag, a loin cloth.|1.9b][$clothing to "bahag"]]</li> <li>[[…keep your chest exposed, wearing only a tapis, a skirt wrapped around your waist.|1.9b][$clothing to "tapis"]]</li> <li>[[…wear a baro, a cropped jacket with short sleeves, and a bahag.|1.9b][$clothing to "baro and bahag"]]</li> <li>[[…wear a baro and a tapis.|1.9b][$clothing to "baro and tapis"]]</li> <li>[[…wear a light, long dress.|1.9b][$clothing to "dress"]]</li></ul>

You have $eyecolor eyes like your mother, and $haircolor, $hairtexture hair like your father that you wear <<if $hairstyle is "shaven">>shaven<</if>><<if $hairstyle is "short">>short<</if>><<if $hairstyle is "chin-length">>at your chin<</if>><<if $hairstyle is "shoulder-length">>at your shoulders<</if>><<if $hairstyle is "waist-length">>at your waist<</if>><<if $hairstyle is "hip-length">>at your hips<</if>><<if $hairstyle is "ponytail">>up and out of your face<</if>><<if $hairstyle is "braids">>in braids<</if>><<if $hairstyle is "locs">>in locs<</if>>. You accessorize the colorful, embroidered textiles of your <<if $clothing is "bahag">>bahag<</if>><<if $clothing is "tapis">>tapis<</if>><<if $clothing is "baro and bahag">>baro and bahag<</if>><<if $clothing is "baro and tapis">>baro and tapis<</if>><<if $clothing is "dress">>dress<</if>> with gold: threaded through your clothes, in your ears, and around your limbs. [[Continue|1.10]]

{Chapter Two} <<if ndef $lakapatiboat>><<set $lakapatiboat to false>><</if>> <<if ndef $LMscenes>><<set $LMscenes to false>><</if>> <<if ndef $srpoints>><<set $srpoints to 0>><</if>> <<if ndef $questaccepted>><<set $questaccepted to false>><</if>> <<if ndef $helptala>><<set $helptala to false>><</if>> <<if ndef $mcweapon>><<set $mcweapon to "">><</if>> <<if ndef $moroporocodex>><<set $moroporocodex to false>><</if>> <<if ndef $metmayari>><<set $metmayari to false>><</if>> <<if ndef $metapolaki>><<set $metapolaki to false>><</if>> <<if ndef $aswangcodex>><<set $aswangcodex to false>><</if>> <<if ndef $meetfight>><<set $meetfight to false>><</if>>

<div id="chapterheader"><img src="https://i.imgur.com/CHNJCpO.png"/></div> The humid breeze that hangs in the air during monsoon season whips through the high priestess’ wavy hair. It sticks to her skin, long locks splaying down her upper arm like the rivers that gush from the mountain she calls home. She watches as the sun’s grip on the horizon weakens. The sea sparkles with a faint orange before reflecting the dark haze of dusk. Another day has passed and the sun god Apolaki hands the earth to his sister, the moon goddess Mayari. The sounds of the barangay gathering to eat dances around the edges of her awareness: children shrieking as they play, young women laughing about an earlier joke, the half muffled exaggeration from one of the elders as they recant the story of how the anito guided them to their lost spear. It’s a jovial night—most are—but unease shrouds her like the damp air. The anito have been whispering recently, though their voices are distorted as if they are murmuring through the sea. The moon brightens in the sun’s absence. Its light brings some comfort. Until it disappears. [[Continue|2.1]]

The moon is gone again tonight. The high priestess has witnessed a handful of Apolaki and Mayari’s fights in her long life. During her time as an apprentice, Mayari had turned day into night for an afternoon by blocking her brother’s light. But no one has ever heard of either of them absent for more than a day. The sun shines, hot as ever during the season when the days are longest. It’s worrying how little seems to have changed in the cosmos despite the moon’s sudden departure from the night sky. The stars are still the same as they were, the sun still rises and sets to make room for the night. Fishermen have already noted the lower tides, which could affect the barangay’s food stores depending on how long it takes the gods to sort out their differences. She’s considered whether or not the deities could be punishing them but that seems less likely. A message or a way to rectify the deities’ perceived slight typically accompanies their anger; neither mortal nor immortal prefer to remain in contention with each other if it can be resolved. Something deep in her gut tells her that this could be just the beginning. Of what, she knows she doesn’t yet understand. [[Continue|2.2]]

Under her direction, the barangay prepares for the nagaanito: worship and sacrifice for the deities. Some hunt and fish while others prepare the village by cleaning then decorating the altar. Neighbors visit each other, sitting together to weave chains out of palm fronds and to wrap rice cakes in leaves as offerings. The night after the altar and the sacrifices are all ready, the katalonan gather together. Tonight, they pray so that the moon will be found. They call out to $name, ?deity of lost things. "$name, open our eyes so that we can see,” the high priestess chants and the rest of the katalonan follow. Their voices continue on into the night, carrying out from the mountaintop in the hopes of returning balance to the rulers of the sky. “Lead us to what we have lost.” “$name, open our ears so that we can hear.” They dance as they pray, the energy from their bodies bolstering the power of their words. Faith in the gods is one thing, the priestess has learned, but accountability is another. “Lead us to what we have lost.” [[Back in Kaluwalhatian...|2.3]]

<><<set $dumapoints to $dfriendpts + $dromancepts>><>“The moon is gone.” The finality in Mapulon’s voice cuts through the air and sits, hanging as an uncomfortable truth. Beside him, your mother worries her bottom lip, brows furrowed though she still stands tall as ever. “And Mayari?” you finally dare ask. “We received the summons from her directly,” Mapulon’s chest seems to loosen a little as he responds. A bit of relief flushes through you at his confirmation. Contrary to what the mortals believe, the moon and Mayari are not one and the same; just like Apolaki and the sun aren’t. The sun and the moon are, however, extensions of their gifts, helping the siblings fulfill the responsibilities their father left to them. Even if Mayari is accounted for, she’s clearly vulnerable. And if Mayari is vulnerable, then everyone is. <<if $helpduma is true>>“Add this to the list of things that can’t possibly be coincidences,” you direct at Duma, who has risen from crouching over his sword. “Agreed,” Duma nods with certainty. His concerns have just been proven true, though clearly none of them can even comprehend the extent of it right now. “Do you think that Apolaki…?” your mother begins, though she stops herself from fully voicing her thoughts. You watch as Duma, arms crossed, grapples with her implication. His eyes seem to darken, thoughts hiding past their depths. Duma followed Apolaki into war for reasons that even your parents don’t know. It must’ve struck them as odd then; given Duma’s close relationship with the mortals many assumed that he would either join Mayari or try to stay out of it. “It’s hard for me to say,” Duma concedes, clearly troubled. His eyes travel skyward and he seems to be speaking more to himself than to you or your parents. “How? Why?” “Well, we won’t find anything out by staying here,” your father says decisively. “I’ll have the boat prepared.” “I’ve waited long enough. It’s time to speak with Apolaki,” Duma’s demeanor hardens, as if the notion fortifies him rather than burdens him. Mapulon nods in agreement before clapping Duma on his shoulder. “Stay vigilant. And trust yourself.” Duma takes a deep inhale and nods, gratitude softening his expression just a little. He makes eye contact with each of you. “Take care of yourselves.” <<if $blue gt $purple and $blue gt $red>>“You too Duma,” you tell him, knowing the power of intentional well wishes. You’re sure that, perceptive as he is, Duma can see the concern underneath.<</if>><<if $purple gt $blue and $purple gt $red>>“Our trip will have to wait, huh?” you attempt to coat the tension in the air with something lighthearted. Though you’re sure that, perceptive as he is, Duma can see the concern underneath.<</if>><<if $red gt $blue and $red gt $purple>>You nod resolutely, though the way you worry the inside of your cheek belies the anxiety creeping up your spine. Duma gives you a bolstering look in response. “I have a feeling we’ll see each other again soon.”<</if>><</if>><<if $helpduma is false>>You remember Duma’s concerns yesterday, how his intuition detected some instability between Mayari and Apolaki. Maybe you should have taken them more seriously, though what could you have done between then and now anyway? “Do you think that Apolaki…?” your mother begins, though she stops herself from fully voicing her thoughts. You look at each other grimly. If not Apolaki, then who? “Well, we won’t find anything out by staying here,” your father says decisively. “I’ll have the boat prepared.”<</if>> [[Continue|2.4]]

Lakapati and Mapulon prepare Bulul for their departure, moving with practiced efficiency. Your mother instructs the anito you’re leaving behind while your father handles the ones that will journey with you. The spirits’ duties here will remain the same even while your family is away, but even with the unexpected summons it would be impolite to appear in front of Bathala’s children without pasalubong, gifts that both deities and mortals give to one another from their travels. Lakapati directs them to put together a few baskets’ worth of the best from the harvest as well as some already prepared meals before figuring that a few bottles of rice wine wouldn’t hurt either. Mapulon discusses the route you will take to the House of Bathala: a canoe ride down the river will take you and your parents to the ocean where you’ll take the balangay, a larger sailboat, the rest of the way. Your father helps load a canoe before sending the sailors ahead to prepare the balangay. By evening, you’re sitting under the thatched roof on the sailboat, watching as Mapulon’s arms move in a smooth, flowing pattern to control the gust of wind propelling you all forward. Even with the help of your father’s gifts you’ll be sailing through the night. Your family doesn’t have the luxury to delay by stopping, not when the stars illuminating gradually above you leave a markedly blank spot where the moon should be. <<if $helpduma is true or $LTpoints lt 0>>Fortunately you had already packed your things last night, though the House of Bathala was certainly not the destination you had in mind.<</if>><<if $helpduma is false and $LTpoints gt 0>>You had to rush to pack while your parents prepared; you certainly didn’t anticipate having to depart for the House of Bathala on such short notice this morning.<</if>> Lakapati sits across from you, a stray lock of her black hair mimicking the waves underneath your feet. Around her are baskets of rice and produce and one of her thumbs runs over the gold embroidery at the hem of her baro as she stares past the boat and toward the horizon. The tension of this morning’s news keeps her customarily cheerful demeanor at bay and you’re faced with the evidence of a shift between you and your mother, one that you’ve started noticing ever since you struck out on your own. [[Continue|2.5]]

You were still living in Bulul when the War of the Divine erupted: no longer a child but without any business fighting in a war regardless. Looking back you’ve realized that your parents protected you from a lot of its implications; arguably kept you tied to the terraces longer than you wanted back then in order to keep you out of it. They never really let show how they felt day in and day out as the conflict took its toll, not just in Kaluwalhatian but on earth as well. But now, <<if $mapuloncanoe is true>>both of your parents are<<else>>your mother is<</if>> starting to drop the facade with you, even involving you more into their day to day troubles like at lunch yesterday. <<if $LMpoints gte 2>>Despite the circumstances the realization makes you feel bolstered. You’ve always been in it together as a family, but your parents’ vulnerability with you is a strong sign of a deeper relationship with them as well as their respect for you.<<else>>This level of vulnerability is new; even as a ?deity you aren’t immune to the stark, mature, and often repeated epiphany that the parents you once thought were perfect still contend with deep issues and flaws. It’s uncomfortable. You’re not sure what to do with it.<</if>> Lakapati catches your eye and gives you a small, reassuring smile, “What’s on your mind?” <ul> <li>[[“I’m just glad none of us are dealing with this alone,” you respond, a reassurance for her as much as it is for you.|2.6.1][$LMpoints to $LMpoints + 1]]</li> <li>[[“I’m curious about Mayari’s intent,” you deflect impersonally.|2.6.2]]</li></ul>

<<set $lakapatiboat to true>>“Of course,” Lakapati’s smile grows wider—more tender—and they wrap one of your hands in both of theirs. The familiar roughness of their palms reminds you that this, at the very least, will always be a constant. “I regret not inviting you to come home earlier! Is it too much to ask Mayari and Apolaki to let me spend more than a day with my ?child before they fall into another fight?” they suck in their cheeks in a feigned enough displeasure to draw a short chuckle from you. “It was a good day at least,” you offer in consolation. <<if $mapuloncanoe is true>>“Your father told me about your canoe ride together after lunch,” they smile at you indulgently. <</if>>“Duma’s visit was a pleasant surprise.” <<if $dromancepts gte 1>>You bite the inside of your cheek in an attempt to control your expression right in front of your mother. Your skin warms despite the cooler air of the evening as her words bring the young god to the forefront of your thoughts.<</if>><<if $helpduma is true and $dumapoints gte 2>> You respond with a nod; you had been looking forward to a chance to get to know him better. Unfortunately, your visit home isn’t the only thing that Mayari’s summons cut short this morning.<</if>> <<if $dumapoints gte 2>><<if $blue gt $purple and $blue gt $red>>“It’s reassuring to see how he looks out for you two,” you say kindly.<</if>><<if $purple gt $blue and $purple gt $red>>“Did you and Tatay adopt another child while I was gone?” you say with another fond chuckle.<</if>><<if $red gt $blue and $red gt $purple>> “I can see why you two like him so much,” you say with a touch of approval.<</if>><</if>><<if $dumapoints lte 1>>You’re not sure what to make of the terse god of mountains yet. Despite his close relationship with your parents you find him rather aloof and critical. You tell your mother so.<</if>> “He’s a good kid. A little…” Lakapati tilts her chin up at the sky, choosing her words carefully. “Intense at times, but I suppose the war changed a lot of things for everyone.” You gesture at the balangay steadily charting a course towards the brightest star in the sky around you. “Still is, apparently.” Your mother sighs a little at that, some of their tiredness showing in the way they release their shoulders. “The most difficult thing is that Apolaki and Mayari are both right—or both wrong depending on how you look at it I suppose,” they reflect. “It’s a lot harder to resolve and actually end conflict when both sides have a valid reason to keep fighting.” <<if $helpduma is false>>The ruling siblings might both have valid reasons to fight but that doesn’t mean that you enjoy being pulled into the whirlpool of the fallout. You suppose that not being able to avoid it was only a matter of time, though it doesn’t make you any more agreeable about it.<<else>>Conflict between humans is hardly ever straightforward—even more so for immortals whose scope and capabilities are far grander and heavier. You’re truly not sure who will end up “winning” and at what cost. And certainly the moon disappearing does not help calm the waters between the two.<</if>> [[Continue|2.6.11]]

<<set $lakapatiboat to false>>Transparent as they are, your parents have both been clear in their attempts to strengthen your bond. Despite their efforts it’s a challenge for you to meet them in the middle. It’s hard for you to not feel at least a little resentful towards them for keeping you sheltered during the war. Growing up, your family frequently traveled between earth and Kaluwalhatian to fulfill both of your parents’ shared and individual duties. You and your mother would chase each other, darting and dancing around the crops of those she favored as she left her blessings behind. You’d recently stepped into mature independence and started traveling on your own when the War erupted. You were just getting a taste of the discovery and freedom you were created to pursue when your parents decided that you as a family would sit out the fighting in Bulul. Your home became limiting instead of restorative as the war raged on. By the time it ended, your resentment had taken root. Without much fanfare, you announced to your parents that you would be resuming your travels, returning home only when you couldn’t avoid it. [[Continue|2.7]]

“I meant to tell you earlier,” Lakapati squeezes your hand before leaning back again. “Mayari’s message this morning—it specifically asked for you.” You can’t help but squint at that, curious and cautious all at once. “What did she say?” “That your attendance is crucial; though she didn’t elaborate as to why or how,” Lakapati recounts, meeting your eyes. “But it’s not hard to guess is it?” Your lips purse, intuition rising to attention. Mayari has never had reason to call on you before. Your interactions with her (and the rest of her siblings) have mostly been limited to ceremonial formalities. Now though, the goddess of the moon herself has lost something. <<if $proactive gt $reactive>>Your exhale is a determined huff.<<else>>You worry the inside of your cheek at that thought.<</if>> You close your eyes and focus your awareness in a search, not even really knowing what exactly you’re looking for. What does the moon feel like? You envision it: a gray circle spotted with deeper hues, like drops of water had long since evaporated on its surface, leaving evidence of its presence. The back of your mind is murky; your attempts feel like feeble light being swallowed by the ocean’s depths. The lack of clarity could be the consequence of a multitude of factors—perhaps the moon is just too great of an object for your capabilities. On the other hand, Mayari might not even necessarily consider it lost and so the technicality of your gifts is keeping you from accessing it. Regardless, you can’t ignore a direct summons from the goddess of the moon.<<if $helpduma is true and $mapuloncanoe is true>> Uncertain as the situation is, your sense of responsibility calls you to respond to Mayari.<</if>> Every deity has a duty—it seems that now you are on your way to fulfill yours. [[Continue|2.7]]

<><<if $mapuloncanoe is true and $lakapatiboat is true>><<set $LMscenes to true>><</if>><>The ocean still sparkles with morning light, as if greeting you, by the time you approach the craggy facade that marks Moroporo: the expanse of islands which Bathala and his children steward. Its shores are a stark yet pristine white line slicing between the choppy waters of the season and the lush, thick forests. Above and behind are steep cliff sides dusted green with strong, stubborn trees. The ruling family’s attendants stand ready on the shore, the waves lapping at their calves as they work together to dock the arriving boat. Like your parents, the House of Bathala accepts the most noteworthy and devoted of mortals into its domain after they pass on from earth. The ancestor spirits living on Moroporo tend to reflect the characteristics of Bathala’s children: wise; resourceful; brave; generous. If this were any other day they’d probably have better things to do than help your family unload from their travels, but ostensibly everyone’s routines have been disrupted today—even those favored by the House of Bathala. There are a few other boats on the beach, all uniform with blue sails flapping against their constraints and carvings inlaid with gold. All the House’s then; no other visitors. You had halfway expected the summons to extend to the whole pantheon, though it makes sense that Mayari chose the more cautious path. <<if $helpduma is true>>You wonder where Duma is. Did he try to find Apolaki on earth yesterday? Or did he head here to catch him home at night? <<if $LMpoints gte 4>>You meet your parents’ eye and they nod knowingly, as if thinking the same thing.<</if>><</if>> You step onto the warm sand, avoiding getting your feet wet with the help of one of the attendants. A couple of them help your family’s sailors with the pasalubong you brought along with you while another speaks with your mother. A few seconds later Lakapati approaches you and Mapulon. “Mayari will receive us in the front hall,” they relay. The three of you follow one of the ancestor spirits from the shore to the edge of the forest, where you spot a trail interrupting the dense trees. The spirits walk ahead of you to open the palm fronds that mark the entrance, bowing and gesturing for you to follow the path ahead. The jungle is so thick that sunlight turns green under the leaves. The air is hazy and rich with the sweet smell of flowers and fruit combined with the acidity of the earth. Eventually the tree line above you parts, as if bowing for the grandeur of the sky above. Ahead of you is a large clearing. In the middle is a grand, wooden building raised on carved and painted pillars. Cloudlike patterns extend up to the building itself, gold curves glinting. A thatched roof wraps around the first level like a rectangular skirt before swooping up into a pointed triangle around the second and third level’s facade. The House of Bathala. [[Continue|2.8]]

<><<set $moroporocodex to true>><>@@.heading3;⋗ Wayfinding updated: Moroporo ⋖@@ You and your parents wash your hands and feet before stepping into the front hall. Instead of just being one all-encompassing room, the House of Bathala is sectioned off for multiple purposes. For now you’ve only been let into the outermost room, though you know deeper inside and upstairs lies the family’s private rooms, a dining hall, and the grand hall, where you assume you will eventually be summoned. The front hall is well appointed with rugs and cushions artfully tucked into quiet corners of the room. Wide woven palm fronds rise and fall of their own volition to keep the air cool and flowing. Gold threads wind through each of the fans and their embroidered patterns flash in the spots of sunlight. The floors are made of slats of light wood inlaid with gold. Pillars upholding the roof are carved in intricate patterns: sigils that strengthen the foundation of the House and bolster its inherent protection of the land. There is already a tray with three clay cups and a jug set down by a pile of cushions. Your family takes that as an invitation to sit and partake, not saying much as you recognize the taste of coconut water. It’s refreshing after a day and a half spent breathing the salty air of the sea. You’re not sure how to interpret being made to wait in the hall. On one hand it could just be an example of the ruling family’s hospitality; on the other, it could be a strategic opportunity for Mayari to observe your family before she has to address you. If it were up to you… <ul class = "arrow"> <li>[[You would welcome everyone cordially and let their surroundings remind them of who is in charge.|2.9][$blue to $blue + 2]]</li> <li>[[You would lull your guests into a false sense of security. Catching them off guard would be amusing.|2.9][$purple to $purple + 2]]</li> <li>[[You would not bother with pleasantries at all in this circumstance, hospitality be damned.|2.9][$red to $red + 2]]</li></ul>

Regardless of her methods, it would be foolish to assume that Mayari is without suspicion. The goddess’ wisdom as well as her sharp ability to deduce her surroundings (including who are truly allied with her and who are not) kept the conflict between her and Apolaki even—despite her younger brother’s overwhelming force. There were many that underestimated Mayari and wrongly predicted the War of the Divine would have a clear and quick winner simply because of Apolaki’s forceful military strength. Now, it’s widely known that between the two rulers whatever one has, the other lacks. As much as Mayari and Apolaki have the tendency to be at odds, they have the potential to complement each other. Though clearly that’s much easier said than done. The clinking of gold interrupts the misleading calm in the front hall. Your eyes follow the sound and bow almost immediately once you spot a head of deep blue hair. “Welcome to the House of Bathala.” A voice, rich and full, bids your family to rise. A goddess stands in the center of the archway leading deeper into the House, her presence outshining the torches around her. On her forehead is a golden headpiece of a crescent moon. Beads curve around the crown of her head, setting off sparkling light as she turns to regard you all with an inviting smile. Those gathered seem to lighten just by virtue of being close to her. Tala, goddess of the stars. “Thank you all for arriving on such short notice,” her hands move gracefully as she speaks, golden bangles sounding like small bells against each other. Despite the circumstances she still possesses an energetic levity. “I hope your journey was smooth.” “It was faster than expected,” your father answers. “The waters were rather calm for the season.” “Good to hear,” Tala smiles with satisfaction. “It would’ve been rude to ask you to come with haste and then not provide said haste, wouldn’t it?” “We appreciate you seeing to our safe travels, goddess,” your mother supplies genuinely. You can tell she’s already less tense than she was on the balangay. “Are we expecting anyone else?” Her lips curl indulgently. “My job is simply to navigate. I’ll let my sister handle the questions. Follow me.” [[Continue|2.10]]

<><<set $mettala to true>><<set $talacodex to true>><>@@.heading3;⋗ Deities and spirits updated: Tala ⋖@@ Tala leads you past the ornate archway and into the grand hall. The ceiling opens up, rising high with the absence of windows and letting the sky in. In the middle of the room is a grand sundial made of gold. it’s comprised of two main parts: an upright outline of a circle, leaning slightly back, and a long point at the center. Opals in the shape of sun rays serve as a stand supporting the lower half of the circle. The upper half of the circle is a crescent moon made of glossy, polished jade. A shooting star of pearls pierces the center, casting the shadow that tells you it’s early morning. Mayari is already there, standing on a raised platform at the far end of the room. Like Tala her presence is large. There is a still serenity that surrounds her, as crisp as the long curtain of her jet black hair. She wears an eyepatch over her right eye, made of dark leather and embroidered with gold thread. It could almost pass as simply an accessory if not for the fact that everyone knows the reason why she wears it. Tala takes her place at her sister’s side, standing a few steps behind Mayari. The goddess of the moon regards your family with a cool smile, like a dagger wrapped in silk. Her silver eye—the same color as the rest of her family—scans over the three of you in careful examination. Whatever she’s looking for she doesn’t find and she exhales almost imperceptibly; in relief or frustration she doesn’t reveal enough to tell. “Keepers of Bulul,” she uses the ruling family’s address towards your parents. A status earned as opposed to just the familiarity of their names. “And the ?deity of lost things. I’m pleased to see you all look well.” “And you as well, goddess,” Mapulon answers. “We were… concerned to say the least when we received your summons this morning.” Mayari’s smile hardens before smoothing over again “Yes, well. I appreciate you thinking of me considering the gravity of what you learned.” She takes a breath and exhales it quietly, meeting you each in the eye. “I’ve summoned your family and your family alone because right now it’s hard to discern who I can trust.” It’s evident her summons was more about process of elimination rather than full confidence. “You managed to stay neutral in the war; I suppose now we shall see where your loyalty will lie.” “Do you suspect your brother?” your mother asks. “I suspect everyone.” Mayari’s response is swift and sharp, silver eye glinting with restrained emotion. <<if $blue gt $purple and $blue gt $red>>You can’t even imagine how she must feel right now. The balance over which she warred with her brother has become that much harder to maintain.<</if>><<if $purple gt $blue and $purple gt $red>>There’s a witty response on the tip of your tongue but you bite down and hold it back. Even you can tell that this is not the time nor the place.<</if>><<if $red gt $blue and $red gt $purple>>There’s a part of you that has to respect her composure; there are a select few that would have the presence of mind to strategize in her position.<</if>> “But I need your help. Particularly yours, $name. I can’t turn the heavens over just to find the moon. I must stay here.” <<if $lakapatiboat is true>>“Goddess,” you start, regret making your throat tight. “I tried to locate the moon on the way here. I couldn’t find it.” “I see. Will you try again?” Mayari looks at you encouragingly, gesturing towards her sister. Tala steps forward with a an unrolled blank scroll. You examine it, finding nothing notable. This must be why Mayari asked for your attendance specifically. “My dear sister has a suspicion. Since you’ve already come all this way, surely you can entertain us?” Mayari asks. You nod and she guides your hands so they rest on the backs of Tala’s. You’re surprised to feel a slight shake in them. Instinctively you squeeze her hands and you hear Tala take an emboldening breath. “$name, help me find what I have lost. Tala, show me the way so it can be found.” You swallow down your apprehension and close your eyes when Mayari says your name. Perhaps it’s because you’re standing within Moroporo, the center of Kaluwalhatian where Bathala’s influence concentrates, but this time your awareness is sharper. Broader. In your own mind you’ve flown up and above even the mountains and cliffsides protecting Moroporo. The island shrinks into a vague shape of grays and greens as instinct tugs your attention east. You rove your eyes in that direction but it’s a slow process, your vision feeling like torchlight in the pitch dark, only able to banish darkness when you point directly at it.<<else>>Mayari looks at you expectantly, silver eyes seeming to flay you open and rummage through your consciousness. You swallow with discomfort under her scrutiny. Your throat feels parched despite the coconut water you had just minutes ago. The goddess of the moon raises an eyebrow and you can almost tangibly feel the weight of her influence and power as one of the rulers of Kaluwalhatian. Mayari gestures toward her sister and Tala steps forward with a an unrolled blank scroll. “My dear sister has a suspicion. Since you’ve already come all this way, surely you can entertain us?” Mayari asks. Before you can respond, she guides your hands so they rest on the backs of Tala’s. You’re surprised to feel a slight shake in them. “$name, help me find what I have lost. Tala, show me the way so it can be found.” You don’t really have a choice to do anything but nod and take a breath, closing your eyes as you spread your awareness past you. Perhaps it’s because you’re standing within Moroporo, the center of Kaluwalhatian where Bathala’s influence concentrates, but your awareness is sharper than usual. Broader. The magnification of your gift rushes through you and you think you might be able to find some of your own personal quests like this. Before you can tap into them, Moroporo shrinks into a vague shape of grays and greens as your instinct leads you east instead. You rove your eyes in that direction but it’s a slow process, your vision feeling like torchlight in the pitch dark, only able to banish darkness when you point directly at it.<</if>> You frown when your instinct leads you to a nondescript spot over the ocean. There are only small islands close by, though those don’t feel like they bear any significance in your search. You cast your awareness out once again but you’re met with <<if $lakapatiboat is true>>the same frustrating murkiness from before<<else>>an impenetrable murkiness<</if>>. You sigh before opening your eyes, mouth fixed in <<if $lakapatiboat is true>>an apology<<else>> a frown<</if>> when you look down and realize that the scroll in your and Tala’s still joined hands has bloomed into a map. “It worked,” Tala breathes out, voice sounding like a mixture of surprise and relief. The map looks like a moving painting, its scope mirroring what you saw in your mind’s eye earlier. Moroporo is in the lower left corner and to the east is a golden starburst, flaring amongst the blue of the ocean. You meet Tala’s eyes, even more incredulous than her. She’s still glowing from the exertion of using her gift. Her hair ripples behind her, the sheen of it seeming to illuminate the air around you. This close you can discern the small jewels she’s applied to the corners of her eyes as well as her freckles, concentrated on her nose and scattering a bit onto her cheeks. It’s an endearing feature on someone you’ve always considered a figure of authority in Kaluwalhatian, evidence of how much the sun loves her. She smiles at you in satisfaction and a little bit of awe. You… <ul class = "arrow"> <li>[[…can’t help but think that Tala is even more beautiful when she shines like this.|2.11][$tromancepts to $tromancepts + 1]]</li> <li>[[…smile back and squeeze her hands again, energized by her enthusiasm.|2.11][$tfriendpts to $tfriendpts + 1]]</li> <li>[[…are too distracted by the map to reciprocate.|2.11]]</li></ul>

<><<set $metmayari to true>><<set $mayaricodex to true>><<set $talapoints to $tromancepts + $tfriendpts>><>@@.heading3;⋗ Deities and spirits updated: Mayari ⋖@@ “Marvelous,” Mayari whispers as she looks down at the map herself. “You were right, Tala.” Mayari smiles proudly at her younger sister, the first expression you’ve seen from her today that doesn’t feel layered in something unspoken. Tala clasps one of Mayari’s hands in hers. The gesture is affectionate and empowering at the same time. You’d always known that the ruling family was just that—a family—but to witness their sisterhood up close is a different level of knowledge entirely. Despite Tala’s levity, you have a feeling that she’s actually rather devoted to this mission. Especially since it seems it was her ingenuity that brought you here in the first place. “Does that location mean anything to you?” Your father asks <<if $height is "petite" or "short">>over your shoulder<<else>>beside you<</if>>. Mayari and Tala share a quick, knowing glance. “Yes,” Mayari answers after a beat. The air hangs between you as she refrains from elaborating. “What happened there?” Mapulon presses. Mayari trains her eyes on the map, expression settling back into something cool and unreadable. Tala bites the inside of her cheek before nudging her sister with her elbow. “I think they should know.” Mayari looks up again and meets Mapulon’s questioning stare. She sighs deeply before speaking, “Two nights ago, I was attacked.” Your mother gasps while your father’s frown deepens. You all know what that could mean. “By Apolaki?” Lakapati asks, identifying your family’s worries. “Is that why he’s not here?” “I don’t know. I have hardly had time to sit down with my thoughts and rule out possible threats,” Mayari admits bitterly. “Once I escaped the ambush I realized how dark the night had become because the moon was no longer in the sky.” Mayari closes her eyes, hands squeezing into fists as she takes a deep breath and expels it. “At first I thought that perhaps it was an eclipse—when Apolaki and I are at odds sometimes it escalates into a repression of the other’s light. But an eclipse has never lasted this long and the circumstances are too coincidental. Someone distracted me so they could steal my moon.” Cold fury wraps around Mayari. “I really don’t want to believe that my brother would attack me with no provocation.” “Which is why $name and I will figure out who’s actually behind this,” Tala adds, looking at you. “Won’t we?”<<if $talapoints gte 1>> She smiles at you charmingly, like she’s asking you to walk with her to the beach to get some coconuts and not to set off on a hunt for a mysterious malignant force. Tala is unexpectedly compelling—someone you can trust and follow.<</if>> <ul class = "arrow"> <li><<if $proactive gt $reactive>><<link [[“I’ll do all I can, goddess,” you say to Mayari with conviction.|2.12.1]]>><<set $mayaripoints to $mayaripoints + 1>><<set $mortalpoints to $mortalpoints + 1>><</link>><<else>><<link [[“I am at your disposal, goddess,” you bow your head towards Mayari.|2.12.1]]>><<set $mayaripoints to $mayaripoints + 1>><<set $mortalpoints to $mortalpoints + 1>><</link>><</if>></li> <li><<link [[“It sounds like I must,” you acquiesce, though you’re attuned enough to your own intuition to feel its uncertainty.|2.12.1]]>><<set $mayaripoints to $mayaripoints - 1>><</link>></li> <<if $LMscenes is false and $helpduma is false>><li><<link [[“You’re asking for an impossible task,” you protest. Even the mortals give you more direction than this.|2.12.2]]>><<set $mayaripoints to $mayaripoints - 2>><<set $mortalpoints to $mortalpoints - 1>><</link>></li><</if>></ul>

<<set $questaccepted to true>><<if $mayaripoints gte 1>>Mayari nods at your ready response. She seems pleased, if the slight upturn of her lips is anything to go by.<<else>>“Unfortunately we all must in the face of our responsibilities,” she smiles coolly at you and despite the sticky, heavy air of the season you feel a slight chill.<</if>> <<if $talapoints gte 1>>Tala’s eyes sparkle as she regards you, the veil of stars in her deep blue hair shining bright. <</if>>“I promise not to get you into trouble. Not any more than you’re signing up for at least.” Tala’s bright, easygoing demeanor in contrast with Mayari’s cold focus is almost jarring, though you can sense the intimate trust between the two goddesses. Mayari would not give Tala this task unless she knew her sister would take it seriously. <<if $blue gt $purple and $blue gt $red>>“And how much trouble is that, exactly?” <<if $mayaripoints gte 1 and $talapoints gte 1>>you offer an amused smile, your sense of adventure already stepping to the forefront<<else>>you can’t help the uneasiness that trickles out of your words<</if>> as the reality of Mayari’s request settles around you. “We’ll find out together soon enough,” Tala answers breezily, though you don’t miss the weight of significance in the look she shares with Mayari.<</if>><<if $purple gt $blue and $purple gt $red>>“It sounds like I might be the one getting you into trouble, actually,” <<if $mayaripoints gte 1>>you say with a slight smirk, your sense of adventure already stepping to the forefront<<else>> you say with slight apprehension<</if>> as the reality of Mayari’s request settles around you. “I can handle it,” Tala answers breezily, though you don’t miss the weight of significance in the look she shares with Mayari.<</if>><<if $red gt $blue and $red gt $purple>>“It’s less about you getting me into trouble and more about trouble finding us,” you say matter-of-factly, <<if $mayaripoints gte 1>>though you can already feel the telltale rush of your pulse as your sense of adventure awakens.<<else>>feeling dreadfully ill-prepared—not that there’s anything you can do about it now.<</if>><</if>> [[Continue|2.13]]

<<set $srpoints to $srpoints + 1>>“And are all deities not created through and for impossible tasks?” Mayari challenges you, the air growing still around her as she pins you with an imperious stare and an arched brow. “When my father asked your parents to feed all of the heavens, they followed his guidance to build Bulul,” she tilts her chin towards Lakapati and Mapulon. “Pray tell Keepers—back then were you graced with even a map?” You know they weren’t even without your father shaking his head in response, the story of how they came to inherit their home ingrained into your memory from childhood. “And now I’m offering not just a map but my own sister: the best navigator in all of Kaluwalhatian. You are not the only one taking monumental risks, ?deity of lost things,” she says your title with narrowed eyes and cold pragmatism. You grit your teeth, gaze dropping to the floor as heat creeps up your neck and ears. Lakapati squeezes your upper arm—in support or in admonition; either way you’re too indignant to discern the difference. “Yes goddess,” you grind out, not knowing what else to say. “You are to leave with Tala. Today.” Her firm tone brooks no further protests. You nod in wordless, reluctant resignation. You’re tense with frustration and shame, unsure of what to do with yourself. You’re outnumbered here; Mayari is right in pointing out that your parents would accept the task. Her words are sharp and concise while in disagreement, leaving no room for anything other than acquiescence or outright disloyalty. You eye the map now rolled up and stored in a hollow bamboo case hanging off of Tala’s waist as the sisters discuss preparations for travel. If you absolutely must go on this wild chase, then perhaps you can at least still make it worth your while. [[Continue|2.13]]

“Keepers of Bulul,” Mayari addresses your parents once again. “Would you join me in the gardens after you say your goodbyes? We have much more to discuss.”<<if $mayaripoints gte 1>> Her expression softens into genuine warmth for a beat. “Perhaps you can tell me why my orchids are being so stubborn.”<</if>> “Of course, goddess,” Lakapati responds. Mayari turns to you, silver eyes hardened with resolve and a quiet anger. “You have my full support in your journey, ?deity of lost things. I hope to hear news we can work with soon.” “$name, find me by the river dock when you’re ready to go,” Tala directs at you before she and Mayari bow. Your family returns the gesture and watch as they both disappear behind the thrones. <<if $questaccepted is true>>Once they leave the room Lakapati grasps your hands, one in each of hers, and lets her concern for you break through her previously deferential demeanor. “Oh, $name,” she sighs, shoulders dropping. “What have we gotten into now?” Mapulon wraps an arm around each of you and you let yourself be comforted by your parents, uncertainty roiling in your gut despite the fact that you agreed to Mayari’s request. Can you really accomplish something that even the goddess of the moon herself cannot? “You can do it, anak,” your father offers supportively, hand squeezing your shoulder. “You’re not alone. Remember that your gifts grow stronger with prayer.” “You have us. And Tala now,” Lakapati adds. “I feel like I’m approaching the edge of a cliff with a blindfold,” you admit, the reality of your emotions intensifying as you verbalize them. <<if $blue gt $purple and $blue gt $red>>You feel both proud and apprehensive, with one feeling rising to meet the other.<</if>><<if $purple gt $blue and $purple gt $red>>It’s a good thing your companion can fly, you suppose.<</if>><<if $red gt $blue and $red gt $purple>>There was no way to prepare for this. You just hope you’re ready.<</if>><</if>><<if $questaccepted is false>>Once they leave the room Lakapati wrings her hands and lets her concern for you break through her previously deferential demeanor. “Oh, $name,” she sighs, shoulders dropping. “What has found us now?” Mapulon wraps an arm around your mother, comforting her as he examines you. Your whole being still stings from shame, the feeling as visceral as if Mayari had actually slapped you. You just had to stand there and swallow her command, powerless to object. <<if $blue gt $purple and $blue gt $red>>Though you know this isn’t just some petty favor, you can’t help but feel strong-armed into something you weren’t able to consider beforehand.<</if>><<if $purple gt $blue and $purple gt $red>>Your easygoing demeanor often misleads others into not taking you seriously. You’re not a child to be scolded about responsibility anymore.<</if>><<if $red gt $blue and $red gt $purple>>Precisely because this isn’t just some petty favor, you can’t help but feel that you were due more respect than Mayari deemed you deserved.<</if>><</if>> “Mayari must know more than she’s revealing,” Mapulon clicks his tongue in discontent. “She clearly does not even know who her true enemy is,” Lakapati adds. “Which of them can actually manage to steal the moon?” you question. You’re all silent for a grim beat, the answer out of your grasp. [[Continue|2.14]]

You bid your parents goodbye <<if $LMpoints gte 3>>with one last embrace<<else>>with a short wave<</if>> before asking an attendant the way to the river dock. Normally you would just wander around, indulging in your own curiosities, but despite Tala’s sparklingly light demeanor you have a feeling that she won’t entertain your lack of urgency. You find your way to the back of the House. Paths of smooth, rounded stones split like roots as you step down from the raised platform serving as the House’s foundation. You follow the sound of the river winding through the scattered puzzle pieces of Moroporo’s islands along the tree line. Despite being just a day and a half’s travel away, Moroporo feels like a different world. Amongst the branches you spot its famous two-headed bird, the talusi. It’s always larger than you remember whenever you come across one in person. You think that if you stood next to it, it would <<if $height is "petite" or $height is "short">>be just as tall as you<<else>>reach to about your shoulder.<</if>> Its coat is black aside from its white tail. Its two heads are stacked one on top of the other, bills stretching open from two different joints. Four eyes, two stacked on each side, are pitch black buttons deep with the long memory of one of Bathala’s first creations. The talusi tilts its head slightly when it meets your curious gaze, as if raising an eyebrow at you. You feel the weight of its observation and find yourself <<if $blue gt $purple and $blue gt $red>>smiling back<</if>><<if $purple gt $blue and $purple gt $red>>mimicking its head tilt<</if>><<if $red gt $blue and $red gt $purple>>narrowing your eyes as you stare back<</if>>, feeling as if the bird can somehow see through you. It squawks at you in response, heads tilting back as both its beaks open. The sound it makes is loud, amplified by two sources, sounding like bamboo cracking open. It flies off before you can react, rustling the leaves of the tree it was previously on. You watch as strong wings carry its large body out of sight before resuming your path towards the river dock. When the trees part for the riverbank, you turn towards the dock to find Tala preparing the sails on her boat. It’s a larger and longer balangay, with two sails instead of just the one on your parents’. Half a dozen oars protrude from each side like a bird’s wings at rest. You watch as Tala prepares the balangay for travel—a job that would normally require at least a few more sets of hands—with a practiced rhythm. As you approach you realize she’s humming to herself, a percussive tune that reminds you of sailing towards the horizon. <ul class = "arrow"> <li>[[“Need any help?”|2.15.1][$tfriendpts to $tfriendpts + 1]]</li> <li>[[“Can you manage that?”|2.15.2][$tfriendpts to $tfriendpts - 1]]</li></ul>

<<set $helptala to true>>You witness a smile brightening her face at the offer, though her focus remains on hoisting the sail. She finishes the task before looking up and beckoning for you to board the balangay. “$name,” she holds out a hand to help you up. You can see the tattooed rings on each of her fingers and where the ink on her arm ends. A pink scar slices through the inside of her left forearm, interrupting the detailed patterns of her tattoos. You take her hand before your observation can be interpreted as rude and she hauls you up with an unexpected strength. “Welcome aboard the Sibat,” she spreads her arms and gestures to the balangay around you with a proud tilt of her chin. The Sibat is a grand vessel, clearly built by the best shipbuilders with the best materials. The sails are the House of Bathala’s customary shade of blue, with the borders embellished by some of the same patterns you recognize on Tala’s skin. The center of the sail looks like the night sky, complete with shifting constellations, mimicking the movement of the stars as one travels. There’s a thatched roof at the back—presumably where the boat’s living quarters are. It’s starting to hit you that you’ll be living on a balangay for the foreseeable future. Though you’re used to traveling by sea, you typically rest your head somewhere on land. Excitement and anxiety roll into one in your gut. “I hear you’re quite the adventurer,” Tala moves to hoist the other sail and this time you join her. You’re able to recognize the knots she uses because she’s the one that taught everyone how. <<if $blue gt $purple and $blue gt $red>>“I wouldn’t want someone’s location to be a reason why I can’t help them,” you elaborate. “As exemplified by you arriving to Moroporo so quickly,” Tala smiles kindly.<</if>><<if $purple gt $blue and $purple gt $red>>“Compared to you I only dabble,” your tone is light. “Pay attention and you might learn how to do it right, then,” Tala smiles with amusement and mischief.<</if>><<if $red gt $blue and $red gt $purple>>“Much easier to find things if I’m physically closer to them,” you explain. “I’m hoping to see that for myself,” Tala’s answer is a playful challenge, though you can feel the gravity of the situation all the same.<</if>> [[Continue|2.15.11]]

Tala rolls her eyes at that, lips pursing with dismissal as she continues with her task. Only when she’s done does she actually regard you. “I’m going to assume that’s sarcasm or otherwise a misled compliment for your sake,” she says with a cutting smile as she gestures for you to board the balangay with an exaggerated wave of her hand. It brings your attention to the tattooed rings on each of her fingers and where the ink on her arm ends. A pink scar slices through the inside of her forearm, interrupting the detailed patterns of her tattoos. “This is the Sibat.” Your mouth presses into a flat line, feeling off-balance from Tala’s bristling energy. You’re not sure how to respond so you cast your eyes around the balangay instead. Sibat is a grand vessel, clearly built by the best shipbuilders with the best materials. The sails are the House of Bathala’s customary shade of blue, with the borders embellished by some of the same patterns you recognize on Tala’s skin. The center of the sail looks like the night sky, complete with shifting constellations, mimicking the movement of the stars as one travels. There’s a thatched roof at the back—presumably where the boat’s living quarters are. It’s starting to hit you that you’ll be living on a balangay for the foreseeable future. Though you’re used to traveling by sea, you typically rest your head somewhere on land. Excitement and anxiety roll into one in your gut. “I hear you’re accustomed to traveling,” Tala says. <<if $blue gt $purple and $blue gt $red>>“I wouldn’t want someone’s location to be a reason why I can’t help them,” you elaborate carefully, eyeing Tala. “That explains how you were able to arrive here so quickly,” Tala reasons.<</if>><<if $purple gt $blue and $purple gt $red>>“Compared to you I only dabble,” you quip carefully, eyeing Tala. “Pay attention and you might learn how to do it right, then,” Tala smirks, the edges of her expression sharp.<</if>><<if $red gt $blue and $red gt $purple>>“Much easier to find things if I’m physically closer to them,” you explain, eyeing Tala. “I’m hoping to see that for myself,” Tala’s answer is a sharp challenge and you both sit in the gravity of the situation.<</if>> [[Continue|2.15.21]]

Tala accepts your help and directs you to check your provisions: drinking water, rice, bread, yams, salted fish, some green produce, and fruits. Some of the pasalubong your family brought to Moroporo is on the balangay as well, namely the already cooked meals. You won’t have to worry about them spoiling, unlike the mortal seafarers who subsist on dried fish and whatever else they could make last on a boat. Regardless it would be easy enough to fish off of the boat or stop and restock on land—no one would deny the goddess of the stars food and supplies if she asked, after all—but the balangay has enough on hand to feed the two of you for at least two weeks. You emerge from the thatched roof covering the back of the sailboat and find Tala observing the skies by the bow. The dry season ended a few weeks ago, making way for temperamental seas and volatile winds. You had returned to Bulul in anticipation of the wet season and certainly wouldn’t be able to navigate Mayari’s map without Tala. Tala turns around as you approach. Her head tilts and her brow furrows slightly when she sees your frown. “Is something the matter?” You sit on a bench built into the boat. “I suppose I’m just realizing how serious this is.” She lets out a couple of short chuckles. They would sound callous if they weren’t curbed by sympathy. “I went through the same process, just a day or so earlier.” <ul class = "arrow"> <li>[[“I could use any guidance you can spare me,” you say, trying not to grimace.|2.15.12.a]]</li> <li><<if $proactive gt $reactive>>[[“You wear grave circumstances well,” you compliment, her chuckles lifting your smile.|2.15.12.b][$tromancepts to $tromancepts + 1]]<<else>>[[You don’t have a ready response, charmed by the dimples her chuckles brought out.|2.15.12.b][$tromancepts to $tromancepts + 1]]<</if>></li> <li><<if $blue gt $purple and $blue gt $red>>[[“You’re a dependable sister,” you smile warmly at Tala.|2.15.12.c][$tfriendpts to $tfriendpts + 1]]<</if>><<if $purple gt $blue and $purple gt $red>>[[“There’s a joke about being on the same boat somewhere in there,” you smile despite the situation.|2.15.12.c][$tfriendpts to $tfriendpts + 1]]<</if>><<if $red gt $blue and $red gt $purple>>[[“Thanks for the extra day off,” you say drily, a corner of your mouth lifting a bit.|2.15.12.c][$tfriendpts to $tfriendpts + 1]]<</if>></li></ul>

<<set $talapoints to $tromancepts + $tfriendpts>>After another look at the map, Tala is ready to leave the dock. She resumes her spot at the bow, feet planted and firm on the wood. She uses a long pole to push off and you hear the oars splashing in the water of their own volition as the balangay catches the flow of the water. Jagged gray rocks tower over you as Tala weaves the boat through the watery veins of Moroporo and towards the open sea. Under you the water is clear and you can see the plants along the shore before it deepens into white sand and coral. A talusi flies over you when the water widens. Its squawk echoes off of the cliffsides and Tala waves at it before it turns and disappears behind one of the last rocks marking Moroporo. No longer covered, the sails catch the strong winds of the season. Tala sings to herself as she guides the boat effortlessly, swaying along with the rhythm of the oars. Even her long braid seems to dance a little as her tempo picks up with the speed of the sailboat. <<if $talapoints gte 2 and $helptala is true>>You hum along and Tala looks over her shoulder to grin at you. “Wanna see how fast we can go?” Her attitude is infectious and you nod as your sense of adventure suffuses you. She beckons you to join her by the bow, reasoning that it’s most fun from where she’s standing. “Get ready,” is her only warning before the balangay zips forward at her behest, sails rippling in the wind. You lose your balance almost immediately and Tala grabs your forearm to keep you upright. “I told you to get ready!” she says with a teasing scold, raising her voice over the wind whipping you forward. “This is still a crawl compared to how I typically sail!” “What?” you ask incredulously. “Oh $name,” Tala smirks indulgently. “Watch.”<<else>> “Get ready,” is her only warning before the balangay zips forward at her behest, sails rippling in the wind. It’s a good thing you’re still sitting, because otherwise you would’ve lost your balance immediately. “I told you to get ready!” she says over her shoulder with amusement, not sounding apologetic at all. “This is still a crawl compared to how I typically sail!” “What?” you ask incredulously.<</if>> Tala reveals a waist high drum in the center of the bow with a flourish of the heavy, treated leather previously covering it. It’s twice as wide as her, dark wooden body embellished with carvings of the curving, swirling patterns you’re starting to recognize as uniquely Tala’s. At the center of the drum is a glowing stone the size of a large marble, pulsing with the deep blue of the night sky. Tala takes a drumstick made of wood and stone in each hand. Her hips sway for a few quick counts before she plants her feet in a wide stance. She lifts a hand straight above her head, then drops the drumstick onto the head with a decisive strike. It makes a full, round sound that reverberates all around you. The balangay seems to hum in response and your hair raises a little at the latent power awakening within the wood itself. Tala strikes the drum again, this time kicking off into an energetic rhythm. She throws her whole body into it, arms moving gracefully as her hips swing and her head bobs. The oars keep time with her and the balangay speeds even faster. Even you find yourself moving to the beat she establishes, chin bouncing. The vibration of the drumbeat soaks into you, calling your blood to the surface of your skin and sparking a rush. Your chest swells and your breath catches, though with Tala’s gift and strength swirling around you it’s almost as if you don’t need it. The balangay slices through the ocean. Sprays of saltwater crest around the sides of the boat as the skies above part for the goddess of the stars. You’ve no measure of how quickly you’re moving, just that you’ve never gone this fast before. After some time Tala slows down, eventually finishing the song and tucking away the drumsticks. Her skin glistens with sweat and her breathing is heavy. <<if $talapoints gte 2 and $helptala is true>>She pushes a lock of hair from out of her eyes before looking toward you and grinning, her exertion fueling her delight. “How’s that for a joyride?”<<else>>She pushes a lock of hair from out of her eyes before looking over her shoulder at you, chin tilted up. “You hanging on back there?”<</if>> <ul class = "arrow"> <<if $talapoints gte 2 and $helptala is true>><li>[[“That was brilliant!” You can’t help the laughter that escapes you, the release of both your anxiety and excitement.|2.17.11][$blue to $blue + 2]]</li> <li>[[“I could’ve used more fanfare. Some dolphins dancing maybe?” you say with a mock thoughtful look, though you can’t contain your exhilarated grin either.|2.17.12][$purple to $purple + 2]]</li> <li>[[“Impressive,” you allow the genuine compliment as the rush of adrenaline loosens your impassivity and the corners of your mouth quirk up. |2.17.13][$red to $red + 2]]</li><<else>><li>[[“I’m managing myself,” you answer as you unwrap your fingers’ grip around the bench.|2.17.21][$blue to $blue + 2]]</li> <li>[[“Are we even still in Kaluwalhatian?” you quip as you set your clothing right again.|2.17.22][$purple to $purple + 2]]</li> <li>[[“I’ve weathered worse,” you respond flatly.|2.17.23][$red to $red + 2]]</li><</if>></ul>

Tala directs you to make yourself useful and check your provisions: drinking water, rice, bread, yams, salted fish, some green produce, and fruits. Some of the pasalubong your family brought to Moroporo is on the balangay as well, namely the already cooked meals. You won’t have to worry about them spoiling, unlike the mortal seafarers who subsist on dried fish and whatever else they could make last on a boat. Regardless it would be easy enough to fish off of the boat or stop and restock on land—no one would deny the goddess of the stars food and supplies if she asked, after all—but the balangay has enough on hand to feed the two of you for at least two weeks. You emerge from the thatched roof covering the back of the sailboat and find Tala observing the skies by the bow. The dry season ended a few weeks ago, making way for temperamental seas and volatile winds. You had returned to Bulul in anticipation of the wet season and certainly wouldn’t be able to chart a path towards your destination without Tala. [[Continue|2.16]]

When the sun makes room for the stars in the sky, Tala busies herself with confirming that you’re still on the right path. She asks you to prepare dinner, silver eyes rounded in a way that you know must work most of the time as she points out that surely the ?child of Bulul knows how to put together a delicious meal, even at sea. You do, <<if $srpoints gte 1>>though you rummage through the provisions primarily to feed yourself.<<else>>and you looked forward to proving Tala right.<</if>> Torches stationed like rowers around the balangay help you see; the night is eerily dark without the moon, as if the sky itself is mourning its absence. It’s a good thing you took note of where everything is stocked earlier, making your search much easier. You hadn’t realized how hungry you’d gotten until Tala mentioned food. Amidst the day’s events, you’d skipped your usual afternoon snack. You look for… <ul class = "arrow"> <li>[[…paksiw na isda, milkfish cooked in a tangy vinegar and garlic broth.|2.19]]</li> <li>[[…ginataang manok, a spicy sweet chicken dish stewed in coconut milk.|2.19]]</li> <li>[[…pansit, a comforting stir fried noodle dish with vegetables.|2.19]]</li></ul>

Dinner chosen, you set down some banana leaves on a table under the thatched roof of the living quarters. You set the table with a large bowl filled with the meal of your choice along with another bowl of rice. You also place two empty, smaller bowls on each side of the table to denote yours and Tala’s seats. “Kain na!” You call out to Tala to eat after putting two cups of water down. <<if $talapoints gte 2>>You wait for her to join you before sitting, though she bounds to the table soon enough, just as hungry as you. She tucks in with a smile and a thank you.<<else>>You take a seat without waiting for her, serving yourself from the bigger bowls immediately. She arrives a few beats later and helps herself upon seeing you already eating.<</if>> Neither of you say anything for a few minutes, a sign of how delicious the food is. Tala is unabashed in her enjoyment, body swaying in her seat happily while her braid dances in the air behind her. “How it still warm?” she asks you. You tilt you chin over your shoulder towards where your provisions are kept. “My father crafts special jars that can keep food hot or cold, depending on what it needs to keep.” Tala’s eyes widen a little and she takes another bite, savoring the perfect temperature of your dinner. “Amazing. I’m going to have to get more of them. Tired of eating lukewarm sinigang.” You nod, not really able to relate though you can understand the sentiment. Broth really is best hot. “I’ll trade you for a faster balangay.” <<if $talapoints gte 2>>Her smile grows at your shrewdness. You both know Mapulon would make them for her—she only needs to ask. “Maybe if you actually end up being able to find the moon I’ll build you one.”<<else>>She huffs an amused breath at your opportunism. You both know Mapulon would make them for her—she only needs to ask. “I can manage blessing your boat if you can actually get me more of these jars. And some langsat from Bulul.”<</if>> You reach a hand out across the table and she meets you halfway, both of you grasping each other’s forearms to seal your agreement. [[Continue|2.20]]

After dinner Tala shows you where the sleeping mats are kept on her boat. You both decide to sleep in shifts and Tala takes the first one with an easy smile. You suspect that she’s more than fine with having some time to herself while you get some rest. You understand—you’re used to traveling by yourself too. You flatten one of the mats under the thatched roof of the balangay. It’s deceptively soft once you settle in, masking the hard, unforgiving wood under your back. Drowsiness wraps around you and you wonder if it’s another effect of the sleeping mat or just a consequence of the day’s tiring events. It’s hard to wrap your mind around the task you accepted. Even now you can still almost pretend that this is just any other trip, that you happened to run into Tala on your travels and decided to join forces since you have the same destination anyway. <<if $srpoints eq 0>> Despite your fear and uncertainty though, you know you can’t simply pretend. You don’t have to reach far into your awareness to hear the litany of prayers directed at you, starting as a faint suggestion a few days ago but has now grown into a constant beat pushing you forward. Your tigmamanukan have been too busy to find you because they’re spread thin across earth. You couldn’t ignore this even if you wanted to. The sea breeze carries stray notes of Tala’s humming over to you. The tune is comforting in its familiarity and your mind fills in the blanks. You force yourself to focus on it, eager to trade your uneasiness for temporary respite. Along with the steady rhythm of the ocean’s waves, soon it sends you under the depths of sleep.<<else>>You let yourself reimagine your situation for a few moments. Tala doesn’t even have to be involved in this. The boat could be yours alone, automatically guided by your intent as you roam Kaluwalhatian for lost treasures. It would be the ideal situation, you think. Along with the steady rhythm of the ocean’s waves, you let the thought send you under the depths of sleep.<</if>> [[Continue|2.21]]

“$name.” A sharp whisper and a hand on your shoulder jar you awake. Your eyes snap open and your awareness catches up a beat later. Tala hovers over you, brows furrowed and lips pulled down in an uncharacteristically cautious look. “What’s going on? Did we make it?” You sit up, looking towards the sky to find the sun just starting to sparkle off of the horizon. “Someone’s beaten us here.” She answers instead and you realize she’s slung her bow across her back. “Huh?” You blink the last dredges of sleep away before rising to stand, moved mostly by Tala’s urgency. She tilts her chin past the balangay and you notice a small sailboat bobbing in the sea close by. There’s nothing identifying on its sail, no clues that you can see to help you discern who seemingly just left their boat behind. You cast your gaze back towards Tala, who now has her spear in hand. “Can you fight?” <ul class = "arrow"> <li><<if $blue gt $purple and $blue gt $red>>[[“Fighting isn’t something I’ve ever really prioritized mastering, no,” you offer with an apologetic smile.|2.22][$diplomat to $diplomat + 2]]<</if>><<if $purple gt $blue and $purple gt $red>>[[“Me? The only child of famously neutral farmers?” you try to joke lightly, though it ends up more like a grimace.|2.22][$diplomat to $diplomat +2]]<</if>><<if $red gt $blue and $red gt $purple>>[[You eye her weapons. “I doubt I’ll be of much use to you in that regard.”|2.22][$diplomat to $diplomat + 2]]<</if>></li> <li><<if $blue gt $purple and $blue gt $red>>[[“If it’s absolutely necessary,” you meet her eyes resolutely and nod, lending your support to her.|2.22][$fighter to $fighter + 2]]<</if>><<if $purple gt $blue and $purple gt $red>>[[“Much to my mother’s chagrin, yes,” you grin irreverently, bouncing on your heels at the prospect.|2.22][$fighter to $fighter + 2]]<</if>><<if $red gt $blue and $red gt $purple>>[[You roll your shoulders, muscles awakening at the question. “I can handle myself.”|2.22][$fighter to $fighter + 2]]<</if>></li></ul>

Tala sucks in a cheek, eyes cast unseeingly at the foreign balangay. Her lips purse as she considers your current situation. “If this was to be an ambush it seems a poor one. Why tip us off to their presence?” she ponders out loud. “Bait? Distraction? Coincidence?” you provide. “It’s possible…” Tala hums in consideration before turning to you. “Should we wait a little and see if someone comes back for their balangay?” You gesture around at the large boat you’re on. You’d be spotted from leagues away. “How?” Tala’s determined expression twists into something a little impish. She places an open palm against the balangay’s hull and the wood begins to disappear a beat later, spreading until you can look down and see the sea under your feet. “You’re full of surprises, goddess of the stars.” “Granted, my reasons for not wanting to be found are typically much less foreboding,” she unlatches her bow from her back and reaches for an arrow from her quiver, twirling it between her fingers before nocking it into place in a naturally fluid motion. She keeps a finger on the intersection of the bow and arrow to hold it in place as she lets it rest against her side, ready to shoot at a moment’s notice. “Keep an eye out, $name.” <<if $diplomat gt $fighter>>Your heart races at the possibility of a violent confrontation. You hope it doesn’t have to come down to that—even Mayari hadn’t escaped unscathed the last time. [[Continue|2.23]]<<else>>Your heart speeds up at the possibility of a violent confrontation. It was inevitable, you reason, especially since Mayari had to escape an attack herself. You tighten your grip on your… <ul class = "arrow"> <li><<link [[axe.|2.23]]>><<set $mcweapon to "axe">><</link>></li> <li><<link [[sword.|2.23]]>><<set $mcweapon to "sword">><</link>></li> <li><<link [[knife.|2.23]]>><<set $mcweapon to "knife">><</link>></li> <li><<link [[bow.|2.23]]>><<set $mcweapon to "bow">><</link>></li> <li><<link [[spear.|2.23]]>><<set $mcweapon to "spear">><</link>></li></ul><</if>>

<<set $meetfight to true>><<if $reactive gt $proactive>><<if $fighter gt $diplomat>>Your <<if $mcweapon is "axe">>axe<</if>><<if $mcweapon is "sword">>sword<</if>><<if $mcweapon is "knife">>knife<</if>><<if $mcweapon is "bow">>bow<</if>><<if $mcweapon is "spear">>spear<</if>> is a familiar weight, its leather handle perfectly molded to your hand. You examine the foreign boat side by side with Tala. It’s a smaller balangay, clearly meant for just one person. Neither of you make a sound, time stretching between you as you wait for something to break the deceptively calm rhythm of the ocean. A bead of sweat trails down your temple as the sun blossoms and you let it drip down to your jaw and off of your chin. You spot a shadow growing under the surface of the ocean and you gesture urgently to Tala. She lets an arrow loose with no hesitation, piercing through the air and water straight and true. Red muddies the blue of the ocean as she leaps off the balangay and nocks another arrow midair, hovering threateningly over her submerged target without ever getting her feet wet. Seconds later an arm shoots out of the water, scrabbling against the side of the balangay for purchase. You squint. The tattoos tickle your memory. You’ve seen those patterns before. “Tala, wait—” The rest of the intruder’s torso bursts through the water, a knife drawn in his free hand despite the arrow protruding from his other shoulder. He’s grimacing, no doubt in pain from such a close shot, though that pales in comparison to the anger radiating from his furrowed brow and his clenched jaw. “State your purpose.” Her voice takes on a dangerous, authoritative tone. “With all due respect,” a familiar voice responds, dripping with derision despite his polite words. “You shot at me, goddess of the stars.” Fuck. There in the water, Duma grips the side of his balangay. “Wrong answer.” Tala’s arm pulls back—<</if>><<if $diplomat gt $fighter>>You face away from the boat, covering Tala’s back. Neither of you make a sound, time stretching between you as you wait for something to break the deceptively calm rhythm of the ocean. A bead of sweat trails down your temple as the sun blossoms and you let it drip down to your jaw and off of your chin. There’s a splash behind you, jarringly loud given how focused you are. It’s immediately followed by the the sound of an arrow piercing through the air. You can tell Tala hit her mark by the pained yell she causes, along with an accompanying curse. You turn to find Tala immediately leaping off the balangay. She nocks another arrow midair, hovering threateningly over her target without ever getting her feet wet. “State your purpose.” Her voice takes on a dangerous, authoritative tone. Tala blocks your line of sight, and from the balangay all you can see is stray arms. You squint. The tattoos tickle your memory. You’ve seen those patterns before. “With all due respect,” a familiar voice responds, dripping with derision despite his polite words. “You shot at me, goddess of the stars.” Fuck. “Wrong answer.” Tala’s arm pulls back— “Wait!” you interrupt, moving so you can see past her and confirm your suspicion. There in the water, Duma grips the side of his balangay. An arrow protrudes from his shoulder and his own blood darkens the ocean around him. He’s grimacing, no doubt in pain from such a close shot, though that pales in comparison to the anger radiating from his furrowed brow and his clenched jaw. Despite his injury his knife is drawn, its sharp tip directed at Tala.<</if>><</if>><<if $proactive gt $reactive>><<if $fighter gt $diplomat>>Your <<if $mcweapon is "axe">>axe<</if>><<if $mcweapon is "sword">>sword<</if>><<if $mcweapon is "knife">>knife<</if>><<if $mcweapon is "bow">>bow<</if>><<if $mcweapon is "spear">>spear<</if>> is a familiar weight, its leather handle perfectly molded to your hand. You stand watch over the foreign boat side by side with Tala. The deceptively calm rhythm of the ocean makes you restless. When you eventually spot a shadow under the surface of the water you leap from the Sibat to the other without hesitation, crouching immediately. You’re ready when a splash bursts through the surface of the water. You jump up with your <<if $mcweapon is "axe">>axe<</if>><<if $mcweapon is "sword">>sword<</if>><<if $mcweapon is "knife">>knife<</if>><<if $mcweapon is "bow">>bow<</if>><<if $mcweapon is "spear">>spear<</if>> raised, not knowing to expect but prepared to fight for some answers all the same. The face that greets you makes you freeze. The intruder’s eyes widen for a second before he cries out in pain. But he doesn’t miss a beat and spins, knife blade glinting in the sun, to direct his attention at Tala. “State your purpose.” Her voice takes on a dangerous, authoritative tone, hovering threateningly over her target without ever getting her feet wet. “Tala, wait.” “With all due respect,” Duma responds as you wince, dripping with derision despite his polite words. “You shot at me, goddess of the stars.” “Wrong answer.” Tala’s arm pulls back—<</if>><<if $diplomat gt $fighter>>You stand watch over the foreign boat side by side with Tala, squinting as you examine it. It’s a smaller balangay, clearly meant for just one person, but that’s all you can glean from here. You get Tala’s attention with a staccato hiss, a short stream of air escaping between your tongue and the back of your teeth. From your peripheral you catch her nod and you gesture to the other balangay with your chin. She nods again. You leap off of the Sibat and onto the smaller boat, crouching immediately. You cast your gaze around and find nothing unexpected for a sailing trip. Some fresh produce tells you they haven’t been traveling long but that they rationed for a week or two. There’s a sheathed sword resting against the side of the boat and you tilt your head in thought. You’ve seen that hilt somewhere before. Your eyes dart back to the produce. You jump to your feet. “Tala, wait—” There’s a splash accompanied immediately by a pained yell and you wince to find her hovering threateningly over her target without ever getting her feet wet, arrow nocked. Despite the arrow protruding from his shoulder, the intruder has his knife directed at Tala. “State your purpose.” Her voice takes on a dangerous, authoritative tone. “With all due respect,” Duma responds as you wince, dripping with derision despite his polite words. “You shot at me, goddess of the stars.” “Wrong answer.” Tala’s arm pulls back—<</if>><</if>> “Wait!” you repeat, raising your hands to placate them as they direct their aggravated gazes at you. “Give me a good reason why $name.” “$name,” Duma addresses you without taking his eyes off of Tala. “What are you doing here?” “I’m the one asking questions, Dumakulem.” She stretches her bow string taut. “What are you doing here? Did my brother send you?” “Did your sister send you?” Gone is the polite young god that <<if $helpduma is true>>shared a meal with your family<<else>>visited your family<</if>> just a few nights ago. In his place is a hardened warrior, bold enough to raise his sword against one of Bathala’s children. It strikes you that they’ve fought on opposite sides of a war. Have they been in this same position before? “<<if $dumapoints gte 2>>I think Duma can help us<<else>>Maybe he can help us<</if>>. He approached my parents in Bulul, concerned about the tensions between your brother and sister,” you say carefully, not wanting to exacerbate the situation. <<if $helpduma is true>>“He was staying with us the night that the moon disappeared.”<</if>> Tala looks back at Duma. “Again—state your purpose.” <<if $dumapoints gte 2>>Duma raises an eyebrow at you and you nod at him encouragingly.<<else>>Duma almost looks like he’ll defy her again before he lets out a huff.<</if>> “I’m following a lead.” Tala rolls her eyes at his stoically petulant answer. “You should know that I’m not nearly as patient as my sister.” Duma purses his lips, seeming to make a decision before elaborating. “I’ve been tracking the aswang.” That placates Tala a little and she lowers her bow just a touch. “The aswang? In Kaluwalhatian?” Duma nods simply, though you can tell that he’s just as unsettled as Tala. “That’s impossible.” “Unfortunately, it’s not,” he narrows his eyes at Tala without further explanation. “What led you two here?” Tala doesn’t seem eager to explain so you supply with a gesture to the still invisible balangay around you, “This is why I was summoned that morning, Duma.” You see when it clicks in the way his brows smooth over and his eyes widen just a little. “The missing moon.” He looks back at Tala with a frown. “That’s why you shot me.” Tala shrugs flippantly before securing her arrow in its quiver and her bow against her back. “I would probably do it again.” [[Continue|2.24]]

“Come.” Tala directs as she plants on her feet on the balangay once again, not bothering to help Duma up to board. She places a hand on the side of the boat and the shroud around it ripples before fading away. Duma sucks his cheek, clearly displeased with the situation, before he lifts himself up and onto his boat. The strain aggravates his wound and fresh rivers of blood stream down his arm. He curses, reaching for a satchel as he prepares to board Tala’s balangay.<<if $dromancepts gte 2>> You follow the water sluicing down his skin, finding the divots between his toned muscles and stark tattoos. His dark red bahag is drenched. It clings to his hips and thighs, hiding absolutely nothing. You swallow drily—you’re parched all of a sudden.<</if>> <<if $dumapoints gte 2>><<if $proactive gt $reactive>>You hop over to the Sibat before holding<<else>>You hold<</if>> out a hand for Duma as he jumps between the boats. He clasps your forearm with a grateful nod<<if $dromancepts gte 2>> and you’re acutely aware of where your skin touches. You can’t help but smile back at him a little, neck warming. You hadn’t expected to see him again so soon.<<else>> and smile back him almost apologetically. You hadn’t expected that the intruder would be him nor that Tala would shoot without hesitation.<</if>> He takes a seat on one of the benches, pointedly putting as much distance between himself and Tala.<</if>><<if $dumapoints lt 2>><<if $proactive gt $reactive>>You hop over to the Sibat and turn back, considering<<else>>You consider<</if>> offering to help Duma but he makes the decision for you. Despite his injury he makes the leap smoothly and makes his way to one of the benches, glare firmly in place as he puts as much distance between himself and Tala as could be considered polite.<</if>> “What business does the god of mountains have with tracking the aswang?” Tala questions without preamble, arms folded as she leans against the side of the boat. Duma takes his time with answering, hissing as he prods the arrow wound to see how deeply it’s embedded. His eyes are on his shoulder as he responds. “What business does the goddess of the stars have with being where they were detected in Kaluwalhatian?” Tala steps off and stands straighter. Her jaw clenches. “How long ago were they here?” She’s met with a sharp crack as Duma snaps the arrow’s shaft clean off with his knife. It’s <<if $dumapoints gte 2>>impressive<<else>>surprising<</if>> how meticulously he’s treating himself, especially with only the use of one hand. He faces Tala with a stoic pragmatism, both of his elbows resting on his thighs. “Roughly two nights ago.” “Shit.” You and Tala echo curses, eyes meeting with grim understanding. For the first time since Mayari assigned you both this task, Tala looks worried. Her concerns are certainly warranted. The aswang are aimlessly wicked shapeshifting creatures who dwell in Kasamaan, the tainted underworld and origin of all evil. Their transformational abilities allows them to wreak havoc on earth, blending in with the humans and their surroundings until they inevitably act on their bottomless hunger. Their proboscis tongues and the multiple rows of their sharp teeth are the foundations of many a nightmare, both imagined and real. Thankfully, they’re night dwellers. Otherwise you’d be antsy to leave. To conceive that they could be polluting Kaluwalhatian is almost blasphemous, but nothing about this chain of events feels coincidental. Things are irreversibly changing, and somehow you’ve found yourself <<if $srpoints lte 0>>in a position to do something about it<<else>>getting dragged into it<</if>>. [[Continue|2.25]]

<><<set $aswangcodex to true>><>@@.heading3;⋗ Deities and spirits updated: the aswang ⋖@@ Duma tends to his wound as you and Tala absorb the implications of what you just learned. He’s methodical in his movements, looping a wiry rope around the arrow and pulling it out cleanly with the efficiency of a practiced hunter. He barely winces save for a furrowed brow and finishes the wound with a salve meant to stimulate his healing abilities before wrapping it with a clean bandage. He stands, satchel in hand. “Now, if we’re done here—” “We’re not,” Tala interrupts. “What proof is there besides your word that Kaluwalhatian is at risk?” “Your brother declaring war based on this conviction still doesn’t suffice?” Duma counters as quick as he is firm. You see the volley ready to launch from Tala’s tongue and decide to intervene, <<if $srpoints gte 1>>having quite enough of their fruitless arguing<<else>>not wanting to let them spiral into a standoff<</if>>. <<if $blue gt $purple and $blue gt $red>>“Surely our energy is better spent on the task at hand?”<</if>><<if $purple gt $blue and $purple gt $red>>“Did you two become the deities of bickering when I wasn’t looking or something? Bathala bless us.”<</if>><<if $red gt $blue and $red gt $purple>>“Both of you, enough. This squabbling is unbecoming.”<</if>> They both turn to look at you, mouths open in protest, when you raise a hand. <<if $diplomat gt $fighter>>You choose to speak towards their duty, which you know can overcome even the most begrudging of tempers. “We’re all here for our own reasons. The sooner we figure out how those connect, the more we can do about it.”<<else>>You choose to speak towards their passion, which right now is misdirected by their tempers. “Instead of wasting time and energy arguing amongst ourselves we can figure out what brought us all here.”<</if>> Duma lets out a frustrated exhale, running a hand through his hair, and Tala shifts, recrossing her arms before dropping them to her sides. “Well, I’ve justified my presence here but I’ve yet to hear what led you two to this exact location,” Duma says in what must be a mollified tone for him, though a level of gruffness seems to be inherent in most things he says. You glance at Tala and she gives you a stiff nod. You walk Duma through what’s happened since you saw him last, from what you discovered regarding Mayari’s ambush to the map that led you here, where it happened. Duma connects the dots without much prompting, mouth drawing down into a thoughtful frown at the implications of this new information. Tala, who hasn’t said much since you interrupted them both, speaks up. “If you can lead us to where the aswang went next then that might be worth betraying my sister’s trust.” Duma looks like he might say something in retort but wisely thinks better of it. “Between the three of us, surely we can identify something worthwhile.” “Gather what you need from your boat and then I’ll send it back to your mountains,” Tala supplies. “Send it as a decoy for where we’re going,” you suggest. “Clearly the pantheon is being watched.” They both nod in agreement. At least they’re cooperating now. Tala and Duma split off, with the former occupying herself under the thatched roof of the balangay and the latter jumping back across to his own boat. You… <ul class = "arrow"> <li><<if $talapoints gte 2>>[[reconvene with Tala.|2.26.1]]<<else>>You are not yet close enough to Tala to choose this option.<</if>></li> <li><<if $dumapoints gte 2>>[[follow Duma.|2.26.2]]<<else>>You are not yet close enough to Duma to choose this option.<</if>></li> <li><<if $dumapoints gte 2 and $talapoints gte 2>>[[want to speak with them both.|2.26.3][$ot3pts to $ot3pts + 1]]<<else>>You are not yet close enough to Tala or Duma to choose this option.<</if>></li> <li>[[need some time to yourself.|2.26.4]]</li></ul>

You walk back towards the shaded living quarters of the Sibat. Tala’s grumbling grows louder as you find her aggressively tidying up the sleeping area, still disheveled from how urgently you both woke up this morning. “Can’t believe I have to drag him along now… surprised his big head didn’t sink the boat when he set foot on it… Father grant me patience—” “Tala?” Tala takes in a sharp inhale, holding it for what you assume is meant to be a calming beat, before pushing it out of her chest. Her eyes flash with emotion before she schools her expression somewhat as she finally addresses you. “Yes?” “I just came to check on you,” you say carefully. “That was… a lot.” Tala laughs humorlessly. “The aswang in Kaluwalhatian. What else will we discover on this journey?” “Hopefully where the moon is,” you offer with a hint of her own sarcastic tone. A corner of her lip quirks up slightly at that and you can feel the unsettled energy around her calm just a little. “Hopefully. At the very least.” You watch as she fiddles with the edge of one of the blankets. You can tell her thoughts are flying; she looks at something past you, gaze unfocused. <ul class = "arrow"> <li><<link [[“Mayari is as protected as she can be at the House of Bathala,” you guess at the root of her distracted concern.|2.26.11]]>><<set $tfriendpts to $tfriendpts + 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link [[You take a seat right next to her on the floor, nudging her shoulder as you take the blanket out of her hands.|2.26.12]]>><<set $tromancepts to $tromancepts + 1>><<set $proactive to $proactive + 2>><</link>></li> <li><<link [[You reach over to put a hand on the blanket she’s folding. You may not be able to erase her worries but you can still help. “May I?”|2.26.13]]>><<set $tromancepts to $tromancepts + 1>><<set $reactive to $reactive + 2>><</link>></li></ul>

You hop over to Duma’s balangay and find him collecting the rest of this things. You note a few other weapons you hadn’t seen before, mostly hunting knives of varying lengths tucked into a leather wrap, as well as an open satchel with his personal belongings and a sturdy fishing pole. Duma nods in acknowledgment of your arrival before returning to his task. You eye his shoulder, relieved to find that he hasn’t continued bleeding. “The mosquito bites on earth are worse than this, trust me,” he says as he packs his satchel. You kiss your teeth. “That was such a close shot.” Duma shrugs it off. “She won’t get that close again.” He says it matter-of-factly, reminding you once again that he’s a warrior that’s survived a civil war. You hope that having a common enemy will help keep the peace between Duma and Tala. You’re not trying to have any reenactments on the Sibat. “Did you end up seeing Apolaki after you left Bulul?” “Yes,” Duma responds. “But I came here of my own volition.” He refers to Tala’s question from before. “Do you think he was involved with this?” “I wish I could say he would never attack Mayari but obviously I can’t,” Duma admits with care. “He didn’t allude to anything about that, but that could mean anything.” “They’re all so stubborn,” Duma mutters, mostly to himself, rubbing his temples with one hand. “Get it all out now before we have to live on a boat together,” you supply. Duma huffs, sounding suspiciously like a chuckle. <ul class = "arrow"> <li><<link [[“For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re joining us,” you tell him genuinely.|2.26.21]]>><<set $dfriendpts to $dfriendpts + 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link [[“You know, you were right about seeing each other again soon,” you step closer to him. “I’m curious what you’ll predict next.”|2.26.22]]>><<set $dromancepts to $dromancepts + 1>><<set $proactive to $proactive + 2>><</link>></li> <li><<link [[You catch the dry amusement in his eyes, hanging onto the moment before you realize he’s watching you watch him.|2.26.23]]>><<set $dromancepts to $dromancepts + 1>><<set $reactive to $reactive + 2>><</link>></li></ul>

You walk back towards the shaded living quarters of the Sibat. Tala’s grumbling grows louder as you find her aggressively tidying up the sleeping area, still disheveled from how urgently you both woke up this morning. “Can’t believe I have to drag him along now… surprised his big head didn’t sink the boat when he set foot on it… Father grant me patience—” “Tala?” Tala takes in a sharp inhale, holding it for what you assume is meant to be a calming beat, before pushing it out of her chest. Her eyes flash with emotion before she schools her expression somewhat as she finally addresses you. “Yes?” “I just came to check on you,” you say carefully. “That was… a lot.” Tala laughs humorlessly. “The aswang in Kaluwalhatian. What else will we discover on this journey?” “Hopefully where the moon is,” you offer with a hint of her own sarcastic tone. A corner of her lip quirks up slightly at that and you can feel the unsettled energy around her calm just a little. “Hopefully. At the very least.” You watch as she fiddles with the edge of one of the blankets. You can tell her thoughts are flying; she looks at something past you, gaze unfocused. <ul class = "arrow"> <li><<link [[“Mayari is as protected as she can be at the House of Bathala,” you guess at the root of her distracted concern.|2.26.31]]>><<set $tfriendpts to $tfriendpts + 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link [[You take a seat right next to her on the floor, nudging her shoulder as you take the blanket out of her hands.|2.26.32]]>><<set $tromancepts to $tromancepts + 1>><<set $proactive to $proactive + 2>><</link>></li> <li><<link [[You reach over to put a hand on the blanket she’s folding. You may not be able to erase her worries but you can still help. “May I?”|2.26.33]]>><<set $tromancepts to $tromancepts + 1>><<set $reactive to $reactive + 2>><</link>></li></ul>

<><<if $srpoints eq 1>><<set $srpoints to $srpoints + 1>><</if>><>You take the opportunity to sit by yourself, knowing that moments of peace will be rare from now on. Between Tala and Duma’s animosity, the tensions between the rulers, and now the reportedly aswang infiltrating, gone are the days you used to spend meandering and taking your time. Will you actually be expected to fight the aswang in your search for the moon? <<if $diplomat gt $fighter>>Could you not simply point Mayari in its direction and let her handle the rest?<<else>>The prospect is equal parts exciting and terrifying.<</if>> You’re not even quite sure if you believe Duma. You’ll have to see it for yourself. Tala is proving to be unpredictable too, you consider. She was quick to act this morning, going from a lively seafarer to an unhesitating archer overnight. It seems that these two are your best chance at fulfilling the task that Mayari assigned you. Without them you wouldn’t know where to go next or how to get there. You’ll all have to trust each other’s intentions. For now, at least. [[Continue|2.27]]

She lets you take it, leaning her shoulder against yours for a beat. The blanket smells like her, sweet jasmine brightened by the freshness of the sea. “What would ease your mind right now?” you ask helpfully, wanting to take advantage of this quieter moment alone. Tala smirks, eyes flashing. “Careful asking that in my bed, $name. It’s a shame we’re so busy.” You meet her gaze just as boldly, skin flushing with heat at her insinuation. “Already thinking about me? Because I was thinking about making breakfast or something.” “Breakfast isn’t quite enough to distract me from this mess,” Tala waves her hand around. “That’s thoughtful of you to offer though.” She smooths over with a smile. <<if $blue gt $purple and $blue gt $red>>“That’s what you can call on me for,” you say genuinely. Tala’s eyes widen slightly at your words and you think you might see her cheeks darken just a shade. You sit up straighter, encouraged in your attentions. “Oh?” she holds your gaze. “I’ll hold you to that.”<</if>><<if $purple gt $blue and $purple gt $red>>“It is—I don’t make this offer to just anyone, after all,” you lean towards her just a little with a disarming smile. She holds your gaze boldly, smugly. “Oh? How special.”<</if>><<if $red gt $blue and $red gt $purple>>“It’s impossible to uncover the heavens’ biggest mysteries on an empty stomach,” you say with an exaggerated gravity as you nod. “Thank you for being so concerned for me,” Tala responds indulgently, looking pleased with your attention.<</if>> “So, what does the goddess of the stars like to eat in the mornings?” “Fruits, mostly,” she considers. “Do we have any fresh coconuts too?” You nod and she smiles at you. You return it, chest expanding with satisfaction. “It will be alright, Tala,” you say. “We’ll figure out what’s going on.” She hums in response, mood lighter than when you first saw her. [[Continue|2.27]]

Tala’s silver eyes flit to meet yours, widening a little at the gesture. She nods and lets you take the blanket. It smells like her, sweet jasmine brightened by the freshness of the sea. Tala watches as you fold it neatly and store it with the sleeping mats. It’s your mess too after all, and with another person coming onto the boat, keeping the Sibat neat can’t hurt. “Do you always clean up the bed in the mornings, or only for people you’ve spent the night with?” Your head snaps to look back at her. You find mirth in her eyes and a smirk on her face before she lets out a bark of laughter. “Spirits, your expression!” You blink a few times even though you know it won’t succeed in cooling the warmth creeping up your neck at her casual insinuation. Tala lets you gather a response, smiling smugly. <<if $blue gt $purple and $blue gt $red>>“Only if I want to know them better,” you say after a beat with a growing smile, both of you feeling the weighted meaning of your words.<</if>><<if $purple gt $blue and $purple gt $red>>“Only if they’re worth the trouble,” you mirror her a portion of her smirk after a beat, savoring her attention.<</if>><<if $red gt $blue and $red gt $purple>>“Only if I care to see them again,” you look right at her after a beat. She might’ve caught you off guard but two can play that game.<</if>> Now it’s Tala’s turn to take a moment. Your chest expands with satisfaction, pleased with yourself for keeping up with her. “Keeping me on my toes, hmm?” Tala smiles at you indulgently and the expression makes your skin tingle. She gives you a more serious look. “Thank you for checking on me. I needed that laugh.” “It will be alright, Tala,” you say. “We’ll figure out what’s going on.” She hums in response, mood lighter than when you first saw her. [[Continue|2.27]]

The sun is hanging comfortably in the sky when the three of you gather by the bow. Tala leans a hip on her drum while Duma stands against the side of the boat. You take a seat on the bench, the same one you were on yesterday when Tala took you both for a ride. She tilts her chin at Duma. “So, how have you been tracking the aswang then?” “They're so erratic that they're predictable,” Duma crosses his arms. “I’ve caught traces of them in traps on earth.” “Do you have traps in Kaluwalhatian too?” you ask. Duma shakes his head. “I hadn’t thought I needed to until now. But I noticed something when I would travel to report to Apolaki.” He searches through his satchel for a roll of leather. Duma opens it up, revealing a severed appendage, still complete with a claw, almost as big as Duma’s palm. Tala recoils in disgust, face scrunching as she realizes what she’s looking at. “Look closely. Do you notice anything?” You peer at it, noting the unnatural combination of human joints and the rough texture of bird’s feet. The claw makes up almost half of the whole thing. An odd, sickly shroud surrounds it, significant in contrast against Duma’s hand, which is a healthy, glowing tan. Just looking at it makes you shudder a bit. “Kaluwalhatian is rejecting it, isn’t it,” Tala surmises, having gotten over her repulsion. Duma nods, encouraging her observation. “It’s not as noticeable on earth, but the structure here knows it doesn’t belong.” He waves the claw in front of you and you can see the shroud trailing behind the movement. “They can’t help but leave tracks behind here.” Duma gestures to the waters around you. “Notice how quiet the spirits are? The aswang kill blindly, leaving gaps and causing dispersions.” “And so all that led you here?” Tala asks, sounding almost impressed. Duma nods. “I got out of my balangay to see if looking under the water line would glean anything. If you hadn’t… interrupted me, I would’ve continued following the trail.” <<if $srpoints eq 0>>That sparks a thought in you. You reach around your waist, pulling out the map you and Tala created together. You hold it towards her. “Do you think it could work?” Tala looks skeptical, but nods anyway. Duma steps off of the side of the boat to look at the map when you unroll it. “This,” you elaborate. “is what showed us the way. Mayari asked me to find the moon and for Tala to guide us there, and together our gifts manifested.”<<else>>Tala eyes Duma, seeming to make a decision before she steps off of her drum and stands straight. She reaches around her waist, pulling out the map that you created together. “This might make it easier.” “The map?” Duma steps forward too. She waves the scroll around before unrolling it. “I had a hunch about combining gifts,” Tala makes a bit of a face at her own suggestion, realizing she’ll have to do the same with Duma now. “My sister prayed to both of us to find the moon and that manifested into this map.”<</if>> “Fascinating,” Duma examines the map. <<if $blue gt $purple and $blue gt $red>>You bite your lip, voicing something that’s been on your mind since you got here. “The moon isn’t here though.”<</if>><<if $purple gt $blue and $purple gt $red>>You kiss your teeth, covering up a concern that’s been blooming since you got here with a quip. “I’d be more impressed with myself if the moon was actually here.”<</if>><<if $red gt $purple and $red gt $blue>>You cross your arms, looking impassively upon the map. “It would’ve been more impressive if the moon was actually here.”<</if>> “I don’t suppose you found a stray lunar object down there?” Tala tilts her chin at the water. “Unfortunately not,” Duma thinks, pursing his lips. “That was a day ago though. The prayers are getting stronger.” You and Tala both nod. You’ve felt the limits of your gifts expand already. Just being able to create the map wouldn’t have been previously achievable. “In the meantime,” Tala supplies, offering one side of the map to Duma. “It seems like your trail is our best lead.” [[Continue|2.28]]

Tala’s silver eyes flit back to meet yours. She’s so expressive in any other situation, but you can almost see the layer of guarded protection that covers her family in her shining irises. <<if $LMpoints gte 4>>You can certainly relate, feeling uneasy with your parents’ unknown level of involvement in this. Mayari mentioned needing to speak with them again, though you haven’t had a chance to discover about what yet. You remind yourself to send a message through the tigmamanukan later.<</if>> “They attacked her in the middle of the open sea because they don’t have any other opportunities,” you continue, hoping your words offer at least a little comfort. “They shouldn’t be here at all,” Tala rebuts, though without any venom towards you, just begrudging resignation. You nod, having a hard time wrapping your mind around it all as well. After a few moments Tala speaks up again. “Thank you for saying that though. You’re right.” <<if $blue gt $purple and $blue gt $red>>“Of course,” you give her a bolstering smile.<</if>><<if $purple gt $blue and $purple gt $red>>“Of course I am,” you give her a jovial smile.<</if>><<if $red gt $blue and $red gt $purple>>“Of course,” you give her a resolute look.<</if>> “Do you really believe him?” Tala asks you after a beat. “About the aswang?” “I feel like I have more reason to believe him than not.” Tala observes you thoughtfully. “You said he spoke to your parents about my siblings?” “He was worried, said that it felt like Apolaki was looking for an excuse to fight Mayari.” Tala tsks. “They’re always under such scrutiny.” “It would be a lot easier for him to dismiss this as petty rivalry than to try to find the truth behind how everything is connected.” Tala considers that, eventually nodding slowly. “I suppose overthinking this won’t help us. Let’s see how good his tracking skills really are.” [[Continue|2.26.3.1]]

She lets you take it, leaning her shoulder against yours for a beat. The blanket smells like her, sweet jasmine brightened by the freshness of the sea. “What would ease your mind right now?” you ask helpfully, wanting to take advantage of this quieter moment alone. Tala smirks, eyes flashing. “Careful asking that in my bed, $name. It’s a shame we’re so busy.” You meet her gaze just as boldly, skin flushing with heat at her insinuation. “Already thinking about me? Because I was thinking about making breakfast or something.” “Breakfast isn’t quite enough to distract me from this mess,” Tala waves her hand around. “That’s thoughtful of you to offer though.” She smooths over with a smile. <<if $blue gt $purple and $blue gt $red>>“That’s what you can call on me for,” you say genuinely. Tala’s eyes widen slightly at your words and you think you might see her cheeks darken just a shade. You sit up straighter, encouraged in your attentions. “Oh?” she holds your gaze. “I’ll hold you to that.”<</if>><<if $purple gt $blue and $purple gt $red>>“It is—I don’t make this offer to just anyone, after all,” you lean towards her just a little with a disarming smile. She holds your gaze boldly, smugly. “Oh? How special.”<</if>><<if $red gt $blue and $red gt $purple>>“It’s impossible to uncover the heavens’ biggest mysteries on an empty stomach,” you say with an exaggerated gravity as you nod. “Thank you for being so concerned for me,” Tala responds indulgently, looking pleased with your attention.<</if>> “So, what does the goddess of the stars like to eat in the mornings?” “Fruits, mostly,” she considers. “Do we have any fresh coconuts too?” You nod and she smiles at you. You return it, chest expanding with satisfaction. “It will be alright, Tala,” you say. “We’ll figure out what’s going on.” “Do you really believe him?” Tala asks you after a beat. “About the aswang?” “I feel like I have more reason to believe him than not.” Tala observes you thoughtfully. “You said he spoke to your parents about my siblings?” “He was worried, said that it felt like Apolaki was looking for an excuse to fight Mayari.” Tala tsks. “They’re always under such scrutiny.” “It would be a lot easier for him to dismiss this as petty rivalry than to try to find the truth behind how everything is connected.” Tala considers that, eventually nodding slowly. “I suppose overthinking this won’t help us. Let’s see how good his tracking skills really are.” [[Continue|2.26.3.1]]

Tala’s silver eyes flit to meet yours, widening a little at the gesture. She nods and lets you take the blanket. It smells like her, sweet jasmine brightened by the freshness of the sea. Tala watches as you fold it neatly and store it with the sleeping mats. It’s your mess too after all, and with another person coming onto the boat, keeping the Sibat neat can’t hurt. “Do you always clean up the bed in the mornings, or only for people you’ve spent the night with?” Your head snaps to look back at her. You find mirth in her eyes and a smirk on her face before she lets out a bark of laughter. “Spirits, your expression!” You blink a few times even though you know it won’t succeed in cooling the warmth creeping up your neck at her casual insinuation. Tala lets you gather a response, smiling smugly. <<if $blue gt $purple and $blue gt $red>>“Only if I want to know them better,” you say after a beat with a growing smile, both of you feeling the weighted meaning of your words.<</if>><<if $purple gt $blue and $purple gt $red>>“Only if they’re worth the trouble,” you mirror her a portion of her smirk after a beat, savoring her attention.<</if>><<if $red gt $blue and $red gt $purple>>“Only if I care to see them again,” you look right at her after a beat. She might’ve caught you off guard but two can play that game.<</if>> Now it’s Tala’s turn to take a moment. Your chest expands with satisfaction, pleased with yourself for keeping up with her. “Keeping me on my toes, hmm?” Tala smiles at you indulgently and the expression makes your skin tingle. She gives you a more serious look. “Thank you for checking on me. I needed that laugh.” “It will be alright, Tala,” you say. “We’ll figure out what’s going on.” “Do you really believe him?” Tala asks you after a beat. “About the aswang?” “I feel like I have more reason to believe him than not.” Tala observes you thoughtfully. “You said he spoke to your parents about my siblings?” “He was worried, said that it felt like Apolaki was looking for an excuse to fight Mayari.” Tala tsks. “They’re always under such scrutiny.” “It would be a lot easier for him to dismiss this as petty rivalry than to try to find the truth behind how everything is connected.” Tala considers that, eventually nodding slowly. “I suppose overthinking this won’t help us. Let’s see how good his tracking skills really are.” [[Continue|2.26.3.1]]

You leave Tala to check on Duma, hopping over to Duma’s balangay to find him collecting the rest of this things. You note a few other weapons you hadn’t seen before, mostly hunting knives of varying lengths tucked into a leather wrap, as well as an open satchel with his personal belongings and a sturdy fishing pole. Duma nods in acknowledgment of your arrival before returning to his task. You eye his shoulder, relieved to find that he hasn’t continued bleeding. “The mosquito bites on earth are worse than this, trust me,” he says as he packs his satchel. You kiss your teeth. “That was such a close shot.” Duma shrugs it off. “She won’t get that close again.” He says it matter-of-factly, reminding you once again that he’s a warrior that’s survived a civil war. You hope that having a common enemy will help keep the peace between Duma and Tala. You’re not trying to have any reenactments on the Sibat. “Did you end up seeing Apolaki after you left Bulul?” “Yes,” Duma responds. “But I came here of my own volition.” He refers to Tala’s question from before. “Do you think he was involved with this?” “I wish I could say he would never attack Mayari but obviously I can’t,” Duma admits with care. “He didn’t allude to anything about that, but that could mean anything.” “They’re all so stubborn,” Duma mutters, mostly to himself, rubbing his temples with one hand. “Get it all out now before we have to live on a boat together,” you supply. Duma huffs, sounding suspiciously like a chuckle. <ul class = "arrow"> <li><<link [[“For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re joining us,” you tell him genuinely.|2.26.3.11]]>><<set $dfriendpts to $dfriendpts + 1>><</link>></li> <li><<link [[“You know, you were right about seeing each other again soon,” you step closer to him. “I’m curious what you’ll predict next.”|2.26.3.12]]>><<set $dromancepts to $dromancepts + 1>><<set $proactive to $proactive + 2>><</link>></li> <li><<link [[You catch the dry amusement in his eyes, hanging onto the moment before you realize he’s watching you watch him.|2.26.3.13]]>><<set $dromancepts to $dromancepts + 1>><<set $reactive to $reactive + 2>><</link>></li></ul>

Duma’s useful skillset aside, his decisive presence is reassuring. He acts with a sense of direction that helps you make sense of this whole situation. Or at least, what to do next. Duma examines you before he grants you a small smile. “Thanks.” <<if $blue gt $purple and $blue gt $red>>“We’re lucky we found you here instead of…” you trail off, grimacing a little. Duma nods with understanding. “They’re long gone now at least. For better or for worse.” “I’m not used to feeling a step behind.” “It’s an advantage when hunting,” Duma shares. “Especially when you can outlast them in the end.”<</if>><<if $purple gt $blue and $purple gt $red>>You tilt your chin towards his fish pole with a teasing smirk. “We’re going to run out of fish soon, what with your appetite and all anyway.” “Is that all I’m good for to you?” “My family grows food, not hunt it.” Duma rolls his eyes, though you can tell he’s at least somewhat amused. “You’re lucky I enjoy fishing.”<</if>><<if $red gt $blue and $red gt $purple>>You nod in response, granting him a smile yourself. Duma’s solid energy is a welcome one to balance Tala’s liveliness. He wordlessly tilts his chin at some familiar baskets of food and you fetch them, the both of you preparing to transfer what you need onto the Sibat in comfortable silence.<</if>> “How quickly can I expect her divine goddess’ patience to run out?” Duma tilts his chin towards the balangay, tone exaggeratedly formal when referring to Tala. You raise an eyebrow and Duma shrugs irreverently. “She’s intent on finding the truth,” you respond. “Especially considering that her family is at the center of all this.” Duma presses his lips together. “I suppose we’ll see how much of it she can tolerate.” [[Continue|2.27]]

Duma watches you, letting you venture into his space. In this light his eyes are a deep green, intent and focused. On you. “Give me a guess and I’ll let you know how close you are.” “Hmm,” you tap your chin thoughtfully. “I’ll be able to get you alone again.” Duma examines the Sibat before turning back to you. “It is a large boat, isn’t it?” Your smile grows and Duma’s lips curve with a hint of satisfaction. “Any others?” “It would be nice to meet at Bulul again,” you consider. It already seems so long ago since you left, with everything you’ve encountered since then. <<if $helpduma is true>> “I did visit the hot springs,” Duma says, expression still coolly satisfied. He seems to enjoy making you read between the lines. “I have plenty new reasons to return to Bulul.” “Good to know,” your stomach flips a little at the possibilities of what he could mean.<</if>> “Your parents stayed at the House of Bathala, then?” You let him change the subject, though you’re still riding the pleasure of his notice. “As far as I know. Mayari mentioned needing to speak with them.” “She trusts them?” “Process of elimination due to their neutrality in the war.” “I was wondering if she would involve Apolaki. Apparently not.” “She hasn’t ruled out that he’s already involved. And it doesn’t sound like you have either.” “I don’t know nearly enough,” Duma considers, gaze resting up and to the side. Whatever theories he's considering, he's not ready to share. “What did you find, anyway?” you redirect, referring to when you first found him underwater. “Just enough to take another step forward,” Duma says, reticent. He hoists his things over his uninjured shoulder. “How quickly can I expect her divine goddess’ patience to run out?” Duma tilts his chin towards the balangay, tone exaggeratedly formal when referring to Tala. You raise an eyebrow and Duma shrugs irreverently. “She’s intent on finding the truth,” you respond. “Especially considering that her family is at the center of all this.” Duma presses his lips together. “I suppose we’ll see how much of it she can tolerate.” [[Continue|2.27]]

Duma doesn’t shy from your attention; rather, he returns it. In this light his eyes are a deep green, intent and focused. On you. The moment between you seems to stretch as you take each other in. Duma is so perceptive, observant. You wonder what he’s thinking as he looks at you. “It’s good to see you safe,” Duma says eventually. “I can take care of myself,” <<if $blue gt $purple and $blue gt $red>>you say reassuringly.<</if>><<if $purple gt $blue and $purple gt $red>>you say playfully.<</if>><<if $red gt $blue and $red gt $purple>>you say confidently.<</if>> “Fortunately I realized it was you earlier.” <<if $fighter gt $diplomat>>“I saw your $mcweapon. Can you actually handle it?” Duma challenges with a raised brow. “You’ll find out soon enough,” you say with a smirk, displaying bravado for both of your sakes.<<else>>“I would’ve helped you with the arrow wound, you know,” you admit after a second, keeping your eyes on his reaction. “Ah,” Duma’s naturally stern expression eases, though he still regards you with the same level of intensity. “Thank you. I’ll take you up on that next time.”<</if>> “What did you find, anyway?” you ask, referring to when you first found him underwater. “Just enough to take another step forward,” Duma says, reticent. He hoists his things over his uninjured shoulder. “How quickly can I expect her divine goddess’ patience to run out?” Duma tilts his chin towards the balangay, tone exaggeratedly formal when referring to Tala. You raise an eyebrow and Duma shrugs irreverently. “She’s intent on finding the truth,” you respond. “Especially considering that her family is at the center of all this.” Duma presses his lips together. “I suppose we’ll see how much of it she can tolerate.” [[Continue|2.27]]

@@.heading1;MOROPORO@@ @@.footnote;[mo-ro-PO-ro]@@ @@.legend1;Moroporo’s majesty is as incomparable as Bathala’s might; there is no method to measure them aside from each other@@ @@.footnote;- a priestess’ vision@@ Moroporo is an archipelago of islands in Kaluwalhatian, visible to the mortals on earth as a cluster of stars. From afar its limestone cliffs look like arrowheads protruding from the clear water. Its beaches are a pristine white, making way for hidden coves and dense jungles. As Bathala’s first creation in Kaluwalhatian, Moroporo is a jewel that represents his limitless capabilities. On Moroporo’s main island lies the House of Bathala, where the ruling family resides. The House of Bathala is an expansive building, more of a multi-level palace than simply a dwelling. Moroporo’s beauty was untouched by the War of the Divine—an implicit agreement between both Mayari and Apolaki to preserve their father’s creation. It remains a symbol of their fragile truce as they live together under the same roof, overseeing separate aspects of Moroporo’s maintenance. <<back "Return">>

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“I’m not that much older than you, you know,” Tala says, somewhat amused. “I’ve never lived through the moon being stolen either. “I do have advice on not getting seasick though, now that I think about it. You’re not prone to that, are you?” “No, though I probably could’ve saved my parents my rebellious streak if I was.” “That I’ll definitely have to hear more about,” Tala smirks, mischief lighting up her eyes. [[Continue|2.16]]

<<if $proactive gt $reactive>>“Just as well as you wear being wrangled into a voyage you can’t refuse,” Tala’s silver eyes flicker away from yours to look you up and down. Your smile grows and your back straightens, ready with a volley. “I did dress for an audience with Bathala’s daughters today.” “I hope you have more than silks and finery in your pack for this trip,” Tala says with a short laugh. You can’t help but share in her laughter, chest loosening just a little bit with the satisfaction that you were the cause. “What more could I need that you didn’t already consider?” you say, tilting your chin towards the map on her waist. “I never would’ve thought to combine our gifts like that. It was brilliant.” She takes a seat next to you on the bench, the curve of her hip just close enough to touch you. “No one told me that the ?deity of lost things was such a sweet talker.” “Lots more to find out about each other on this adventure, hmm?” You lean against her just enough so that your sides brush against each other. From here you note how her tattoo travels up the column of her neck and the center of her chin. Her full lips are two-toned, her upper lip darker than her lower one. How charming. “You seem like someone that needs to be kept on their toes.” Tala smiles at you, mischief and the hint of a challenge dancing in her silver eyes. “Try to hold my attention and find out.”<</if>><<if $proactive lt $reactive>>Tala carries herself confidently, seemingly unshakeable like her other siblings though it manifests uniquely in her through bright playfulness. It’s a distractingly comforting attitude and you can see how novice and expert seafarers alike have trusted her for generations. Tala catches you observing her and sends you a cheeky smile, one that makes you aware of the rising heat in your cheeks despite the tropical humidity that blankets you. “Struck speechless by my beauty already? Or was it my brilliance?” You swallow, buying yourself time for an answer. Tala is rather unabashed—not at all contained by subtlety. “Surely the goddess of the stars doesn’t need to fish for compliments?” Tala lets out a short laugh at that. She takes a seat next to you on the bench, the curve of her hip just close enough to touch you. “She doesn’t; not when she sees it in your eyes and your blush.” You allow her proximity, so aware of the hint of her warmth through the layers of fabric between you. From here you note how her tattoo travels up the column of her neck and the center of her chin. Her full lips are two-toned, her upper lip darker than her lower one. How charming. “What else do you see?” Her boldness draws out a bit of your own. Her eyes leave yours to glide over the rest of you. When she meets your gaze again her silver eyes dance with mischief and the hint of a challenge. “Try to hold my attention and find out.”<</if>> [[Continue|2.16]]

<<if $blue gt $purple and $blue gt $red>>“That’s really kind of you to say,” Tala gives you a small smile back and you think you see her shoulders loosen just a little bit. “Mind repeating that in front of everyone else sometime?” “I’ll say it as long as it’s true.” “That’s rather refreshing. I just might enjoy having to share my boat with you then.”<</if>><<if $purple gt $blue and $purple gt $red>>“I’m glad you didn’t make it, because you would’ve felt ridiculous when I didn’t laugh,” her tone is playful, supported by her mirthful smile. “That sounds like a challenge, goddess of the stars,” you mirror her energy. “I’ll make sure to sharpen my wit around you.” “Good, I’ve no use for dull traveling companions.”<</if>><<if $red gt $blue and $red gt $purple>> “Don’t thank me yet—I have a feeling you’re about to make up that day off soon,” Tala responds with an almost challenging smile. “Holding me accountable for something of which I wasn’t even aware? *Now* you sound like a ruler’s daughter,” your tone doesn’t quite allude to a joke but Tala’s smile grows nonetheless, not seeming to take it personally at all.<</if>> “What’s the longest span of of time you’ve lived on a boat?” Tala asks you. “I’m guessing the right answer is ‘not as long as you?’” Tala laughs, a bright sound that pushes wind against the balangay’s sails. “Well, of course.” “I usually find somewhere to sleep on land,” you admit. “Trust me, sleeping on the Sibat will be preferable to a random tree,” she reassures you. Sleeping arrangements are a small concern in the grand scheme of things, but you feel more confident all the same. [[Continue|2.16]]

@@.heading1;The aswang@@ @@.footnote;[as-WANG]@@ The aswang are shapeshifters that can take on the features of both animals and humans. They fester in Kasamaan, driven by their hunger to pursue human flesh and blood on earth. They’re intelligent enough to blend with their environment until it’s time to strike, often massacring a dozen or more at a time. With proboscis tongues and multiple rows of jagged teeth, they can tear through their prey easily. The only reprieve from the aswang is the sunset, when they must return to Kasamaan. @@.legend1;The aswang’s reach begins where your parents’ sight ends@@ @@.footnote;- a warning for young children <<back "Return">>

Just like you did at the House of Bathala, Tala grasps the map and Duma lays his hands on top of hers. They seem antsy about standing so close, both of them resolutely looking away instead of meeting each other’s eyes. When they’re ready, you pray. “Dumakulem, give me swiftness to pursue. Tala, show me the way.” Nothing happens for a beat. But then the scroll glows, wisps of earthy greens and browns and bright silvery sparks rising from its surface. You watch Tala and Duma, both of their eyes closed though you can guess what they see in the back of their minds. After a while they come back to themselves. <<if $ot3pts gte 1>>Tala blinks to find Duma watching her intently and this time they hold each other’s gaze. Duma seems to remember that he’s still holding onto Tala’s hands, fingers wrapping easily around her wrists. He clears his throat before dropping them and stepping back a little.<<else>>Duma opens his eyes first, looking down immediately at the map as he steps back and lets go of Tala’s hands. Tala blinks her eyes open, worrying a corner of her lip as she examines the scroll.<</if>> You lean in curiously, gasping a little when you see a new beacon in addition to the one that guided you yesterday. Instead of shining gold, this one is a murky red. It’s even farther from your current location than the previous one was, though it’s still bringing your attention to a seemingly innocuous point over the ocean. Duma kisses his teeth, looking puzzled. “I know where that is,” Tala provides gravely. “The Mabaon Trenches.” [[End chapter|Ending screen]] @@.footnote;NOTE: Make sure to save on this page so that you can continue your progress in the next update!@@

Tala bows indulgently at your praise, seeming to shine a little brighter. The balangay continues at the rapid clip that Tala set even when she steps away from her drum. She keeps it uncovered and you can see the phantom vibrations of the drumhead driving the sailboat as she stands adjacent to you and leans on the side of the boat. There’s a content smile on her face as she looks towards the horizon and taps a rhythm on her thighs. You point your lips towards the drum. “How does the balangay work? Did you make it?” “I did make it,” Tala turns toward you with pride. “Well. Not all of it. But I was one of the shipbuilders from the beginning to the end. I picked the type of wood, carved down the trees, and put it all together.” <<if $talapoints gte 2>>She glances away, looking thoughtful as she runs a hand across the wood of the boat. “My father helped me. Along with my gifts, he wanted me to have my own vessel. It was something that was just between us two.” You bite your lip. Bathala’s mysterious absence since before the war is a touchy subject that not even Apolaki is bold enough to broach. Thankfully, Tala spares you from having to find a suitable response.<<else>>You cast your glance around the boat once again. You think you’re starting to understand the root of her pride.<</if>> “The Sibat can sail like any other balangay, but in order for it to reach its top speed like this, I have to be the one at the helm.” “Does it tire you? To keep it going like this?” “It used to,” Tala admits. “When I was first getting accustomed to it. But now it feels like a natural extension of me. Something I can manage even in my sleep. By the end of this, you might be able to say the same about your gift.” “You think so?” Tala nods. “You’ll probably have to learn to tune it out, if anything.” The thought of strengthening your ability to find things is exciting. <<if $srpoints lte 0>>It would allow you to have a broader reach in terms of who you can help, which would increase the mortals’ veneration towards you and strengthen your gifts even further.<<else>>If nothing else, that can be something to take away from this whole experience.<</if>> [[Continue|2.18]]

Tala chuckles and rolls her eyes. “So demanding for someone that just stood there and did nothing.” The balangay continues at the rapid clip that Tala set even when she steps away from her drum. She keeps it uncovered and you can see the phantom vibrations of the drumhead driving the sailboat as she stands adjacent to you and leans on the side of the boat. There’s a content smile on her face as she looks towards the horizon and taps a rhythm on her thighs. You point your lips towards the drum. “How does the balangay work? Did you make it?” “I did make it,” Tala turns toward you with pride. “Well. Not all of it. But I was one of the shipbuilders from the beginning to the end. I picked the type of wood, carved down the trees, and put it all together.” <<if $talapoints gte 2>>She glances away, looking thoughtful as she runs a hand across the wood of the boat. “My father helped me. Along with my gifts, he wanted me to have my own vessel. It was something that was just between us two.” You bite your lip. Bathala’s mysterious absence since before the war is a touchy subject that not even Apolaki is bold enough to broach. Thankfully, Tala spares you from having to find a suitable response.<<else>>You cast your glance around the boat once again. You think you’re starting to understand the root of her pride.<</if>> “The Sibat can sail like any other balangay, but in order for it to reach its top speed like this, I have to be the one at the helm.” “Does it tire you? To keep it going like this?” “It used to,” Tala admits. “When I was first getting accustomed to it. But now it feels like a natural extension of me. Something I can manage even in my sleep. By the end of this, you might be able to say the same about your gift.” “You think so?” Tala nods. “You’ll probably have to learn to tune it out, if anything.” The thought of strengthening your ability to find things is exciting. <<if $srpoints lte 0>>It would allow you to have a broader reach in terms of who you can help, which would increase the mortals’ veneration towards you and strengthen your gifts even further.<<else>>If nothing else, that can be something to take away from this whole experience.<</if>> [[Continue|2.18]]

“I like to think so too,” Tala says with self-satisfaction. The balangay continues at the rapid clip that Tala set even when she steps away from her drum. She keeps it uncovered and you can see the phantom vibrations of the drumhead driving the sailboat as she stands adjacent to you and leans on the side of the boat. There’s a content smile on her face as she looks towards the horizon and taps a rhythm on her thighs. You point your lips towards the drum. “How does the balangay work? Did you make it?” “I did make it,” Tala turns toward you with pride. “Well. Not all of it. But I was one of the shipbuilders from the beginning to the end. I picked the type of wood, carved down the trees, and put it all together.” <<if $talapoints gte 2>>She glances away, looking thoughtful as she runs a hand across the wood of the boat. “My father helped me. Along with my gifts, he wanted me to have my own vessel. It was something that was just between us two.” You bite your lip. Bathala’s mysterious absence since before the war is a touchy subject that not even Apolaki is bold enough to broach. Thankfully, Tala spares you from having to find a suitable response.<<else>>You cast your glance around the boat once again. You think you’re starting to understand the root of her pride.<</if>> “The Sibat can sail like any other balangay, but in order for it to reach its top speed like this, I have to be the one at the helm.” “Does it tire you? To keep it going like this?” “It used to,” Tala admits. “When I was first getting accustomed to it. But now it feels like a natural extension of me. Something I can manage even in my sleep. By the end of this, you might be able to say the same about your gift.” “You think so?” Tala nods. “You’ll probably have to learn to tune it out, if anything.” The thought of strengthening your ability to find things is exciting. <<if $srpoints lte 0>>It would allow you to have a broader reach in terms of who you can help, which would increase the mortals’ veneration towards you and strengthen your gifts even further.<<else>>If nothing else, that can be something to take away from this whole experience.<</if>> [[Continue|2.18]]

“You’ll get used to it,” she says, not looking at all as if she’ll aid your acclimation. The balangay continues at the rapid clip that Tala set even when she steps away from her drum. She keeps it uncovered and you can see the phantom vibrations of the drumhead driving the sailboat as she stands adjacent to you and leans on the side of the boat. There’s a content smile on her face as she looks towards the horizon and taps a rhythm on her thighs. You point your lips towards the drum. “How does the balangay work? Did you make it?” “I did make it,” Tala turns toward you with pride. “Well. Not all of it. But I was one of the shipbuilders from the beginning to the end. I picked the type of wood, carved down the trees, and put it all together.” <<if $talapoints gte 2>>She glances away, looking thoughtful as she runs a hand across the wood of the boat. “My father helped me. Along with my gifts, he wanted me to have my own vessel. It was something that was just between us two.” You bite your lip. Bathala’s mysterious absence since before the war is a touchy subject that not even Apolaki is bold enough to broach. Thankfully, Tala spares you from having to find a suitable response.<<else>>You cast your glance around the boat once again. You think you’re starting to understand the root of her pride.<</if>> “The Sibat can sail like any other balangay, but in order for it to reach its top speed like this, I have to be the one at the helm.” “Does it tire you? To keep it going like this?” “It used to,” Tala admits. “When I was first getting accustomed to it. But now it feels like a natural extension of me. Something I can manage even in my sleep. By the end of this, you might be able to say the same about your gift.” “You think so?” Tala nods. “You’ll probably have to learn to tune it out, if anything.” The thought of strengthening your ability to find things is exciting. <<if $srpoints lte 0>>It would allow you to have a broader reach in terms of who you can help, which would increase the mortals’ veneration towards you and strengthen your gifts even further.<<else>>If nothing else, that can be something to take away from this whole experience.<</if>> [[Continue|2.18]]

“I’m flattered you think so highly of me, but we’re definitely still in Kaluwalhatian,” she responds. The balangay continues at the rapid clip that Tala set even when she steps away from her drum. She keeps it uncovered and you can see the phantom vibrations of the drumhead driving the sailboat as she stands adjacent to you and leans on the side of the boat. There’s a content smile on her face as she looks towards the horizon and taps a rhythm on her thighs. You point your lips towards the drum. “How does the balangay work? Did you make it?” “I did make it,” Tala turns toward you with pride. “Well. Not all of it. But I was one of the shipbuilders from the beginning to the end. I picked the type of wood, carved down the trees, and put it all together.” <<if $talapoints gte 2>>She glances away, looking thoughtful as she runs a hand across the wood of the boat. “My father helped me. Along with my gifts, he wanted me to have my own vessel. It was something that was just between us two.” You bite your lip. Bathala’s mysterious absence since before the war is a touchy subject that not even Apolaki is bold enough to broach. Thankfully, Tala spares you from having to find a suitable response.<<else>>You cast your glance around the boat once again. You think you’re starting to understand the root of her pride.<</if>> “The Sibat can sail like any other balangay, but in order for it to reach its top speed like this, I have to be the one at the helm.” “Does it tire you? To keep it going like this?” “It used to,” Tala admits. “When I was first getting accustomed to it. But now it feels like a natural extension of me. Something I can manage even in my sleep. By the end of this, you might be able to say the same about your gift.” “You think so?” Tala nods. “You’ll probably have to learn to tune it out, if anything.” The thought of strengthening your ability to find things is exciting. <<if $srpoints lte 0>>It would allow you to have a broader reach in terms of who you can help, which would increase the mortals’ veneration towards you and strengthen your gifts even further.<<else>>If nothing else, that can be something to take away from this whole experience.<</if>> [[Continue|2.18]]

“There will be plenty of opportunities to test your limits on this journey, I’m sure,” she responds. The balangay continues at the rapid clip that Tala set even when she steps away from her drum. She keeps it uncovered and you can see the phantom vibrations of the drumhead driving the sailboat as she stands adjacent to you and leans on the side of the boat. There’s a content smile on her face as she looks towards the horizon and taps a rhythm on her thighs. You point your lips towards the drum. “How does the balangay work? Did you make it?” “I did make it,” Tala turns toward you with pride. “Well. Not all of it. But I was one of the shipbuilders from the beginning to the end. I picked the type of wood, carved down the trees, and put it all together.” <<if $talapoints gte 2>>She glances away, looking thoughtful as she runs a hand across the wood of the boat. “My father helped me. Along with my gifts, he wanted me to have my own vessel. It was something that was just between us two.” You bite your lip. Bathala’s mysterious absence since before the war is a touchy subject that not even Apolaki is bold enough to broach. Thankfully, Tala spares you from having to find a suitable response.<<else>>You cast your glance around the boat once again. You think you’re starting to understand the root of her pride.<</if>> “The Sibat can sail like any other balangay, but in order for it to reach its top speed like this, I have to be the one at the helm.” “Does it tire you? To keep it going like this?” “It used to,” Tala admits. “When I was first getting accustomed to it. But now it feels like a natural extension of me. Something I can manage even in my sleep. By the end of this, you might be able to say the same about your gift.” “You think so?” Tala nods. “You’ll probably have to learn to tune it out, if anything.” The thought of strengthening your ability to find things is exciting. <<if $srpoints lte 0>>It would allow you to have a broader reach in terms of who you can help, which would increase the mortals’ veneration towards you and strengthen your gifts even further.<<else>>If nothing else, that can be something to take away from this whole experience.<</if>> [[Continue|2.18]]

Duma watches you, letting you venture into his space. In this light his eyes are a deep green, intent and focused. On you. “Give me a guess and I’ll let you know how close you are.” “Hmm,” you tap your chin thoughtfully. “I’ll be able to get you alone again.” Duma examines the Sibat before turning back to you. “It is a large boat, isn’t it?” Your smile grows and Duma’s lips curve with a hint of satisfaction. “Any others?” “It would be nice to meet at Bulul again,” you consider. It already seems so long ago since you left, with everything you’ve encountered since then. <<if $helpduma is true>> “I did visit the hot springs,” Duma says, expression still coolly satisfied. He seems to enjoy making you read between the lines. “I have plenty new reasons to return to Bulul.” “Good to know,” your stomach flips a little at the possibilities of what he could mean.<</if>> “Your parents stayed at the House of Bathala, then?” You let him change the subject, though you’re still riding the pleasure of his notice. “As far as I know. Mayari mentioned needing to speak with them.” “She trusts them?” “Process of elimination due to their neutrality in the war.” “I was wondering if she would involve Apolaki. Apparently not.” “She hasn’t ruled out that he’s already involved. And it doesn’t sound like you have either.” “I don’t know nearly enough,” Duma considers, gaze resting up and to the side. Whatever theories he's considering, he's not ready to share. “What did you find, anyway?” you redirect, referring to when you first found him underwater. “Just enough to take another step forward. I’ll tell you and her divine goddess at the same time,” Duma says, reticent. He hoists his things over his uninjured shoulder. “Let’s go.” [[Continue|2.27]]

Duma doesn’t shy from your attention; rather, he returns it. In this light his eyes are a deep green, intent and focused. On you. The moment between you seems to stretch as you take each other in. Duma is so perceptive, observant. You wonder what he’s thinking as he looks at you. “It’s good to see you safe,” Duma says eventually. “I can take care of myself,” <<if $blue gt $purple and $blue gt $red>>you say reassuringly.<</if>><<if $purple gt $blue and $purple gt $red>>you say playfully.<</if>><<if $red gt $blue and $red gt $purple>>you say confidently.<</if>> “Fortunately I realized it was you earlier.” <<if $fighter gt $diplomat>>“I saw your $mcweapon. Can you actually handle it?” Duma challenges with a raised brow. “You’ll find out soon enough,” you say with a smirk, displaying bravado for both of your sakes.<<else>>“I would’ve helped you with the arrow wound, you know,” you admit after a second, keeping your eyes on his reaction. “Ah,” Duma’s naturally stern expression eases, though he still regards you with the same level of intensity. “Thank you. I’ll take you up on that next time.”<</if>> “What did you find, anyway?” you ask, referring to when you first found him underwater. “Just enough to take another step forward. I’ll tell you and her divine goddess at the same time,” Duma says, reticent. He hoists his things over his uninjured shoulder. “Let’s go.” [[Continue|2.27]]