“GIMO!”
The man froze. His Balisong, inches away from Hiraya’s throat, trembled but stopped.
Hiraya scrambled backward, her breathing shallow as she forced her grimoire to flare with protective light. Beside her, Sugat tried to summon his strength. He reached for the darkness in his veins, wanting to unleash the red glow of his bloodlust to protect her, but his hands only shook. No shadow emerged. No power answered. He was empty, his body finally buckling under the weight of exhaustion and thirst.
A cane tapped against the cracked earth—a slow, rhythmic thud-clack.
From behind a collapsing lattice fence, an old woman emerged. She wore tattered, mud-stained rags, and her face was concealed by a heavy wooden mask carved with dozens of weeping eyes. Her aura was calm, yet Hiraya felt a cold dread crawling up her spine.
“Gimo. Do not frighten our guests,” the woman said softly.
Gimo lowered his blade and stood perfectly still, though his bloodshot eyes never left the duo.
The old woman approached them slowly. Hiraya’s eyes slanted, her grip tightening on her glowing book.
“We are just travelers passing through,” Sugat managed to say, his voice cracking. He looked between the old woman and the silent Gimo. “We were just looking for food. We’ll leave now.”
The woman lifted her mask only halfway, revealing pale, weathered lips curved into a smile that felt... too warm.
“Gimo, put away your blade. You are scaring the children,” she said, removing the mask entirely to reveal a face lined with deep wrinkles and weary eyes. “I am Apo Mina, the head of this village.”
As she spoke, Hiraya looked past her. Behind Apo Mina, masks lined every visible wall of the surrounding huts. Dozens. Hundreds. Some were ancient wood; others were painted porcelain.
“I can smell hunger louder than fear in both of you,” Apo Mina said, her voice gentle but worn by fatigue. “Come. I have a meal waiting.”
The suspicion in Sugat’s eyes vanished at the mention of food. “Really? You’re... you’re inviting us to eat?”
“Sugat, wait—” Hiraya started, her book still hovering, but she didn't have time to protest.
A heavy thump echoed in Sugat’s chest. His face turned ashen, drenched in a sudden cold sweat, and he nearly collapsed. Hiraya rushed to catch him, her own strength flagging. She looked at Gimo, who was already retreating into the shadows of a nearby hut.
“Don’t worry about Gimo,” Apo Mina said. “He is our guard. He simply takes his job too seriously.”
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With no other choice and Sugat barely able to walk, Hiraya followed the old woman toward a large, crumbling house. As they walked, Apo Mina glanced down. She stared at the spot where Sugat’s shadow should have been. For a full minute, her gaze lingered on the empty ground before she turned back and continued walking. Hiraya noticed, but she was too tired to care.
Inside, the house was a wreck. A large hole gaped in the roof, and the furniture was covered in dust. Apo Mina lit a small lantern in the center of a long wooden table.
“Sorry about the mess,” she said, offering them chairs. “This is what happens when a kingdom leaves a place to rot. This village used to be prosperous, but once the King’s light turned away, the livelihood disappeared with it.”
“Is that why it’s so empty?” Hiraya asked, her eyes scanning the dark corners of the room.
“Yes. We have nowhere else to go. My family and I simply... endure.”
A man entered from a side door. He wore a tattered white suit that might have been elegant decades ago. His brown hair was matted into dreadlocks, and he wore a wooden mask with three eyes and exaggerated ears. He is Cain, son in law of Apo mina.
“Masks here are not tradition,” Cain said, his voice echoing behind the wood. “They are survival.”
Hiraya and Sugat jolted, but Apo Mina remained calm, her hands clasped under her chin. “The Kingdom hunts truth before it hunts people,” she added with a voice full of remorse. “They steal faces when they want to steal stories.”
Hiraya slammed her hand on the table, her eyes wide. “You... you know the Kingdom is lying?”
“Exactly why this place was emptied of its people,” Cain replied, sitting across from them.
The tension was broken by a soft voice. A beautiful woman named Mary the daughter of Apo Mina entered, carrying two steaming dishes. The smell hit Sugat like a physical wave.
“I always have fun when we have guests,” Cain said, digging into his food.
They ate with a desperate hunger. Sugat ate loudly, his face lighting up with joy. For a moment, he looked like a normal boy again. But as Mary leaned over to pour water into his cup, she froze. She looked at the floor beneath Sugat’s chair.
“Am I wrong... or do you simply not have a shadow?” Mary asked.
Sugat began to choke on his food, drinking his water rapidly to hide his panic. Hiraya tensed, waiting for the rejection, the fear, the screaming. But Mary only smiled sadly and offered Sugat more food. Her hand trembled slightly as she handed him the plate.
“So,” Apo Mina asked, her eyes sharp behind the lantern light. “What is your story? How did a shadowless boy and a witch find themselves in the graveyard of the world?”
Sugat looked down, unable to speak. “We are just travelers,” Hiraya replied firmly. “Finding our way outside the cities.”
Apo Mina leaned back. “A witch, indeed. I saw your grimoire flicker outside. You are not obligated to speak... I respect those who keep their secrets.”
The meal ended in a strange, heavy silence. Mary and Cain stood up, waving goodbye as they prepared to head to their own home. Apo Mina stood to clear the plates, but as she turned, a small object fell from her tattered pocket.
It hit the wooden floor with a sharp clink.
Sugat was busy waving goodbye to the couple, but Hiraya’s eyes were drawn to the object. It was a jagged piece of glass, reflecting the dim lantern light.
Hiraya knelt to pick it up. The moment her skin touched the cold glass, the world vanished.
A vivid, terrifying vision exploded in her mind. Her breath hitched, her eyes turning stark white as she was pulled into a memory that wasn't hers. She saw a village—perhaps this very one—consumed by roaring orange flames. Bodies were scattered in the mud. Shadows, dark and twisted, circled the screaming villagers like vultures.
Then, she saw them. A group of silhouetted figures, standing in the center of the carnage, chanting in a language that made her soul bleed. One of them turned, and the image of a breaking glass mirror filled her sight.
Hiraya let out a scream so loud it felt as if her lungs would tear.
“HIRAYA!” Sugat yelled, spinning around just in time to see her collapse to the floor, her body convulsing as the jagged glass shard glowed in her hand.
END OF CHAPTER 12
Glossary:
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Apo: A Filipino term of respect for an elder or grandmother.