"Idianale... Who is that mortal?" Bathala asked, his gaze fixed and unblinking as he watched the reflection of the maiden Selene in the Spring of Wishes.
Idianale stepped closer and lifted her eyes to him. "My Bathala, the maiden before you is named Selene," she said, bowing once more in reverence. Yet his eyes did not waver from the girl. After a moment, she spoke again.
"My Bathala, perhaps I have already told you of the extraordinary strength of this mortal's faith in you. And what astonishes me most is why this maiden bears such an uncanny resemblance to your missing diwata, Mayari..."
Bathala drew a deep breath before speaking. "What is her wish?"
"It gladdens the heart to say it, for this maiden desires nothing but peace in her life."
At last, Bathala turned his gaze toward Idianale. "Seal my chamber in Kaluwalhatian. Tell Dumangan that none are to enter, and forbid any audience with me... I will go to this maiden."
In shock, Idianale lifted her head. "But, my Bathala! What you intend is dangerous. It may disturb the harmony of heaven... and even the balance of earth!" Overcome with worry, the goddess of Benevolence fell to her knees before him.
"It seems there is something that troubles me. I must know this mortal. Besides, you yourself said..." He paused, looking once more at the Spring. "She looks exactly like Mayari."
"But my Bathala—"
"This is the only thing I can do, for now, to save my daughter... as her father... from eternal destruction."
Idianale bowed her head again. Deep within, she knew he spoke truth. In the end, she could only obey.
"My Bathala, if you truly wish to meet that mortal, tomorrow night I shall prepare the arrow and the poison. Night is the safest hour for your descent, for no anito or diwata is active then. The darkness belongs to Apung Malyari."
The following night, Idianale prepared the arrow, soaking its tip in sacred poison. Beside her stood Dumangan, who would guide them through a hidden passage into the mortal world.
When they arrived, the maiden was still occupied at a gathering with her companions, and so Idianale and Bathala concealed themselves behind drifting clouds. They remained cautious, for the night also belonged to Sitan, the god of Evil. With Mayari missing—the one who should have given light and protection against darkness—Sitan and his followers now wandered freely. They were the wayward gods, feared and forbidden.
"My Bathala, there is the mortal. She walks alone," Idianale whispered.
She raised her bow, steady and precise, and aimed at Selene. A heartbeat passed... then another.
The arrow flew.
It struck the maiden's back without delay. Swift as lightning, Idianale and Bathala descended. Selene fell to her knees and collapsed upon the cold earth. Her vision dimmed, yet her hearing remained.
"Are you certain the poison is effective?"
Her fingers twitched faintly before stillness claimed her.
"Yes, my Bathala." Idianale knelt beside the girl, placing a hand upon her forehead. "The poison has taken hold. She sleeps deeply."
"Bring her to Mount Makulot."
She nodded. In the next instant, they vanished like mist.
***
The maiden opened her eyes. She touched her head and slowly sat up. As awareness returned, she rose and walked toward a spring beside her resting place. She gathered water in her hands to quench her thirst.
But when she looked at her reflection, shock filled her eyes.
"Apung Malyari... Apung Malyari!"
She turned as a messenger hurried toward her, breathless.
"Your beloved, the god Apolaki, has arrived..."
When the maiden lifted her gaze, the world seemed to still. A tall and radiant young man stood before her, clad in golden armor that shimmered like the rising sun. The air itself trembled with his presence, as though the heavens bowed to his power. Yet his eyes—once fierce and unyielding—now carried a storm of emotions long restrained.
"My Mayari..." His voice faltered, the single word breaking like thunder after a long drought. "How do you feel?"
For a moment, neither moved. The silence stretched, heavy and fragile, filled with years of absence and unspoken sorrow.
Mayari stared at him, her breath uneven. Memories surged—light and darkness, betrayal and love, war and loss. Her fingers curled at her sides.
Mayari rose slowly to her feet and approached Apolaki. Each step felt heavy, as though the heavens themselves watched in solemn silence. The air trembled with an unspoken sorrow. Gently, she lifted her hand and touched the face of the god of the Sun. For a fleeting instant, warmth spread through her fingers, tender and real.
But in the same breath, his image began to waver.
The golden light fractured.
His form dissolved like sunlight upon restless water.
Mayari stepped back, dread tightening around her chest as the world faded into pale emptiness.
"No... please. Bring him back. Please—"
"No!"
Selena jolted upright with a sharp gasp. Her breath came in ragged bursts, her heart pounding as though she had fled across mountains and rivers. The dream slipped from her grasp once more, leaving only the familiar ache it always carried—an emptiness she could neither name nor escape.
"You are awake. Here, drink this tea. It carries the fragrance of flowers and will ease the pain in your head," Idianale said softly, offering her a cup.
The maiden drank, the warmth soothing her throat and steadying her breath. Yet as her senses returned, she became aware of her surroundings. The chamber was unlike any she had seen—walls woven with living vines, the soft glow of lamplight flickering like fireflies, and the scent of damp earth mingled with blossoms after rain.
"Who are you? Where am I?" she asked, her voice unsteady.
Idianale smiled faintly. "Do you not recognize me, young lady?"
"You resemble the goddess of Goodness... the one they call—" She stopped, memory striking her. "Idianale!"
At once, Selena composed herself and knelt. The gesture stirred quiet warmth in the goddess's heart.
"How is her wound?" a voice asked.
Selena had begun to lift her head, but Idianale gently lowered it again. Like the maiden, she knelt in reverence.
"My Bathala, by your mercy, the mortal's wound heals swiftly."
Bathala.
The name echoed through Selena's thoughts like a distant bell in a quiet valley.
A faint smile touched Bathala's lips. "It is I. I am pleased to meet you... Selena."
Startled, the maiden bowed even lower. The sudden movement sent a sharp sting through her body, nearly causing her to lose balance.
"Lady Selena, are you well? Forgive us. Because you are mortal, the arrow struck deeper, and your healing is slower."
"Bring her something to eat. The mortal must be hungry. She will need strength for her return," Bathala commanded.
Idianale obeyed at once.
"M-My apologies, my Bathala, but where am I? And why am I here?" Selena asked, her voice trembling like a leaf in the wind.
Bathala sat beside her. She shifted slightly away, lowering her gaze.
"Calm yourself. You are in my Mount Makulot. You are here because I have a favor to ask of you..."
His eyes held hers, steady and searching.
"My Bathala, Lady Selena, here—eat, that your hunger may be eased," Idianale said, offering a woven tray filled with fresh fruits and a coconut shell of cool broth.
The two deities exchanged a silent glance before stepping out of the vine-covered chamber.
Selena ate quickly, unaware that they watched her reflection in the sacred spring.
"It gladdens my heart that the maiden enjoys what you prepared, my Bathala. From what I perceive, this mortal possesses a kind spirit," Idianale said.
When her hunger and thirst were satisfied, Selena followed them. As expected, she found them beside the spring. She bowed once more.
"Come with me, my child," Bathala said.
They walked in silence. When they reached the spring, he stirred the water with a single motion.
An image rose from its depths.
Selena froze.
"W-Who is she?" she whispered.
For the reflecting in the water... was her own.
***
Meanwhile, Mateo sat in his office, the early morning light filtering through capiz-shell windows. Like the day before, he had arrived before anyone else, hoping—though he would never admit it—to see her.
But the morning passed.
She did not come.
Concern tightened in his chest.
He stepped outside. "Erica."
"Yes, Doctor?"
"Has... she not arrived yet?"
"Selena, Doctor? Perhaps she is only delayed," Erica teased, though curiosity shone in her eyes.
The day dragged on.
By five in the afternoon, she still had not appeared.
Worry settled heavily upon him.
A knock sounded.
"Kuyaaaa!" It was Minerva.
"Selena... Kuya?" He uttered hoping it was Selena but in disappointment he answered, "She is not here."
"What?!"
He left at once. She hurried after him.
When Mateo reached Selena's modest home along a narrow street, he knocked.
"W-Who are you?" a boy asked.
"Does Selena Belleza live here?"
The boy's eyes widened with sudden hope.
"Please... find my sister. She has not come home."
Guilt struck him without warning.
Then—
"D-Dr. Mateo?"
They turned.
Selena collapsed before them.
"Selena!"
He rushed forward, catching her before she struck the ground.
Her skin burned with fever.
"What?! You... want me to pretend to be Mayari?!" Selena's voice wavered, disbelief and fear mingling.
"My daughter Mayari has long been missing," Bathala said, kneeling. "I beg you... as a father."
Selena's chest tightened, the weight of destiny pressing down.
"Please... give me time. I... I need time," she whispered, supporting the deities to their feet.
Bathala's eyes softened. "If you agree, I will protect you and your brother. I will save you both."
Promise.
Promise.
Promise.
Selena awoke once more, back in her room, the scent of sampaguita and wet earth lingering. Her brother's worried gaze met hers.
"No one must know," Bathala's warning echoed.
"Because you will surely die."
***
The following morning, Selena arrived early at the clinic, anxiety curling around her like morning fog over the pasilyo streets.
"Selena! What happened?" Erica asked.
"I'm fine," Selena said softly.
"Selena... how are you?" Mateo's voice carried quiet worry.
"I'm fine, Dr. Mateo," she murmured.
"You may go," he added.
Before she could move, Minerva burst in.
"Where did you go?!"
Selena laughed softly, brushing off the panic.
"I'm fine," she said, though her heart still raced.
Mateo's gaze lingered, relief softening his features.
By late afternoon, Selena's shift ended. She waited along a dirt road where a horse-drawn carriage would have been common, one familiar carriage slowed beside her.
"Dr. Mateo!" she exclaimed.
"Hop in."
"The carriage... I can—"
"I'll drive you. I won't leave you to walk alone tonight."
Selena hesitated, then entered, the faintest smile curled on Mateo's lips
"So tell me, how old were you when you met Minerva?" Mateo broke the quiet, his tone gentle yet probing.
"Hmm... twelve years ago. I'm nineteen now, so... I was eight back then," Selena replied. A wistful smile tugged at her lips.
Mateo chuckled softly. "To be honest, I'm grateful you met Minerva. She's changed so much because of you. Having you around through her colegios made it easier for our father and me to manage her rebellious streak."
Selena laughed softly, remembering the small triumphs and tantrums of youth.
"I'm glad you've been a good influence on her," Mateo added, his eyes warm. She nodded, a quiet smile brushing her lips.
"Thank you for the ride, Dr.," she said cheerfully.
"Not a problem," he replied, the faintest smile lingering as he watched her step inside her house. Selena paused at the doorframe, leaning lightly against the wooden jamb, heart still stirred by the care he had shown.
Then her eyes widened. Panic shot through her chest.
"Niknik! Nikooooo! Nik—Niko...?!"
Her younger brother lay sprawled on the bamboo floor, a trickle of blood staining the tiles of their modest colonial home. Selena's hands shook as she knelt beside him, checking his pulse.
"Niko! Niko!" she whispered urgently, lifting him onto her back with trembling arms. Relief flooded her momentarily—Mateo was still outside.
"Dr..." she called breathlessly, stumbling across the courtyard. Mateo's eyes followed her, calm but commanding.
"This way!" he instructed, voice firm.
They brought her brother to the clinic where Mateo examined his condition.
"H-How is my brother?" she asked, with her voice tight.
"Well, overfatigue and iron deficiency are the main issues. Any history of heart failure?" The words struck her like a sudden clap of thunder, but Mateo steadied her immediately.
"Selena!" Minerva's voice pierced the haze of her panic. She ran to her, collapsing into her arms. Tears fell freely, a release of the fear and grief she had carried alone. Minerva rubbed her back gently, offering the comfort she desperately needed.
"Hey... stop. You've been crying for so long," Minerva murmured softly, worry etched in her expression.
"Why... does fate seem to be against me?" Selena whispered, voice breaking.
"Selena! What are you saying—"
"Ever since Mama died... I watched Papa grieve. But when he died, I hid all the pain for Niknik..." Her tears fell again, unchecked.
"Selena... don't be like that," Minerva said, holding her firmly.
"I... I don't know what I'd do if even Niko were taken from me!" she cried, shivering in her embrace.
After a few moments, her resolve returned, spurred by the memory of her conversation with Bathala. She pulled away, eyes glinting with determination.
"I-I know...!" she stammered. "Minerva... I need a favor. Watch over my brother. I have something I must do. Right now... only one can help me."
Minerva frowned. "Huh?"
"I need to go somewhere," she said, leaving abruptly.
"But Selena!"
***
Rain poured from the heavens, lightning splitting the sky as she made her way up the narrow, slippery stone steps of Bathala's shrine. Her wet skirts clung to her legs, hair plastered to her face, yet she ignored the storm. Only one thought burned in her mind: save my brother.
At the Spring of Wishes, Idianale's eyes caught the reflection of the drenched maiden.
"My Bathala! The lady... she is here!" she exclaimed. Bathala lifted his gaze from the clouds, standing tall, observing Selena with the piercing presence of a god.
"O, Almighty! My Bathala! I beg of you! Help me!" Selena cried, rain streaming down her face, mingling with tears. "I will do anything! Just save my brother! My Bathala! Have mercy on a humble mortal like me!"
Time itself seemed to halt. The rain paused mid-air, the night dimly illuminated as if by divine light. Soft footsteps echoed in the courtyard.
"Are you certain of your decision?" Bathala asked, voice both stern and tender. Selena lifted her gaze, meeting his unflinching eyes.
"Yes... my Bathala," she said firmly.
Bathala and Idianale exchanged solemn glances. Idianale nodded, her hands moving with precise grace, signaling the assembly of anitos and diwata. They appeared as if summoned by the very words Selena had spoken, filling the courtyard in silent obedience.
Meanwhile, father and son—Aring Sinukuan and Apolaki—crossed paths in the upper terraces of the heavens. Apolaki bowed, respectful yet tense. Sinukuan remained silent, turning to leave until his father spoke.
"I understand our Bathala arranges an important meeting today. But, you have other important things to do, right?" Sinukuan said. Apolaki clenched his fists but restrained himself.
"I have an important duty in the mortal world. I know I cannot attend," he said firmly.
Sinukuan's lips curved slightly. "Indeed. Which god should attend the meeting... if Apung Malyari is absent? Very well, go."
Apolaki bowed again, heart heavy but resolved.
"Raman!" Sinukuan called to an attendant.
"Bathalang Sinukuan," the attendant replied.
"Follow Apolaki. He has a mission to fulfill."
"Understood, Bathalang Sinukuan."
Idianale moved swiftly among the anitos and diwata, her voice carrying over the throng like a clarion. Soon, all the thrones were filled, whispers spreading through the assembly at the sudden summons—every being present except one.
"Idianale..." Aman Sinaya's voice trembled.
"Goddess Sinaya," she replied.
"Where is our Bathala? Why does he tarry?" Sinaya asked nervously.
"He will arrive soon," Idianale assured her.
Before Sinaya could question further, the doors opened. Bathala entered, and a hush fell across the room.
"My Bathala, forgive the interruption, but what is the purpose of this meeting?" Aring Sinukuan demanded, bold as the only anito daring to speak.
"Apologies for the sudden gathering. But this is one of the most important meetings in our history. A diwata is returning... and she wishes to see you," Bathala said, his voice calm yet laden with authority.
"But my Bathala, all diwata are present." Anagolay, goddess of lost things, whispered.
"Let her enter," Bathala commanded.
The doors opened again. Every eye fell upon her. Even bowed, she radiated majesty. She wore robes of blue that shimmered like moonlight, adorned with silver crescents that caught the lamplight. Behind her, attendants moved in perfect formation, silent as statues.
As she lifted her gaze, awe struck all present.
None other than the goddess of the Moon herself.
"Mayari!"
—every voice cried in unison, reverberating like a celestial chorus across the hall.