That evening, as they sat eating grilled fish and rice, Miguel brought up the stories he'd grown up hearing.
"I've heard tales of Aswang stealing children, drinking blood," he said quietly. "Are any of those true?"
Lola Sabel was quiet for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Some are—but not as you think. Long ago, when a village was cursed with sickness that made children waste away, our Babaylans would take the sickest ones to our village."
"People saw us carrying them away and assumed the worst," Amihan explained. "But we were trying to heal them with our energy cultivation. Sometimes we couldn't save them—and when we buried them in sacred ground, rumors spread that we'd eaten them."
"Others used their abilities for evil," Lola Sabel continued. "There were those who fed on life force not to sustain balance, but to gain power quickly. They became what people now fear—twisted, hungry, lost to the path. We hunted them down and sealed their power away, but the stories stuck."
"Humans fear what they can't explain," Amihan said, placing a hand on Miguel's shoulder. "It's easier to call us monsters than to understand that we are like them—capable of both good and evil."
Miguel nodded, feeling a weight lift from his chest.