"Lady Samika!"

A young diwata in light blue formal robes came running towards Samika, the daughter of Luminara's most noble engkantado general and the niece of the king. She frantically stormed into her chambers.

Standing near the window, where the breeze lightly blows her light brown hair, Samika closed the book she was reading and waited for the young diwata to catch her breath to ask her the reason for interrupting her only day off.

"What is it, Dao?"

"I apologize for interrupting your reading, but the majesties and your father requested your presence immediately."

It has been centuries since the great council was this agitated over something. Based on how urgent the matter is, Samika had no time to change her clothing. She appeared before the gathering, wearing an ombre off-shoulder dress that covered all the way to her feet. In the eyes of the elderly, it could be equal to showing up naked, but they never cared—which made her conclude that whatever brought everyone to the council room could be extremely alarming or life-threatening.

Samika stood beside her father, who always had a serious look on his face. His gray eyes looked exhausted, and his jawline looked tensed. She shifted her focus to every individual present in the room at this untimely hour. Guardians from all portals of the realm were present. The kingdom's most respected scribe and their respective animals, who only appear on the rarest occasions, were also present. Every single one of them shared the same look of anxiety and confusion on their faces.

She looked for her aunt, the Queen. She expected her to maintain her resolve as she always has during times of disaster, but her eyes bore something that Samika had never seen before—true fear. The Queen was standing beside her husband, talking to a certain messenger.

Overwhelmed by confusion, Samika muttered, "What in Bathala's name is going on, Ama?"

"The guardian has awakened," her father replied in a low, almost whispering voice.

"What do you mean? I don't understand."

"Remember what your Ina used to tell you about the great Intumbangel? Do you remember how proud she is to be one of the singers to lull the beast to sleep?"

Samika smiled sadly and said, "Of course."

When she was still a youngling, her mother used to tell her stories about the beast that sleeps beneath the earth, and as long as the beast remained in his tranquil state, the world was considered at peace. Sometimes, mortals could be a little reckless with their actions, which causes disturbance to the Intumbangel. When disturbed during its slumber, its body sluggishly moves. Its minimal movements can create terrible earthquakes and sometimes trigger tsunamis. Its sigh can make volcanoes erupt. Her reminiscence towards her mother's story was cut short when her father spoke, in a stern yet somehow shaky voice.

"It's finally awake, Samika."

Her eyes widened in shock. "What? How? It has been centuries, Ama."

"That we are yet to find out."

A heated discussion sparked between one engkanto and another. Sharing their opinions and possible solutions to handle the matter. As time passed, us Engkantos adapted to the Diwata's benevolent nature. We have been pacifists for a long time, even limiting an Engkanto to three usog per year, but this kind of event made them forget the values of sparing a life.

"If slaughtering is the answer, then we have no choice."

"We can just leave this matter to whoever is responsible."

"Let the mortals die!"

Those were just a few phrases that Samika heard in the panicking crowd. Finally, the King and Queen are seated on their thrones. The flowers beneath the queen's feet that were used to adorn her throne were withering, which means that she was extremely troubled. When the king noticed, he squeezed her hand and gave her a reassuring look.

They were about to start the discussion when the huge wooden doors slammed open, revealing three people in white cloaks. They stood before the crowd with their heads bowed and covered by their white hoods, walking through the assemblage in complete silence, and finally stood before the seated majesties.

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"Our King," they said in perfect unison. Their voices sounded eerie.

"We are the Elderly Guardians of Anar, protectors of the Great Prophecy of Dalikamata."

Everyone gasped loudly.

For a split second, the king hesitated, but for the sake of everyone present, he waved his hand in consent. "Please, Elderly Guardians of Anar, kindly read the prophecy for us."

They uncovered their cloaks and revealed themselves. They were all blind—their eye sockets were completely hollow. All three have the same platinum-blond hair, and their skin is as white as mortal paper; they are what we call Anak Araw, or Children of the Sun. They don't look old, like the legends say. What makes them appear more horrifying is the fact that their mouths were sealed shut, but somehow, they speak clearly.

The Elderly Guardians created a humming sound that sounded like a soft yet sinister groan, and then the middle one spoke, "Gigising ang bantay ng mundo."

(The guardian of the world will awaken.)

The one on the left took a turn and said, "Dahil sa kasakiman ng tao." (because of the greed of men).

The one on the right spoke, "Ang pitong bayani ni Bathala ay tawagin" (the seven heroes of Bathala shall be called).

"—bago mababalot ang mundo ng dilim," they said in unison.

(Before darkness engulfs the world.)

They bowed before the king and queen before evaporating into white smoke that smelled of sampaguita flowers. The crowd gasped, followed by a complete silence. Samika can't blame them; it has been a thousand years since they have seen something that interesting.

The Elderly Guardians of Anar were said to be a myth until they proved their existence just now. Some books say that they are the phantoms of time, symbolizing the past, present, and future. But Samika doubts that they can foresee anything in the future; they are just mere keepers of prophecies. Still, she was amazed. It was her first time seeing the Children of the Sun, and they looked majestic, even ethereal.

Based on the books she read, their lips were stitched by Dalikamata herself, a clairvoyant goddess. She is said to have thousands of eyes all over her body, each one possessing the ability to see far and wide and see everything that was, is, and will be. Their sealed lips prevent them from reciting the prophecy to the wrong people, the kind who seeks prophecies to gain advantage and use them to destroy their enemies. It was said that the people who are involved in the prophecy are the only ones who are able to hear it behind their sealed lips, while the others can only hear them humming an ominous sound.

Samika looked up to his father and asked, "Ama, what do they mean about the seven heroes of Bathala?"

His father shared a nervous look with his uncle, the King. His majesty moved closer to Samika, which automatically made Samika's father place his hand on his brother's chest to stop him.

"No," he said firmly.

"Brother, Ananmayka. She heard the prophecy."

Ananmayka punched his brother in the face, causing the King to stumble a few meters away from them. The crowd gasped in shock. Armed engkantados swiftly moved in, restraining their general as the tension threatened to escalate further.

"You can't just send my daughter away, just because you are King!"He screamed angrily; his face contorted with rage as he pointed furiously at the king.

"It is her destiny, Ananmayka!" The King reasoned, wincing as he tried to stand up straight.

"You sent my wife to her demise," the man roared with pure loathe. "I am not going to lose my daughter too."

Ananmayka left the council hall with no further argument or violence, dragging Samika along with him.

As they hurriedly ran away from the chaotic crowd, Samika repeatedly begged her father to release her. They were already halfway down the great hallway when he let her hand go. He did not even try to catch his own breath. He punched his brother and ran while dragging his daughter without breaking a single sweat, as if it were effortless. Samika, on the other hand, was panting profusely, grasping her chest, and gasping for air.

"Why. Why do you have to do that??!," she asked, stuttering.

Her father grabbed her by the shoulders and said, "Listen, Nak. I already lost your mother; I don't want to lose you too. Your mother made me promise to train you to be the best, but in a way that I won't let you charge to your own death."

Ananmayka hugged his daughter tightly, which shook her to the very core of her soul. Her father, a strong man with sheer will and wisdom, a man who is capable of bringing an army down with just a swing of his kampilan, is now crying before her. An Engkantado warrior is trained to show no emotion in whatever circumstance. Pretty much, a general is expected to be emotionless. Samika even hated him for not shedding a single tear during her mother's memorial ceremony, but now she understands how difficult it is to bottle up emotions.

"Ama, you said it yourself. You trained me to be the best. Now is my time to apply everything you taught me to the real battlefield. I am nothing more than a seeker and a companion of the Seven. I will keep them safe as much as I keep myself safe. I will come back to you, and that is a promise."

Samika placed her forehead against his. A gesture of love towards a family member. For a moment, she caught a glimpse of her father forcing a smile.

"Your mother would have been proud."