Chapter 1: Homecoming

As we neared closer to Sugbu, the sound of crashing waves, the cries of careening gulls, and the briny scent of the sea filled my senses. The town’s sign, which hung above the taguile wood gate and walls, interspaced every few feet with chiseled stone reinforcement. The two guards, dressed in a mixture of the Sugbuian hide and the Moroian chainmail, glanced up at me. One of them I recognized. “By Bathala’s balls, Lobo, is that you?” He grinned, with me returning the gesture. He was Manuel, one of my oldest friends. We clasped forearms, Manuel pulling me into a hug. He was a bit shorter than me, half a head or so, but with a body built like an ox. “Come for a visit? Bit early, ain’t it?” He asked, quirking an eyebrow. I wasn’t surprised. Ordinarily, Stormfang Sect members are only allowed either if they must perform a task, or during the summer months. This would be when we’d do what is known as a Walkabout. We would be sent across the land to channel our gi, meditate, contemplate the various islands’ flora and fauna, and also sharpen our combat skills. Some, like myself, used it to return to our home towns and villages for a spell.

“Well, let’s say I’m here on extended leave. I left.” My grin grew as Manuel’s jaw dropped, as did his comrade’s. “So,” I glanced into what could be seen of the village through the tiny slits in the wooden planks. “Is Gabriela still in town?”

“Hah, of course she is, she’ll be overjoyed to see you.” Manuel clapped my shoulder, lightly shoving me towards the open gates. Gabriella is my fiancee, a lovely Valuan woman, with silky blonde hair, warm skin the color of light bronze, and piercing stormy gray eyes. She’s also a Cultivator, as her mother is. Or well, she had some training, but I don’t think she ever took up the craft formally, excellent fencer to boot

As I entered the port town proper, the sounds of chatter boomed into my ears. Even at the city gates, the furthest from where sailors from both local and abroad loaded and unloaded trade goods, the merchant stalls and food vendors scattered here and there hocked their wares.A few people greeted me with waves and smiles.One thing about we Maniolians, we are quite the friendly people. My feet carried me down the dirt and stone roads towards a certain shop. The weathered sign read Avelino General Emporium. Lolo Agbayani had been paying for it ever since my mother passed away a few years back, Bathala shine radiance over her soul. My father, a scout with the Maniolian Survey Corps, had vanished, alongside several other members of his unit, about ten years ago when I had just turned fourteen. Inside, my fiance was tending to a customer. I opened the door, the chimes that hung above tinkling to alert her to my entrance.

“Welcome to Aveli-Lobo! Kimat!” Gabriela’s eyes shone, as she dropped the cutlery she had been holding, vaulting over the counter, and embracing both myself and Kimat in a deep hug. While she may not possess the fully enhanced strength of a true Initiate, she could still bolster her strength.”I didn’t expect you two till summer!” she grinned, as I picked her up and spun her around.

That was when the customer she had been attending to turned and cleared her throat. Flushed, I set my betrothed down, as we both dusted herself off. I recognized her at once. Kapitan Luzviminda Almeida, retired captain of the 501st Veziyan Legion, one of the best guerilla squads, and an old family friend. Her hair was still cropped relatively short, fully gray now. Her right eye, taken by an Incendiary Hornbill, gazed sightlessly at us. Imagine a fairly large bird, with a drill-like beak. Now imagine it can set itself ablaze and divebomb you. Nasty creatures, luckily they didn’t go too far from their nests. “So, the young wolves come back, eh?.” she smirked, “Maybe now you’ll give her some pups.” she cackled as our faces tinged bright crimson.

“Maybe once we’ve married and uh, settled down, Kapitan.” I saluted. She didn’t care much for the standard way of greeting an elder. She always said she was a soldier first, old lady second. “And well, its more than that. I came to a realization and….I left the Stormfangs.” I said, “I don’t want to become some bloodthirsty warlord, struggling to reach heaven by riding atop a throne of skulls. I just want to use the abilities training and Bathala have endowed me with in service of the community.”

“Lobo, this is great news!” Gabriela embraced me, granting me a chaste peck on the lips. “So, you two have come to help with the shop I presume? It's been awfully lonely without you.” her eyelashes fluttered. Then she remembered she had a customer, and zoomed back to the counter, packaging up the cutlery and whetstone for Kapitan Almeida, handing her the bundle.

“Well, I’ll leave you three be, you don’t need an old inahin like me hanging around.” Kapitan Almeida stowed her purchase in a bag hung over one shoulder. “Gabriela, try to keep your husband out of trouble.” She then made her way to the door, patting Kimat on the head, humming softly. Before she stepped out of the door, she inclined her head towards us, a small impish smile gracing her face. “Oh, I almost forgot. Gabriela dear, try and eat more oranges, or mangos. They’ll make your flower more appealing to your future husband’s taste buds.” she went away laughing, while Gabriela and I currently both wished to die.

“So, what’s for dinner?” Kimat asked, breaking the silence, as he took up a spot by some rolled up rugs.

“Oh right, I should probably get myself reacquainted with the kit-” I set my bag down by the stairway leading up towards the bedrooms above the shop. I was stopped when Gabriella gently, but firmly, placed a hand on my chest.

“No, you are not, Mr. “Can-only-make-rice-and-bistek.” Gabriela smiled, kissing me again, this time deeper, and for longer. “I’ll be cooking tonight, you go get and unpacked.” She said, turning away. She swayed her hips, and I, being the gentleman, resisted staring….for about five seconds. What? My wife is one of the most beautiful and intelligent women I’ve met. Plus it's not like she doesn’t gaze at me whenever I’m meditating or practicing katas.

Meanwhile, while Kimat kept watch over the front door, stretched out, I trudged upstairs to go put my meager possessions into the room I would share with Gabriela when we officially wed come spring. It was fairly modest. Simple bed fit for two, maybe three people, with a thin curtain around it for privacy, and to help keep out flies, mosquitos, and other pests. A small balcony could be accessed through a side door. A chest and a cabinet allowed for some storage. Breathing in the warm familiar scent of the linen and the wood, I put away the things I had taken from my room back in the fortress-monastery, some basic clothes, a kit for cleaning my blade, scrolls containing techniques, some written in Baybayin, the ancient writing system, and some books I had purchased. However, what was most important were several carefully preserved Spirit Herbs. Some I placed under the shade, others I set out in the sun, seven in total. While I didn’t have the green thumb my lovely Gabriela had, with her having helped on her grandfather’s farm, but well, every Initiate at least learned how to cultivate, hah, Spirit Herbs and other flora. It was one of the tasks we had to do, a way to become one with nature or something like that. Luckily they didn’t produce much pollen, that would be murder on my sinuses come spring if they did.

After a while, I slinked downstairs.I had changed into more casual attire. I still kept the black pants I wore as part of my former Initiate uniform, but had replaced my charcoal colored boots for some more comfortable sandals, and my black and gold barong for a looser, short sleeved cotton tunic. Luckily the captain had been our last customer of the day, unless someone swung by after closing hours and badgered us for a late night snack. Thank the gods that rarely happened. Kimat was gone, though his paw prints, laden with gi, so visible to me, led from his resting place towards the kitchen, where the sounds of a pot boiling and bubbling over a fire, and the sound of a knife hitting a wooden board resounded.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

I slid inside, and found my beloved hard at work. The gi she used, though not as potent as other Valuans I had met, was suitable for someone who did not walk the road of a Cultivator. Then again, one saying among the sects Initiates was “To walk the path of a Cultivator is to walk with death.” While she stirred a bowl of what I could now see was bulalo, the tangy beef bone soup was simmering atop the wood burning iron stove. I’d have helped but well, even as someone with relatively more training in gi control, I’ve found that iron is very….temperamental with gi, if you’re lucky, it won’t do anything at all, if not, then well, it could explode in a mass of hot energy and heated metal shards. According to some ancient Cultivator who discovered miniscule entities that caused illness one day while testing out his enhanced vision, it was akin to how the body fights off infection, with Iron having said to come from the stars, and thus was anathema to our Earthborn energies. Even Gabriela was careful not to flare up her gi whenever handling something made of iron.

“Bulalo eh?” I asked, hugging her from behind. Gabriela chuckled, inclining her head to lay a quick peck on my cheek. I’d be lost without her, as I can cook only a scant few dishes, one of them just being rice.

Oh joy, the mongrel and mutt have returned. A haughty voice called out. I groaned, and turned. There, lying lazily atop a small side table, sat Selina, Gabriela’s Spirit Beast, and a very vexing feline. She was a lynx, and quite prideful too. While a normal lynx would, from my limited knowledge of the beasts, be hard to deal with, Selina was fairly tame. Both Gabriela and I had a hunch she only allowed herself to be a “pet”, and my beloved’s Disciple, simply to freeload off us. I turned, and Selina cocked her head, a small teasing smile gracing her face. Chances are I shall not get any rest for the foreseeable future, given you wish to breed with my Master.” I ran a hand down my face, while I was, admittedly, a horny idiot, I had my limits.

“Stop teasing Selina, or you won’t get the extra bit of tilapia I saved for you for dinner.” Gabriela mock threatened. At this Selina’s open mouth immediately locked up, but she still cast a small glare in my direction. Soon, dinner was ready, the scent of slightly salty smelling bulalo and the tangy smell of homemade garlic rice. While a Cultivator, in both senses of the word, had found out how to infuse strains of rice with the taste of garlic, which had become popular, sometimes doing it yourself made it taste so much better. Our dinner was relatively uneventful, as Gabriela and I simply made small talk. Eventually, after washing the dishes, we turned in for the night, huddled in each other's arms, as Selina and Kimat took charge of guard duty.

Morning came soon enough, the cries of neighborhood roosters signaling the dawn. After a quick breakfast which for today just meant reheating what was leftover from dinner, Gabriela and I began getting the shop in order.I infused some gi into the non-iron wares, as one of the first things one learned as a Cultivator was that gi could make things sturdier, make food taste better, and other little things.

As I wiped down the central counter, the bell over the front door sounded. I looked up, “Welcome to Avelino General Emporium!” I called out, and spotted our first customer of the morning. He was a tall man,dressed in simple work attire, tunic, sunhat, sandals, and short pants. the intricate tattoos across his body marked him out to be Vizaiyan. The broad musculature, calloused hands, and sunkissed tan showed he was a laborer of some kind, perhaps a farmer? There were a good number of farms around Sugbu.

He waved, “Salamat.” He reached into a weathered satchel at his side, pulling out what I presumed was a shopping list. Muttering to himself, he began making his way around the shop, grabbing two whetstones, a vegetable peeler, a few mason jars, and other odds and ends.before bringing them to the counter. Luckily he wasn’t the haggling type, so he paid a base twenty-eight bronze cowries for the items. I put the money in our nearby savings box. Thank Bathala that Gabriela was in charge of finances, doing calculations for extensive periods of time gave me a migraine. The next two and a half hours passed by without a customer, which didn’t surprise me. Things were always slow the first day of the week after all. Alongside this, I didn’t mind. Don’t get me wrong, out of all the several hundred-odd sects on the island, the Stormfangs were by far the nicest, but well, things often got a bit too exciting up in the mountains. I’ll still never forget the time Lola Lee had gotten absolutely hammered in a drinking game with a rival Blademaster during a summit of sects once, and had led a drunken chorus of a bawdy tavern song about a tavern girl and a large tarsier, good times.

My trip down memory lane was interrupted by the tinkling of the bell. Gabriela, who had been restocking some shelves with jars of preserved pig’s blood, was the one to greet our customer. “Welcome to the Av-” I looked up to see why she had paused, and found myself glancing at a familiar face.

She wore the colors of my old sect, her shoulder length black hair tied into a ponytail, her slightly lighter toned skin shone in the morning light, and she had, as normal, forgotten to tie her robe completely closed. Her name is Corazon Dalisay, and she was one of my Junior Sisters in the Stormfangs, and something akin to a sister to me.

“Cora.” Gabriela smiled, setting down the last of the jars. She hugged her, and gave her the standard Valuan double cheek kiss, which Corazon reciprocated. Corazon had often visited me, as she had some kin here in Sugbu, whenever we went on our annual Walkabouts, and in the absence of any close family in the area, had offered to be a bridesmaid for Gabriela when our wedding happened.

Corazon smiled as she hugged me next, her familiar lilac scent wafting over the room. Absent-mindedly I tied the robe she wore completely close. “Hey Lobo.” she said, then blinked and moved her hand, fishing out a wrapped scroll out of one of her loose sleeves. “Here you go.”

I opened the scroll. It was a letter from one of my cousins, Marisa. She was in the Unlimited Blades Sect, which focused almost exclusively on swordplay. She had just achieved Profound Realm. “Good for her.” I muttered. Then I remembered, “Hold on, why are you bringing me my mail?”

Corazon gained an expression of mock hurt, “Come now, can’t I come and visit my wonderful Kuya?” she pouted. “But it was part of your Honorable Discharge and Departure.” Oh right, I almost forgot. You see, one of the founding Elders of the Stormfangs, Acda of the Anal-Law, who was rather anal-retentive about legalism to an extreme level, and not because he was obsessed with simply laws involving the ass, had included a little procedure in the unlikely event someone wished to leave the sect, whether temporarily or permanently. One of which was that, unless notified that the person was no longer of the sect, all postage would be routed through the monastery and delivered to wherever the former Brother or Sister was located, often by a disciple or even a Master who was close to them.

“Oh right, thanks.” I set the letter aside. “So, you hungry or thirsty? Its almost lunch, so….” I asked, as it was always good to spend time with one’s relations. Thank Bathala we didn’t have any wine or other booze on hand. While Corazon was a fun, jovial drunk, she tended to have lapses in control and well, let’s say the last time a building was on fire, it was her fault. She paid for and helped repair the damages, which put her in my mind leagues above a majority of other Cultivators, who wouldn’t dare to sully their hands with “mortal work.”

Corazon shook her head, “I wouldn’t wanna impo-” The sound of a rumbling landslide filled the air, before all of us realized it was coming from her stomach. “M-maybe a little merienda and some for the road wouldn’t hurt.” she chuckled bashfully, her cheeks aflame.

Our late lunch was a fairly calm affair, each of us having just bought some food to go from a bistek cart run by Manong Benjay, one of the neighboring storefront owners. The warm beef, the tangy sauce, and the grilled onions over rice really hit the spot. After we cleaned up the dishes, and chatted some more, it was already turning to dusk.

“Well, today was fun. I’ll be back for the wedding.” Corazon said, stifling a yawn with the back of her hand. “I best be heading back before it gets too dark, w-” Before she could get another sound out, the sound of crashing thunder rung throughout the air. “That came from the beach!” Quickly grabbing jackets, Gabriela and I followed after her towards the nearby beach, where a crowd was already forming.

A ship, or what remained of one, had run aground, a good portion of the hull had been caved in by the seawall, the sails little more than tattered rags, and scorch marks lined the wood. Before any of us could get close to it, part of the wood rose up, and out staggered a woman. She muttered up, blood coating her body, before collapsing a few feet from Gabriela.

Corazon was over the girl in an instant, her hands lighting up with gi to help assuage the woman’s wounds. “Gabby, Lobo, get her inside now!” she ordered.

Carefully, we picked up the unconscious woman, and carried her into the store.