Chapter 5: Shaman Regional Office
The shaman regional office, just like many other government buildings in the Philippines, was an old, three-storey building with cream-colored stone walls and windows encased by wrought iron grills. At the entrance was a middle-aged security guard performing security checks. Behind him was a plain, polished wooden door with a brass sign overhead bearing the letters SHAMAN REGIONAL OFFICE in a decorative and ornate font.
Immediately after the incident, Angelica and her friends were invited to the regional office for a bit of inquiry from the government shamans. Initially, they felt apprehensive about this but the unit head reassured them that it was nothing but a formality and that they will be released soon after.
They passed by the well-lit corridors which stank of old musty paper and caffeine, all evidence of the workers’ unwavering dedication to their jobs. Compared to other government buildings though, the shaman regional office had rather high ceilings, and was furnished head to toe with talismans and prayer beads. Each doorway was laced with some sort of tangled vine, no doubt doused in holy water and reinforced with sigla. On the way to the room where they were supposed to be questioned, they came across a large expanse full of supernatural beings who were there for their registration.
“Please say your name for verification purposes.” Behind the desk, there was a woman with thick, black glasses, looking bored as she perused through the documents filled out by the otherworldly creature in front of her. It was a white lady, a translucent ghostly figure of a woman usually seen haunting old buildings or empty streets at night.
“I couldn’t remember my name so I made one,” said the white lady. She had a quiet gravelly voice, and she looked very gloomy as if the air around her was freezing. There was a long line of duendes behind her who looked very concerned about their own application papers.
“Well what's your newly made name then?”
“Sel-”
But before they could catch her new name, they had already moved on to the next room. It had a smaller entryway with a faded sign saying DEPARTMENT OF THE LOST AND FOUND. Behind a door that was slightly ajar, they could hear someone announcing, “Are there no reports on that sarimanok yet? Channel 20 called again ten minutes ago.”
“Still no news. Damn, how could they lose a sarimanok of all things?” another voice said. There were loud groaning noises from the irritated staff until someone else shut the door, blocking all sounds from within.
“Is this your first time here?” the unit head asked them once the door closed. They heard his name was Mr. Delfin and he was a man in his early fifties, with thinning black hair, and delicate wrinkles around his eyes. He seemed forthcoming, even his voice was mild and a bit soft-spoken.
“Yes,” all four of them said in a chorus.
“Come to think of it, young shamans only come to the regional office when they finally pass the shaman licensing exams. Are you already prepared? You must have three or four years left before you can take it.”
“Heh, no sir. I don’t think anyone can be prepared,” said Mark.
“We’re trying though,” said Katie.
“That’s good. Reminds me of the time when I took the exam. I was twenty-one just like everyone. I thought I almost peed in my pants when they left us inside an old abandoned building for the team examinations. It was crazy. They made us fight a tikbalang examiner then. My partner and I fled the first time we saw it,” said Mr. Delfin.
“The supernaturals can be examiners too?” said Angelica.
“Oh yes, the supernatural examiners are usually at the top of their fields so apprentice shamans cannot just take them down easily. They usually grade the examinees based on their response, and how they use the tools given to them. The exam may take a couple of days, depending on your examiner,” said Mr. Delfin. “Are you guys excited?”
“More like scared,” said Mark.
“Oh come on. You already took down a bungisngis on your own didn’t you?”
“We’re not really alone. We have the masked lady shaman. We’re not the ones who defeated it. We just tied it down,” said Angelica.
“Don’t be so hard on yourselves. The fact that you managed to face a bungisngis at your level is still very admirable. No doubt about it,” said Mr. Delfin. “We’re here.”
He pushed open a heavyset wooden door. At first glance, the office seemed ordinary, filled with waist to ceiling folders and documents, mugs with remnants of stale coffee, creaky chairs and standard wooden tables. However, one side of the room was a shrine of sorts, filled with an odd assortment of shaman artifacts such as holy water, weapons like guns and daggers, salt, and even cloves of garlic.
The air inside felt a little tense, likely due to the unexpected bungisngis attack. Many of the employees had frantic voices as they busied themselves with answering phone calls. Some were glued in front of their screens, keyboards clattering with their incessant replies.
“Good morning sir,” said the employee closest to the door. She was young, and most likely not a shaman based on her sigla. Not all who work inside the regional office were shamans. Most individuals who do office work are just ordinary citizens. Some workers who were in charge of the registration division may have a bigger amount of sigla, but still not enough to qualify as a shaman. Most of the real ones were outside, either fighting violent supernaturals, or doing some other kind of field work.
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A chorus of good mornings filled the air as more office staff noticed their unit head enter the room. Mr. Delfin just said with a wave of his hand, “Don’t mind me. Continue what you were doing.”
The staff just nodded their heads and returned to their work. Before their group could proceed walking, another person interrupted Mr. Delfin. He was a rather large, chubby man with a round, smooth face and three double-chins. He had narrow slit eyes and pale skin. Angelica was sure that this man was a shaman.
“Mr. Delfin, I see you've returned with these young apprentice shamans?”
“Yes Ivan. Are you about to clock out?”
“Yes sir. Had a long night last night. Actually for the past three nights now. I don't envy Inna at all,” said Ivan.
“Is she inside already?”
“Yes sir.”
“That’s good. Well, I hope you have a good rest. I'll take them inside now,” said Mr. Delfin.
The man named Ivan bowed as much as his plump body could muster, then he turned around and left out of the door from where they entered.
They set foot in Mr. Delfin’s office which was at the end of the hall. It was slightly cramped, and made even smaller with the mountain of documents on his large desk. Nevertheless, it was clean and orderly. A young-looking woman was already there, busy typing away on her phone when they arrived.
Unlike the ordinary employees outside, the woman looked a bit eccentric. Everything about her screamed ‘Look at me, I’m a shaman!’ that it was a bit hard to miss her in a crowd. She appeared to be in her early thirties with short purple hair and long black side bangs. Her eyes had deep eye bags, most likely due to recurring night shifts. Except for her thumbs, she had one ring for each finger, each with a different color, and on her ears were large chandelier earrings. A large snake tattoo was clearly visible on her right arm to her wrist. She wore clothes with a mismatched color set, further exacerbated by the ludicrous, bright red prayer beads on her neck.
“Uhmm hello ma'am,” the apprentice shamans said.
They all knew who this woman was. Who wouldn’t?
The woman only looked up when she heard their voices. Her name was Inna Alonzo. She was a genius and she came from a prominent family of shamans in the Southern Tagalog region, “Oh so you’re here. Sit down, sit down.”
She ushered them inside and took out four green monobloc chairs. Mr. Delfin sat on his designated chair behind the desk and looked at them with a slight smile on his face.
“Did you just come from your duty, Inna? Sorry I had no one to ask. Everyone else is busy and the remaining ones are just senile old men and women,” asked Mr. Delfin.
“That’s quite alright sir. But it was crazy out there. We’re only chasing manananggals last night but there suddenly came news of a bungisngis. Oh, where are my manners? I haven’t introduced myself yet. I’m one of the shamans stationed here in QC. My name is Inna Alonzo.”
They all introduced their names one by one starting from Joan.
“That’s great. So you are our heroes, eh?” said Inna.
“Uhmm, not really. We just helped the masked shaman lady,” they repeated what they said before.
“Right, right. Sir you won’t mind if I take over from here, huh? What were you saying about the masked shaman lady again?”
“She was the one who defeated the bungisngis, not us. We just helped,” said Mark.
“Can you tell me more?” said Inna, sounding too eager.
Angelica recounted the story from when she encountered the shaman to the time she disappeared. The entire time Inna had been looking at them with rapt attention.
“Right, did she tell you who she was?”
“No, we presumed she’s a shaman from the regional office, is she not ma'am?” asked Katie.
“No, no, you see, we’ve heard about her before but we have no idea about her identity or who she’s affiliated with. Can you describe her for me? You’ve seen her up close after all. The video shots that the different channels got were a little too blurry,” said Inna.
“Uhmmm, she’s not tall. About 5’2 or 5’3? Black hair in a ponytail,” said Angelica, finding it odd that she’s more interested with the shaman lady more than the bungisngis.
“Mestiza, chinita or morena? Does she have an accent? How does she speak?”
“More of mestiza I guess? I’m not really sure, everything happened so fast. She doesn’t have any accent, or at least she sounded like she’s from Manila. She’s really smart -”
“How about her weapon? You said she had two right?”
“Yes. It was a bow and arrow when I first saw her but when I glanced again she was wielding a sword. She used the sword to blind the bungisngis.”
“Did she look proficient with both? If I ask you what shaman tier she would be, what do you suppose?” asked Inna.
“From my level, she seemed able to wield both weapons well. But I’m no expert so I may be wrong. As for the tier-” Angelica trailed off, thinking hard. Right now she can’t recall the shaman tiers.
“You’re familiar with the tiers, I hope? Five star shamans or supreme shamans are the strongest of course. There are only eleven five star shamans in the whole Philippines. Four star shamans are just one step lower. They may be as strong as a five star shaman or slightly weaker, but they haven’t fulfilled some of the requirements needed to become one. There’s still a whole lot of bureaucracy in between so some people opt not to apply as five star shamans even if they have the ability for it. Three star shamans are usually the instructors you have in your school, while two star shamans are usually just a bit stronger and more capable than your one stars. Those who just graduated and passed the licensing exam are of course one star shamans. And then we have you guys with no stars, the apprentice shamans,” finished Inna. She seemed like she had drunk five mugs of coffee with an energy drink on the side. She’s practically bouncing on her chair while saying all of this.
“Inna, breathe. You’re overwhelming the children,” said Mr. Delfin, laughing.
“Sorry sir, I had to get out a lot from them before someone else we know shows up.”
‘Someone else they know? Who could it be?’ thought Angelica.
“Well? Would you know what tier?” said Inna, turning to them with an expectant look.
“Uhmmm yes, in that case, probably a one or two star? No, a two star. She seemed to be stronger than the newly licensed shamans,” said Angelica.
“Two star huh? Perchance, did you see a duende near -”
But before she could finish her question, the door to Mr. Delfin’s office opened with a loud bang.