Subang was the first.

After my defeat, Apolaki was shrewd. He didn’t kill me—not with the other diwata watching, waiting to see what kind of Ruler of the Sky he would be, not when my sisters had maneuvered around him for my sake—but he did punish me all the same. Banished to the realm of humans, to live and live and live among them in the world that our father had Created.

That alone would not have been a punishment: my mother was human, I was born in their realm, lived the first fraction of my life as human before Bathala had raised my sisters and I to the Sky, ascended to diwata status. No, that alone would not have been punishment.

It was being alone that was my punishment. While I had been banished from the Sky, my sisters were detained there. Ostensibly to be Apolaki’s attendants—Hanan the Morning Dawn and Tala the Starlit Dusk, bookends to the Shining Sun himself—but we knew the truth. They were prisoners. Hostages. Both of them held close even as I was sent away, reduced to Apolaki’s servant in the realm of humans.

Sometimes, in the centuries that followed, I wondered if perhaps it was more than just punishment; if, somehow, he had foreseen the need of a diwata to walk the world, a divine warrior who could navigate the realm of humans. Because, not too long into Apolaki’s reign as Ruler of the Sky, a new threat appeared:

Bakunawa, Serpent of the Sea.

Arrogantly, foolishly, desperately, I thought I could defeat Bakunawa alone, prove myself to the other diwata, and earn my place back in the Sky. After all, I was Mayari, the Radiant Moon, one of Bathala the Almighty Creator’s chosen heirs. Despite my humble origins, I was one of the most powerful diwata, second only to the new Ruler of the Sky and yet...

… I blamed my lost eye and the corporeal form into which I been detained, my prowess diminished even as I still recovered from the battle for the Scepter. I blamed Apolaki for being too cowardly to fight alongside me and protect the Sky as a real Ruler would. Scheming to send me to my death without dirtying his own hands and tarnishing his reign. I blamed the humans for being too weak to defend themselves; I blamed Bakunawa for preying on, despicable. Briefly, I even blamed my sisters for not letting me die with honor, for abandoning me to a fleeting, pitiful existence that would end in a far more pathetic defeat. I blamed everyone but myself.

Subang was the first.

That night was a full moon. That night the light of my purview was supposed to illuminate the Sky, as close to home as I could get. That night was meant to empower me and guide the humans even as I walked among them.

Instead, to my horror, the moon began to darken under the shadow of the Serpent as it rose from Sea to Sky, teeth glistening and ready to rend and consume. Instead, the moon turned red, an ill omen of the blood that would be shed that night.

I was arrogant and foolish and desperate and so I fell once more, defeated. This time, there were no tears. Instead there was anguish: I could not resign myself to an honorable death, not when my failure would mean the world’s end.

Bakunawa was poised to strike—fins and scales gleaming red under my eclipsed moon, almost gleeful in its bloodlust—when the sound of gongs, bold bronze, reverberated through the air.

Subang was the first. Clever and brave Subang leapt forward with her gong, distracting the Serpent and giving me the opportunity to regain my strength and retaliate. Clever and brave Subang whose music underscored the battle, turning combat into dance, defeat into victory… 

... But it was not a victory without sacrifice.

Subang was the first. I remember. I remember the gong and mallet fallen to the ground. I remember Subang’s eyes blank and glassy, face smudged with dirt and blood. I remember as Bakunawa’s teeth dug into her, dragging her down into the Sea. I remember the moon returning to its normal luminescence. I remember Apolaki appearing, Scepter of the Sky in hand, while I once again was on my knees, staunching bloody wounds, not crying but filled, once more, with grief.

“Well done, sister,” Apolaki said, too late to be useful, too late to be anything but deliberate. Behind him stood his attendants and that sight was what nearly brought me to tears: Hanan’s eyes void of any emotion, Tala silent, subservient.

I didn’t ask what was wrong. I didn’t think to ask what was wrong, as battered and drained as I was. I could only breathe and bleed and live and live and live.

“Our first victory against the Sea Serpent,” Apolaki said, and the proud, wrathful, inhuman part of me briefly flared up in indignation before it drowned in exhaustion and grief, “Though, no doubt, this battle is but the start of a continuous conflict.”

Later, I would wonder if this was yet again another bout of foresight or if it was perhaps something more insidious.

Hanan and Tala, still void of emotions, still silent and subservient, bent down for Subang’s gong and mallet. There were no comforting hands, warm or cool, no concerned attention or protective words; they returned to their places behind Apolaki and had nothing for me.

“You know your duty, Mayari,” Apolaki decreed, tone heavy with all the authority of the Ruler of the Sky, before leaving with his attendants in tow. I nearly crumpled with the weight of it. I would not be returning home any time soon, not chained to this impossible duty as I was.

Subang was the first... 

... She would not be the last.

---

There was the Sky and the Sea and the world in between, the realm of humans. Though perhaps that was a misnomer, for humans were not the only ones who lived among them—and that was not just counting myself.

While the other diwata lived in the Sky, their domains and purviews encompassed the three realms: such as Anitun Tabu, the Rain Bringer, who controlled the weather in the Sky and her brother Dumakulem, the Mountain Guardian, who protected humans on the land. Even the Sea, treacherous though it was, had Amanikable, the Hunter Lord, who watched over the fishermen as they toiled upon the unpredictable Sea.

There were others, of course, and I knew them by name, by face, by domain and purview—for I had been an heir to Bathala, and might have been their new Ruler of the Sky—but there was more than just diwata and humans in the world.

Anito were as numerous as they were varied, and mysterious in addition to that, for their origins couldn’t be attributed to Bathala, even though they inhabited the world he Created. They appeared seemingly randomly and in practically anything—animals, plants, places, objects, natural phenomena, and intangible concepts—even humans. The human anito, uncommon as they were, generally only appeared after death as ninunò, ancestor spirits who guided their descendants through times of hardship.

However, sometimes, there could be an even more exceptional form of human anito, so rare that they had no name; humans who, in life, could even measure up to the power of diwata…

… Like warding off the Serpent of the Sea with nothing more than the sound of gongs.

~

A/N: I’m going to do this! I believe in myself! Also I have finally stated Mayari’s name! And I am still as bad at dialogue as ever! I’m a little meeeeh about her title as “Radiant Moon” I wasn’t sure if I should use a different adjective but it’s the one that best fits for now, I guess?

Starring: Subaru Impreza