“It has been four days since Datu Rakta passed away.” The voice shattered the tense silence enveloping the grand council chamber of the palace. This room, was once alive with the Datu's presence and authority. But now… it felt hollow, its walls spelling the uncertainty of a kingdom left without a leader.

  Usually, these meetings were presided over by Datu Rakta himself, but now only the ten Elders are here. The most influential and richest persons of Tundun's noble Maginoo class. They sat around the long table all nine looking at the elder who just spoke. Their expressions were a mixture of contemplation and tension as they faced the monumental task of determining who would rise to fill the void left by the beloved Datu. Standing firmly, the voice continued;

  “I believe it is time for Ginoong Mayari to take her rightful place as her father's successor.” The words sent a current through the room, sparking silent exchanges of glances and barely restrained curiosity.

  Another elder spoke, a tall and muscular one. He has a fur all over his arms, and chest. His tail wrapped around his waist like a belt, “I second elder Rakon, Mayari is the only daughter of Datu Rakta…” he paused for a while, “Tundun cannot go on without a ruler for an extended period of time.”

  Elder Kuyo then stands, “I agree… what can you say about it elder Aslon?” he gazed at the man sitting at the end side of the table. “Should we declare princess Mayari as the new Datu few days from now?”

  Elder Aslon’s piercing brown eyes gazes on the table, his thick grayish brow furrowed. He sighed and said, “No. She cannot take the position... at least not yet…” He declared. His tone cut through the gathering like the snap of brittle wood, drawing a ripple of uneasy murmurs from the assembly.

  His sharp eyes scanned everyone for their reactions. His thin hands clasped in front of his face in a steeple. Everyone felt the heavy air that suddenly filled the room. Then, questions arose.

  “What do you mean, Elder Aslon?” their eyes narrowing in confusion.

  Aslon stood up and reached into his pocket and pulled out a small golden earring, casting it onto the polished wood table with a resounding clatter. The eyes of the elders followed it, narrowing as they recognized its intricate design, a crescent moon pierced by a kampilan blade, the sacred symbol of the of the Rakta clan.

  “Wait... This is—” one of the elders, a small one around 3 and half feet gasped with a pointed ears, unable to finish as realization dawned upon him.

  “Yes, Elder Sumakwel” Aslon said with an edge to his voice as he speaks to the kalanget elder. “This is the earring of Princess Mayari. Question is... how did it come into my possession?”

  Murmurs rippled once again through the room, each voice more unsettled than the last. One of the elders spoke up, his voice quivering "Why do you have the princess's earring, Elder Aslon?"

  Aslon's eyes turned at the big wooden door and said, “Marahuyo, you may enter.”

  The heavy doors creaked open, and the room fell silent as a woman walks in. All eyes locked on her. She was tall, with a slender yet muscular forearms were wrapped in smooth, chocolate-brown fur that glistened in the light. Her short, brown hair framed a face both fierce and alluring, her eyes wide and keen beneath delicately arched brows. A monkey-like tail coiled snugly around her waist.

  “I trust you all recognize Marahuyo,” Aslon continued, gesturing at her. “A maharlika sworn to my house and a fierce warrior.” Marahuyo bowed, smile painted her lips as she surveyed the council with a gaze that could pierce steel.

  “Good day, esteemed elders. I am Marahuyo, an Ikugan. Recently, we returned to the site of our Datu's death. It was there that we discovered Ginoong Mayari's earring,” she declared, her voice smooth as silk yet edged with a firmness.

  Aslon began pacing, his measured steps adding to the tension that now crackled in the air. “Do you know what troubles me most?” He paused, letting the silence hang for a moment too long. “A creature like the Berberoka, which we all know dwells only in lakes and rivers, was found deep within the forest. Why was it there?” His eyes, sharp as daggers, met those of the council. “That is why I commanded Marahuyo to lead an investigation. And lo and behold, our warriors found Ginoong Mayari’s earring.”

  The silence thickened like smoke, suffocating and heavy. Elder Kuyo, with his deep-set eyes and a voice like gravel, finally spoke. “Elder Aslon, I do not like where this is headed.”

  “Ginoong Kuyo,” Aslon said, “do you have a better explanation?” He turned to face the entire council, raising his voice to reach the farthest corners of the room. “As the prime elder, it is my duty to preside the selection for the next Datu.” He sat once again. “I am merely doing my duty. I… no… WE must make sure that Ginoong Mayari is fitted as the new Datu.”

  Aslon’s eyes met Kuyo’s “Besides, I am only presenting the facts and the evidence our warriors have gathered.”

  The council murmured, debating on the appropriate course of action in these delicate times. “As I've said, my dear elders,” Aslon resumed “One thing we can do to honor our departed Datu's memory is to uncover the truth. I propose we summon Mayari here for questioning.”

  At this, Kuyo slammed his hand onto the table, standing. His eyes seething with rage as he points a finger at Aslon. “Elder Aslon! I will not tolerate such disrespect toward the Princess!” he shouted, then continued “What right do you have to mention the princess’ name so carelessly, without the proper ti—”

  Kuyo's words were abruptly cut off by the cold press of Marahuyo's kampilan against his throat. “Forgive me, Elder Kuyo, but I won't allow you to raise your voice, much more point your finger at my lord.” Marahuyo's tone was quiet, but his gaze and voice were laced with warning. The entire council was stunned by the warrior's audacity.

  “MARAHUYO!” Aslon roared. “What do you think you're doing!? Lower your weapon!”

  Marahuyo quickly stepped back, bowing in apology. “Elder Kuyo, I apologize for the disgraceful behavior of my servant.” He gave Marahuyo a brief, cutting look. “It seems she needs to be disciplined.”

  “Please also forgive me my friends. I did not mean to disrespect the princess.” He bowed his head, as if to hide the tears falling from his eyes. “Like you, I am deeply worried about what fate may befall our land.” He lifted his head, wiping the tears that manages to escape his eyes, his voice now cracking. “I am afraid that Tundun will descend into chaos. I know that we must appoint a new Datu immediately, but we cannot place the princess on the throne until everything is clear.”

  Aslon struck the table with a resounding thud, the sound echoing through the room “We owe our prosperity to the late Datu, and so we are bound by duty to uncover the truth behind his death.” The other eight elders nodded in agreement.

  After the deliberation, majority of the council decreed that Mayari be summoned. Upon receiving the order, the Princess willingly complied, escorted by ten guards to the appointed chamber. She was led to a small, dimly lit room beneath the palace, supported by adobe and coral stone pillars, each corner illuminated by a single lamp. Calm yet visibly simmering with anger and frustration, Mayari took her seat. Minutes later, two council members entered. Kuyo and Aslon, stepped into the chamber

  “Good evening, ginoong Mayari,” Kuyo greeted. The tension was palpable as their presence carried the weight of authority. Outside, four guards stood vigilant.

  “Lord Aslon. Lord Kuyo,” Mayari acknowledged them, rising from her seat in a show of respect.

  Once they were all seated, Aslon began, “Princess Mayari, you must be wondering wh—”

  Mayari cut him off with a glare. “You suspect I killed my own father.”

  The two men stiffened. “Th–that is correct, Princess," Kuyo admitted, stunned by her directness. "But how did you know?”

  “Tsk,” she scoffed, “It wasn't hard to guess, especially since the guards who escorted me practically shouted it from the rooftops.”

  Aslon quickly tried to placate her, “Princess Mayari, do not worry. This is just an inquiry, not a trial.”

  Glancing around at the small, confining room. Mayari sneered, “Sure doesn't feel like it.”

  Although Aslon knew the Princess was frank by nature, even he hadn't expected her to be this sharp-tongued. “W–well, we are simply following the protocols laid out by our laws,” he said, straining to conceal his irritation.

  “Let's get on with it, then,” Mayari replied, crossing her legs in a gesture of defiance. “What evidence do you have?”

  Aslon produced a small earring and placed it on the round table between them. “Princess Mayari, could you explain why this was found at the scene of Datu Rakta's death?” he asked, watching her closely. Mayari's eyes widened upon seeing her lost earring. Aslon noticed her reaction, smirking slightly before pressing, “You seem surprised, Princess.” Kuyo threw Aslon a disapproving look, incensed at the elder's disrespect. Mayari, picking up on Kuyo's anger, inhaled deeply before answering, “Honestly, I don’t really have a good answer for you.”

  Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

  While the "inquiry" took place, Alita paced back and forth near the corridor outside the room where Mayari was being held. Restlessness clouded her every step; it was as if the walls themselves echoed her unease. Worry etched deep lines across her usually composed face as she whispered, “Why is this taking so long?” The uncertainty gnawed at her like a relentless storm.

  Unable to contain her concern, Alita made a move to approach the room, but the guards stationed at the corridor immediately blocked her path, their spears crossing with a decisive clang. Frustration simmered under her skin, making her fists clench. “This is bullshit…” she muttered through gritted teeth. She glanced down the corridor, feeling the weight of her anxiety pressing heavily on her heart.

  Back in the chamber, Inside the room, Mayari struggled to answer the questions posed by Aslon. Despite her attempts, every response seemed inadequate, unable to convincingly explain how her earring ended up at the site where her father was found dead. Her voice cracked with frustration as she exclaimed, “I already told you old man, that earring was missing since last week!” ,Mayari’s face is turning red, while she clenched her fist.

  Aslon's eyes starred at Mayari’s “Ginoong Mayari,” he said, his voice carrying a weight that silenced the room, “If that's the best explanation you can offer us, then we have no choice but to detain you in your chambers.”

  A stunned silence followed, punctuated only by the sound of Mayari's ragged breathing. Her chest rose and fell as indignation and helplessness mixed into a storm behind her eyes, making the reality of her position sink deeper into her bones. Finally, Mayari shot to her feet, furious. “ME!? DETAINED!?”

  “Yes, Ginoong Mayari, and there's nothing you can do about it. This is my decision, in accordance with the law.”

  Her fists clenched tighter, she was about to punch Aslon, but the guards stepped forward. Kuyo placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, urging her to calm down. “Princess Mayari, please understand that Elder Aslon is merely fulfilling his duty as the head of the council.” Kuyo shows sorrow in his eyes. “I know you're grieving and angry over your father's death. Believe it or not, I know how you feel.” He sat beside her, lowering his voice, “Your father was not just my lord but also my closest friend.”

  Aslon, seizing the moment, added, “That's right. Listen to Lord Kuyo.” Aslon then whispered, “Rotten brat.”

  Mayari forced herself to stay calm, steadying her breath before speaking. “You know,” she said, eyes glinting with newfound resolve, “I have another theory on how my earring ended up at that place.” The smirk on Aslon's lips faded, and a subtle tension crossed his features as he braced himself for her words.

  Mayari’s expression sharpened into a confident smile as she began. “Someone entered my room when I wasn’t there. They took my earring’s pair and waited for the right moment. When the time came, they joined the investigation at the site of my father’s death.” Her gaze burned as she locked eyes with Aslon, a silent challenge in her stare. “Then they planted the earring for the guards, who were conveniently with them, to find.”

  A ripple of shock seemed to run through the room as the implication sank in, and Mayari's voice, though calm, carried a sharp edge that sent a shiver down everyone’s spine. Aslon's jaw tightened, and his teeth clenched in anger. Taking a slow, steady breath, he asked, “Princess, is there something you're trying to imply?”

  She feigned innocence, raising an eyebrow. “Not at all. Why do you ask? You wanted an explanation, didn't you?”

  With a gritted teeth, Aslon growled, “Well then, good night, Princess Mayari. We shall continue this discussion tomorrow.” He stormed out, Kuyo following close behind.

  Outside the room, Alita immediately approached, bowing politely. “Good evening, lords,” Aslon shot her a glare before leaving, while Kuyo lingered to speak with her.

  “Good evening, Lord Kuyo. How is the Princess?” Alita asked, her tone anxious.

  “The council suspects the Princess' involvement in the Datu's death,” Kuyo replied solemnly.

  “What!? Princess Mayari will never do that!”

  “I know.” Kuyo's grip on Alita's arms tightened, his eyes unflinching, “Be vigilant, Alita. Lord Aslon is the most powerful member of the Council. With just the smallest shred of evidence, he can easily sway the rest of its members.”

  Alita’s expression was a portrait of simmering anger, the helplessness in her heart making it hard to stand still. She spat as frustration flickering across her features as she grappled with her inability to aid her princess. Kuyo, before turning to leave, met her eyes once more with a firm, steady warning. “Prepare yourself for what’s to come, maharlika. Soon, Princess Mayari might need you greatly.”

  The darkness of the night sky covers the expanse of Ma-i. Like a prelude to what is to come. Past midnight, Aslon’s carriage rolled into the courtyard of his grand residence. Unlike other houses in the Capitol, his stood out in splendor and scale, with a vast courtyard and guards patrolling the grounds at all hours. As the carriage halted, an aliping saguiguilid, a slave with nothing of their own, rushed forward, bowing deeply as they took his belongings.

  “Good evening, my lord. Both of your sons are here,” the slave said with a deep bow.

  Without a word, Aslon marched inside, greeted promptly by his sons who stood waiting in the hall.

  “Good evening, Father.” His sons said in unison.

  A smile broke across Aslon's face as he embraced his eldest. “Sula! Hahaha, it's good to see that your journey went well.”

  "Yes, Father. Sorry I couldn’t make it to Datu Rakta’s final rites."

  “Hahaha, don't worry about that.” He clapped his arm around Sula's shoulder, steering him towards the dining room. “What matters is that you're here now.”

  Masala, Aslon's youngest son, lingered behind in the dimly lit entryway. His eyes held a wistful gaze, his smile tight and strained. He watched, half-forgotten, as his father's attention remained glued to Sula, the air filled with laughter and stories that never included him. This moment was all too familiar. One of their slaves, noticing Masala's dejected stance, gave him a warm, sympathetic smile. “Come, ginoo, let me escort you at the table.”

  “Come on, brother!” Sula called out cheerfully, gesturing for him to sit. Masala's chest tightened at the sound of his brother's voice, warm with affection. He forced a smile and settled at the table. The dining room was lavish, floors of white marble gleaming beneath the electric lights, one of the few homes in the city equipped with such modern amenities.

  "Wow, Pops, looks like you really went all out for this," Sula said, grinning as he reached for the rice.

  "Of course! It’s been nearly three months since we last saw each other," Aslon replied.

  Sula turned to his brother with a curious smile. “So, how’s soldier life treating you bro? I heard Penumbra’s been getting bolder lately.”

  “Life’s fine,” Masala answered quickly, adjusting his chair. “And yeah, the Penumbra is definitely getting bolder, though most of their activity is still confined here in Tundun.”

  “Is it true some baylans have joined them?” Sula asked while drinking a glass of water.

  “It’s true, but their skill with the Nu is limited. Most of them are just timawa with no military training.”

  “Those poor timawas,” Sula said slowly, “Anyways… you’ll probably be captain of your squad soon,” Sula said with a proud grin. “Masala, Captain of the Arbikizer de Tundun, at just twenty-one.” Sula said while gesturing on the air like reading something.

  A shadow of smile crossed Masala's lips as warmth filled him, if only for a moment. The pride in his brother's voice was something he clung to in the cold void left by their father. “Thank you, brother,” he said, his voice soft, filled with yearning.

  Aslon, not paying attention, interjected and said “Now, eat up, Sula, before everything gets cold.” Aslon reached across and handed the adobo to his eldest, the gesture finalizing the invisible boundary that separated Masala from them.

  The dining felt hollow for Masala as his father pours out his attention to his elder brother. The clattering of plates, and sound of Aslon’s chewing serves as the background for Masala’s melancholy. Few minutes later, the meal ended, and the family went to their rooms. Masala lay in his own room, staring at the ceiling, the weight of his father's indifference pressing down on him like the heavy silence of the night.

  Meanwhile, alone in his quarters. Aslon closed the door and shed his outer garments. He lit a lamp and set it by the open window, the moon outside casting a pale, serene light across the room. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the chill night air as he struck a match to light his tobacco. In silence, he sipped a steaming cup of tea, unbothered to the quiet ache in his younger son's heart.

  “You look pleased," said a voice, smooth and mocking.

  Startled, Aslon spun around, searching for the source. “Ne–Nemo?” His eyes darted nervously.

  From above, perched nonchalantly on the edge of the roof, the figure emerged from the shadows. “Everything seems to be falling into place for you, doesn't it? And you haven't even lifted a finger yet.”

  A slow grin spread across Aslon's face. “Yes, fortune appears to be favoring me. Without needing to act, the heavens seem to be offering the title of Datu to my family.”

  “In that case, I guess you won’t be needing my help anymore.” The moonlight highlighted Nemo's crimson hair, flowing like a silken banner. His brown skin shone under its pale glow, his eyes dark and piercing. A strong, lean frame, he wore a red tunic that ended just above his elbows, and trousers lined with golden seams that barely reached his knees. On his feet were wooden sandals woven with sturdy wood, a bakya that clicked softly whenever he moved.

  Aslon took another sip of tea, savoring its warmth before answering, "Not yet. Stay in Tundun until the title is secured for my eldest."

  “Very well, if that’s what you wish,” Nemo replied, his voice fading into the stillness of the night as he disappeared into the shadows.

  Under the same night sky at the palace, sleep continued to elude Mayari. Confined within her room, that is now a temporary prison. Her mind refused to rest. Alita, her loyal maharlika, stood vigilant outside, barred from approaching or speaking to her. The oppressive silence only deepened the storm within Mayari’s mind. In the span of just five days, her father was gone, and now her freedom hung by a thread. She glared at the cold, metal wristband locked around both her wrists, their weight a cruel reminder of her current reality.

  “SON OF A BITCH!!!” she shouted, as she throw away everything on the table.

  Collapsing onto her bed, she stared blankly at the ceiling, trying to quiet the whirlwind in her thoughts. The brief silence was shattered by a knock at her door.

  “Come in,” she commanded, her voice low and sharp.

  The door creaked open, and Kuyo stepped in, bowing respectfully before the princess. The guards outside shut the door as he approached. “Princess Mayari, you understand what this situation means, don't you?” he began.

  “Yes,” Mayari's response was immediate, her voice cutting through the tension. “That asshole Aslon. He's making a play to seize the title...” Although she was of noble blood, Mayari's fierce temperament was notorious, her sharp tongue earning her frequent reprimands from her late father.

  Kuyo's lips curved into a small, knowing smile. “I'm glad you see through his ploy, Princess.”

  “Yeah, but seeing it will not clear my name, fucking shit…” she muttered. She paused, eyes narrowing as she connected the dots. “But isn't it a little too obvious? Even for him?”

  “You’re right, Princess, but Tundun is walking on the edge of crisis. Between the Iberian government, Penumbra insurgency and rising tensions with Pailah, the kingdom cannot afford a power vacuum.” Kuyo sighed heavily before continuing, “The council will have no choice but to follow Aslon if it means stability.”

  “With no Datu, Tundun would be no different to a headless chicken,” Mayari said, the realization stinging her pride. Then she continued, “and Aslon Amanisula’s the most powerful fucker on the council. It just makes it easier for him to push his son, Sula, onto the throne.”

  “For fucks sake,” Mayari growled, her fists trembling with the effort to control her anger. “When I clear my name, I'll make sure that son of a bitch pays.”

  “Princess, you must stay calm.” Kuyo's eyes softened as he approached, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

  “I know the grief and fury consuming you. But from now on, you must rise above it. For the sake of your father's legacy and Tundun's future, you have to be wise, not just clever.” He stood up and walked towards the door.

  “Wisdom is the edge that cunning alone cannot grant.” His eyes met hers, serious and unwavering. “You can’t afford to be the same reckless teenager anymore.” With a final glance, he placed a key on the table. “Princess, the choice is yours.”