Chapter 46: The Journey to the Heart of the Cordillera
The morning sun cast a gentle glow, filtering through the towering pine trees that lined the winding road to Benguet. It had been a week since the fierce battles in plaridel, and the air carried a fragile peace. Inside a sleek white van, its roof laden with tied-down supplies, Erik, Hiyas, Magdalena, Cris, and a slumbering Georgia traveled in near silence. The only sounds were the soft hum of the engine and the occasional whisper of wind slipping through the open windows.
Georgia lay across the back seat, her long hair splayed across a makeshift pillow of rolled-up blankets. Her face was pale, almost lifeless, her breathing shallow, like a candle flickering on the verge of extinction. The toll of overusing Hustisya's powers had left her in a comatose state, her spirit drained. Erik, seated in the front passenger seat, couldn't help but steal glances at her through the rearview mirror. His eyes brimmed with worry and guilt, the weight of his responsibility to save his friend pressing like a stone against his chest.
After four grueling hours on the road, the traffic grew heavier, the vehicles crawling as if trapped in an endless procession. The air inside the van turned warm and stifling, despite the open windows. Hiyas, perched near a window, let out a dramatic yawn, her gaze fixed on the lush green peaks of the Cordillera in the distance.
"Ugh, four hours stuck in here? Isn't there *something* we can do?" Hiyas groaned, her voice dripping with boredom. Her long hair, tied loosely in a ponytail, swayed as she shifted in her seat. "Erik, entertain me! I'm dying of boredom here!"
Erik, leaning back in his seat next to the driver, turned to her with a furrowed brow. "Entertain you? We're in a van, Hiyas. What do you expect me to do—dance in the middle of traffic?" His tone carried a mix of exasperation and amusement, unsure why Hiyas's mood had suddenly shifted.
Hiyas let out a huff, her fingers fidgeting with a small bamboo necklace. "I don't know, just *do something*! Tell a story, crack a joke, or, I don't know, work some miracle with your powers. Just don't let me die of boredom!" Her eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief, as if daring him to amuse her.
Erik shook his head, rubbing his face with a sigh. As a sugo, he knew he was bound to honor the whims of a nature diwata like Hiyas, but even he hesitated. "Hiyas, don't order me to do things I don't even know how to do. And what's with you all of a sudden? You weren't like this before."
"What do you mean?" Hiyas asked, tilting her head.
Erik hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "Lately, I've noticed… you're changing."
His words struck Hiyas like a spear. Her playful smile faded, replaced by a flicker of hurt in her eyes. "Changing? I've always gotten bored easily, Erik. The difference is, back then, I didn't care. I'd just sleep, stare at the clouds, or count the trees outside."
"But ever since Laguna gave me that book about humans—how they live, what they do for fun—everything changed," she continued, her voice softening. "I started wanting to experience it too. I want to try the things humans do."
Magdalena, who had been listening quietly, spoke up. "Hiyas is a diwata, Erik, different from humans. She's adapting to the world around her, influenced by what she sees."
Erik studied Hiyas from head to toe, wondering if mimicking human behavior would truly benefit her. "There's nothing wrong with learning about humans," he said gently. "But Hiyas, I hope you've also learned to consider others. Sympathy, you know? Understanding how the people around you feel."
Hiyas grinned, though her smile carried a hint of pride. "I've always had sympathy, Erik! I care about things—well, some things. Not everything, obviously."
Erik sighed, his gaze drifting back to Georgia in the rear. "I just hope I'm one of those things you choose to care about, Hiyas," he muttered under his breath, barely audible.
His heart swelled with hope, yet it was weighed down by the burden of saving Georgia. *Please, let everything turn out okay.*
Hours later, as the sun dipped below the horizon, the van rolled into La Trinidad. The sky blazed with hues of orange and pink, painting the strawberry fields and vibrant flower gardens that surrounded the town. The group stopped before a grand mansion, a palace-like structure nestled among the mountains. Its white stone walls were adorned with intricate carvings of flowers and trees, and its red-tiled roof gleamed in the twilight.
As they stepped out of the van, Erik's eyes widened at the mansion's splendor. "Who owns this place? Is it Laguna's?" he asked, his voice tinged with awe.
Magdalena, organizing supplies at the back of the van, smiled. Her long hair, tied in an elegant bun, danced in the breeze. "Master Laguna owns many properties across the country. He's a doctor, a lawyer, and has connections both here and abroad. This mansion is just one of his holdings."
Cris, carrying a crate of supplies, joined the conversation. "Master's abroad right now, handling important matters. He uses his influence to expose the Spaniards' cruelty in the Philippines to the world."
Magdalena continued, her voice filled with respect. "According to Master, violence isn't the answer. If a rebellion breaks out, it's either the Spaniards die or the Filipinos are wiped out. He sees no justice in killing Spaniards just for peace. He's also afraid of the cost of freedom—millions of Filipinos could perish in a civil war."
Erik stared at her, his mind swirling with questions. "Is that why he's negotiating with Spanish officials? To change the system?"
"Yes," Magdalena replied. "He's even reached out to other countries for support. But his plans aren't certain. That's why he relies on heroes like you, Erik—sugo like you to slow the rebellion until we can convince the Spaniards for a government that favors Filipinos."
Cris interjected, his tone grave. "We'll be staying here for a week before we meet the sugo of La Trinidad."
Erik's eyes widened in confusion. "A week? Why? We're already in La Trinidad. Can't we find them now?"
Magdalena shook her head, her smile tinged with concern. "Unfortunately, the sugo isn't here right now, Erik. They're often summoned to the capital to aid the military against rebels."
Erik froze, his heart racing. "Military? What do you mean? Who *is* the sugo of La Trinidad?"
Cris met Erik's gaze, his eyes brimming with confidence as he revealed the sugo's identity. "Her name is Major General Jasmine, a government official."
Cris's words hit Erik like a thunderbolt. "Major General?!" he exclaimed, his voice thick with shock. "If she's a government official, why are we meeting her? The government's hunting us! How can we trust she'll help us?"
Hiyas, who had been listening silently, spoke up, her voice cold and calm. "We're asking for her help because we need it, Erik. If she refuses, we'll make her agree—or we'll use force."
Erik's eyes widened in alarm. "Force? Hiyas, we can't fight a general! You know how powerful they are. I'm no match for them!"
Hiyas shook her head, her eyes flashing with disappointment. "Erik, you can't afford to be a coward. You want to save Georgia, don't you? If you want to succeed, you have to face the dangers. You can't let fear hold you back."
Erik's hands trembled, unable to respond immediately. He knew Hiyas was right, but the thought of facing a general felt like a nightmare. Before he could speak, Magdalena intervened, her voice laced with hope.
"Erik, it's not a bad idea to seek help from a Filipino general like us," she said. "Many of them serve the Spaniards because of missions from their diwata. The Spaniards gave them authority to protect their lands, but that doesn't mean they hate their fellow Filipinos. You're not a criminal, Erik. There's still a chance we can reason with her."
Cris nodded, though his expression remained serious. "But we need to be prepared, Erik. There's a high chance it could lead to a fight. While we wait for the sugo, we'll train you in combat."
Erik stared at Cris, his eyes filled with doubt. "Who's going to train me?"
Magdalena smiled, her confidence unshaken. "Though we're merely creations of Master Laguna, Erik, we possess the knowledge and skill of warriors. We were made to be his weapons. We can teach you what you need to know."
The group entered the mansion's grand living room, a masterpiece of artistry. The polished wooden floor gleamed, and the walls were adorned with paintings of Cordillera landscapes and flowers. Large windows allowed the twilight's warm glow to flood the room. A plush red sofa sat at the center, facing a narra table intricately carved with traditional Filipino designs.
Erik sank into the sofa, his body weary from the long journey. Cris sat across from him, his eyes burning with determination. "Erik, you need to become a true warrior," he said, his voice resolute. "Your energy and strength rival a general's, but you're no match for a trained fighter."
Erik's heart pounded as he met Cris's gaze. "But can I really learn to be that skilled?"
Cris smiled faintly, though his expression remained serious. "We won't know unless you try. Salazar ranks 89th in Spain. He's strong, yes, but he's nothing compared to Spain's elite swordsmen who fight in wars. There are countless sugo in the Philippines, Erik, and Master Laguna can find and convince them to join the fight. The problem? Filipinos don't know how to truly fight."
Erik frowned, puzzled. "What do you mean? Isn't our power enough?"
Cris leaned forward, his eyes intense. "For over a century, the Spaniards and other nations have studied the use of diwata powers. Haven't you noticed? Many Spanish generals are immune to bullets or blades. Even the strongest rebels can't match them in true combat. And the reason? The *knight state*—or as we call it, the *sugo state*."
Erik's brow furrowed. "Sugo state? What's that?"
Cris took a deep breath, his voice softening. "The *sugo state* is the perfect control of a sugo's power. But to understand it, you need to know about chakras."
Erik blinked, his mind reeling. "Chakras? What are those?"
Cris smiled, eager to explain. "Chakras are energy centers in the body, rooted in ancient Hindu and Buddhist traditions but used by sugo worldwide to amplify their powers. There are seven main chakras:
1. **Root Chakra (Muladhara)**: The foundation of stability and security, connecting you to the earth.
2. **Sacral Chakra (Svadhisthana)**: The center of emotion, creativity, and relationships.
3. **Solar Plexus Chakra (Manipura)**: The source of personal power and discipline.
4. **Heart Chakra (Anahata)**: The core of love and connection to others.
5. **Throat Chakra (Vishuddha)**: The center of communication and truth.
6. **Third Eye Chakra (Ajna)**: The source of intuition and wisdom.
7. **Crown Chakra (Sahasrara)**: The connection to the spiritual world and enlightenment."
Erik stared, struggling to process the information. "How do I use that to become a warrior?"
"Before you can enter the *sugo state*," Cris replied, "you must understand and control your chakras. When you achieve the *sugo state*, you can unleash the full potential of your diwata's power. But it's not easy, Erik. It requires discipline, focus, and… sacrifice."
Before Erik could respond, Magdalena entered the room with a tray of snacks—steaming cups of hot chocolate and suman wrapped in banana leaves. "Have some merienda first," she said, her smile warm. "But Erik, you need to be ready. We can teach you the *sugo state*, but I doubt you'll master it in a week."
Erik hesitated. "Apyong already taught me about controlling energy. Is that part of the *sugo state*?"
Cris nodded. "Yes, Erik. Energy control is the first step. That's where it all begins. So eat, rest, and then we'll start your training with the chakras."
---
Meanwhile, in a military camp in Cavite, the air crackled with tension. The camp was encircled by towering stone walls, patrolled by Spanish soldiers with rifles slung over their shoulders. Inside a grand room adorned with Spanish flags and maps of the Philippines, General Apyong and Major General Jasmine held a meeting.
Jasmine, a woman with long golden hair, wore a pristine white coat adorned with military insignia. Her sharp eyes held a trace of weariness, as if burdened by countless secrets. Apyong, in his true form as an elderly general, bore streaks of white in his hair and scars from past battles, seated in his wheelchair.
"Jasmine, thank you for your help in Cavite," Apyong said, his voice filled with gratitude. "It's difficult to contain the Katipunan rebels, especially when they're rallying the people to rise up."
Jasmine offered a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I'm just doing my duty, General. But I don't see the rebels as enemies. Our goals differ, but they're not savages. I know the sugo of Kawit, Indang—she's a gentle woman who doesn't seek war."
Apyong nodded, his face heavy with regret. "It's a shame she refuses to join us. Her powers could do so much for Cavite."
Jasmine closed her eyes, her hands tightening on the table. "She has her reasons for resisting the Spaniards, General. You know the cruelty the wealthy Spaniards inflict on Filipinos. It's not just a matter of loyalty."
Apyong sighed, his eyes clouded with worry. "I know, Jasmine. But as sugo, we must find balance. We need to protect the people, but I fear Indang might act recklessly, especially with the Katipunan in Cavite."
He was grateful that Jasmine, at least, could reason with her to prevent a rebellion. Jasmine's smile carried a warning. "General, I can talk to them, but I can't control them. If the Spaniards' cruelty continues, the sugo will act. I urge you—find a way to stop the abuses in Cavite's towns."
Apyong nodded, his expression grave. "I'll do what I can, Jasmine. But controlling the wealthy Spaniards is no easy task. All we can do is protect those under our care."
Before Jasmine could reply, her phone buzzed. She glanced at the message, her face shifting—a mix of shock and determination. She stood swiftly, her movements calm yet purposeful. "Excuse me, General. I have something to attend to."
After the meeting, Jasmine climbed into a black vehicle waiting outside the camp. Her eyes stared out the window as Cavite's trees blurred past. "To Tagaytay," she ordered the driver, her voice devoid of emotion. "Leave me there and tell headquarters I'll head straight to Batangas afterward, as planned."
Major General Jasmine was renowned for her prowess in combat, effective in quelling rebels. As she held no large territories like other generals, she was often dispatched to aid other provinces or towns.
As the vehicle navigated the road, it screeched to a halt near a commotion. The police officer accompanying her stepped out to investigate, learning of a bank robbery nearby, with multiple hostages held by criminals.
The officer reported to Jasmine, explaining that the standoff was halting traffic. Jasmine sighed, stepping out of the vehicle with frustration. "Of all times, when I'm meeting my boyfriend, you cause trouble."
She ordered the officer to stay with the car, as she needed to reach her destination quickly. With a powerful leap, she landed beside the responding police, startling them. Recognizing her general's insignia, they saluted. "What's the situation inside? How many criminals and hostages?" she demanded.
"General, our men report four criminals inside. They've killed hostages when we tried negotiating, and they're holding over twenty people. They have no escape route and refuse to surrender. We believe the hostages are in grave danger."
"They know death awaits them if they surrender," Jasmine said, her voice steady. "They won't negotiate."
As she stepped forward, a golden aura enveloped her body, her white coat billowing as her long hair danced in the wind. With each step, vines sprouted around her, and sampaguita flowers bloomed at her feet. From her back emerged a massive plant adorned with sampaguita blossoms, its eyes and mouth forming an eerie presence.
"You have ten seconds to surrender," she declared, her voice resolute. "I won't repeat myself."
Inside the bank, fear gripped the hostages as the general's presence intensified the tension. "She's a general! She'll kill us if we don't comply!" one criminal whispered.
"If we surrender, they'll just kill us slowly in prison," another retorted.
As Jasmine took another step, the bank's doors burst open. Instead of surrendering, the criminals unleashed a hail of bullets. Jasmine stood unmoved, the bullets ricocheting harmlessly off her body.
The robbers froze, stunned that their gunfire had no effect. "Bullets are nothing to me," Jasmine said coldly. "You refused my offer of peace, so I'll have to use a little force."
Vines coiled around her arms, and with a surge of energy, she lunged into the bank. Her movements were a blur, too fast for the criminals to react. With a single punch, she sent them crashing into the walls, knocking them unconscious. In her *sugo state*, her strength was ten times that of a normal human, and she knew her blows were enough to subdue them.
Surveying the bank, she saw terrified hostages and the bodies of those killed by the robbers. Moments later, police stormed in to apprehend the criminals. Jasmine approached a wounded woman, gently touching her head. "Don't worry," she said softly, "you're safe now."
A golden aura enveloped the woman, healing the gunshot wound on her arm. Sampaguita flowers bloomed around them, leaving the onlookers in awe. The woman, trembling, asked, "Who are you, General?"
Jasmine smiled warmly. "I'm Jasmine, a Filipino general. As long as you're part of this nation, I'll protect you to the best of my ability. My flowers will bloom to bring safety and hope to those who deserve it."
The people thanked Jasmine, vowing never to forget her aid. As she stood there, her phone buzzed again. Reading the message, her expression shifted to panic. Excusing herself, she instructed the police to tend to the victims and hurried back to her vehicle, ordering the driver to speed off. As she left, the sampaguita flowers withered and vanished.
Minutes later, the car stopped outside a small restaurant in Tagaytay, overlooking Taal Volcano. The place bustled with tourists, tables laden with steaming bulalo and cups of barako coffee. Jasmine slipped into the restaurant's comfort room, locking the door and ensuring she was alone.
Before the mirror, her appearance transformed. Her golden hair turned black, her white coat vanished, replaced by a simple white blouse and jeans. Her sharp, authoritative face softened into that of a gentle young woman. She was Flora Pantilan, a 25-year-old medical student, her life woven with secrets and responsibilities.
Leaving the restaurant, Flora boarded a jeepney, her eyes bright with anticipation. She headed to Sky Ranch, a popular Tagaytay attraction where rides and views of Taal Volcano offered joy. As she entered the park, she paused at a scenic spot, the volcano framed by the lake and surrounded by clouds and green hills.
Flora smiled, her heart lightening as she soaked in the serene view, momentarily forgetting her burdens. The cool breeze carried the scent of grass and flowers. But before she could relax, a pair of hands covered her eyes.
"Guess who's here?" a familiar voice teased, brimming with mischief.
Flora gasped, but her surprise melted into a smile as she turned. Before her stood a man in a red shirt, tall and close to her age, his eyes twinkling with joy. "I missed you, Flora," he said, his smile warm. "I'm glad you agreed to meet."
Flora shook her head, her hands on her hips. "*You* missed *me*? You're the one always too busy to meet!" Her tone was playful, but her eyes sparkled with delight.
Before she could say more, the man offered a small bouquet of roses, their petals as red as blood. "Happy anniversary, Flora," he said tenderly. "Don't scold me. I haven't seen you in almost a month. I traveled all the way from Manila to be here."
Flora's cheeks flushed as she accepted the roses, but her smile carried a trace of worry. "Are you sure you came for me? Or is it Indang you're really here for in Cavite?" Her tone was teasing, but her eyes held doubt.
The man paused, rubbing his forehead. "Flora, come on. I'm over Indang. If I talk to her, it's not now. You're the reason I made this trip." He took her hand, his warm fingers wrapping around her cool palm. "Enough doubting. Let's try the rides. I want to enjoy them with you."
Flora's eyes softened, but worry lingered. "It's easy for you to say forget everything, but how can I be at ease? You know our situation. You're seen as a rebel, and I'm a sugo working for the Spaniards. How can we make this relationship normal?"
The man grinned, undeterred. "Flora, I've told you before—I don't care about your job. I love Flora, not the sugo of La Trinidad, the Spaniards' 'lapdog.'"
Flora's eyes narrowed, her tone firm. "Are you serious about me? Because if not, we can end this now. I won't let you use me to fight the Spaniards. You'll gain nothing from me."
The man's smile softened, his voice sincere. "I'd never use you, Flora. I'd never force you to do anything you don't want. My love for you is real, and I want it to last. And besides, I believe I'll succeed even without your help. I'd never put my girlfriend in danger—if anything, I'd hide you away in a house if I could."
"Tch, what am I to you, some object to hide?" Flora retorted.
She sighed, her eyes filled with sadness. "But how long can we keep this up? This isn't a normal life. I'm scared, you know? I'm scared for you."
The man gently touched her head, his fingers brushing her hair to calm her. "You don't need to worry, Flora. I'm the most powerful sugo, right? No one can hurt me." His tone was confident, but his eyes betrayed exhaustion.
Flora shook her head, her voice soft. "No matter how strong you are, I can't help but worry. I love you, but it feels wrong to be happy with you."
He pressed a finger to her lips, smiling. "Stop worrying. We promised—no talk of work when we're together. Let me spend this day with my sweet, gentle Flora."
Flora pouted but wrapped her arms around him, knowing she wanted to be with him despite their complicated situation. "I feel like I'm doing something bad," she murmured.
"Bad? If being happy is a crime, let me be your accomplice," he replied. "I'll take the blame just to be with you."
He grinned, his eyes full of warmth. "Deal with being 'bad,' Flora. I'll make sure we have many more happy days together." He took her hand and pulled her into an embrace, his arms offering warmth in the cool Tagaytay night.
"And it's your fault, you know," he teased. "You charmed me, a simple flower capturing the heart of Manila's fierce lion."
Flora laughed, her heart lightening for a moment. "You're so full of yourself," she said, her voice brimming with joy. "Fine, let's enjoy the rides. Our time is short, and I want to make the most of it."
Their laughter mingled with the lively sounds of Sky Ranch, fading into the night. Behind their smiles, both carried the weight of their roles—as sugo, as lovers, and as Filipinos in a nation torn by struggle.