[Ibaloi — Kingdom of the North, ruled by Princess Kitain, only heir of King Aglipay]
Town of Kabyan, Kingdom of Ibaloi
I grew uneasy when the High Priestess fixed her gaze upon me the moment I reached the end of the line. Her stare was sharp, but I was fortunate that no words came out of her mouth—perhaps she had already grown weary of my stubbornness as her favorite apprentice.
I lowered my eyes to the ground and swallowed hard. I still couldn't believe I had managed to arrive just in time before my companions departed for the trial. My hands were cold with nervousness, but since I was already here and knew I could still take part, I took what little time I had left to smooth my tangled hair and straighten my wrinkled wrap.
"I have waited long enough. Prepare yourselves, for today we shall depart westward—to the palace of Her Majesty," said Gurong Agas, the High Priestess and sister of Gagang, the dance master and true mother of Ilay and Lira.
I had been taken in by Gagang as a servant, and upon reaching womanhood, I came under the care of Gurong Agas, which led me to become her apprentice. But more than being an apprentice, I knew well why she was so drawn to me—she knew what I was. She knew that I was a witch, for she once knew my mother.
At her command, I lifted my gaze and a faint smile escaped my lips. As my feet began to move, I felt ready to see her again…
Each step I took carried a trace of excitement, especially when I entered the grand palace surrounded by the princess's valiant warriors. Gurong Agas led us toward the former King's chamber in the northern wing, beside the Princess's own quarters.
Gurong Agas stopped a step before the doorway, and one of the guards immediately announced our arrival. With the old King's permission granted, we entered quietly and knelt behind our teacher before greeting in unison, "Greetings, Your Majesty."
"I am pleased to see you, Agas, and your apprentices. You may rise," replied a soft and graceful voice. "You may now begin the examination."
Though I shouldn't have, I dared to glance at the lady seated beside the King's bed—and her beauty was only matched by the sorrow in her eyes for her ailing father.
"At once, Your Majesty," replied Gurong Agas, standing before us. "Apprentices, this trial will determine whether you are worthy of becoming a full-fledged priestess or remain an apprentice for another year. Your task is to assess His Majesty's condition and recommend a cure. Anyone who offers a false diagnosis, as judged by me, shall lose her right to continue as an apprentice."
A tense silence filled the air. The weight of our fear was palpable.
"We will begin with you, Uyang," said our teacher to the first in line, then turned to the one behind her. "The rest may wait outside the chamber."
We bowed and exited quietly. Just before turning my back, my eyes met the Princess's—her gaze was kind and encouraging, like the light of a morning star. Her beauty outshone even the dawn.
That single smile filled me with courage.
The Trial
I lost track of how long I waited, until I realized I was the last one left outside. Some who emerged wore frowns or tears; a few smiled faintly. I didn't let myself dwell on whether they had passed or failed—all I could think about was my own desire to succeed.
When Gagang found me sixteen years ago on the shores of Kabuluan, where she performed with her troupe, I was barely alive. After the sea carried me away from Tondo in my father's fishing boat, I awoke in a foreign land within the kingdom of Ibaloi. I never knew how long I was unconscious before waking in a house full of music and laughter—but even now, I still struggle to recall the missing pieces of that night.
It was Gagang, the dancer, who saved my life with the help of her sister Agas. She had not intended to keep me, but upon the plea of Princess Kitain, then the consort of Ibaloi, she took me in as her servant.
"Yumi, are you listening?" The sharp voice of Bulak, one of my fellow apprentices, snapped me from my thoughts. Her brows furrowed as she hissed, "Go inside—the Princess awaits!"
As she passed, her shoulder struck mine deliberately. For a moment I froze, then turned to watch her walk away, each step heavy with resentment. I sensed her ill intent—but instead of holding back, I whispered softly, "Kneel."
Bulak stumbled on her next step, falling hard on her knees. I turned away without another glance. Her muffled cry faded behind me as I entered the chamber.
I knelt beside the old King's bed and bowed. "Greetings to you, Your Majesty the Princess, His Majesty the King, and High Priestess Agas. The final apprentice has arrived for today's examination."
"Ah, Yumi," my teacher said with a faint, amused smile, gripping her long guava-wood staff. "You've finally come."
A soft chuckle came from the Princess before she spoke.
"Yes, Yumi. It pleases me to see you among the apprentices being tested today. You are the most gifted of them all—I trust you will not disappoint us."
The Princess's kind acknowledgment warmed my heart, but also made me tremble. I could not bear to fail her—the very woman to whom I owed so much.
"You honor me with your words, Your Majesty," I replied softly.
The Ailing King
The King's eyes were wide and sunken, ringed with dark shadows. His skin clung thinly to bone, and faint traces of dried blood stained his nose. Even the white sheet beneath him bore rust-colored spots where his fingers had clenched.
I took his frail hand, feeling for his pulse. His heartbeat was strong yet irregular, his body warm beyond the ordinary. After a final check, I stood and faced the Princess.
"His Majesty's warmth and pulse are unusually high. The nosebleed and dark circles beneath his eyes are signs of exhaustion," I began calmly. "Due to lack of rest, blood flows more rapidly through his chest and skin, causing heat and fatigue. His nosebleed results from dehydration. I recommend that His Majesty be given ample water and proper rest."
"How certain are you, Yumi?" asked my teacher, stepping closer. "The King has grown frail, and you claim water alone will heal him?"
"No, Master," I replied. "Water will not heal him—it will only ease the strain and prevent further bleeding." I turned toward the royal pair. "Your Majesty, if lack of rest is the cause, may I ask what prevents you from sleeping?"
"I do not wish to sleep," the King murmured weakly. His voice trembled with sorrow.
"My father… what do you mean? Why—" the Princess began, but he interrupted softly.
"There are things I no longer wish to see—visions that haunt me whenever I close my eyes. Nightmares… or perhaps memories of what I deeply regret—things I cannot bear to recall."
The Princess's eyes glistened. The moment was heavy with pain, and I hesitated to speak until the King looked up and said gently, "Continue, apprentice. Is there a cure?"
I shook my head. "There is no cure, Your Majesty," I said, drawing gasps from both my teacher and the Princess. "For His Majesty's condition is not an illness. The only remedy I can offer is a means for him to rest peacefully."
"And that is?" asked the Princess hopefully.
"Chamomile tea may help induce sleep, Your Majesty."
"But my father already drinks tea nightly," she replied.
"Indeed," said the King weakly, "but it no longer soothes me—it tastes no different from water."
I paused, thinking deeply. "Then perhaps… opium may be of use."
My teacher's eyes widened. "Do you realize how dangerous opium is, Yumi? In excess, it can dull the senses, slow the heart, and even bring death."
"I do, Master. Yet, if used with care, it can calm the mind and body effectively."
"Opium?" asked the Princess, puzzled.
"Your Majesty," I explained, "it is a flowering plant often used for medicine in the Ming Empire. Its unripe seeds are boiled until thickened, producing a resin that induces calm and sleep."
Gurong Agas and the Princess exchanged looks. Then my teacher smiled—genuinely this time.
"Excellent, Yumi. I am pleased with your wisdom," she said, turning to the royal pair. "Your Majesties, I concur with my student's assessment. I declare her trial successful."
The King nodded weakly. "Then so it shall be. My gratitude—and my congratulations."
We both knelt deeply and bowed. "We humbly thank you, Your Majesties."
After the Trial
I left the Princess's palace alone, eager to tell Ilay and Lira the results—and to seek their advice.
I found them outside, practicing a dance near the firewood and water jars. The clearing was wide enough for their graceful movements. Lira played her bronze gong while Ilay spun and stepped in rhythm. I joined her for the last few steps—a joyful dance called Tayaw, often performed during celebrations and weddings.
"How did it go?" Ilay asked, smiling brightly. "From the way you're smiling, I'd say the news is good."
I nodded, grinning.
"Then congratulations, Yumi!" she cried, leaping forward to hug me tightly. "You're now a true priestess!"
Laughing, I gently pushed her off. "Calm down, Ilay. Gurong Agas has yet to make the announcement officially. And besides, I came to ask for your counsel."
"About what?" asked Lira, still holding her gong. "Don't tell me you're having second thoughts about accepting your place as a priestess?"
I sighed and rubbed my neck. "That's… exactly it, Lira. I'm not sure I'm ready. There's still something I must do."
The Coronation
Three weeks later, the Princess summoned me to a council meeting. Her advisers, Gurong Agas, and several priestesses were present, as well as two of my fellow apprentices. This must be the day of our formal appointment. Yet instead of joy, unease filled my heart.
When the Princess entered, we all bowed.
"I thank you for coming on such short notice," she began. "I have gathered you to share good news—and to seek your thoughts on a letter I received today."
Her gaze turned toward me and my companions, and with a warm smile, she announced:
"My advisers, my priestesses—join me in congratulating our three new healers of Ibaloi. These apprentices, under the guidance of Gurong Agas, have passed their trials with excellence. Today, I appoint them as full members of the Council of Priestesses."
The hall filled with cheerful greetings and respectful bows.
"May you aid our kingdom in preserving peace, health, and prosperity," said Gurong Agas proudly.
The Princess gestured to a servant, who brought forth a small chest. Opening it, she said, "As a token of my joy, I bestow upon you these silver needles and healing tools. You are also granted free access to the kingdom's resources and treasury to aid in your work."
We knelt to receive the Princess's gifts. And though everyone rejoiced, my heart was divided—half filled with gratitude, half with longing.
For I knew, deep down…
I was not yet ready.
I had to return to Manila—no matter the cost.
Just as I turned to leave, a servant called out,
"Priestess Yumi, please stay. Her Majesty requests your presence after the council to rest in her chamber."
And just like that, the winds of doubt eased.
A gentle smile found its way to my lips as I followed the servant toward the Princess's quarters.