Siquijor was beautiful—mystical in ways that Dumaguete couldn't match. Ancient trees, hidden coves, an energy that hummed with centuries of magic.
The retreat was nestled in the island's interior, accessible only to creatures who knew the path. A series of bamboo cottages surrounding a natural hot spring that glowed faintly at night.
"Bioluminescent algae," their host explained—a ancient kapre named Lolo Bencio. "Very good for wing maintenance. Soaks in, softens the membranes."
Glad couldn't remember the last time she'd truly relaxed.
Days passed in a gentle rhythm: morning meditation, afternoon exploration, evening soaks in the glowing spring. No phones. No cameras. No expectations.
Ariel shifted freely, spending hours as a dog, running through the forest with Anino. The two had developed an unlikely friendship—or at least, an armed truce.
"I think Anino likes you," Glad observed as they watched the cat allow Ariel to scratch behind his ears.
"High praise from the feline overlord."
"He's not an overlord. He's a cat."
"Same thing."
On the third day, they hiked to a hidden waterfall, swimming in waters so clear they seemed impossible.
"Ariel," Glad said quietly, floating on her back, wings spread like a raft, "can I ask you something?"
"Anything."
"Do you ever regret it? Getting involved with me? The chaos? The fame?"
He swam closer, taking her hand. "Never. Not for a second."
"But your life was simpler before. Quieter."
"My life was empty before. I was hiding, just like you. Just like everyone." He squeezed her hand. "You gave me purpose, Glad. You gave me community. You gave me—" He hesitated. "You gave me hope that I could love again."
Glad felt tears mix with the waterfall spray. "I was alone for so long. I'd forgotten what this felt like."
"What what felt like?"
"Being seen. Really seen. Not as a Manananggal or a celebrity or a symbol. Just... me."
Ariel smiled. "I see you, Glad. Every part. The scary parts and the silly parts. The parts that are bad at selfies and the parts that change the world."
"Hey, I've gotten better at selfies!"
"Marginally."
She splashed him.
He splashed back.
Anino, watching from a rock, looked deeply unimpressed by their antics.
But even he couldn't hide the slight twitch of his tail—the cat equivalent of a smile.