Eternal Promise: Fragments Of Us

SIDAPA

“CAN’T breathe,” I said, and Libulan quickly released the hug. I lied. No one had ever hugged me before so it was an alien feeling. I couldn’t tell if it was comfortable or something I would find displeasing.

Libulan wiped off his tears and sniffed, before flashing a smile. “I’m glad that you’re alive!”

“Sorry for scaring you like that,” I apologized. “That’s why I didn’t want you to see me while I was making the machete. I had a feeling you’d react like this,” I told him.

Libulan pouted, and scoffed at me before stomping his foot. “You should have told me beforehand! What if I actually stabbed you with my spear?”

“Then I will just have to stop you,” I sarcastically replied.

He was still annoyed and relieved at the same time, but he chose to close the topic and he asked me something that would likely change the way I saw things until now. “Hey, Sidapa… Those souls that weren’t given a chance to be reborn or forever rest in the afterlife, what exactly happens to them? I’ve heard that they are trapped inside Magwayen’s salakab and there, they wander the eternal void of nothingness. It sounds worse than being transported to the afterlife,” he said.Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

“You’re the first person to ask me that, so I really do not know how to answer,” I honestly admitted, and Libulan was in disbelief.

“Did you really spend thousands of years living alone?” he asked in amazement.

“Well… Agui comes by every year because of the festival, but he never once considered me as his friend. He was only fond of humans,” I said.

“Festival?” Libulan was intrigued.

“Oh. There’s a small village down this mountain. They acknowledged me as their God and as a sign of respect, they held festivals for me annually,” I explained.

Libulan’s eyes sparkled in awe. “That’s so sweet of them!” he exclaimed.

“You think so?” I wondered, and he nodded. “One week from now, the festival will happen again. Do you want to witness it?” I asked him.

Libulan became ecstatic. “Yes!” he willingly agreed, but his expression quickly changed. “I just remembered, I have to stay up there on that day,” he said, feeling a little down.

I looked up to the sky. “Do you necessarily need to stay put when it’s your time to light up the night skies?” I wondered. That sounded hypocritical of me. I always did the same, and would rarely leave the tree.

“No. We stay up there so we can watch the mortals from above. Sometimes, they pray to us, the Moons. Some ask for a good harvest, and others ask for blessings like granting them a child,” Libulan shared. “Did you know that I’m also known as the Moon Deity of fertility? Many women wish to have a child, but aren’t blessed with one. And they are the ones that suffer the most from it. They started praying to me because they knew that I was a softhearted Deity, and I don’t want to see them hurting. So I used my powers to make them happy and fulfilled.”

“Isn’t it too overwhelming?” I asked. “I get loads of new souls and dead souls that need to be judged at the same time, and it can be stressful,” I admitted.

“True,” he smiled faintly. “But I feel happy that they depend on me. And when I see the joy in their faces when the child they’ve been wishing for is finally in their loving arms, is enough to fill my heart,” Libulan uttered.

“So, those souls that were given chances, you were the one who decided where they should be born again, huh?” I said.

“Yes. Because I believe that every human deserves to be forgiven even if they didn’t live their previous lives as good people,” he uttered.

“Good and evil, huh?” I said to myself while staring at the horizon. “I wonder which of the two is true and which one is a lie?”

“What?” Libulan’s eyes widened, not sure if he would frown or feel conflicted about what he heard.

“One only becomes evil when they don’t fit in the concept of what is good. It’s the same to how mortals perceive me as the God of Death. When someone hears of the word ‘death’, what comes to their mind is plain cruelty. I am not ignorant of the fact that many perished in a horrible way. More than half of the living individuals in the whole world wish to die, Libulan. But when they are faced with death itself, it’s ironic how much they would beg to let them live.” I didn’t know what expression I was making when I said these words, but Libulan looked like he was about to cry.

“Sidapa, I’m sorry,” he apologized out of guilt.

“Don’t,” I told him. “Hold onto what you believe. Don’t change them just because you heard mine,” I added.

Both of us were silenced for a few seconds after that. Libulan prevented himself from crying again. He secretly threw glances at me, but would immediately pretend that he was looking the other side when I tried to catch him off guard.

“Um, actually-” He halted right before he could even finish what he wanted to say when our eyes met by chance. “Never mind!” he exclaimed, and swiftly turned his back against me. The back of his ears were beet red. It was hilariously obvious because he had such pale skin.

“Libulan,” I called out to him. He almost turned his head towards my direction, but stopped at the right time. I chuckled. I saw Libulan flinch. Then I spoke again, “Do you want to see how I send the souls to the afterlife?” I told him.

Libulan’s back was still facing me when he answered. “Do you mean it?” he asked in a very low voice.

“Yes,” I reassured. “You will come again tomorrow night, right?” I asked him.

He slowly faced me, and nodded. “Of course,” he said.

“I’ll be waiting then,” I said. He nodded again, but he was a little shy this time.

“You’re not mad?” he asked.

“Of what?” I asked back in confusion.

“Of what I said?” he reaffirmed. “Did I say too much?”

“No,” I reassured him. “You were just expressing your own opinion,” I said.

Libulan faintly smiled. “Thank you, Sidapa,” he uttered.

After that, I accompanied Libulan at the edge of the cliff. It was time for him to go home because daylight was about to come. He got me so accustomed to his presence every night that it subconsciously became natural for me to wait for him until evening came again.

I watched Libulan gracefully ascend back to the heavens. He smiled at me all the way until he slowly vanished in the clouds. And when he was already nowhere to be seen, only then I would gently smile-happy that I spent time with him.

?to be continued」