Manila City is a blend of many things. High rise buildings hiding slums behind it, villages that smell of home, and of course, structures that bring a piece of history with them.

Within Manila lies another city encased in centuries old walls. As they may call it, the walled city of Intramuros. Taking a step through the gates made Yani feel like he was traveling back in time. He’s been here quite a few times, but the place never ceased to leave him in awe just from the unique architecture of establishments within it.

Some people might say that the place is a little Europe in Asia. But, for Yani, it’s more like a blend of the country’s stories. Before these designs, wooden Filipino houses are often raised from the ground in order to avoid wild animals. But now, due to Spanish influence, the top part is wooden, but the bottom half is no longer vacant—rather it is built with bricks as a place for horses, livestock, or farming materials. Many furnitures then are of American origin. As for the windows, the square patterns and thick paper-like covering are obviously inspired by eastern countries like China and Japan.

Walking on the cobblestone streets, and randomly seeing horse carriages, sometimes made Yani wonder what could have been if the country was never colonized to begin with. He glanced at Kris who was walking ahead of him wearing a full pre-colonial attire. If that does happen, I guess I’ll have to dress like that too. Yani pictured himself in a colorful traditional fit, and immediately shook his head. I think I’m allergic to color, no way. He stared at his sleeves—trying to compare his and Yani’s aesthetic. It was too far off, to say the least. Because right now, he’s wearing a casual black cloak, black ripped jeans, black leather boots, black leather belt, silver rings, and a silver cross necklace. But I wonder…

“What are you daydreaming about?” Kris walked backwards after realizing how slow Yani was.

“Can I borrow one of your patadyong?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“Absolutely not. What would you even use it for?”

“Check if I’d look good as a femboy.” 

“I’m not a femboy.”

“I never said you were. But…” Yani observed Kris’s whole appearance.

“Don’t even say it.”

“Why? You have something against femboys, huh? Are you a Republican?”

“Firstly, we’re not Americans. Second, I’m progressive. I just dislike how that term is either fetishized or used in a degrading manner.”

“What are you, then?”

“...”

“A pretty boy?”

Kris stopped walking and held his head low—hiding his flushed and embarrassed face. “Don’t call me that.”

Yani smirked—seeing how flustered the latter was. “A cute boy?”

“Shut up.”

“A beautiful bo-?”

“SHUT UP!” Kris pushed Yani’s shoulder, not too harsh, then began stomping ahead while rambling to himself, “Stupid! Annoying! Procrastinator! Got a three in a major subject!”

Yani was a bit stunned from the push, but then he smiled and chuckled to himself while watching Kris stomp away like a mad cat. Cute. “Wait up!”

From all of those stomps, it eventually led them to yet another traditional building. It had a government emblem on its door, and a plaque stating, “National Commission on Indigenous Peoples.”

“What are we doing here again?”

Kris faced Yani, and pulled him down from his ear. “Listen carefully.”

Yani nodded, “Ok”

“Today, we’re entering the NCIP because I’m a Hiligaynon from Negros, and an indigenous person asking for directions in Manila. You are my classmate who’s here to accompany me. Got it?”

“Got it.”

Just when Yani was prepared to enter through the entrance, Kris went behind the bushes beside the building. Then, Yani was met with a back door entrance—hidden from public view. The place seemed sketchy for him, so he took a gulp. Kris isn’t going to kill me, right? But if he does, I hope I make it into an occult documentary! Maybe he’s a vampire? Suck my blood!

Kris opened the door, but to Yani’s disappointment, it was just a simple building with a government office layout. White halls, wooden doors, and the smell of air conditioning. What’s different, however, is that at the boundary of the hall was a massive square space—fitting for a ballroom. 

Yani was wrong. It wasn’t made for dancing.

In almost an instant, that sense of normalcy disappeared.

Inches away from his face, a flying dagger flew across the room—not giving him any time to react. Then, he heard that dagger clink with another piece of metal. To his left peripheral vision, he saw a coily haired dark skinned man. He was only wearing a tanker top, and Yani could very much see how muscular that man in an afro looked. To Yani’s confusion, this man was holding… a sword? But for some reason, the sword was squiggly and not straight like the usual. To his right peripheral vision, he saw another coily haired dark skinned man, but this one wore his long hair in a bun. The man to his right jumped right across the room with full power, and tried to tackle down the one on the left. When he couldn’t do so, he took the dagger on the floor and began having a sword fight with the latter.

Yani thought that this was the craziest scene he could sight watch for the day. But my, he was wrong. From behind him and Kris, a mestiza-looking girl in a bob cut walked calmly and slowly while carving something on a brick-sized block of wood. Then, she whispered, “Spirits guide me. My creation, come to life!” When the girl threw the carving to the floor, it began growing… and growing… WHAT IS THAT?!

The wood carving is now human-sized. It looked like a statue of a knight, and it even held a wooden sword. The two dark skinned men looked at each other and smirked while hinting something only they could understand. Then, they both attacked the wooden figure together—sparring with it like there’s no tomorrow.

Everything happened so fast. With a blink of an eye, Yani found the two men on the floor—obliterated by the wooden knight. The girl who defeated them scoffed nonchalantly before walking back to the halls.

Yani couldn’t speak—too astonished by the events. 

“You two, how many times have I said that you shouldn’t waste your energy?” Kris crossed his arms while scolding the boys.

“It’s sparring!” The one with a bun explained.

“Yup, yup!” The one in an afro followed.

Kris shook his head and held his hands on his hips, “Whatever you say. Go wash up.”

“Yes, sir!” They chanted together and ran back to the hallway.

“Wha-? Ah-?” Yani pointed at the boys, the sparring room, and at Kris.

“This is a secret, ok? Remember that.”

Yani gulped, and nodded.

“Krissy!” A voice called out, and footsteps began pattering towards them. Before they could look in its direction, a tan woman with wavy hair jumped to Kris—her arms over his shoulders.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Oh? Who do we have here? We’re not allowed to take in strangers, Krissy!”

Seemingly used to it, Kris pulled away and stood beside Yani. “This is Yani, a mangkukulam.”

A pause.

“What?” The girl’s voice switched to a cold tone—eyeing Yani in a spine-chilling way.

“He’s my… friend.”

“Oh, really? Well, any friend of Krissy is a friend of mine too!” She jumped to Yani, and he couldn’t react at all from the pace of her switched expression. Does everything in this place happen so fast?

Kris cleared his throat, “Yani, this is Cielo. Cielo Asuncion. She’s the leader of the Baylanes Tagalog division.”

Cielo, still with her arms over Yani’s shoulder, followed. “Welcome, Yani! I’m a Catalonan. It’s like the Tagalog version of a Babaylan.” She chimed.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t follow. What exactly is the Baylanes? What is this place? What is going on? That wood was alive! Am I going crazy?”

Cielo chuckled and pulled away. “Ok, so… The Baylanes is basically a group of spiritual arts users from all over the Philippines. We’re a secret department of the NCIP, in charge of dealing with supernatural calamities. I’m from the Tagalog division, and Kris is from the Hiligaynon division. But right now, since he’s in Manila, he’s working with us.”

“Uhm… Like Momotaro Corporation in Tougen Anki?”

“Yup! Like the Demon Slayers too!”

Yani’s mouth displayed an “O” upon realizing. “So that’s why you tried to kill me when we first met!” He pointed at Kris in accusation.

“Kill you? Excuse me, but babaylanes are holistic! We don’t kill, we erase memories.”

“Tomato potato” Yani clicked his tongue.

Cielo chuckled at the two’s banter. “Well, to lessen your confusion, what you saw a while ago is my team’s sparring session. The two boys are what we call a Maharlika. The one in a bun was Isagani, and the one with the wavy sword was Rafael. They can’t use spiritual arts like us, but they have a sixth sense and can fight using their skills.”

Yani listened carefully—feeling like this would be an important lesson for the future, then commented, “For supernatural soldiers, you all are super young and around my age.” 

“You probably saw the wavy swords. Kris and his sister, Kalis, were actually named after those. A kris or kalis are special swords since they can multiply the wielder’s strength when we cast an enchantment on them.”

“What about the wooden thing? That wasn’t a robot, right?”

Cielo snorted and slapped Yani’s shoulder multiple times while at it. Ouch. Why do women hit when happy? “No, silly! That was Pauline’s skill. Each spiritual arts user can study and learn multiple skills, but they can only master one and be mediocre at the others. Her skill is called Likha. This skill allows anything she carves out or creates come to life.”

Yani looked at Kris, “So bugaw…?”

“Yup, that’s Kris’s special skill. It’s one of the very few skills that can directly be used for combat. You see, babaylanes are more like spiritual healers and protectors. Like me, for example. My skill is not meant for combat. That’s why we have the Maharlikas to protect us in times when fighting is necessary. But for Kris, he can do it alone.”

Kris stepped into the conversation, “Speaking of skills, Cielo, that’s why I brought Yani here.”

“Hm?”

“Remember that mambabarang I told you about? We can catch her with Yani’s help.”

“How?”

“His skill is special. A seventh sense.”

“Seventh? I’ve never heard of that before.”

Kris eyed Yani for him to explain. “Uh, right. My skill allows me to see into the person’s past. It’s not necessarily memories—but more like what happened to their surroundings directly. It also works on objects.

“Hm, interesting.” Cielo nodded. “That would definitely help.”

“Also,” Kris added, “Have you been in contact with any albularyo lately? I thought that maybe they could help.”

“Nah, you know those guys. They stick to their own processes.” Cielo shrugged.

Yani tilted his head, “I’ve been meaning to ask… If mangkukulams came from babaylanes, are albularyos the same?”

Cielo nodded, “Albularyos are basically babaylanes, but they relate to the healing from Catholicism, plus they have special metal charms called an anting-anting. Babaylanes have charms too, just not related to Christianity.”

“Got it, thanks.”

“We’re getting side tracked.” Kris sighed. “What should we do about the mambabarang?”

Cielo clicked her fingers. “I already have a plan!”

Kris smiled, “Of course you do, team leader.”

The girl nodded her head, proud of herself, then pointed at Yani. “You, locate the mambabarang.”

“And you three” She pointed at the three aforementioned individuals who just entered the room. “are coming with us.”

Lastly, pointed at Kris. “And you’ll be driving.”