Punay's smirk reached him faster than her foot did.
He knew exactly what she wanted to do: throw him into the water. The issue is in the how. Dodging was risky. If he moved wrong, she might fall way too close to the stone tower and instead of hitting water, she might hit the carved steps. Yet staying put meant enduring whatever pain that smirk promised.
She came at him fast.
He saw the jump a heartbeat before it happened. Understanding that she will probably kick him to the water, he jumps a little as well, turning into the fetal position mid jump in anticipation of the impact from Punay's two feet kick.
He twisted his body, angling his side to receive the blow.
The kick landed, sharp and decisive, and he was sent soaring. As he flew, he snapped his gaze downward, making sure he wouldn't collide with the struggling children below. Satisfied, he straightened his body in one smooth motion and committed to the fall, arms extended forward, legs straight behind.
The sea swallowed him before he could even complete his form.
He opened his eyes underwater despite the sting, fighting the burn as he tried to orient himself. Darkness yawned beneath him. He angled upward at once and began to kick, body angled straight as his powerful kicks drove him back toward the surface.
He broke the surface gasping, lungs burning, ears ringing. He flailed once, twice, then forced himself to float, heart hammering so hard it felt like it might punch through his ribs.
'You'd think a woman her age would be less childish. But she is acting like a 9 year old.' Internally sighing, he continued to rub water out of his face.
Above him, chaos continued.
Punay didn't hesitate after Evan was gone. She vaulted the edge herself, a solid, compact shape dropping feet-first into the water with a splash far heavier than her size suggested. She surfaced almost immediately, hair plastered to her face, already swimming with powerful, efficient strokes toward the nearest struggling child.
The warriors followed.
One by one, then in pairs, they leapt from the platform. Spears were cast aside. Experienced forms that some barely broke the surface as they dove. They moved toward flailing children, hauling them upright, barking sharp instructions over the noise.
"Kick!"
"Breathe!"
"Hold onto me!"
Hands closed around small wrists. Children were drawn against broad chests, held steady until panic loosened its grip. What moments ago had been a terrifying story became a terrifying reality. Then, slowly, transformed into something else almost familial.
The water churned with motion: dark heads bobbing, arms slicing, warriors shouting, children crying. The tide lapped close to the stone tower now, rising just enough that the cliff loomed less like a wall and more like a ledge.
With the warriors' strong hands supporting them, the children who had once flailed in blind fear now moved more carefully, experimentally mimicking the motions the warriors demonstrated. Fear softened into focus, and chaos into something almost like play.
Evan floated there amid it all, memories rising unbidden. Family vacations by the beach or a pool, nothing as surreal as this vast underwater cavern. Uncles hoisting squealing children onto their shoulders, cousins racing each other to see who could swim the fastest or dive the deepest. Some adults simply drifted nearby, bodies relaxed, voices low and unhurried. Add a battered karaoke machine on the shore and a shirtless uncle tending a grill loaded with tilapia and liempo, and it would feel less like a training camp and more like a family reunion.
He knew it wasn't meant to be leisure. They had come here to train. The journey had been hard. Long hours of rowing, the waves fought them at every turn especially at the ocean. But now, suspended in the water, it feels almost like a vacation.
'This training camp isn't shaping up the way I expected. A single day per skill? There's no way anyone truly mastered the blowgun in one afternoon. Even my spear mastery barely scraped level five after all that effort. And no one's died yet. Injured, sure. Bruises, aches, a few hard knocks, burning muscles, but nothing fatal. If this were Sparta, half these kids would've been dead before sunset on the first day."
"I hate to jinx it, but so far it has been… easy. Almost relaxed. Half a week in, and it felt strangely chill, boring, even. Definitely not the brutal "training camp" I'd been bracing himself for.'
Evan floated there amid it all, memories of family vacations rising to the surface. Uncles lifting little ones in the water, children competing over who could swim the fastest or dive the deepest. A few adults simply drifted nearby, floating and talking, voices easy and unstrained. Add a karaoke machine on the shore, an uncle grilling tilapia and liempo, and it would be no different from a modern Filipino family reunion.
Food was passed around in woven baskets and folded leaves. Dried fish warmed over the fire until it softened and flaked beneath eager fingers. Bananas were peeled and shared, their sweetness cutting through the salt. Rice cakes wrapped in pandan leaves were unrolled and broken apart, faintly sweet, faintly sour, the leaves lending a clean, grassy scent. Coconuts were cut open by some warriors and passed around for everyone.
As Evan ate, his attention drifted to Alunay. She sat cross-legged beside the Datu, posture relaxed but alert. His thoughts slipped back to their brief exchange in the water. A praise, then a question, delivered before she returned to her duties as if nothing had happened.
"That was a good reaction. And that dive was perfect" she'd gushed, almost like an excited school girl.
He didn't know how to respond. A nervous chuckle had escaped him instead, which seemed to amuse her.
"Is your village near the ocean?" She followed up in the same gushing tone but her eyes seem to be boring straight into his soul looking for answers.
He'd answered yes. His actual apartment in Makati was nowhere near the ocean but Manila is near the ocean. Close enough, anyway.
'Damn' he thought now, chewing slowly. 'She's observant. Compliment first, question second. Disarming. A little scary. Pretty, petite, utterly self-possessed, and frighteningly competent. The kind of woman who wouldn't have spared him a second glance before.'
Now, though?
He grimaced inwardly. 'Now I'm some strange foreign curiosity. An afam dropped into their world. Seemingly important enough that the Datu handed me slaves like party favors.'
'I hope they don't kill me once they figure out I'm not really very useful. Worst thing they do to broke afams is ghost them right?' He consoled himself 'We didn't really have a culture of killing useless people. The proliferation of tambays in modern Philippines means we are generally accepting of useless people. I just hope my nowcestors are as well.'
His self-deprecation is interrupted when a young boy plops to sit down beside him.
"My name's Edur," the boy said around a mouthful of heated dried fish. "But after the ceremony, I'll get a real name." His eyes shone as he spoke. "Maybe something cool. Like Ironjaw. Or Wave-Splitter."
Evan smiled awkwardly. "That's… yeah. Cool." He took a bite of fish, realized he spoke in English, then hurriedly added, "Better than Aso, for sure."
The boy burst out laughing, sharp and unrestrained. He realized this was the same boy he shot with the clay pellets a few days before. A lot more boisterous and the red welts no longer marred his skin, but the same boy.
The boy kept talking, and for a while, he let himself relax, the laughter doing more to calm him than any excuses he could ever make could have.
After some time, the Datu rose and told them to prepare to leave. The waves would settle soon. They will return tomorrow.
As the warriors scrambled around gathering the leftovers back into the baskets, Evan saw his chance and stood around. He glanced around. No one was watching.
Instead of food, his attention drifted to the remaining bits of guano on the floor. Holding the top half of his cut coconut, he crouched and used it like a scoop.
Moving quickly, he scooped two modest clumps into his coconut shell. He tied them together with a strip of fiber and held them.
"You know that's bat poop, right?"
He nearly jumped out of his skin as Alunay stood behind him.
She stood a few steps away, arms crossed, one brow raised. Her expression hovered somewhere between amusement and disbelief. He towered over her, around a head's length by his estimation but the balance of presence is entirely reversed.
"Uhhhhh" Evan hesitated, then sighed. "It can be good for crops. It helps things grow."
She snorted softly, more amused than impressed. "I know." She tilted her head, studying the coconut shells in his hands. "But could you do that every day until the full moon comes back? Again and again?"
Her lips curved, not unkind, but confident. "You would need far more than that if you wished the fields to truly change."
She continued, her tone slipping into something almost instructional. "Work the soil well. Turn it deep. Let the spirits send the rains." She gestured vaguely toward the cavern roof, toward sky and unseen gods alike. "That is how fields are fed."
She shook her head, lips twitching in quiet amusement, then turned away and walked off, leaving him alone with his contraband and his thoughts.
As she went, he caught her muttering under her breath, just loud enough to hear:
"What a strange man… the knowledge of a sage and a child, combined."
'Still taking it' he decided. 'At least we can still try to play with fire.'