On the third morning, the mist parted to reveal Miguel standing at the base of the balete tree—his eyes clear and bright, his posture tall and steady. The village fell silent as he walked toward Lola Sabel.
"The ancestors spoke to me," he said, his voice carrying across the clearing. "They asked me: 'What is the purpose of power?'"
"And what did you answer?" Lola Sabel asked.
"I said: 'Power exists to protect balance—to lift up those who cannot stand, to heal what is broken, and to guide all life toward renewal.'"
A murmur of approval ran through the crowd as Lola Sabel smiled. She gestured for Amihan to bring forward a long blade carved from balete wood, its handle wrapped in red cloth.
"This is the Binangon ng Pag-asa—the Blade of Hope," she said, handing it to him. "It will not harm the innocent, but it will stand strong against corruption. Your training has only just begun—you must learn all stages of cultivation before the end comes."
"I don't know if I can do this," Miguel said, gripping the blade.
"You already are," Amihan said, placing a hand on his arm. "We will teach you everything we know. But first, you must go out into the world—find other Aswang, find humans who will listen, build the alliance the prophecy speaks of."
Lola Sabel placed her hand on his shoulder. "The world's end draws near, child. It is time to begin your work."