Purged, an Excerpt

-Well, sometimes, a writer has to try something like this. Especially a romance writer. Please don't read if you're under eighteen. No, if you're under twenty-one. Otherwise, read on. (There's more in a folder, haha.)-

WHEN Izzie entered the bus, she was trying to hide her face from anyone who might see that she’s barely managing to get herself together. As she held on to seats on the isle to get to an empty one at the back she was also catching her breath. It was difficult, for what she really wanted to do was sit down in a corner and bawl—something she could only do at home in the corner of the bath. And home right now seemed the farthest thing on earth!

She trudged on until she found her seat, dropping heavily while clutching herself because of the cold that persisted in spite of her coat. She looked out the window and saw the rain. I could have stayed out there, my tears wouldn’t be seen, she bleakly thought. But as shocked as she was, the sensible part of her still reigned. She couldn’t cry in public. She just couldn’t. Even when at the moment, she couldn’t honestly tell if the moisture on her face were raindrops or tears.

The bus started to move. She could now see the buildings but when she closed her eyes, there was the one massive building with the gray front there--her work place. She wasn’t supposed to be here today. She was supposed to be on site of an intricate project with a billionaire’s clubhouse that she designed. It finished early and unexpectedly today and she went back to the office in the pretense of getting something from her desk but really to surprise her boyfriend. When she went to his office, she was the one who got surprised.

No. She got the shock of her life.

Her eyes closed tightly as if unwilling to let the image inside of her skull even when she knew it was impossible. The throbbing inside of her chest magnified the pain. It was physical, a real thing, solid and tight inside of her throat. There was Troy with his pants down, the legs of his secretary straddling him in place as he banged and grinded himself to her. She was rooted to the spot in shock while the sounds they made scandalized her to the roots of her hair. Troy himself was making these guttural sounds that she has never heard from him before, and everything was so ugly and so horrible that before she knew it, she was finally able to run away. Her lips trembled with anger and betrayal as she gulped another breath. But she couldn’t push the pain as well as the thought away.

Not any longer.

It was true. He wasn’t satisfied with her. The insecurity that she felt wasn’t conjured out of thin air. The way they fucked… fuck him!

They had made love… sex, she corrected now, angrily, because how could that be love-making when he clearly didn’t sincerely love her? They had not had sex like that.. the way he did with his bitch of a secretary. Not that she liked it that way. Or maybe, just maybe, with the right person… her face flamed. But she knew that she would. She could. She was ready to abandon herself and tell him it was alright. He always seemed too careful with her. She thought it was love. She thought they were just waiting for things to develop between them. Although, she felt, four months of going out seemed too long now for passion to show it’s fiery head.

Wasn’t it?

He’d complained she’s too sensitive and too fragile when she started to open the subject the last time they were together. Too fragile, my ass! She knew she was little at five-five compared to his height. He’s six feet tall, handsome and athletic. And yes, she’s a little shy, growing up in Virginia with her quiet, creative, single mom--one of the best nerds in town. She hadn’t had a lot of boyfriends. Her first experience with sex wasn’t even, well, something to rave about. She felt her face flush again with anger. Troy was her second boyfriend. She had been too busy studying in the university and men generally were not that interested. True, she wasn’t ugly. She was beautiful, according to her mom and sarcastically, because she also believed she was deliberately trying to hide it. Well, she knew she could be beautiful if she want it—she’s an artist and she knew. But there wasn’t time to fix herself in a way that would attract boys. Even if there was, she wasn’t sure she could handle the consequences that would incur to her studies because at the time, that was all that mattered.

Now, she’s here in New York. Her Uncle Mark, second cousin to her mom, brought her here and put her in a key position in his firm as soon as she finished Architecture as a summa cum laude (much to his delight) so she could work for him. And probably because he wanted to keep an eye on her and make sure she’s taken care of. He could be arrogantly over-protective, the lovable fool. She went excitedly and, admittedly, because she was so grateful for he was the one who’d helped her mom with financing her studies, not even listening when they talked to him about student loans. He was rich and he has no children. He considered her one, so she better act like one or it would be the greatest rejection anyone could ever give him. This was an exaggeration because all of them knew she would rather die than hurt her Uncle Mark.

So she moved here a year ago, being adamant about having her own place. She was still shy, and the fact that she did not go through the same process as other employees built a wall between her and the others. Troy was the first to approach her, made friends with her. Pretty soon, they were together. That seemed to make her more the pariah among the people in her department. They were the only people she had the guts to talk to, and only in context of work, projects shared, and professionalism. Now there was noone. That was the pathetic situation of her social life. She knew her job very well, though, and was good at it. They may not want her but a few months working here had proved to them the point of why she was here in the first place.

Her eyes watered when she thought of telling Uncle Marc she would resign. Oh, he wouldn’t let her. He would demand an explanation. There was no way that Troy would not be implicated. He knew about him. He said nothing in way of disapproval, but he respected her private life that way. At most, he was civil to him. But she could not be sure what he could do now if he knew.

Oh my God, she thought as something occured to her. Did Uncle Mark suspected Troy's intentions? Was that why he was bland to him? Because he suspected she might get hurt? Did he suspect that maybe…

That maybe Troy only wanted her because she was related to the owner of the firm.

The way she had suspected before but never let herself believe.

Which she did now, of course, she sarcastically thought.

Another wave of anger washed over Izzie coupled with helplessness and the now familiar bitterness. And worthlessness. She really thought Troy was the perfect man. How could he do this? What did she do to deserve this? With her first boyfriend Jerry, she thought they just wasn’t compatible sexually. But he said she wasn’t enough for him because her head hadn’t been in the deed. She was thinking of her books while he was coming, he’d accused. They parted ways amicably enough. Although she’d been hurt because she really tried to make it work, she soon got over it. Maybe because of the tiny part about her not really enjoying their time in bed.

After that experience, she shouldn’t have placed too much trust in her relationship with Troy. It was too good to be true. She saw the image in her head again, the wild abandonment that she'd caught in his office, and she stared out the bus window in confusion. She would not let Troy take her like that when there’s a bed… no, the bed wasn’t the problem, she corrected while her cheeks burned yet again.  He could take her lying on a haystack and she wouldn’t care. She came here to tell him that. She was too happy about the success of her latest project and she wanted to share the buzz. She wanted to tell him she loved him and she’s now ready for adventure. That she would let him guide the way.

And that’s how she found him. Her jaws were clenched so tight she knew they would hurt for a long time. But she was too angry to care. She knew her heart would hurt much longer.

Bitterness was a bile she had to swallow. She thought he was different. She heard men at work contesting each other about their sexual prowess. Sometimes she felt they were silently making an expense of her naivete. Troy was the only one—Oh, damn them all! The truth was she has no friends at work because men were jealous of her talent, especially that her designs had been picked over and over their designs, even when they had been working there for years. While women at work were competitive idiots and would knife each other on the back at every opportunity. Hadn’t she heard the callous backstabbing every time she got stranded in a cubicle when Ellie enters the office restroom with her minions? Hadn’t she heard the nasty words about her from their lips? Troy was the only…

The best actor in the lot, that was it. She didn’t need any other explanation. She was a trophy, she realized. The CEO’s favorite little niece. Too talented that noone would blindside her completely. He was the first who was able to put his hand to the pot prize.

She couldn't let him get away with it. She couldn't.

The same time she thought about getting back at Troy, he appeared.

The man. He was handsome, squared jawed with brown eyes and tawny hair. He was sexy in a tall, lean and solid way, wearing rugged clothes that hugged his body in a way that looked really good. She’d seen him several times before when she boarded the bus, usually in the morning going to work. He stood there, looking at the empty space beside her but only infinitesimally. His gaze immediately went back to her face. She felt horror at what he must see there.

“Can I sit here?” he asked carefully. It’s a free seat, of course. But he asked because of what he’d surely seen.

She nodded, hid her face from his searching look by turning to the window and to the rain again.

She felt him seating beside her. She felt heat radiating from him and she was surprised. He was good-looking, she thought. Yes, he was that handsome, or she wouldn’t even notice it again in the midst of what she’s going through right now. He had tattoos, she remembered that summer he rode the bus and he wore a black t-shirt, his jacket slung carelessly in his bag, five-o’clock shadow on his jaw making him look sexier. A kind of hell-raiser. She remembered how she’d wistfully thought of someone like him noticing her. She laughed at herself then. Smoky eyes, that was what had made her notice him in the beginning. The had shared a seat before, she remembered. But she was sure he hadn’t remembered that. Or that he’d even noticed her.

Then Troy happened and there was no other chance she’d thought about the stranger that way even when she kept seeing him again. When she and Troy started making out, even more. When they started making love, everything was rose-tinged. She’s in love with him, and it did not matter that they sometimes would make an awkward sex, especially in the beginning, before she learned what to do.  But she had felt something was wrong. Although he still displayed the same libido in bed, there was something missing. She was afraid that he was getting bored. That’s why she wanted to surprise him. She wanted to be spontaneous because she’d read that men liked that. Maybe she had not pictured herself being his lunch over his desk, she thought with shame in her heart. But if that’s what he wanted she could have…

No, she really wasn’t sure she would. She suddenly felt confused. Why not on his desk? How many orgasms had she faked just to make sure he would be happy? That he would be satisfied?

Tears finally flowed down her cheeks, the warmth in contrast to the cold. She didn’t make any move to wipe it. She didn’t want the man to see the movement. A lost cause, she realized, because a moment later, a handkerchief was being offered just a few inches from her face.

She gulped again, staring at the cloth. Her lips trembling.

“Better take it,” he whispered in a gentle voice. “It’s already flooding outside. We don’t want to flood in here, too.”

She took what’s offered as she quickly threw a glance at him. The compassionate look on his handsome face made her feel more ashamed. She wiped her face but the stupid tears kept falling. Worse, she had to pin the handkerchief to her mouth because—horror of all horrors!—sobs were starting to come out. She must be making him uncomfortable. Oh, stop it, AIzzienna!

“Hey… hey… what’s wrong? What do you want me to do? Can I help you?”

She stared at him now. It’s stupid trying to hide it. She has to get out of there. How? He looked really concerned. Not uncomfortable. Or embarrassed of his luck taking a seat beside a lunatic. She gulped another sob and she tried shaking her head to say no. But it was like a dam that has broken. More tears and giant sobs kept coming. She could just imagine other people on the bus staring!

He was starting to look uncomfortable. He looked towards the front, then at her again. “Next stop’s mine,” he said, and she thought he’d said that in relief because he was going to get rid of her at last. And she nodded, then felt horrible because now his handkerchief was wet. How was she going to give it back to him if it was wet?

“I can’t leave you like this,” he groaned, as if he was weighing a sack of  corn on his head. And she started to nod to tell him it’s okay but could she keep the handkerchief? The bus started to slow. Then his hand held her bag, his other hand her wrist. “Come with me. Let’s have coffee. I can make a mean cappuccino in my apartment’s kitchen.”

She abruptly stopped sobbing, looking at him in stunned surprise.

He smiled. “Yeah, I get that all the time,” he said. Maybe about her dumbstruck expression. “You’ll be safe with me,” he promised on a more serious tone.

What’s more strange, she believed him. No other reason. She just did.

And the next thing she knew, her bag’s straps were on his shoulders as he led her like a child out of the bus.

“I CAUGHT my boyfriend having sex with his secretary,” Izzie confessed dully as she sat on a stool in his breakfast table with the promised cappuccino from a ready-to-mix sachet. Her cloak and her bag were unceremoniously dumped in a corner of his living room. Crying has made her tired. And exhaustion and the aftereffects of shock was preventing her from thinking that she was on a stranger’s house, drinking his coffee, watching him as he made sandwiches from things inside of his fridge.

Crap. No, not exhaustion. She suddenly realized she liked watching him work in his kitchen. He moved with ease and so much confidence that it was mesmerizing. That he was handsome, tall and graceful for a man also helped. He glanced at her, inclined his head for a moment then nodded at what she’d confessed. As if that explained everything.

But that wasn’t everything. “What’s wrong with me?” Her whole face felt hot but it wasn’t just because of shame. It’s also because of anger. “Why cant I just be enough?”

He turned and brought the sandwiches to the table. “Hey. Can you hear what you’re saying?” he chided as he placed one of the plates infront of her. “It wasn’t your fault. Now, eat.”

She looked at him and got a little distracted. “Are you gay?” she asked carelessly. She’d heard in college that some gay looked more men than real men. Well, this man looked more manly than men she knew. And he seemed to be very competent on feeding women. Or, maybe she looked like someone needing feeding. A lost kitten?

He scowled. “No. Not that I’m against that but… why’d you asked?”

She shook her head. “I just had to check. It wasn’t my fault?” She smiled.  It wasn’t a happy smile. It was a bitter smile. “Men do that all the time and it’s always a woman’s fault. They always complain they weren’t getting enough. That’s what Jerry said. He wasn’t getting enough from me.”

“I’m guessing Jerry’s the ex? Eat.” He nodded at her plate again.

She took the sandwich. The toast felt warm and she did feel hungry suddenly as she smelled the ham, cheese, slices of hard-boiled egg and cold slices of tomatoes and sliced pickles. She nodded after her first bite to answer him, and because the sandwich was good.

“Then Jerry—and Troy—are jerks. They said that to lay the blame on somebody else, preferably you because they weren’t man enough to carry the burden of their responsibilities to their commitment,” he said after gulping his first bite down with his coffee. “And you’re beautiful, you look desirable, and they’re stupid not to see that. So, eat more.” He was commanding, nodding at her sandwich seriously. She couldn’t help smiling.

“You must have many sisters. You seem not that fazed with crying binges,” she said embarrassingly before taking the next bite. Of course, she did not believe he found her desirable.

“Just one and she’s a mean little freak,” he said, now smiling. “Ten years old.”

“So you knew how to treat tantrums.”

He looked at her. “Yours wasn’t a tantrum. You were hurt. I knew how to be a friend,” he said gently.

“I-I didn’t even know your name,” she said shyly.

He laid the sandwich back on his plate and soberly clasped his hands below his chin. “It’s Dr. Phil.”

She laughed. He smiled more broadly. She felt heat coursing through her body towards a point just down her belly because of that smile, because of his eyes turning smokier.  And from there, liquid heat flowed through her veins to other body parts, making her feel a little electrified. It was a sexy smile. He’s got a sexy body, and she has no boyfriend anymore but she has something to prove.

And maybe, she wasn’t thinking. Or it was a rainy afternoon. Or because they were just into enough conversation to make her reckless without thinking of consequences. Now before she lose her nerve. What the hell.

“Will you please **** me?” It was the perfect word. ****. Mindless. Strangers. Careless. No caring.

Not love making. Not even sex... too easy a word. She wanted to forget. To be purged.

His eyebrows flew to his forehead. He was still smiling, though. He didn’t answer right away.

And she did loose her nerve in the next second. She dropped her eyes to her mug completely. “Never mind. I wasn’t thinking…” She stopped, raising her eyes in surprise. He was pushing his chair back as he started to get up. And the look on his eyes as he approached her… suddenly, her heart was racing like it had never raced before. “I-I—“

“Don’t talk. You’ll loose it before we even start,” he murmured in a rational tone in a deeper, sexier voice.

He took her hands and he helped her up. They came face to face. So near. She was waiting for fear to come. But all she could think of was that he smelled good, and that look of desire darkening his eyes felt like the most beautiful thing on earth. The warmth that she’d felt emanating from him on the bus was there, coupled with the heat of desire waking furiously from inside her in a way she has never felt before. Set aside all these, and what’s left is the knowledge that she wanted to get ****ed. Really ****ed. By him.

Right now.

“I’m warning you… you’re just looking for distraction,” he said.

She gulped. “Exactly what I need,” she admitted. She looked at him and heat on his eyes flared. Oh, what has she gotten into, her mind cried helplessly. “So much! Will you give it to me?”

His lips smiled with his smoky eyes. “Heck, yeah.”

A Look Inside Enchanted Daughters of the Ancient Fairy

I can't think of anything to share today so I'm letting you get a peek-see at one of my most faves of my muse's work which you (*big sigh*) haven't seen yet because (*big sigh again*) it's not coming out yet. Kasalanan ko kase. Procrastinator. Pasensya na po, tao lang. I love this as much as I love The Eagle and the Dove and Black Bureau Elites. The last I heard, it's going to be turned into a graphic novel, and will be printed into novella series if readers would want it later. But I'm not sure that's the last word on it, though. Big Boss Jhun might still change his mind.

I hope this little glimpse into the story will make you want to buy the series when it finally (sa wakas!) comes out.

Love the pic, dramatic. But it doesn't remind me of the sisters, the woman reminds me of Leica Soldita Malvado before she crossed the seas to get to the sisters. By the way, this came from Photobucket on dragon_koi's album, which is here. Also loved his (her?) other collections.

(Chapter Two of the first book of Soliel le Charme Encantara: The Hideous and the Beast)

ISA-ISANG BUMABA ANG MAGKAKAPATID mula sa lumang kotse na minamaneho ni Gregory.  Ang panganay na si Soliel ang nauna, sumunod ay si Guinevere.  Georgette was last, and she humped and gasped before she could get her fat self out of the car. 

Mula naman sa harapan ng kotse ay inaalalayan ni Gregory ang amo nito sa pagbaba sa frontseat.  It was their Lola Mertha, their father’s old aunt, who’d raised them since their parents’ death.  She was looking pale and tired at the age of one hundred three.  Binalikan ito ni Soliel at inalalayan hanggang sa makarating sila sa tabi ng mga kapatid na abala na sa pagtingala sa malaki at mataas nilang bahay.  

Halos sabay-sabay silang nag-angat ng tingin sa mataas at grandiyosong bahay.  Ito ang kanilang lumang tirahan.  Sa palagay ni Soliel hindi na naaalala pa ito ni Georgette dahil baby pa ito noong itinakas sila ng kanilang Mama seven years ago.  Si Guinevere naman, katutuntong pa lang ng three noon, at siya, five.  

Kapag nakakapagkwentuhan sila, nasasabi ni Guinevere na vague ang mga naaalala nito sa nakaraan.  But she could sometimes smell their mother’s perfume, or could here their father’s sweet rumble of a voice in her dreams.  

Pero siya, maraming nabawing mga alaala.  Pinagbasehan niya ang mga alaalang iyon ngayong nakatingala siya sa kanilang dating bahay.

Kakatwa ba na kahit ito pa rin ang bahay kung saan niya pinalipas ang unang limang taon ng kanyang buhay, parang iba ito sa kanyang naaalala?  It was looking cold standing alone, with the paint peeling off the walls.  Walang ilaw sa loob, nakatabing ang mga Spanish shades sa mga pinto sa ibabang palapag at ang mga drapes sa salas, tigil na tigil at mukhang gabukin.  

Sa ikalawang palapag at ikatlong palapag ay nakasara ang mga bintana, na parang determinado ang mga iyon na hindi ipakita sa kaswal na mga nagdaraan ang hitsura sa loob.  

Looking all the way up, the little rectangular window in the attic was tightly closed, too.

The whole house has an air of being uninhabited for a long time.  Maging ang mga damo sa lawn, napabayaan nang lumago.  Ang mga creeping vines nawalan na ng control sa paggapang ng mga iyon sa mga dingding at sa bakal na railing na nakapalibot sa bakuran.  Pero napangiti siya sa kanyang sarili nang makita niyang sa kabila ng mga damo sa paligid ay ang mga bulaklak ng rosas na nanatiling malulusog at namumukadkad.  

They were her mother’s roses.  What wrath Tita Leica must have endured when she couldn’t get rid of them in the thirteen years that she’d lived here.  

Nakadama siya ng pag-asa sa kanyang puso. Pakiramdam niya, katatapos lang niyang panoorin si Georgette sa napakaganda nitong pagsayaw.  Ahm, ‘yung normal na Georgette.  She couldn’t possibly dance the way she naturally could right now even if her life depended on it.

Habang patuloy sa pag-oobserba sa paligid ang kanyang dalawa pang mga kapatid, bumaling siya sa kanilang Lola Mertha.  “Ano sa palagay n’yo, Lola?  Kaya ba ‘to ng powers ko?” nanunudyo niyang tanong rito.

Nangingiting nag-angat ito ng tingin sa kanya.  “Magpatulong ka sa mga kapatid mo, Soliel.  Baka magkamali ka na naman at kung anu-anong bulutong ang tumubo sa ‘yong katawan.  Lalo kang papangit.”

Napakamot siya sa batok habang nagtatawanan ang kanyang mga kapatid.

She was ugly, true.  Hideously so.  Minsan nga, kapag hindi nakapaghanda ang makakikita sa kanya, nagugulat at natatakot.  May hinihimatay pa nga sa probinsya, e, kapag nagulat sa kanya sa bigla niyang pagsulpot sa gabi.  Mukha daw kasi siyang maligno.  Ganoon kaseryoso ang hitsura niya.

Considering na dahil sa magic kaya siya nagkaganoon, hindi na siya magtataka.  

Pero hindi ito ang tunay niyang hitsura.  Sa hatinggabi, pagpatak ng alas-dose, bumabalik ang kanyang tunay na anyo, ang taglay niyang kagandahan na nakapagpapapipi sa mga nakakikita, kaya napagkakamalan siyang engkantada.  Na hindi malayo dahil may dugo siyang engkantada.  

Noong unang panahon, iniluwal ng Inang Espirito ang unang una niyang lola.  At mula sa lola niyang ito, napamana sa sumunod na mga henerasyon ang biyaya nitong mahika.

She believed there were normal people thrown here and there through the thousands of years and so since their generation progressed.  Kaya halos wala nang natitira pang mahika nang maipanganak ang kanyang Mama.  Ang natira na lang ay ang mga naipamanang hindi pwedeng matanggal at natural na mga inklinasyon sa mahika ng mga tulad nila na para sa mga normal na tao ay kakaiba at nakakatakot pero sa mga engkantada ay anino na lamang ng kapangyarihang dati’y taglay ng kanilang mga ninuno. 

Pero ani Lola Mertha, dahil sa kanilang ama ay may taglay silang mga kapangyarihang mas higit pa sa taglay ng kanilang ina.  Mostly physical powers, Georgette called them.  They could make things move and obey them.  They could enchant people to do what they wanted them to do.  Virtually, a regular person was helpless to their powers.  Kaya lang may mga hindi nasusulat na mga batas sa mundo ng mahika na lubhang makapangyarihan.  Ang natural na mundo ay para sa mga tao lamang.  It would be unthinkable if people should learn about them.  Malaking responsibilidad ang nakaatang sa bawat isa na panatilihin ang balanse, at malaking kaparusahan ang nakalaan para sa mga susuway niyon.  

Pero isa sa pinakamahalagang pamana sa kanila mula sa angkan ng kanyang ina ay ang biyaya ng pag-asa, na sa makaisandaang taon, uusbong ang tatlong magkakapatid na Enchantresses sa linya ng mga Le Charme, at maghahatid ng pag-asa sa kasalukuyang mundo.

She was proud to say that she’s one of them, at taglay niya ang mahika ng kagandahan.  Pangalawa ang kanyang kapatid na si Guinevere, na taglay ang mahika ng awit.  At ikatlo ay ang kanilang bunsong si Georgette, na taglay ang mahika ng sayaw.  

Sa pamamagitan ng kanyang ganda, magagawa niyang mapukaw ang kagandahan sa puso ng isang tao—kung merong matatagpuan.  Walang magagawa kahit ang pinakamakapangyarihang mahika kung walang taglay na pagmamahal—ang pinakamagandang damdamin—ang puso ng tao.  Nagagawa rin niyang maipaalala sa isang taong nakalimot ang kagandahan ng kalooban nito, sakaling nakalimutan na nito iyon sa pagsisikap na makaingos sa hirap ng buhay, o sa pagdadala ng tagumpay.  They call her gift ang Kagandahan ng Pagmamahal.  

Ang magandang tinig naman ni Guinevere ay nagagawang alisin ang galit sa puso ng mga taong nag-iibigan para magkasundong muli at makapagsimula ng panibagong buhay.  Ganoon kaimportante ang pag-ibig sa mundo ng mahika, kung kaya’t binigyan iyon ng malaking puwang ng Inang Ispiritu ng makalumang panahon.  Ang pagniniig ang paraang ginagamit ng Maykapal sa pagpaparami ng mga tao, pero kung kalakip ay tunay na pag-ibig, ang nabubuo ay mapagmahal na mga kaluluwa.  

Ayon sa prinsipyong ito, nagagawa ring papagtagpuin ni Guinevere ang dalawang taong tunay na nagmamahalan.  Ang tawag nila sa gift nito ay ang Tinig ng Pag-ibig.        

And Guinevere’s graceful and enchanting dance—when she’s not as fat as a baby whale—could bring hope to hopeless hearts.  Nagagawa nitong muling mapaniwala ang mga nawalan na ng pag-asa tungkol sa kagandahan ng buhay, tungol sa pagmamahal ng mga kapamilya at mga kaibigan, tungkol sa pagmamahal ng Maykapal.  Ang tawag nila sa gift nito ay ang Sayaw ng Pag-asa.  

And yes, the sister Enchantresses of those thousand years of before has had the same gifts bestowed on them through their mothers. 

Napatiim ang kanyang bagang nang maisip niya kung paano nagbuwis ng buhay ang kanyang mga magulang para sa kanilang pamana.  Naramdaman niya ang marahang tulak ng kanyang Lola Mertha.

“Kanina pa tayong nakatayo rito sa labas.  Oras na, Soliel.”

Sumulyap siya kay Gregory para maalalayan ang kanilang lola bago siya bumitiw rito.  Inabot niya ang kamay ng naghihintay na si Guinevere, na humawak sa kamay ni Georgette.  Agad niyang naramdaman ang lakas ng mahikang dumaloy sa kanilang mga katawan, na sa sandaling pagkakataon ay naramdaman niyang para silang iisa.  This feeling almost always made her skin tingle, her hair raise on her skin, and her heart beat faster in anticipation.  

The Power of Three, ang paborito niyang palabas sa TV.  The Charmed Ones.  Pero kung ang tatlong magkakapatid sa Charmed ay may taglay na mga kapangyarihang kayang bumago sa mundo sa isang global na estado sa pisikal na paraan, ang sa kanilang magkakapatid ay simple lang ang dalang mensahe—pag-ibig.  Pag-ibig sa kapwa, pag-ibig sa isang minamahal, pag-ibig sa buhay na pinakamagandang biyaya ng Dios na Maykapal sa lahat ng mga nabubuhay at mga hindi nabubuhay.

Right now, they’re only after getting back what was rightfully theirs, ang bahay na iniwan sa kanilang pangalan ng kanilang mga magulang.  Their father died after giving his guarding spell to the vessel using his own blood.  

Unfortunately, huli na bago nito natuklasan na alam na ni Tita Leica na silang tatlo ang tagapagmana ng biyaya mula sa Nunong Espirito.  Before her parents could thwart her again, she has murdered their father.

But their mother, being a part fairy, has powers that not even a powerful witch could know.  Sa tulong ng iba pang mga elementong kinikilala ang desperasyong mailigtas nito ang regalo ng Nunong Espiritu, naitago sila nito mula sa bruha at nagawang maibyahe noong gabing iyon nang hindi nasusundan.  Iyon ang dahilan kung paano sila nakaligtas.

But their mother was mortally wounded from trying to save her husband, and then trying to run away with her daughters.  Hinintay lang nitong maprotektahan sila ng isang kadugo ng kanilang ama, and she gave her spirit up to the gods.

“Ate Soliel…?” marahang tawag ni Georgette sa kanya.  Pinisil nito ang kanyang kamay.  At alam niyang alam nito ang kanyang pinagdaraanan ng mga sandaling iyon.  She was the oldest, she could still remember patches of that cold, rainy night. Ang namumutlang mukha ng kanilang ina… ang pag-ibig at kapayapaan sa mukha nito nang ipikit na nito ang mga mata…

Unti-unti niyang binitiwan ang emosyon na nagpapasikip ng kanyang dibdib.  It was getting easier now.  Lola Mertha has thought them to let love flow from the bottom of their hearts to the entirety of their beings.  That’s how they could fully use their gifts.

Marahan siyang tumango nang handa na ang kanyang puso.  Humigpit ang hawak niya sa kamay ni Guinevere.  Naramdaman niya ang gabay ng isipirito ni Georgette.

They bowed their heads, and murmured the cleansing spell.  Matagal na mga sandali, isa-isa nilang itinapon ang kamalasan, luha, poot, at mga sumpa sa buong propriedad.  Sa tagal ng mga taong itinigil dito ni Tita Leica, hindi siya nagtataka kung bakit nang matapos sila, nararamdaman niya ang matinding pagkalula at panghihina.

Hawak siya ni Guinevere nang magsalita ang kanilang Lola Mertha sa matigas na tinig.  “May natira pang isa.”  At napalingos silang tatlo rito, saka napahingal sa nakita.

Blood was trickling down one of her nostrils.  Hawak ito ni Gregory, inaalalayan.  She just knew, sa ginawa nilang paglilinis, tinulungan sila nito.

Napalapit sila sa matanda.  “Lola?”

“Anong gagawin namin?  Gagawa ba kami ng bagong spell, Lola Mertha?” nag-aalalang tanong ni Georgette.

Marahan itong umiling matapos mapahiran ni Guinevere ang dugo na tumulo mula sa ilong nito.  “Hindi na.  Hindi natin kailangan ng spell, dasal na lang.  At panahon.”

Napalunok siya.  Kilala niya ang tinging iyon sa mukha ng kanilang Lola. “Lola, may kinalaman ba ito sa sumpa sa ‘min ni Tita Leica?”     

Sandaling nagdaan ang murot sa matanda nitong mukha, saka ito tumango.  “Oo.  Mas makapangyarihan pa pala ito kaysa aking unang inakala.”  Bumuntunghininga ito.  “Pwede na tayong pumasok sa loob.  Kailangan kong maupo.  Doon na ako magpapaliwanag.”

Sukat doon ay parang bulak itong binuhat ni Gregory.  Ang dalawa ang unang umakyat sa marmol na mga baiting paakyat sa patio.

Sabay-sabay silang magkakapatid na humakbang palapit sa hagdanan.  Glancing up again before she reached the first step, she couldn’t help but notice—parang biglang umaliwalas ang paligid.  The house has a chirpy look over it, the lawn seemed greener.  Maging ang hangin ay nabuhay at nararamdaman nila ang pilya niyong pagsasayaw sa kanilang paligid.  Habang ang araw naman ay sumisilip sa pagitan ng madidilim na mga ulap para ngitian ang kanilang bakuran, gayong nananatili ang lilim at lamig sa ibang lugar.

The house was welcoming them.  Napangiti siya.

At kasabay ng kanyang ngiti ay ang pagbukas ng mga front doors nang kusa para papasukin silang lahat sa kalooban niyon.  

This is a short description of the story, and provides a little background:

Sisters Soliel, Guinevere and Georgette were witches. But that's where the simplicity ends. They were descended from the bloodline of a powerful witch fairy on their mother's side and of powerful witches and wizards from their father's side. Twice magically empowered, their third virtue was being the most powerful three sister enchantresses of their generation, and were most commonly known through the ages as the Three Witch Enchantresses that appeared as a gift from the Nunung Ispiritu every thousands of years. And, yep, they were meant to save the world.

In the sisters' generation also lived Leica Soldita Malvado, an evil, twisted witch who desired power more than anything else in the world, and have lived through many centuries eating up powers of powerful witches, looking for that most powerful of all powers--a legend. When she learned that the legend about the Enchantresses was true, she planned on destroying them after they were born so she could eat their power. which she was not able to do. Somehow and somewhere in this hullabaloo, Soliel, who posses the power of perfect beauty, was given the curse of having the most hideous appearance; Guinevere with the most powerful, beautiful singing voice the curse of an ugly voice that cause pain to those who hear; and Georgette was turned into an obese who was too heavy to dance without bringing the floor (or the house) down. Their parents died so they could live, but their protective spell could only protect them until they turn twenty-one, when any curse would be powerless in the manifestation of their mature power.

But there's a catch--Leica's curse can kill them that last moment of transition from twenty to twenty-one, when they're most vulnerable hanging from here to there. Unless--a hero so in love with them would give their lives up to save them from the curse.

From Book One, the sisters' journey began.

:)

Alberta, the Elemental

This was taken out of The Dancer and the Shapeshifter (Enchanted Daughters of the Ancient Fairy Book 3) for editing purposes (mine). But for some reason, I couldn't forget it. There's too little chance for Kathleen and Veronica to have come out in the series. And they deserve their time in the spotlight.

Hmm... thinking of making novellas out of them, Maciel...? Uh-oh. Kelan, after twenty years?!

You'll meet these characters when the story comes out... whenever PHR Big Boss Jhun deems so. But for now, I'm sharing this outtake with you.

SA MGA sandaling iyon, nasa isa ring lugar sina Kathleen, at nasa unahan siya ng grupo nila nina Lola Mertha, Veronica at Gregory na nasa likod. Nasa loob sila nang isang madilim na kweba.

Napakaimportante ng lakad na ito ni Lola Mertha. The sisters felt honored that they were the ones the old witch asked to accompany her beside Gregory. Mga bata pa sila, nagsasanay na silang dalawa na maging magaling na mga witch guards. Ang kanilang ama ay isang magiting na witch guard bago ito nakilala nang kanilang ina sa Roma. Nang umibig at nagpakasal ang dalawa, nabuhay ang mga ito nang tahimik sa San Bernardino, sa Pilipinas, na bansa nang kanilang ina.

Pero isang araw, muli itong bumalik sa Roma nang manganib ang buhay ng dating pinagsisilbihang dugong bughaw na humingi ng tulong sa tapat nitong mga alalay. Sa kasamaang palad, nagbuwis ang kanilang ama ng buhay sa pagsisilbi rito. Sa kabila ng kayamanang ipinagkaloob ng mga ito sa kanila at pagpupugay sa Roma sa kabayanihan ng kanilang Itay, mas gugustuhin pa rin ng magkapatid na sana ay lumaki silang kasama ito. Na sana, lumaki silang may ama. It was a barely voiced out desire, because honor and dying with it and for it was what a witch guard lived for.

Sa kabila nang lahat, ng lihim na inaasam ng kanilang mga puso, pinagbuti ng magkapatid na Kathleen at Veronica ang kanilang mga sarili para maipagmalaki sila nito, saan man ito naroroon ngayon, at mabigyan ng dagdag na karangalan ang pangalan nito.

Kaya sila nagpakapursigeng maging magaling at marunong na mga witches. Their skills had been further honed by accompanying the fairy witch sisters at night to help other people. Anuman ang mangyari ngayong gabi, desidido ang magkapatid na maging magaling ding witch guards na gaya ng kanilang ama. 

May isang oras halos na binagtas nila ang lagusan ng kweba. Hindi alam ni Kathleen kung nasaang parte na sila niyon, but they must be very deep. Malamig ang tigil na ere at bawat patak nang kanilang mga paa sa sahig ay nag-e-echo, dahilan kung bakit umusal si Veronica ng spell para tumahimik ang echo na iyon.

Mayamaya ay nagsalita si Lola.

“It’s alright, Kathleen. We’re here. Ako na'ng mauuna.”

Tumigil sila, pero kahit pa, alertong alerto si Kathleen. Kahit ipikit niya ang kanyang mga mata, nararamdaman niya bawat nilalang na humihinga sa dilim. Bawat kaluskos ay nagsasabi sa kanya kung nasaan ang mga ito. Bawat tibok ay nagsasabi kung ang kasama nila sa kwebang iyon ay hayop… o tao.

Walang ibang tao sa loob ng kweba maliban sa kanilang apat. But she did not let her guard down. She would not let Lola Mertha down.

Binalingan ni Lola Mertha si Gregory at kumilos ito. May inabot sa cave wall sa kanan nito. Sa sumunod na sandali ay napuno ng ilaw mula sa apoy na nabuhay sa sigang nakasuksok doon ang paligid. Naibaling ni Kathleen ang kanyang mga mata sa tabi gaya ni Veronica para iwasan iyon. Mabubulag silang muli sa dilim sa kanilang pagbagtas sa daan palabas kung pakatititigan nila iyon.

Narinig niya ang pagtawag ng tinig ni Lola Mertha, tinig na mababanaagan ng ngiti. “Alberta…!” Nagtataka, sumilip siya sa gilid nang kanyang mga mata. Walang kausap si Lola Mertha kundi ang cave wall.

Pero napamulagat si Kathleen nang mula sa batong dingding na iyon ay humiwalay ang isang hugis. Nakausling balikat, isang mabilog na balakang, noong malapad, at tungkod na mahaba…

Humiwalay sa dingding ang isang taong batong may hawak na tungkod! Sa harapan nila, unti-unti itong kuminis, nagmistulang casted bronze statue na nangingintab sa liwanag. Isang matandang babaeng statue, graceful kumilos, complete with robes!

May dimple pa sa pisngi nito noong ngumiti ito kay Lola Mertha. “Mahal kong kaibigan!”

Nagyakap ang dalawa.

Life's Lessons Are Gifts, 2nd chapter

And it's all because I contacted a humongous headache trying to put the first blog into my new gmail account because that's what's always open. It's what I always use, and trying to put in a post or two on my break would have been easier. But for some reason, I can't make my gmail account the primary email account on the first blog, and researching for WHY takes too much precious time that I needed for other matters. So, too many chances of blabbing and not being able to, and much chance of de-stressing gone with the wind.

And I can't make sense of why it was so hard, when it should have been so easy. Oh well.

So THAT is the reason for Life's Lesson's Are Gifts II. I'll be coming back for more updates. Even if at the beginning, I'm the only one reading myself.