{"id":5638,"date":"2020-02-21T20:49:58","date_gmt":"2020-02-21T12:49:58","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.benjamincheah.com\/?p=5638"},"modified":"2020-02-21T20:49:58","modified_gmt":"2020-02-21T12:49:58","slug":"bayani-part-2","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/?p=5638","title":{"rendered":"Bayani Part 2"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
\"Archer,<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Bayani may be a man now, but the world had not changed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

His mother, Tula, still awoke him the way she normally\ndid, prodding him with fingers and feet and a raised voice until he rolled off\nhis bamboo mat with a groan. Getting to his feet, he tested his right arm. It\nwas stiff. An ugly purple bruise spread across his inner biceps. But it could\nhave been worse. Maestro taught that blades seek flesh and sticks seek bone. A\nproperly executed stick strike could have shattered his elbow.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The healers had given him a poultice to aid recovery.\nHe pressed the soft lump against the bruise, letting the mashed herbs within\nsoak his flesh, and followed his mother out the hut. Just before he walked out\nthe door, she glanced at him and said, \u201cForgot something, Bayani?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The ginunting. <\/em>Right.\n<\/p>\n\n\n\n

His brain was still foggy. As soon as the celebrations\nwere over, he\u2019d crashed on his mat and slept dreamlessly through the night.\nBayani retrieved his father\u2019s sword, now his<\/em>\nsword, from where it rested and tucked it into his loincloth. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

The village women were preparing breakfast. Scraps of\nsalted fish for everyone, leftovers from last night\u2019s dinner. Most of the food\nwent to the nursing women and the children. Perla was serving, and with a smile\nshe handed him a palmful of fish. He savored it with several mouthfuls of well\nwater, then spent an uneventful hour with daily chores.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The village prepared for the weekly hunt. The\nchildren, those too young to venture into the jungle, went off to play and\nforage nearby, supervised by the elderly, the barren, the widows and the\npregnant. Everybody else, men and women alike, formed loose work parties. Bayani\nwandered through the chattering crowds until he found Perla, and together they\njoined the group Ligaya headed. The village headman, Romel Salazar, called\ntogether the team leaders, discussing areas of responsibility.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

As the women prepared supplies for the hunt, the men\npracticed. Alejandro gathered them at a stand of banana trees, which the\nvillage used both as a food source and as targets.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Conscious of the sword hanging by his side, Bayani took\nhis position at the shooting line. His bow seemed heavier than usual, the string\nharder to load. When the Maestro gave the go-ahead, the men loosed their arrows\ndownrange. Bayani took a little more time, adjusting his aim ever so slightly,\nand released.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The arrow described a short, beautiful curve straight\ninto the ground, well short of the target.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Stifling a curse, Bayani drew another arrow from his\nquiver and tried again. He raised his bow a little more, strained the bowstring\nfurther. But his hands betrayed him at the last moment. The bow wobbled. The\narrow wobbled. The projectile landed amongst the trees, lost to sight.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Behind him, the Maestro clucked his tongue. \u201cYou\u2019re\nshooting like a baby. <\/em>Even the women\nshoot better.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cMy arm, Maestro. I can\u2019t load the bow properly.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cIs that right? Draw your bow.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Bayani complied. <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cHold still.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Maestro walked around him, inspecting his form\nwith a critical eye. With rough, powerful hands, he guided Bayani into a more\nstable, efficient posture. Taking Bayani\u2019s right arm, he gently drew back. \u201cYou\nhave to pull harder,\u201d he urged.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Bayani did, drawing the arrow back further, further,\nuntil his fingers threatened to slip from the string. But the Maestro was here,\nand he didn\u2019t dare let him down. Bayani willed his fingers to turn to iron, his\nmuscles to stone. When the bowstring flexed as far as it could go, Alejandro\nstepped back and said, \u201cShoot.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Bayani shot. This time, the arrow thudded<\/em> into the banana tree.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cSee?\u201d Alejandro said, clapping Bayani\u2019s back. \u201cYou\ncan do it. You have to work past your weakness.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes Maestro.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Under the Maestro\u2019s watchful eye, Bayani loosed twelve\nmore shots. Eight connected. Not his worst, but nowhere near good enough.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYou have to do better,\u201d Alejandro said. \u201cThe village\ncould be counting on your shot.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI will, Maestro.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

The graying man\u2019s face tightened. \u201cNo more empty\npromises, Bayani. Our village is increasing, but food grows short and our\nstorehouses are empty. We have little left to trade with. If this hunt is\nunsuccessful, then as men we must do without.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Bayani nodded. For untold generations the tribe had\nhunted and foraged, trading the bounties of the jungle for lowland crops. But\nnow the headman was talking about abandoning their way of life, of starting\nfarms like the lowlanders. The ground here was not suitable for most crops; the\nclosest the village got to farming was exchanging labor at the lowland farms\nfor food. If they had to start a farm they needed to burn down the jungle that\nhad given them life. But if the jungle could no longer feed them, the old ways\nhad to go.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI understand.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

In the village square, the priest cleared a sacred\nspace. As his apprentices beat their drums, the holy man stamped his feet and\nraised his arms to the sky, offering prayers to the gods of the air and earth.\nAlejandro nudged Bayani towards them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cGo on, Bayani. Join them.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cWhat about you, Maestro?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cI speak to a different god. But perhaps these will\nlisten to you.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Bayani had heard that the Maestro had come from far\naway, settling in the village long before he was born, but Bayani had never\nactually heard much about his past. \u201cOh? What god is that?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Alejandro smiled. \u201cThat\u2019s a story for another time.\nNow go, you\u2019re needed there.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u201cYes Maestro.\u201d <\/p>\n\n\n\n

\"\"<\/figure>\n\n\n\n

Want more stories of steel, faith and fantasy? Check out Dungeon Samurai here<\/a>!<\/p>\n\n\n\n

Sign up on my mailing list here<\/a> to stay updated on my latest news and promotions!<\/p>\n\n\n



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Bayani may be a man now, but the world had not changed. His mother, Tula, still awoke him the way she normally did, prodding him with fingers and feet and a raised voice until he rolled off his bamboo mat with a groan. Getting to his feet, he tested his right arm. It was stiff. […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"om_disable_all_campaigns":false,"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"footnotes":""},"categories":[15],"tags":[69,136,143,208,253,306],"class_list":["post-5638","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-fiction","tag-bayani","tag-fantasy","tag-free-story","tag-martial-arts","tag-pulprev","tag-steempulp"],"aioseo_notices":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5638"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=5638"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5638\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=5638"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=5638"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/kitsuncheah.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=5638"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}