Chapter 26: Light in the Shadows
Chapter 26: Light in the Shadows
The dawn's first light bathed Plaridel in a promise of renewal, yet an undercurrent of tension lingered after Hustisya's recent clash in the town plaza. Spanish soldiers were devising stricter plans to apprehend her, while wealthy Spaniards sent covert letters to a mysterious figure in Plaridel. Meanwhile, in Georgia's humble home, the day began with unexpected revelations.
The next morning, Erik rose early, startling Georgia as she saw him preparing his belongings in the living room, the soft rays of sunrise barely peeking through the window. "Why are you up so early?" Georgia asked, her eyes still heavy with sleep but brimming with curiosity as she fixed her hair.
"I need to sell early to earn money," Erik replied, his voice resolute as he placed a small basket on the table. "More people buy in the morning, and I can't miss this chance to make enough for the day," he added.
Georgia, impressed by his diligence, smiled warmly, her heart touched by his determination. "You're so hardworking! You seem so experienced," she praised, her tone filled with admiration as she approached him. "I didn't expect you to be this dedicated, especially since you just moved here."
Erik explained that, having grown up as a farmer's son in Ifugao, survival demanded resourcefulness. "Back home, if you don't work early, you don't eat. I learned that from my father, who woke before dawn to plant," he said, his eyes tinged with sorrow yet shining with resilience. "We had no one to rely on but ourselves, so we had to be industrious."
Curious, Georgia asked, "What are you selling?" Her head tilted slightly, her interest piqued.
Erik shared that someone provided him with vegetables behind the church, though he couldn't reveal that Hiyas, a diwata, was the source. He accepted the goods without knowing whether they came from others or nature's magic, left with no choice but to sell them.
"I have wealthy friends who let me sell their products. After I sell, they give me a share of the profit—just enough for a day's meal and a little extra," he said, his faint smile masking a hint of secrecy.
Erik invited Georgia to join him in selling and split the earnings, his voice brimming with hope. "If you want, come with me, and we'll share the profits. It's easier together, and we might attract more buyers as a team," he said, his eyes sparkling with optimism as he adjusted his clothes.
Surprised by his offer, Georgia's heart raced. "Really? You're okay sharing your earnings?" she asked, her voice laced with astonishment and slight hesitation.
"Of course," Erik replied, his smile radiating gratitude. "Thank you for helping me and letting me stay here temporarily. This is my way of giving back to your kind family."
They sought permission from Lola Maria, who, though slightly worried, gave her blessing, and they set off. Minutes later, behind the church, they found three boxes of fresh fish and vegetables neatly arranged on the ground. Georgia's eyes widened in shock. "Where did these come from? There's so much fish!" she exclaimed, pointing at the glistening catch in the morning light.
Hiyas was present, unseen and unheard by Georgia, who remained unaware that the diwata supplied the goods. Doubting their legitimacy, Georgia asked, "Erik, are you sure we can take these?" Her voice trembled with confusion.
Perched atop a box, Hiyas spoke softly but with authority, unheard by Georgia. "Stop asking where I get the fish and vegetables. Just be grateful I'm helping. What matters is you have food and goods to sell," she said.
Erik, trusting Hiyas wouldn't steal, could only comply. "She probably didn't steal these, but how did she get so much?" he whispered to himself, his face clouded with doubt.
Georgia pressed further, her hand resting on a box's edge. "Isn't it suspicious that someone would trust a kid with this much fish to sell?" she asked, her tone heavy with skepticism.
Erik reassured her, explaining his friend allowed it as long as they shared a portion of the earnings. "It's fine. We just give them a cut afterward. My friend and I already agreed on the split," he said, his confident smile easing her concerns.
Within hours, they rented a bicycle with a sidecar, carefully loading the boxes to avoid spills. Unable to sell in Plaridel's market due to the heavy Spanish police presence, they found a street spot instead. Georgia pleaded with other vendors to let them sell nearby, her smile sweet yet determined.
"May we sell here? Thank you!" she said, her voice earnest.
Fortunately, the vendors took pity on them and agreed. By noon, their wallets brimmed with coins and bills, having earned over three thousand pesos. Georgia beamed, thrilled that fish sold better than her usual flowers. "So many people want fish! This is easier than selling flowers," she said, her face alight with joy as she organized the remaining goods.
Encouraged, she shouted to passersby, "Fresh and affordable fish here! We've got fresh vegetables too!"
Erik, heartened by her enthusiasm, smiled. "You're so lively, full of energy," he said, his grin reflecting admiration as he helped sell.
They stopped early, cooking the unsold fish and vegetables for lunch and dinner, the aroma filling their small kitchen. As Erik cooked, Georgia praised his skill.
"You're amazing at cooking! Where did you learn this? You're like a chef," she said, her voice full of awe as she watched him slice vegetables.
She hesitated, asking, "Is it okay to cook the leftovers when you need to pay your friend?" Her face showed concern.
Erik smiled, explaining, "We can't return these, and we need to eat. Besides, I'm happy to cook for you all." His tone was warm as he placed fish in the pan.
While cooking, Erik tasted the dish, the warm broth kissing his lips. Unsure of the flavor, he offered Georgia a taste.
"Try this. What do you think? Maybe it needs more salt," he said, his face anxious.
Georgia savored it and praised him. "It's delicious! You're so good—you don't need more salt," she said, her eager smile returning the spoon.
That evening, as Erik sat in the living room, he saw Georgia slip out, her shadow faintly visible in the moonlight. He followed, asking softly,
"Where are you going?" His steps were cautious, filled with worry.
Unable to admit she was patrolling as Hustisya, Georgia deflected. "Just something I need to do. Go to sleep," she said, her face turning away.
As she moved to leave, Erik gently grabbed her hand, his fingers trembling. Startled, Georgia pulled away, her heart racing. Erik apologized, explaining, "I'm sorry, but I'm scared for you. It's dangerous at night."
Georgia appreciated his concern but insisted, "Thanks, but I can handle myself. You don't need to worry," her voice confident as she fixed her hair.
Erik persisted, "It's not right for a girl to go out alone at night. Let me come with you." His face was resolute.
In her mind, Georgia thought, Is he crazy? I can't take him to fight criminals. She laughed, teasing, "What could you do if something happened? You can't fight," her tone playful yet doubtful as she turned away.
"I don't know if I can help, but I feel you need someone watching over you," Erik replied, his voice earnest.
Georgia blushed, embarrassed by his protective words, her cheeks warming in the dark. What's he saying? Why would he watch over me? she thought, flustered.
The air grew awkward as they fell silent, a gentle breeze stirring their quiet moment. Georgia broke the tension, joking, "You're just trying to look cool, aren't you?" Her smile was mischievous.
"No way!" Erik denied, admitting, "Truth is, I'm scared of going out at night." He recounted being robbed once, struck on the head with a rock, and left on the street. "That's why I'm afraid, but thinking something like that could happen to you scares me more. I want to go with you," he said, his voice brave.
Georgia's blush deepened, her heart pounding at his concern, but she refused. "No, thank you," she said firmly, stepping away. Erik insisted, "Can't I come? It's dangerous out there." His hands were ready, his worry clear.
To stop him, Georgia playfully tapped his head. "Enough with your stubbornness! Don't follow me unless you want trouble!" she said, her voice authoritative, showing her watch.
"I'll be gone an hour and back. Go sleep." She ushered him inside, and though reluctant, Erik complied, his mind heavy with worry.
Georgia sighed as she left, conflicted by having someone trying to restrain her, yet her cheeks flushed recalling Erik's care.
Minutes later, Plaridel's streets were quiet but patrolled by Spanish guards. Georgia transformed into Hustisya, patrolling the alleys. In a dark corner, she heard cries for help from Filipinos tormented by local criminals—thieves and syndicate members raiding homes and shops at night.
"Hand over your money, or we'll kill you!" the leader shouted, his face twisted with malice, brandishing a sharp balisong.
Four men, armed with stolen Spanish guns and bloodstained machetes, terrorized an elderly woman who fell, her head bleeding from a broken bottle, while her grandson sobbed, clinging to her clothes. "Don't hurt us! We have no money!" the woman pleaded, but the criminals laughed, shoving the boy into the filthy alley.
Hustisya emerged from the shadows, her pink hair flowing in the breeze, her red cape blazing like fire in the night. "Stop harming the innocent!" she thundered, her voice echoing like a storm. The criminals aimed their guns, but before they could fire, she used her telekinesis—the air swirled, and their weapons floated, flung far into the alley.
"The ghost of Bulacan, stay out of this!" the leader yelled, charging with his balisong. In a swift move, Hustisya vanished, reappearing behind him, felling him with a powerful kick.
"You won't escape me!" she shouted, her hands glowing with energy as she pushed another thief against a wall, knocking him unconscious.
One criminal threw a small grenade, but with a flick of her hand, Hustisya redirected it back, the explosion fatally engulfing him. Using telekinesis, she bound the others to a wooden post with their own ropes. "Wait for the police—you'll pay for your sins," she said, her voice fierce as she helped the elderly woman and child.
"Thank you, Hustisya," the woman whispered, tears of gratitude in her eyes. Yet Hustisya's heart knew their suffering wasn't over.
After the fight, she reverted to Georgia, walking home through unlit streets, guided only by moonlight, the night's sounds like music to her ears. She was startled to meet Erik, her heart racing. "Erik?" she gasped.
He rushed to her, grasping her hand with trembling fingers. "Why are you here?" she asked, looking away.
"You've been gone nearly two hours, so I got worried and looked for you. I was afraid something happened," Erik said, his voice thick with concern.
Georgia snapped, "Are you out of your mind? Going out alone to find me? That's dangerous!" Her face showed anger and worry.
Erik countered, "If you know it's dangerous, why do you go out? I don't understand why you're so brave going alone." His tone was puzzled, his face anxious.
Blushing furiously, Georgia ordered him home. "Go back! I was just visiting some women—it's safe there!" she said defensively, insisting she'd been fine for years. "I've done this for years; you don't need to worry," she added, her eyes confident.
Silence fell, the breeze stirring until they realized Erik still held her hand. They quickly let go, blushing and avoiding each other's gaze. Georgia walked off, feigning defiance, her heart fluttering. "Let's go home and sleep so we can sell tomorrow. Stop worrying," she said, her voice tired but firm.
The next day, they continued selling Hiyas's fish, sharing meals at home, their lives easier through teamwork.
At night, when Erik slept, Georgia sneaked out to patrol as Hustisya. In the town center, she reached a liquor store where abusive Spanish police terrorized people, demanding money with raised guns.
"Pay up, or we'll drag you to jail!" their leader shouted, pointing a gun at an elderly vendor's head. The shop was chaotic—broken bottles, crying children, and pleas for mercy filled the air.
The Spaniards didn't just extort; they abused. A soldier yanked a crying boy's hair, slapping his mother to the ground, blood trickling from her mouth.
"If you don't pay, we'll enslave your children!" another barked, aiming at an old man's head.
"Have mercy, don't do this!" the man begged, kneeling, his hands bruised from beatings.
"You won't get hurt if you pay," a soldier sneered.
"But we'll be buried in debt!" the man cried.
The Filipinos, too scared to resist, wept helplessly. A girl clutched her bleeding arm, wounded by stray bullets from the soldiers' reckless firing.
"Help us!" a woman screamed, but the soldiers laughed, shoving her into broken glass.
Amid the chaos, a furious voice rang out: "You Spanish devils!" Hustisya stepped from the dark, her pink hair swaying, her red cape a fiery beacon.
"Stop abusing my people!" she roared, her voice like thunder. The soldiers aimed, but her telekinesis sent their guns flying and liquor bottles crashing onto their heads, knocking some out.
Elite soldiers arrived in a van, armed with modern rifles and a cannon firing a steel net. "Kill that native ghost!" their leader shouted, unleashing a barrage of bullets that shattered the shop's walls.
"Stop! There are civilians inside!" Hustisya cried, shocked at their reckless shooting.
She charged, her body glowing with energy, vanishing and reappearing to knock a soldier down with a kick.
The Spaniards persisted, firing the steel net to trap her. Her eyes blazed, and with a powerful wave of her hand, she turned the net back on them, ensnaring them. "You're the ones who should be caught!" she shouted, pushing them away as dust and smoke swirled.
The battle raged for minutes, with more soldiers joining, while Filipinos hid under tables. Hustisya fought until no soldier stood conscious.
Aftrr the fight, she returned the stolen money to the victims, her heart heavy as she saw their pain and fear. A child clung to her beaten father, blood on his face, his clothes torn.
"Get treatment immediately," she urged.
She knew families like theirs were powerless against the Spaniards' demands. Her anger surged at the thought of her people enduring foreign oppression in their own land.
"Why must the innocent bleed?" she whispered, tears in her eyes yet resolve in her heart. Though she helped again, she knew the abuses would continue as long as the Spaniards remained.
"I must act; this must end soon," she murmured, vanishing into the dark, her shadow lingering in the shop's smoke.
end.