The Keeper

2. Away from Home-1

2 AWAY FROM HOME

Veren slung his duffel bag over his shoulder. They had called him to the Iztari head office for a quick briefing. He was planning to take his bag home first, but it was no hardship to pass by the office before going home.

They instructed him to go straight to the office of the Chief Iztari, which was on the third floor. He walked into his mentor’s corner office with a thrill of anticipation.

Edrigu Orzabal was waiting for him, a smile of satisfaction on his face. Edrigu gave him a tight hug and a thump on the back.

“Congratulations, Veren! Papa told me you graduated top of your class,” Edrigu said.

“Thank you, Sir! It was the least I can do,” he replied.

He couldn’t help but to grin back. It flattered him that his achievement pleased his mentor and Don Lorenzo Ibarra, his sponsor. He thought he owed it to them to do well. They were his only family in this world.

“So, how long do you have before they give you your first deployment?” Edrigu asked.

“I don't know, but we have about a month-long break before we report back to camp for more training,” he replied.

“Okay. What do you plan to do with your month?”

“Can I spend it here at the office?” He was hopeful Edrigu would say yes.

“You do not have to. You're allowed to take a break, you know,” Edrigu said. He got up and walked to the corner of his office, where a small bar was installed. He pulled out two bottles of cold beer and handed him one.

This surprised him. He didn’t realise they could drink in the Iztari office. He hesitated.

Edrigu chuckled. “It's allowed during special occasions, and today qualifies,” he said in a manner of explanation.

“Thank you, Sir.” He accepted the beer.

They clinked their bottles together and toasted to his graduation from the Military Academy. They had spent few companionable moments together.

Veren’s heart swelled as he gazed at his mentor, and around the room they were in. The entire building felt like home to him since the first time he stepped into the premises sixteen years ago.

“I prefer to spend my summer break here,” Veren said after a moment. “I've always wanted to become an Iztari. So, if it’s okay with you, Sir, I would love to do this.”

Edrigu looked at him, his expression paternal. At least Veren would like to think that was how a father would look at a son—indulgent, patient, and caring. His mentor also seemed to read deeper into him than he cared to think about himself, much less reveal to anyone. Only self-discipline stopped him from looking away.

“Don't you want to spend your summer doing carefree things, like being with people your age, partying, meeting young women, getting a girlfriend, and all those sorts of things?” Edrigu asked. “The opportunities to do that once your work begins will be slim.”

“No, Sir. I've spent all my life with people my age. I’m not interested in parties, and while I don’t mind meeting girls for a laugh or two, I think it would be unfair to any potential girlfriend of mine to be in a relationship with a man like me, who has no plans of getting serious,” he said, and he meant it.

“Okay, if that’s what you prefer,” Edrigu said, then nodded. “I will train you myself. Come here in the morning at eight a.m. For now, go home and rest. You deserve it.” His mentor patted him on the shoulder and gave him a shove toward the door.

“Thank you, Sir. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, giving Edrigu an Iztari salute. He took his leave, his duffel bag slung over his shoulders once more.

Edrigu watched his protege walk out. It was a pity the boy was too young for his granddaughter, Yuana, and that she was already deeply involved with a human. Otherwise, he would set them up. Veren was the type of man that any grandfather would want their granddaughter to meet. Smart, intelligent, driven, and with his heart in the right place.

And as he was an Aswang, everything would be easier for his granddaughter.

One year later.

Anza wasn’t looking forward to today’s itinerary. Her father and stepmother, the entire extended family, would go on their quarterly holiday to their mountain lodge. It would be a very long drive, and she had nothing to be excited about for when they would get to their destination.

They would leave her alone in the cabin when they all went out, giving vent to their natural inclination to transform and be themselves.

She couldn’t take part in the activities they all looked forward to, which were all geared towards a demonstration of supernatural skills that she didn’t have: super strength, super speed, super senses, and shape-shifting. She was the only one in their midst, an Erdia, a half-Aswang who shared their bloodline, but none of their powers.

The only thing of value she had for her father's kind was that her viscera could power them better than a human’s. At times, she fantasised about incidents where they would need her to give them her liver to save their lives.

But the reality was, the scenario would never happen, and if it did, her father would never allow it.

She was her father’s princess, and he treated her like one to a fault. Her parents loved her, and that blinded them to the fact that she was not like them. They treated her like a Viscerebus, and raised her to follow the laws and the codes of their world, including the Veil of Secrecy.

When they went for their Transit, they would expect her to go with them. They would have to move to an unfamiliar country where no one knew who they were. It would be a complete severing of connection with any humans from their previous life.

They seemed to have forgotten the fact that she was as human as her late mother and most of the people in her school. She would age like the humans. And eventually, she would look older than her parents, and she would die long before her parents were halfway through their lifetime.

In the meantime, she would live the Viscerebus life. With no permanent roots, with no longtime friendships or relationships with any non-Viscerebus.

She sighed and got into the car beside her Momstie. She leaned back and closed her eyes, the plush leather comforting, the floral scent of the air freshener familiar. Her parents chatted quietly about the Transit. That suited her. She was not in the mood for conversation.

It would be a few hours before they arrived at their destination. A convoy of their families’ cars followed theirs. Memories of how she felt as she listened to her classmates talk about going to the movies during the weekend, and of their sleepover tonight, were still fresh. The piercing sense of envy and longing hurt. They invited her, but she had to decline. Her father never allowed her to hang out with her human classmates.

She understood her father's reasoning, always followed his dictates, never doubted that he only meant well, and she used to agree with him. She wasn’t so sure anymore.

Four hours later, their car entered the gated compound of their mountain lodge. A thick growth of trees surrounded the property like a wall closing in. The sounds of the forest—the crickets, the birds, the wind that rustled the leaves—were unusually loud. Anza found the familiar fragrance of the wilderness cloying. Everything about it made her uncomfortable. It highlighted the feeling that she didn’t want to be here.

Her room in the lodge was unchanged. The caretakers had cleaned it, as expected. The bed and the linens were fresh. They had aired it, for it did not have the musty smell of a room long unused. They would have done all this within a day. Their Erdia caretakers lived in the lodge year-round and went on holiday during their visits, leaving them to their privacy whenever they’d come. It was a neat arrangement her family preferred.

With a deep sigh, she looked around her room, her sight landing on her bag. She couldn’t be bothered to unpack, so she left it alone. There was nothing much in it, anyway, just the essentials for a three-day break.

She could hear the cacophony of her family outside. They were all in high spirits. Her step-uncle's booming voice dominated as he said something funny. A chorus of laughter followed it. Momstie would be in the kitchen now, supervising the supplies they brought for the weekend - the food, the wine, and everything they would need to spend a memorable family event.

Like before. Like always.

An unwelcome knock pounded on her door. She trudged towards it. It was her cousin, or more correctly, her step-cousin, Xandrei.

“Anz, we’ll set up the barbecue outside. Would you like to join us?” The smile on his face was wide and cajoling.

She nodded and followed him out to the verandah.

Xandrei looked down at her, one arm rested against the door as he regarded her. Despite the two-year gap between them and the difference in interests, they were close. Or, as close as she allowed herself to be with him. Xandrei was always attentive to her. He had a depth to him that most people would never know. They bonded over their common love for poetry, which seemed incongruous as Xandrei looked every bit the jock.

And they were both unhappy with their Viscerebus trait. In her case, the lack of it. For Xandrei, he found his inability to use his full strength and speed in the sports that he loved, frustrating. There was nothing he could do, because it would violate the Veil of Secrecy if he did.

Xandrei compared it to fighting one-handed: it was fun in the beginning, but it became less and less so. Their shared exasperation on this impediment was another reason they had gotten closer in the last five years.

The grill sat on the uncovered portion of the long verandah that wrapped around the lodge. Its position allowed the smoke to waft out into the air once they started cooking. Beside it was a small table laden with raw steaks, marinated chicken breasts and drumsticks, prawns on skewers, corn on the cobs, pineapples, plantains, and pre-baked potatoes wrapped in foil, all ready for the grilling.

Xandrei fired up the grill, while Anza hung back and waited for it to heat. She could see his surreptitious glances. He seemed to sense her disquiet, but he would not ask her directly. He would wait for her to open up. That was Xandrei’s way.

He may have to wait for a long time, though, because she didn’t know what was wrong with herself, or the source of her unhappiness and dissatisfaction. Her heart was heavy with a combination of grief and anger, a sense of injustice that grew bigger every day.

She was like a keg of gunpowder awaiting contact with a lit fuse that was crawling ever closer.

Anza watched as her cousins horsed around in the gated backyard of their lodge. The ancient trees that surrounded the area seemed bigger and lusher. It added security to the walls that fenced their property. Laughter came louder as the older ones teased the younger ones to the point of annoyance. Immature tempers flared and her younger cousins shifted into their Animus out of frustration.

Her fourteen-year-old cousin, a rascal named Caleb, had been making fun of his sister’s crush with Caleb’s human friend. The twelve-year-old got so fed up with the antics of her older brother that she, Shelagh, transformed into a hyena. She snarled, growled, and snapped at her older brother. The elders laughed it off. However, their father intervened when Shelagh clamped her jaws on Caleb's calf muscle. He cried out in pain, unable to shake her off.

“Enough, Caleb! Shelagh, stop! You're drawing blood!”

Her uncle's stern voice arrested Shelagh's fury. She let go of her brother's leg and shifted back into her human form. She was teary-eyed out of wrath and frustration. Her brother's blood rimmed her lips.