The Engkanto Quartet: Voyage to the East

Singing arrows

That was a bad roll, and he thought it was his last. Rakly hit his back against the rough, pointy rocks on the ground as he dodged the first attack. Upon getting up, he found himself caught between two hells, between equally horrific creatures. 

He looked for an opening to escape. But the creature behind him did not hesitate to attack. His quick reflexes enabled him to leap toward his right. Like a cat, he landed softly on the ground. He was thinking of survival alone at that moment. Dealing with two strange creatures he encountered for the first time was like staring death right in the face, let alone defeat them. He did not even know what to call the monsters. Konradus must have forgotten to teach him how to identify which was which. And had he not dodged the first and the second attacks, the sharp talon would have pierced his heart. 

Turning his head to the left, he swung his right-hand sword that hit the creature’s right leg. And then he followed it up with a thrust into the back with the left-hand sword. He sure knew with certainty that he landed a hit, leaving the creature wounded. When he pulled the sword, there was no blood on the blade. There was but a dark, sticky sludge, a slime that stenched a rotten carcass. 

The limping creature dashed away into the village center. But as Rakly pursued it, the other monster rushed toward him. He leaped to his right again, letting it pass him by before cutting its left wing. In a blink of an eye, the creature disappeared. It must have been hiding behind the veil of the night.

He was running after the one heading to the village center that took advantage of the darkness as its cover. The fear he felt when he first heard the terrifying noise was gone. Courage and will to find ways of defeating the evil creatures of the night took over. However, his mind was still muddled. It might be because the malodor remained stuck in his nose. 

When Rakly reached the place where he first heard the screams, he looked around and searched every corner for the one he thought was wounded. The bonfire in the middle of a small square had died out, leaving only the odor of smoke mixed with blood and burnt flesh. Dead bodies were all over the place in a remote village of close to a hundred people. He flipped the body of a girl. Her belly was cut open with the entrails out. It was also the same with the young man lying next to her. The sight was reminiscent of Sitio Patag and Tinago.

He stopped pursuing the wounded creature into the woods. Instead, Rakly trudged the open space near the square. He was preoccupied with the thought of possibly catching one of the monsters once it would show up. But he did not notice that the creatures had surrounded him already, five of them, and they’re all identical. He had a hard time determining which of the foul creatures were the ones he encountered and which of them was the wounded one. 

It was too late to run and hide. Rakly was stuck in the open as all five monstrous beings galloped their way toward him in one fell swoop. As he was figuring out how to slip out of the center, an arrow whispered in his ear. It went straight into the chest of the creature in front of him. 

Before he knew it, there was whistling and singing of arrows in the air. He looked around to trace where they came from, only to find out that the arrows already pierced the head and the chest of each foul creature. 

All five were down; all were dead. Only Rakly was left standing. 

When he turned his head behind him, there stood a man with a bow and an arrow pointing at him. He was Tikloi, and with him was Velmer with a sword and a dying torch in hand. “We followed the trail and found a trace of blood leading to this place. It’s good you’re still alive. I’m surprised,” Tikloi said.

Rakly took a deep breath. He was still standing with five massive monsters around him. Tikloi put his bow and arrow down as the dwarf rushed toward one of the slimy creatures that fell. “You couldn’t kill these creatures with this,” Velmer said, grabbing one of Rakly’s swords. “This sword can’t do anything against these foul and disgusting devils. Think about it. You’re fighting only against the weak creatures and not the strong ones yet, let alone the real enemy.” 

“What are these?” Rakly asked. 

“They are called Tiktiks,” the dwarf answered. “One Tiktik alone is capable of wiping out an entire village of men, women, and children in a single night. They’re voracious with an insatiable appetite. They devour not only your flesh but also your soul. Just like any powerful being, they cannot be satisfied with the food and power they possess. They want some more. These magical creatures came out of the dead carcass of wild animals. Lor Gorgo molded them in the mud of Lubudur, and there’s no way you can defeat them with ordinary swords.” 

Rakly put his swords back to their sheaths, and then he pulled out an arrow from one of the creatures. “This arrow, please tell me more about it.”

“This is made of a special metal from the mines of the Eastern Mountains. The Duendes unearthed it from one of the sacred hills there, and they forged it in the fires of Ta’al. It is the only material for a weapon that can kill the enemy’s creatures. But you can’t defeat Lor Gorgo with it, though. He’s immortal. He’s one of the ancient ones,” Velmer explained. 

“I have thousands of these,” Tikloi said as he collected the arrows from the bodies of Tiktiks. “Your swords, they’re familiar. Konradus gave them to you, yes?” 

Rakly nodded.

“They’re useful only against the northern tribesmen, but not against Tiktiks or any of Lor Gorgo’s creations,” Tikloi continued.

“I thought I had two of them cut by my swords. I was sure of it when I first hit one of them.”

“No, you did not. You can stab or cut the belly, but it leaves no wound. These are creatures of magic,” said the dwarf. And then he pointed to one of the Tiktiks with an arrow in the forehead. “Look at this one. If you cut the head, it rejoins the body. Mortals with ordinary weapons are no match against them.”

“I’m wondering why there was no attack for several weeks,” said Rakly. 

“We don’t know. We can only speculate. We killed two on the way here. That makes the total of seven Tiktiks reaching the island. We have scanned the mountains and the hills from north to south. These monsters might be elusive. But they could not escape from my arrows,” said Tikloi, who placed the dead Tiktiks on a pile of dried wood, sticks, and palm leaves.

“I’m certain there are only seven on the island. All are dead,” Velmer said. 

“I hope you’re right,” said Rakly. “I can’t stand such a horrible sight.” 

“Like wolves, they attack in a pack,” Velmer said. 

“Velmer is correct — no more foul creatures in Ragua, except for the gossipers in town,” Tikloi quipped.

They burned the Tiktiks to ashes, killing them totally without the chance of getting back to life. And also to get rid of the stench. But not a single villager was left alive. No one was spared, not even those hiding for their safety inside the big house at the village center near the square. 

“The enemy only comes to kill and destroy. There’s no regard for life,” Velmer said.

The next day, Rakly returned to the village with Isuk, who led a group of men from the town to bury the victims. About seventy were killed and buried in a mass grave. The island heaved a sigh of relief. They defeated the monsters, but it was not a cause for celebration as Raguans continued to mourn for their loss. They said prayers to the gods, performed rituals, and cursed the evil enemies that brought nightmares to the island. 

To mark the grave, they built a stone altar. On it, the elders sacrificed animals as offerings to the island’s divine guardians. To this day, the stone altar remains standing as a testimony to the evil work of Lor Gorgo.

Despite the absence of threat as of the moment, fear and terror had not. They remained fresh in memory, and people were expecting more arrivals. Not of refugees, but there would be more Tiktiks on the island in the coming days, weeks, or months. Rumors also spread that spies from the Mainland disguised themselves as refugees, although it was not new. The people’s trauma reinforced their suspicions of the strangers, visitors, and refugees from different places coming to Ragua.