The Legend of the Rainbow

Again, I must thank bebop3 for the pertinent suggestions.

*Translation:

Bituin and Tala = star

Langit = sky or heaven

Bulalakaw = comet

Liwayway = dawn

Luningning = brightness

Pina = pineapple

Enkantada = any being who hails from the enchanted lands

(fairies, nymphs, sylphs, ogres, trolls, etc.)

*All the characters in this story are above 18 years of age.

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"Wake up, dearest."

Bituin, the young star-fairy, turned away from the gentle voice and buried her head beneath the covers.

"Come, sweet one, it's very late. Dusk has long passed and your sisters are all up." Bituin's mother, Tala -- the Queen of Evening -- gently pulled the covers off her daughter.

"What, not up yet?" a much deeper voice spoke from the foot of the bed.

Bituin knew that voice well, too -- it belonged to her father, the Sky King.

"It seems your youngest daughter has no intention of celebrating her eighteenth birthday, madam," Langit, the Sky King, said, winking at his wife.

"Perhaps she needs an incentive," the queen answered, "now what would make a star-fairy get out of bed?"

"A party of sorts?" the king said.

Both her parents looked at their daughter, huddled under the bedclothes, and saw her shake her head.

"It seems she has no taste for it," Bituin's mother sighed.

"A fairy cake the size of the moon?" Langit suggested again.

They waited for a moment, but Bituin again shook her head.

"Oh dear," the queen finally said, "I suppose this means that the new pair of wings I had made, will just go back to the seamstress."

"No, mother, you wouldn't!" Bituin sat up.

"Aha, you have her attention!" the Sky King said, laughing.

Bituin jumped out of bed and hugged her parents.

"I was only teasing you," she said, kissing them both, "please don't send my wings back."

Langit gently ruffled his daughter's long dark hair.

"And your mother was only teasing, too, little one. Now hurry up and get dressed, you have a new pair of wings to try on."

The Sky King kissed his wife and daughter and left the room.

"My first wings!" the young star-fairy danced around the room.

The Queen of Evening looked at her with great love....as well as a little regret. Her youngest daughter was now eighteen, the age when all star fairies received their wings.

At that age, most star fairies were sedate and more... mature -- for wearing wings meant more responsibilities were placed upon their shoulders -- but Bituin, being the youngest, had been brought up more protected and sheltered than her sisters.

Tala bit back a sigh. That was their fault, hers and her husband's, but there was nothing to do now but hope for the best.

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After a month, Tala and Langit were very pleased for their young daughter not only handled her wings well -- she was also very thorough in her duties.

Bulalakaw, the master of comets and the teacher in charge of Bituin's studies, had, at first, given her the more simple tasks, like sprinkling dew on the roses and flower shrubs before sunrise while waking the roosters at the same time.

Bituin happily did these chores and never complained, even if the flowers, especially the roses, disliked getting wet and the roosters, who were a lazy lot, hated getting up before dawn.

One day, Bulalakaw called Bituin.

"I have decided to give you an important task, Your Highness," the teacher said to his student.

The young girl clapped her hands, excitedly.

"What is it, Bulalakaw? Do I get to paint the morning sky -- gold, like my sister, Liwayway, the dawn mistress, does?" Bituin asked.

The old teacher shook his head.

"Is it lighting up the stars at early evening like the goddess of light, my sister, Luningning?"

Again Bulalakaw shook his head.

By this time, Bituin's excitement had vanished. There was only one chore left -- keeping an eye on the younger rain clouds during the monsoon -- and it was the one task the young star fairy was dreading.

Rain clouds were overly emotional beings; after all, they had to keep all their moisture in for several months, before releasing it at the start of the monsoon. And though the older clouds had more control, the younger ones were untrained and had to be kept firmly in check, lest they release every drop on some poor farmer's field, ruining his crops.

"It's that, isn't it?" Bituin said dejectedly, "I have to fly after the clouds."

The teacher nodded and handed the young girl an umbrella.

"This is made of butterfly wings, Your Highness, it's quite old, but it will keep you dry. You start tomorrow."

As the days passed, Bituin began to feel more comfortable with her task.

True, she had to stay awake during the day, since rain clouds were in the habit of relieving themselves in the late afternoon till early evening; but they were a friendly group and the young clouds, once they realized that the star fairy would not put up with nonsense, were quite easy to manage.

Of course, she did get wet (more than once) but all in all, Bituin thought she was managing quite well. How proud her parents and her teacher would be!

One afternoon, just as she was flying home, she realized that she was missing Bulalakaw's umbrella.

Remembering that she had placed it down at the farm she and two young clouds had last visited, she headed back, just as dusk began to fall; she did not want to disappoint anyone.

From afar, she saw the umbrella lying beside a small creek.

Unfortunately, in her haste to retrieve it, Bituin did not notice the branches of the acacia tree that stood on the banks.

She caught her wings in its long sharp twigs as she reached down to pick the umbrella up. As she struggled to free herself, her wings began to tear, then a huge hole appeared in one of them! Bituin could no longer control her flight... down she fell to the cold muddy ground!

----------

When the young fairy woke, she was surprised to find herself lying, not on the cold, wet ground, but in a small warm bed inside a small warm room. She sat up slowly and realized she was not wearing her white fairy gown, but the blouse and long skirt that the mortal women of the villages wore.

Just then, a young man entered, holding a bowl of steaming soup.

He stopped when he saw Bituin sitting up.

"I've made some hot soup for you," he said a little uncertainly, "I hope you're hungry."

He placed the bowl and a spoon on the table beside her bed. The aroma of vegetable broth soon filled the room.

Bituin's tummy began to rumble, she reached for the spoon and began to eat.

When she had finished, she looked up and found the young man smiling gently at her.

"My name is Kardo and I farm the land outside," he said softly.

"I am called Bituin and....," she stopped herself, for it was strictly forbidden for star fairies to reveal themselves to any mortal, no matter how gentle their manner... or their smiles.

"I know you are not from these parts, nor are you like me, Bituin, so say no more. Besides, no mere mortal would have those," the young farmer gestured to the far end of the room.

The star-fairy looked to where Kardo was pointing, and there, hanging beside the window, were Bulalakaw's umbrella, her gown... and her wings.

"I... had to... change your gown, it was wet and muddy, the blouse and skirt belonged to my mother... but I've managed to patch up the holes and tears on your wings... with piña threads. They were the closest match I could find to your wings," Kardo said hesitantly.

"Thank you, Kardo," the star-fairy whispered.

Bituin tried to stand but fell back on the small bed.

"Wait, let me help you," the Kardo said.

Holding on to the young farmer's strong arm, the maiden walked to where her wings hung. She reached out and touched the sheer fabric.

"You can hardly tell where the stitches are," she whispered, "thank you again, Kardo. Without my wings, I could never get home."

"You are more than welcome, Bituin, but you will have to... rest a bit, you fell quite hard... and... and we must let the piña threads dry well before trying the wings. They are still wet and could very well snap," Kardo's voice tailed off.

He's right, Bituin thought. She shuddered at the thought of the threads snapping while she was in mid-flight.

"Alright, but I hope I will not be a burden to you," Bituin said to the young farmer.

"You will never be that, Bituin."

Several weeks passed and still the piña threads had not dried but as fate would have it, the star-fairy and the farmer had, by then, fallen in love.

Thinking that her wings were beyond repair, Bituin accepted Kardo's proposal and so they lived as man and wife.

Life was happy for the young lovers, so much so that they almost forgot that she was not a mortal... almost.

But one day, as a new monsoon was starting, Bituin fell gravely ill.

Kardo called on the village healer who prescribed all sorts of potions and elixirs for the maiden to drink.

But she only got weaker and weaker.

"Isn't there anything else you can do, Manong?" the farmer asked.

"There is nothing more I can do, Kardo. These potions should have cured her days ago," the old man answered, "every person I've prescribed them to, have all gotten better. I can't understand it."

Every person -- the words struck deep into Kardo's heart! He stood up and grabbed the old man's hand.

"Manong, I have something to show you, but you must promise to never tell anyone of it."

He led the village healer to a small closet in the room.

When he opened it, the village healer saw Bituin's wings inside. He reached out a hand and gently touched the sheer material, it was soft and smooth, like velvet, but oh so much lighter.

"Are these your wife's wings, Kardo?" the old man asked.

The farmer nodded.

"Now I know why she has fallen ill, my son. Bituin is an enkantada, a star-fairy, to be exact, and she needs to put on her wings to fly back to her home in the sky. There she will get better."

"But the wings are torn, Manong, I tried to repair them but the piña threads I used never dried properly," Kardo answered.

"There are no holes now, Kardo. Look for yourself."

And true enough, when Kardo and the village healer spread open Bituin's wings, they could not see a single tear nor a single hole.

"A star-fairy lives almost forever in the sky, but her days with you here on earth are numbered. She will die soon if she does not put her wings on to fly home."

Together, they placed Bituin's wings on her. They opened in an instant and lifted the sleeping girl up into the air.

Higher and higher the wings flew, until Kardo and the old man could no longer see the star-fairy.

"I'm sorry, Kardo," the village healer said, as he looked into the young man's downcast face, "but it was what had to be done."

----------

"Where is Bituin?" Langit, the Sky King, asked as he sat down to supper with his queen, Tala.

The Queen of the Evening placed her napkin down.

"Where she always is -- outside, by the astral pond, looking down on the farm and the young man she was forced to leave months ago."

Tala could not hide the sadness in her voice.

"Are you blaming me for our daughter's mistake?" the Sky King said softly," she should have left once her wings had healed, but she chose to stay, knowing full well that..."

"To fall in love with a mortal brings only pain. I know that, my Lord," the queen interjected, "but look at her now, Langit, our daughter cries every day and each tear she sheds is a thorn that stabs at my own heart."

The king reached for his wife's hand, for he, too, felt the same way.

"I'll see what I can do," he said squeezing her hand gently.

He stood up and made his way to the pond. As he drew near it, he could hear Bituin sobbing softly.

"My child," he said gently to his daughter, "what pains you so much that you shed tears every day?"

"Oh, Father," Bituin said, as she embraced the Sky King, "it is not my pain that causes these tears, but his."

She pointed to the waters of the small pool, and there like a mirror, was the reflection of Kardo, sitting by the banks of the small creek where Bituin had fallen.

It was clear that the young farmer was filled with despair.

"He goes to the creek every day, to sit by the banks until nightfall.

Father, I know that I cannot have my wings back until I have redeemed myself, but I will gladly give them up forever if I could but speak to Kardo just one more time."

Langit gently lifted his daughter's chin and looked into her eyes.

"I believe there is such a way, but," he placed a finger across her lips before she could speak, "it cannot be done very often. Only when your heart feels like it will break and when your tears start to flow like the waves of the sea, will it be possible. Are you prepared to go through all that just to spend a few moments with this young man?"

"I will do anything, Father," Bituin replied.

"Very well," Langit said.

He untied the long colorful waist-cloth he wore around his hips and gave it to his daughter.

"The moment the tears you shed have eased, stretch out my waist-cloth to its full length and drop it into the pool. It will serve as a bridge you can cross, back down to the land where the young farmer lives."

----------

Kardo did not move from where he sat beside the small stream where he had found Bituin. And though it had been months since he had last seen her, he would make the journey from the hut they had shared to these muddy banks everyday, hoping for the maiden's return.

The rain that had started that morning began to ease, the sun began to reluctantly peep from behind the few rain clouds that still hovered above the fields, but still the young farmer waited.

Then Kardo noticed that the stream began to shimmer as gentle eddies of water formed, the ripples growing wider and wider. Finally the circles reached the bank where he sat. A huge arc of color appeared from the pool, and started to rise up to the sky, a sky that was turning blue!

Kardo looked up and blinked -- at first he thought he was dreaming or even worse, losing his mind! -- but no, there was a small figure that was walking down the colored arc in front of him, the small figure of a star-fairy!

To this day, after Bituin unfurls the waistcloth (called bahag) of her father, the king (or hari) it creates a rainbow, a bridge connecting the sky to the earth, which the star fairy crosses in order to spend time with the young farmer.

And that is how the rainbow or bahag-hari -- came to be.