The Legend of the Waterfalls Pt. 03

Many thanks to chasten and the Alpaca Alliance.

Please enjoy.

* * * * *

As soon as the boat reached the mountain top, Dumakulem took a deep breath and blew into the waters of the great lake. The waters parted, exposing the soft, muddy bottom where Igat was lying in wait. The serpent rose and lunged at Dumakulem, but the mountain-god sidestepped the strike. He grabbed an exposed boulder and flung it at the serpent, but Igat, too, was quick. He slithered into a cave and the huge rock fell harmlessly on the mud.

But Igat had forgotten the strength of the mountain-god. Dumakulem pushed one arm into the cave, splitting its walls apart. Igat burrowed deeper inside the crevasse, but Dumakulem grabbed his tail and pulled the serpent out. Igat tried to break free, he squirmed and writhed, but the mountain-god's other hand closed around the serpent's middle.

"Surrender, brother," Dumakulem said, "save what little honor you have left as the guardian of the river."

"You know my answer," Igat said, "it will never change."

* * * * *

"Dumakulem's barrier will not hold the water much longer, Lakambini!" Apo Galang cried above the noise of the rushing water as it carried their small boat helplessly along.

"The barrier will hold, Apo."

The advisor marveled at the calmness in Bighani's voice.

"It will still be there when we reach the cliff edge to set Aman Sinaya's veil free," she added.

The boat started jerking again, swaying violently as the raging waters dipped and swerved past outlying rocks. Bighani and Apo Galang held on tightly to the edge of the boat; they knew they had reached the dreaded Mabatong Landas, the mountain path that was littered with deep holes and huge boulders, terrible reminders of the river of fire that had streamed down from the sacred peaks long ago. It was a difficult path to traverse when it had been dry, but now it had become dangerous as the raging flood filled the narrow pass; their tiny vessel could easily be crushed by the rocks or thrown and smashed against the tall granite cliffs on either side.

"Look out!" Galang warned, as he saw the whitewater they were fast approaching. The boat bucked and spun as the rapids caught their vessel, pummeling it against the many rocks.

"Apo!" Bighani screamed as the long oar the old man held broke in two; the small vessel tipped dangerously to port, but both the maiden and Galang managed to counter this by throwing themselves to the other side.

Suddenly, a huge wave swept over them; the boat gave a sickening crunch, and everything became dark.

* * * * *

"You are strong, Dumakulem, I'll give you that, but you won't be able to hold me for long."

The sinister hood that covered Igat's head grew in size, pushing Dumakulem's fingers down and away from the serpent's smooth body.

Once free, the river-guardian turned and aimed his fangs at his brother's neck. He lunged forward, intent on delivering a poisonous bite.

The moment Igat reared his head, the mountain-god knew what his brother intended; he quickly raised his arm and turned his wrist, the serpent's fangs landed harmlessly on the thick amulets that encircled his arm.

Thwarted and vexed by his brother's swift reaction, Igat tried to strike once more, but Dumakulem's other hand gripped him under his jaw -- imprisoning his head in an iron grip. The serpent twisted his body, coiling his muscles around the mountain-god's chest and hips, squeezing them tightly, determined to draw the last bit of air out of his brother.

Dumakulem felt the ever-tightening pressure of the serpent coiled around him; holding his breath, he countered by expanding his powerful chest muscles. He did not have the luxury of expelling the air in his lungs for that was exactly what Igat wanted him to do.

"You cannot hold your breath forever, brother, and even if you defeat me, you will be too late to save your bride and your advisor," Igat hissed into Dumakulem's ear, "they will never survive Mabatong Landas, they will drown in my flood!"

* * * * *

"Apo Galang, are you alright?"

The advisor opened his eyes; Bighani was kneeling beside him, her face lined with worry.

"Yes, Lakambini," he croaked.

As he sat up, he realized that their boat had stopped moving. The current had wedged it between two large boulders, and though the waters continually rushed over and past them, they were, for the time being, safe. He looked over Bighani's shoulder.

"There it is," he exclaimed, "the cliff-edge."

Bighani turned and looked to where he pointed.

Ahead of them lay the clearing where Mabatong Landas ended. It would have been a beautiful scene -- the clear blue sky above with the magnificent trees cloaking the sheer cliffs around them -- but Danum's deadly waters were quickly filling the narrow pass, the only barrier was the dam of boulders Dumakulem had placed, but it was clear that the waves would breach this in no time at all. And when that happened, everything in both highlands and lowlands -- people, animals, villages, corn and rice fields -- would perish.

"Invoke Aman Sinaya's help, Lakambini, ask the veil to stem the cascade so that the waters will flow gently down the edge, then toss the veil into the water. It must reach the edge before the barrier breaks."

"Can we set the veil free here, Apo?"

"I think so, Lakambini."

Bighani reached for the cloth, closed her eyes, and whispered a short prayer. She kissed the veil and dropped it into the churning water.

They watched as Aman Sinaya's veil, carried along by the waves, spun and twisted its way towards Dumakulem's barrier and the cliff edge.

"Will it reach the barrier before it breaks, Apo?"

"Yes, yes, I think it will reach it just in time, Lakambini," Apo Galang said, "and once the water breaches, the boulders will give way, but the veil's power will halt the sudden rush of water and....nooooh!"

Bighani turned to the river and gasped -- the veil was caught in one of the many sharp rocks that jutted from the riverbed.

"The water is starting to overflow," cried Apo Galang.

Without hesitating, Bighani began stripping off her clothes.

"My lady, wh...what are you doing?" Galang's voice trembled with fear as he began to realize what Bighani's intentions were.

"I shall free the veil," she answered and dove into the swirling flood.

"No, Bighani!"

Galang's cry was lost in the mad vortex of ever-rising water.

* * * * *

"I know I cannot hold my breath forever, brother, but neither can you."

With that, the mountain-god tightened his hold on Danum's head, the most vulnerable part of any serpent.

Igat felt the increasing pain that pulsed through his head as Dumakulem's hand closed around his neck, forcing his jaws wide open at an impossible angle; he squeezed the muscular coils that were wrapped around the mountain-god even tighter in an effort to free himself, but his brother's fingers grasped harder. He tried to raise his hood again, hoping it would loosen the iron grip that was choking him, but this time the flap of skin refused to rise.

Locked in battle, Dumakulem felt the crushing pressure of the serpent pushing the air out of his lungs, his heart was near bursting as he fought to hold his breath; but Igat, too, was suffering, for with every inch that he gained tightening the coils around the mountain-god, Dumakulem's fingers dug ever deeper into the base of his neck.

Suddenly, both brothers felt the tearing of the serpent's jaws as Dumakulem's hand crushed through Igat's flesh and bones; the beast went limp in Dumakulem's arms, the coils slipping down the mountain-god's knees and pooling harmlessly around his feet.

But there was no time to savor the victory, nor did he feel any satisfaction in winning the battle; Dumakulem had just vanquished his own brother, there was no joy in that.

"Forgive me," he whispered.

He let go of the serpent's limp body and rushed toward the highlands and Mabatong Landas.

* * * * *

Apo Galang's heart constricted with fear, he had lost sight of Bighani the moment she hit water, and now, minutes later, he still had not seen her.

"All powerful Bathaluman," he prayed to the revered chieftain of all the deities, "please keep her safe."

At that moment, Bighani's head emerged from the water. She swam towards the veil; there were times when he could see her struggling against the waves, her slender arms cleaving through the water and there were instances when she seemed to almost allow herself to be borne along by the powerful current. The rising flood had now started to form a huge whirlpool, as more and more of the water that Danum had released poured into the narrow pass. The large boulders that Dumakulem had placed long ago were still in place, but the softer soil beneath them was soaked through. Apo Galang knew it would soon give way.

Bighani was now only a few feet from the veil, but her limbs felt like they were made of stone and her chest was a mass of pain from the constant pressure of the water.

The waves suddenly changed direction -- Apo Galang screamed Bighani's name again as she was pulled under.

Struggling for breath, Bighani fought against the undertow. She could not give up, but she felt her strength waning; then she remembered what the veil stood for.

"Help me, Aman Sinaya, it is not only for my beloved Dumakulem that I do this, but for the salvation of both your sons."

The swirling waves changed direction once more, Bighani cried as her naked body was thrown against the rock where the veil was caught. She reached out with one hand and managed to grab the end of the cloth.

Praying that it would not tear, she pulled herself along the cloth until she got to the edge where the veil had snagged. It was then that she realized it was caught under the waves. With the last of her strength, Bighani gulped a mouthful of air and went under, she freed the cloth and it was instantly swept away towards the cliff edge. It churned around and around, borne by the deadly whirlpool that continually gathered strength, undermining the soil beneath the barrier, until finally, the water breached the top, sweeping away the rocks.

The veil followed the descending flood, but as it fell, the cloth began to billow and float high above the waves. It curled over itself, the folds doubling over and over, wrapping around the cascade until one could no longer tell cloth and water apart. For a brief moment, the flood seemed to stop, a shimmering column of whitewater then it started to fall once again -- not wildly, but in a steady graceful stream.The dry river bed at the bottom began to fill and started to meander, following its ancient route.

Bighani could not see beyond the edge; she could only hope that she and Apo Galang were right and that they had done enough. She tried to pull herself up the rock, but had no strength left; her arms and legs refused to move; they were numb from the cold and fatigue, she had no choice but to surrender.

"Please let him be there," she whispered and let go of the rock.

The waves carried her helplessly towards the cliff-edge and then down, down the cascading stream...and into Dumakulem's arms.

* * * * *

Danum felt a gentle hand on his brow.

"Open your eyes, Danum," a soft voice whispered above him.

"Leave me be, Dayang Maria, I do not need your words of wisdom...nor your concern."

"I have neither, Lakan, so you need not worry."

The river-guardian opened his eyes, he tried to raise his head, but no matter how hard he tried, he could not; it was clear his neck had suffered a terrible injury. Out of breath and in pain, his head fell back on the soft ground.

"It will take time, but you will heal; once the mortals forget what you tried to do and decide to call on your name in worship again."

"There must be great rejoicing in Bathaluman's court, now that Dumakulem has won," he said bitterly.

"Why do you say that?"

"Good has triumphed over evil -- again -- Dayang Maria, is that not one of the rules that govern gods and mortals alike?"

"You are still defiant, Danum, even in defeat," Mariang Makiling sighed, shaking her head, "and you should know that except for one rule, gods and deities have none, we leave all that for the babaylans and the storytellers to recount so that we can feel good about ourselves. But you are correct, and that one rule is what the court is celebrating."

"What rule is that?"

"True love, Lakan."

"So, now you belittle me, too, for you think I cannot love like my brother."

"I was not speaking of you nor of Dumakulem."

"Who, then?"

"Bighani."

* * * * *

The mountain-god carried his beloved across the river and onto dry land. He sat down on the soft grass and cradled her in his arms, warming her naked body with the heat of his.

"Lakan, I could not see beyond the barrier, did we....have we done enough?" she finally asked.

"See for yourself, Lakambini," he gently said.

Bighani looked to where Danum's flood was falling and saw a graceful stream of never-ending white water that cascaded down from the cliff edge. It was powerful but no longer menacing; a lifeline for all, never again would they have to worry about drought and thirst.

"It looks like...a wedding veil," she murmured.

"It is a veil, my mother's wedding veil. You have brought it back to me."

"Apo Galang!" she exclaimed, remembering the chief advisor, "he is still up in the pass. You must get him, Lakan."

"Do not worry, the scouts would have found him by now," he answered, holding her even closer.

"I was afraid I would be too late," he whispered, kissing her forehead.

Haring Magat's daughter smiled and Dumakulem's heart skipped a beat, suddenly aware of the soft curves that were pressed against him.

"I prayed that you would be there -- and you were. You will never lose me, my Lakan," she said, caressing his scarred face with gentle fingers.

They were so close that he could feel her breath on his face and the rise and fall of her breasts against his chest. He closed his eyes to savor the sensations and he heard her soft whispered plea:

"Please..."

At last, their lips met...heaven was finally theirs.