Tikba turned to the left and took a shaky breath before opening their own door, the room shrinking in their periphery. The room was cramped, empty and dark; it brought a pang of fear to Tikba’s chest. They placed their hand over their heart, willing for it to beat in that moment.
What is this?
After a few seconds of pretending to be brave, Tikba repeated what they’d done the night before and slept on a hammock in the open living area. The next morning, Tikba hadn’t recalled falling asleep. They didn’t feel tired, but they guessed human habits were hard to break. Their eyes opened. The wood creaked underneath their body weight as they swung their feet to the floor. They didn’t think that Libum appreciated the wake up call, yesterday. They didn’t feel like making a fool of themself, trying to avoid staring at him when he was so…
Tikba put both hands to their cheeks and forced themself to get up. Tikba was dead. They could afford to be a little shameless, couldn’t they? Libum probably dealt with a plethora of strange people constantly, so did Tikba really matter in the span of things? They wouldn't make a move, he'd already rejected them on that. But there was no shame in appreciating someone beautiful.
Half an hour passed, and they began yelling out for both the Hummingbird God and Libum. Tikba peeked through the doors, but didn’t see him. Kolupati was nowhere to be found.
Empty.
Tikba felt panic rise up in their body. Where had they gone? Surely Libum wouldn’t have left to work without them. They descended the ladder, jumped past the steps, and met with silence. Had they made him uncomfortable? Closing their eyes, they tried to imagine Kolupati, thinking they gained some psychic link with their contract. But that didn’t work. Tikba started walking, and prayed that they’d find someone.
A balangay, a boat with a thatched roof on one end, could be seen on the water. Tikba hadn’t even realized there was any water in the Village. Kolupati could see them, and began waving wildly and shouting. A group of people who were still conscious in the Village gathered and shouted their goodbyes to Kolupati. As Tikba broke out into a run, they could make out her laughing face, eyes closed and mouth wide open. The mask looked like it had been fused to her skin.
“Tikba! We’re sorry for not waking you!” she hollered. They forced their feet to stop just before the water. Tikba froze, and took a few hesitant steps back.
“This is how you travel, Kolupati? Why not a portal?”
“We have a perfectly good boat here.” Kolupati answered, slapping the side of it. The boat was about three meters long, but looked too small for a God. “Plus, if we travel on the water, the Anito and I will be able to reach Thala’s port and trade some goods.” Two people sat on either end of the boat, grabbing their oars and ready for Kolupati’s word. “Libum, Tikba, I’m leaving things to you. Please make sure that none of their heads are missing when we come back.”
“Yes, Lady Kolupati. Safe travels.”
Tikba waited for Kolupati to say something about the obvious bite in Libum’s voice, but she only smiled and told the souls to start rowing. Once the boat disappeared, most of the crowd had gone too. Libum turned around and said, “Let’s start, Tikba. The Buhay needs to be tended to.”
“The Buhay is where I woke up, right?”
Libum made a sound, and Tikba could only take it as a yes. “Without Kolupati here, we have to cut the branches ourselves.”
Libum and Tikba walked through a dense, never ending forest. It seemed to stretch forever, but Tikba could finally hear the sound of water running, and vaguely remembered the soaked mess they’d been when they first gained consciousness. Tikba stood in front of the tree and touched its trunk, fascinated that they’d woken up next to it. The gentle stream of clear blue water sounded peaceful. They traced the patterns in it before stumbling upon a hollow in the tree, their fingertips rubbing against the roughness. Almost as if they were possessed, Tikba tried to peek inside it. A loud, frightened coo came from the hole and pecked at Tikba’s nose.
They’d just gotten used to the hummingbirds that followed them.
A dove, colored vibrant blues and browns, stared the two intruders down. They saw red bloom from the yellowed breast of the bird, and a surprised gasp followed. “Is it hurt?”
“No.” Libum pressed a finger to its body and stroked lightly against the bird’s head, the red feathers moving slightly. Tikba did the same, and thought they could feel a gentle thrum underneath the feathers. “It’s a bleeding heart dove,” he explained. “It lives here.”
“She’s calling herself the Hummingbird God, but why doesn’t she make more of these and be the Dove God? Or the Pigeon God?” Tikba snickered, and Libum shook, what Tikba could only describe as him trying to fight the laugh. His face relaxed. The bird angrily pecked their hand as if it understood. Tikba pressed their finger against the chest of the bird, which made it show off the bloody heart proudly.
Libum just lifted his shoulders, and with that snipped off a piece of branch that was hanging, low and blackened.
He said, “I think that’s where her name comes from. I don’t know the story behind the dove. But I know it’s important to Kolupati, and I don’t particularly care to know any more than that. Get up here and help me.”
Tikba carried Libum on their shoulders and lifted him up in order to reach the branch, which he swiftly pulled off without a thought. After a few minutes, they were finished, and Tikba took a closer look at what they had been removing. It was snipping off the end of somebody’s life. They could make out the faint memories of the cursed cat the Anito had met the day before, the branch cleaving in two. One was perfectly healthy, but had a few thick knots, and the other was already decaying.
An unknown amount of souls had been distributed evenly between the Anito who worked the field, so Tikba had to help Libum open forty or so portals that same day.
The act of opening portals proved to be draining on Tikba’s body. “We’re dead!” Tikba shouted into the sky after vomiting for a third time that day. “Why do we still feel shit like this?” They did not tell Libum where they got this, but a toothbrush with a gray handle quickly entered their mouth. “I'm sick of it. Does it get easier the longer you stay here?”
“Is complaining all you did when you were alive, too? You’re not going to be here long enough anyway.” Libum stopped, breathing hard through his nose. Tikba scrubbed at their teeth.
“You’re reaching your limit, after all!” Tikba pointed out, smug that Libum wasn’t some masochistic Anito, and the portal-hopping was having an effect on him, too. “Can’t we get a break?” The soul looked to Libum before their smile fell.
“Bosing? Are you okay?”
