Libum didn’t recall falling asleep, with his head against the table, back hunched over. A dull pain in his lower back caused him to groan, and a bowl of cold soup sat in front of him. Because of his nap, he’d wasted all that food. His exposure to the Village taught him one lesson: Everything that had been brought inside the Village from the other realms, whether human or God's, quickly deteriorated.
The Food he’d eaten that day had prevented such a thing.
There wasn’t a sign of Tikba anywhere in the House, either, though it took him a few minutes to remember they existed in his life now.
Who knows what kind of bullshit they got into? Libum swallowed the guilt he felt from the food waste and started walking towards the casino. Why should I feel guilty? Stupid people make bad choices. It has nothing to do with me. There were plenty of others who were just as annoying as the soul on his mind. The pagoda was still alive with humans, but a significant chunk of them had removed themselves from the premises.
He tried to stop his thoughts. About the Tagkawal carrying dead bodies around. About corpses being piled up somewhere, thrown to the dogs and burned like trash. Libum pushed through the door.
Silat was working the bar.
“Where is the new Anito?”
“Haven’t seen ‘em in a few hours.” Silat rubbed at his bloodshot eyes and licked at his lips. “They’ve been spending money like crazy, though. I’m almost afraid of it.” Libum scanned the slots and noticed the lost soul was seated at the poker table, bringing chips to their chest and laughing. “It looks like they’re about to win back what they owe.”
He made a beeline towards the poker table. “You’re lucky I got here when I did. It’s time to go, Tikba. You can play later, and let Kolupati deal with you.” Tikba turned around, wearing a proud smirk on their lips.
“Why don’t we take a visit to the human realm and buy ourselves a drink at one of the Realm markets?”
They were gathering information while Libum slept. He thought that after Tikba formed a contract with Kolupati, it would put them on the road to remembering their past life, and moving on. Kolupati had been right before, that the memories were still somewhere inside, but here Tikba was, playing poker. Why did it feel like Tikba didn’t want to remember? Libum couldn’t comprehend it.
He’d spent the last few years of his life stuck in the Village and spent every day grasping at straws for any semblance of a helpful memory. Whenever he wanted to remember, all that came to him were the ones of the Village.
He dragged the Anito away from the table, outside, and put some distance in between the humans and the two. Libum pulled out his notebook and flipped it open to a new empty page.
“Do whatever you want after we’ve collected enough souls. I wasn’t feeling well yesterday, but we’re going to work until I say we stop. Open the portal to the next soul, Tikba.” The soul refused to leave at first, too enthralled by the thrills of the casino, but Libum forced their cooperation anyway. He had been paired up with the worst possible partner. Without thinking, he blurted, “Do you even want to leave?”
“Where’s this coming from?”
“I mean, you don’t act like you’re eager to get out of here.” Libum stopped himself from asking, Don't you want to live in whatever’s next?
“Should I be eager to leave?” they asked, opening the portal and walking through it. When Libum followed, they said, “I’ve already lived a life, and from the looks of my face, it doesn’t seem to be too good of one. Why should I be eager to remember it? At least here…” Tikba trailed off as the body came into view. “I can experience things I’ve never seen before. This world is so different and vast. There’s so much I want to learn. If you’re living, you’re risking wasting your money, but if you’re dead, you’re risking the next life. The next life feels like less consequence because it isn't imaginable to me. I can't picture myself leaving here.”
The two Anito, despite sharing drastically different ideals, worked quickly together. Forty-eight souls had been collected before Libum finally called a break. Tikba looked ready to keel over, clutching their stomach and hanging forward.
“Have you eaten? We can go to the closest Realm market you were talking about earlier. Their items are usually limited, though.”
“You knew about them and didn’t tell me.” Despite the raise at the end of their voice, they said it as if they were accusing him of something.
“I haven’t visited in a few years.”
Libum opened a portal to the closest market, an area surrounded by a canyon on all sides. There was a food stall, mismatched seats and dining areas, and a few stands that sold clothing. His mouth salivated at the thought of fried food and tangy sauces. Chicken skewers and fried quail eggs with spicy vinegar, Libum thought he could taste hints of it, mostly the spicy vinegar, on his tongue. Tikba exposed the bulawani they pocketed and went into the line ready to pay for their meal. They ended up spending all of the coins they had on barbecue, quail eggs, crispy noodles, and aged coconut tuba wine for the two of them to share.
The soul peered into the food stall and tugged on Libum’s sleeve. A canine, its fur black and shiny, sat next to a religious follower.
“Ha!” Tikba smiled as if they knew a secret. “You’re the companions of Gods, I think? Thank you so much for the food, it’s delicious.” The soul sat and wasted no time filling up on food. They popped some of the eggs into their mouth, and Libum opened up the vinegar for them to try. “So,” Tikba said after a moment. They wiped at their mouth with a napkin. “First dates usually start with questions, don’t they? What's the deal with the necklace?”
“It's my mother's and this isn’t a date,” Libum said, instantly defensive. “We work together.”
A woman's laughter suddenly interrupted the two, but Libum had no way of knowing if he was the subject of her laughter. It chilled him to the bone—reminding him of Kolupati, but upon looking for the source, he noticed that they were alone.
“How long have you been working with Kolupati?” they asked. “Even if we are coworkers, we should still get to know each other. And you are the big boss around here. Shouldn't we sit and drink and mourn the loss of our burnt eyebrows together?”
In his mind, he was reminded of the Moon once more. But of course, he knew how long he'd been working under her. Libum knew time well. He counted the days he’d been here over and over and lost track when he reached the large numbers. Years moved differently in this space, but if Libum had to guess at approximation, he would have been living in the Village with Kolupati for twenty years, and working under her officially for thirteen. Or at least, that’s how the math was calculated in his head.
“I formed a contract with her thirteen years ago,” Libum confirmed. “I’ve been here longer than that, though.”
“Souls stay here that long?”
“It depends. Most of the souls I work with last a few weeks, on average. Some have stayed here for a month, at most.”
“The aunties?” Tikba questioned, recounting that they’d seen the group at the Casino and the conversation they overheard. Libum shrugged his shoulders.
“I think they’ve all been here longer than anyone. Calm jobs in the Village keep them here longer. Mystery to me.”
When the two finished, Tikba convinced Libum to inspect the clothing stands. Fine silk garments were strung up outside, but nothing that caught Libum’s own eye. He watched the soul instead, Tikba’s eyes traveling from Libum’s clothes to their own. Tikba was dressed in a simple brown shirt and dress pants, the same tapis they wore on the first day.
Tikba picked out a soft dress shirt with a simple pattern, checked the price, and though they had no means to, their skin paled. The difference between food and clothing were worlds away. Tikba pretended to not be impressed and put it back. The third shop had cheaper prices, selling a variety of anting that ranged from warding off evil and bad energy to ones that brought unconditional love.
"Do you want that?"
Tikba carried a charm in their hand, the tagabulog, one that was rumored to provide invisibility to the wearer, and therefore protection, against evil. Tikba counted out some of the bulawani and sighed.
"I don’t have enough to pay for it."
“I’ll take this one, please.” Libum dropped a handful of coins into Tikba’s hand.
Tikba handed the coins to the vendor. Before they could tie the charm around their neck, Libum offered to do so. As Libum gathered Tikba's long hair, he gradually examined their neck and noticed dark purple impressions littered across. He promptly fastened the chain.
"There, we both wear necklaces now," he said. A mental note stuck itself to the back of his mind to inform Kolupati of what he saw. Just what did this person go through to have such a violent ending? His hands went to his own neck, silently tracing the marks with his fingers. Tikba hadn’t bruised him too badly, before.
"Does it work?" Tikba asked. Their fingers touched the new foreign material. "Can you see me?"
"Am I evil? You're making such a good first date." Libum said dryly. He hadn't meant to say such an absurd thing, but he found himself trying to copy the other's games. The human wasn't offended, but Tikba pressed their hand to their face. Apologies tumbled out of their mouth.
“I didn’t mean it like that, Li-bosing!” Tikba said. “Of course you’re not evil.” Libum turned around and Tikba stuttered, “I...Sorry, I didn’t mean to. Imply that, I mean. You’re really. Really normal compared to everyone else around here, me included.”
“I don’t care,” responded Libum in a way that he thought came off as I’m not offended. “I can still see you, so maybe it doesn’t even work.”
Was Libum considered an evil person? He brought the spirits of the dead to the Village of souls filled with grief. There had been many times, Libum pushed these thoughts out but they came crashing back with a vengeance, many times he begged for more people to die so that he could fulfill his contract straight away.
Good people didn’t wish ill upon the innocent. Only the evil did.
