Kuro: A Land in Eternal Night

Chapter 24.3: To Tame a Tikbalang

He edged closer, hiding himself in the darkness. He was sure neither Tikbalang nor deer had sensed his presence. His heart beat faster. In the falling rain, animal senses were dulled, but not the senses of the great prince of Mystika. He kept his wits about him. The water was relentless; it continued its steady pitter-patter, easing only slightly as the storm lost its intensity. Kulas knew that the opportunity would not last, but didn't have the slightest idea how he would even begin to approach his prey. He had hunted deer, certainly, even bears, but a Tikbalang was an entirely different thing.

He'd heard stories of the beast's ferocity and the raging battle that would ensue. Though the Tikbalang walked upright, the creatures were capable of balling their enormous hands into fists – the back of the creatures' fingers and knuckles covered in a tough hoof-like casing – and going down on all fours to increase their speed. He knew the horse-like creatures did not necessarily appreciate being tamed and would do all they could to dissuade a potential tamer.

He gripped the hilt of the Dahong Palay tighter, more out of instinct than anything else. The sharp blade stood in stark contrast to the chaos of the rain, the straight lines of the blade bringing order to the chaos of nature. The sheath dangled at his side, and he moved it behind him, as if the act would help conceal him.

"Do not think for a moment that I cannot see you, boy." A booming voice spoke above the rain-filled darkness.

The deer bolted upon hearing the voice. Kulas cursed himself quietly. Not only had he gotten himself caught, but his secondary quarry, dinner, was now gone. He raised the Dahong Palay slightly, bending his knees lower, bracing for the inevitable battle.

"Has the cat got your tongue boy? Or have the Mystikans forgotten how to speak?"

That startled Kulas. It was unnerving for the hunter to have to listen to his prey speak. Or was it the other way around? For a brief moment, Kulas was unsure who the hunter and the hunted were.

He tried to calm down, to collect his thoughts. He took stock of the situation that faced him. His mind raced, back to the lessons he had learned, what he knew of the Tikbalang, and everything that he knew he needed to do.

A proud race by nature, the Tikbalang were first and foremost proud of their thick mane of heavy, almost razor sharp hair. The greater the Tikbalang, the sharper and deadlier the mane was. Taming a Tikbalang was a simple, old fashioned process. One simply needed to grab hold of the Tikbalang's mane, and hang on until the creature, unable to dislodge its rider, gave up and acknowledged defeat. Should someone grab hold of a Tikbalang's mane in such a manner, one could effectively gain its respect and induce it to be subservient. Although the procedure was simple, actually doing it was an entirely different matter.

Kulas was starting to get lost in thought when a loud sound interrupted him. The Tikbalang was clearing its throat. "Have the Mystikans lost their manners as well?"

It approached him now. Kulas realized at once what a magnificent creature the Tikbalang was. There was an intensity to it. In the darkness, the creature appeared to blend in perfectly. They were, after all, creatures of the dark to begin with. However, something about the island nation always caused things to behave not as they were. These creatures of the dark sided with the Mystikans, who were of the light.

Kulas shook his head. "Mystikans will never lose our manners, or our pride." He approached the Tikbalang and looked him in the eye. It was the customary salute, and it was a form of respect. The Mystikan boy was paying his respects to the creature, as was customary.

Kulas raised the Dahong Palay in salute. "I am Kulas Maliksi, son of Datu Hagibis Maliksi and crown prince and soon-to-be Datu of Mystika."

The Tikbalang laughed, his bellowing laughter resounding throughout the forest.

"Soon-to-be-Datu is not the same as a Datu. You are barely a man."