Guardians & Encants: The Heart of Mayon

Chapter 2: Afterlife?

Gino tried to remember what happened, if it was a dream or if this was the dream. He was sure that everything had led to this moment. He was dead. He was sure. He was supposed to be dead but there he was, conscious and aware of the sound of his heartbeat ringing in his ears.

Prior to waking up, Gino had a nightmare, as if dying wasn't enough of a nightmare for him. He was in the middle of an unknown forest with faces carved on the barks of the trees. The faces laughed at him as he stumbled over the suggestive shadows they cast with their branches. Eventually, the shadows rose from the ground, taking shape like solidifying liquid ink, and he crawled backwards to safety as he fell on his butt in surprise. Before the shadows could take their desired menacing shape, Gino fell unconscious yet again.

Gino woke up to the sound of obnoxious laughter. Which of his dreams was the nightmare, he couldn't tell. His head spun, like he took a ride in a merry-go-round totally blindfolded at ten times its usual speed. He tried to clench his fists to feel his hands, but his strength betrayed him. In the middle of the laughter, he heard a voice berating the source of the laughter. The voice was gentle but powerful, like the sun in daybreak. The laughter now turned into mockery, but it faded out of the room. After a second of silence when the mockery was gone, he heard light footsteps coming closer to him. It stopped about an arm's length of his head, and he saw a figure looking down at him. He tried to make sense of its words, but his vision was still blurry plus the sounds were a bit unclear, like he was submerged in water. Immediately after its slurry words came to an end, which sounded like a chant, Gino's head stopped spinning; and his visions became clearer. And, it was a she.

It was a she with light brown, intelligent eyes, and overly curly hair. Curiosity paired with incessant determination streamed on her face, asserting her clear personality: a force to be reckoned with. He unconsciously muttered, "Merida?" Her hair moved to the side, baffled with the first words that came out of his lips. When she understood his reference, she chuckled.

"I get that a lot. Are you alright?" the curly hair swayed. He tried to speak again, but nothing came out of his lips. His mouth felt stiff and dry, like the day after an endless night of rum and tequila. The girl nodded to herself with raised eyebrows, as if she just remembered an important detail, and reached inside her bag.

"Here, drink this," the curly haired girl commanded, reaching out a water bottle. Gino struggled to get up, but he could move now. He thought that for a dead person, he sure was struggling a lot. The container felt lighter than he expected. Its exterior was smooth so he was able to firmly grasp it despite his weakened state. He drank from it, and it tasted like a sweet juice with lemon, ginger, and the purest water found at the bottom of a cold waterfall. As he drank the juice, his mouth and body felt rejuvenated.

"Thank you for that," he asked, his voice a little raspier than he anticipated. He cleared his throat and asked clearer, "Where am I?"

There was a misty, human-sized mirror about a meter from his feet which reflected his beaten but alive self. If he didn't know any better, it was as if the mirror spewed him out. He clenched his jaw unconsciously when he saw his reflection, further honing his jawline. To his surprise, his ragged shirt turned into a polo shirt. There was a study table with an opened book and a lamp on the corner of the room after a short set of stairs, and sturdy shelves full of books opposite of the table. The mirror stood erect in the middle of the room, which he found odd. There was also a spotless wardrobe under the upper level, obviously cared for unlike the other things in the room. Behind him, he saw a clean whiteboard which was tilted a little to the left. A grey couch faced it like a vigilant observant. All of these things made the whole room feel like a pleasant hearth.