Song of the Fairies

Song of the Fairies

Uta. That was the name she gave us when she was asked. She said it meant 'song' in Japanese. A fitting name, I thought, as her singing voice was undoubtedly impeccable.

During the

Song of the Fairies

Uta. That was the name she gave us when she was asked. She said it meant 'song' in Japanese. A fitting name, I thought, as her singing voice was undoubtedly impeccable.

During the Japanese occupation, our tribe didn't take part in the fight as our tribe was just recently founded by Apo Serio. Back then, when I was just thirteen, we were taught how to hunt and how to live independently. Despite this, we made sure to never forget the first teaching the elders gave to us. To have respect.

Our lives were quite normal—besides of course from the occasional fights with other tribes. We lived in contentment with what we had and what we were given. I, myself, would say that the life we had back then was happy. That was until I was proven wrong.

My life took a 180 degree turn one day when my brother, one of the best hunters in our village, asked me to accompany him to get some food. Willingly, I said yes. My brother was superb with his bow and arrow. He can shoot an apple 200 meters away with his eyes closed.

That day, Doro, my brother, set his target upon a deer. It was silently and gracefully eating herb and grass. My brother aimed at the deer's head, but before he could shoot, a snake slithering around my foot made me whimper and grab him from the back. He accidentally released the arrow thus alarming the deer.

"Takara!" my brother whispered with concern, "What happened?"

I pointed at my foot, not trusting my voice. When he saw a snake twirled around my right leg, he immediately took precautionary measures as he removed the snake away from me.

"You scare easily, Takara," Doro chuckled after he had killed the reptile.

I didn't answer. Instead, I straightened myself up. When we heard an unusual rustling sound, both of us felt alarmed. That sound could only mean one of three things. A wild animal, a spy from another tribe, or we're just paranoid. We kept our guards up until a wild boar appeared from the bushes.

My brother and I, both relieved, took this opportunity to take that boar as our supper in exchange for the deer. My brother aimed his arrow and shot the animal, but instead, the 3 feet long stick struck a creature of white. The figure which was not there just a moment ago was now standing between us and the boar.

As me and my brother stood there both shocked, the creature who was shot turned around revealing a rather unusual human being.

It was a girl around my age. She was scowling, her face looked more angry at the situation than pained from the arrow. That wasn't the unusual part though. Her skin was rather pale compared to any one of our tribe members. Her eyes were small, too. Her complexion and her dress matched perfectly, but a tinge of red could be seen around her stomach where she was hit.

The arrow had hit her on the side, but luckily, it didn't go through. Blood started to drip from her hands. My instincts took over and rushed to the girl's side. As I was about to check her wound, she slapped my hand.

"Don't touch me," she ordered coldly and in a funny voice, her eyes were devoid of emotion.

"Stop complaining and be grateful," Doro walked over, obviously irritated. "You're bleeding, you need to be looked after."

I sighed, "Brother," I reprimanded.

He looked at me and I shook my head. He immediately recognized the gesture and turned around.

"Miss, can I please tend to your wound? I'm not the best healer, but I could at least clean and cover it for you," I told her reassuringly. At first, she continued on refusing, but a few minutes later, she agreed that I could help her out.

When I was finally done tending the girl's wounds, I looked around to see my brother carrying a boar probably as heavy as him. He called me to come back home.

I looked back at the girl I had just helped and sighed at my own good heartedness. I then decided on taking the girl with us. I asked to carry her on my back, careful not to open the wounds that are not yet tended to with proper equipment, but she insisted on walking on her own. Midway, the girl passed out, so I ended up carrying her anyway.

When the girl woke up three days after our encounter, a rush of relief flowed through my veins. But, that relief was short-lived. It seems that she has forgotten everything that happened prior to our meeting. Everything except her name and her origin.

Uta, she said her name was. According to her, it means 'song' in Japanese.

When everyone heard where she was from, our fellow tribesmen voted to take her far away from where we were as the occupation of the Japanese was still ongoing back then. I was the only one who pleaded to let her stay as my brother never spoke on the subject. At first, nobody agreed and everyone shunned her. Everyone except for me and eventually my brother that is.

Months passed by without any problems as other tribesmen started to see that Uta wasn't a bad person. There were still some who had doubts but little by little the villagers started to accept her. Everything was going well until the fateful day where our tribe leader, Apo Serio, grew very ill.

All the young boys in the village, ranging from 12-21, were called to participate in a ceremony. Me and my brother were two of the 73 who entered. When everyone was in, Flero, the tribe chief's second-in-command, instructed all of the participants to enter Apo Serio's bed chamber.

My brother went before me and when he went out, a concerned look on his face was evident. He looked at me, but immediately moved his gaze at something else. When my name was called, I entered the room hesitantly. I saw the tribe leader lying on his bed smiling.

"Sir?" I asked.

He looked at me and studied me with his eyes. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. I went nearer to his bed. He then reached his arm out and smiled once again. I grabbed his hand in response and leaned closer.

"Uta," he whispered ever so lightly.

I looked at him in disbelief. He was still smiling. Suddenly, he let his hand free from my own and reached for something under his pillow. It took me a moment to see that it was a picture.

Apo Serio inched the picture to me, as if asking me to look at it. There I saw a younger version of the current tribe leaders. Two young men who I have never seen before, and what shocked me most was the face of my friend Uta.

My puzzled look must have said it all. The old man lying on the bed managed a light chuckle.

"Apo Serio," I started.

He hushed me down and spoke in a hoarse voice. "Fifty years ago, most of our elders, including me, belonged to a tribe two mountains away. When we learned of the plan of our current leader that he was going to use us as a device for bloodshed, most of us decided to leave. We trekked this mountain top and took refuge here." He coughed lightly. "That was the time when I met Uta." At the mere mention of the name, I fidgeted. "She was a strange girl. She never knew any house work, but she was willing to learn. She always taught the younger kids. She helped every little person in the tribe." A smile was playing on the old man's lips.

"Back then, this tribe still had no leader. Everyone suggested their own bets, but Uta was the one who was sure that I would lead this tribe better than anyone else. She seemed to have convinced everyone of that."

Another cough came before he spoke again. "Uta, had a great voice. She always sang for me before I went to sleep." He sighed. The look on his face was both melancholic and elated. It was hard to describe. "Takara," he spoke my name after a few moments before another cough. "In our tribe, it is not the villagers who pick who is the leader. Neither is it passed down from generation to generation." His eyes were now, in a way, a bit more happy than before. "It is chosen by those supernaturalities who protect us from outside forces. One of those who protects us is Uta and she chose you."

I looked at him dumbstruck. "H-how do you know it was me she chose and n-not my brother?"

A heavy sigh came out of him before he answered my question with a sad smile. "You'll understand."

"That was the last I heard from Apo Serio as I was asked to leave the room the next moment since my time was up. Apo Serio died after that day. That was also the day I, then a 16 year old, was appointed leader. No one objected, no one was disappointed either at the way I handled things back then. My brother and some of our friends helped me."

"How about Uta, what wil--what happened to her?" The young child in front of me said.

I smiled at him in the same enigmatic way that Apo Serio did to me back then. "She was never seen again since. And it has been 50 years."

The young lad looked worried. I was also worried when I learned that Uta had gone back then. "You see, Uta chose you for a reason. It might not be clear right now, but it will be someday."

"W-will you also r-rest now, Apo Takara?"

I nodded slightly, "You're the leader now, Londre," I spoke softly as I gave him the crest of leadership.

I gave him the best grin I could as I gestured for him to leave the room. I knew I'd be leaving this tribe in good hands as I knew Uta would never fail to make the right decision.

As I closed my eyes, the song of Uta from long ago lulled me to sleep.

The old man lying on his deathbed was sure that he heard the soft and sweet singing voice of Uta. He was satisfied with that. He was satisfied in knowing that his friend was still there with him. More importantly, he was satisfied to hear her voice once again.

occupation, our tribe didn't take part in the fight as our tribe was just recently founded by Apo Serio. Back then, when I was just thirteen, we were taught how to hunt and how to live independently. Despite this, we made sure to never forget the first teaching the elders gave to us. To have respect.

Our lives were quite normal—besides of course from the occasional fights with other tribes. We lived in contentment with what we had and what we were given. I, myself, would say that the life we had back then was happy. That was until I was proven wrong.

My life took a 180 degree turn one day when my brother, one of the best hunters in our village, asked me to accompany him to get some food. Willingly, I said yes. My brother was superb with his bow and arrow. He can shoot an apple 200 meters away with his eyes closed.

That day, Doro, my brother, set his target upon a deer. It was silently and gracefully eating herb and grass. My brother aimed at the deer's head, but before he could shoot, a snake slithering around my foot made me whimper and grab him from the back. He accidentally released the arrow thus alarming the deer.

"Takara!" my brother whispered with concern, "What happened?"

I pointed at my foot, not trusting my voice. When he saw a snake twirled around my right leg, he immediately took precautionary measures as he removed the snake away from me.

"You scare easily, Takara," Doro chuckled after he had killed the reptile.

I didn't answer. Instead, I straightened myself up. When we heard an unusual rustling sound, both of us felt alarmed. That sound could only mean one of three things. A wild animal, a spy from another tribe, or we're just paranoid. We kept our guards up until a wild boar appeared from the bushes.

My brother and I, both relieved, took this opportunity to take that boar as our supper in exchange for the deer. My brother aimed his arrow and shot the animal, but instead, the 3 feet long stick struck a creature of white. The figure which was not there just a moment ago was now standing between us and the boar.

As me and my brother stood there both shocked, the creature who was shot turned around revealing a rather unusual human being.

It was a girl around my age. She was scowling, her face looked more angry at the situation than pained from the arrow. That wasn't the unusual part though. Her skin was rather pale compared to any one of our tribe members. Her eyes were small, too. Her complexion and her dress matched perfectly, but a tinge of red could be seen around her stomach where she was hit.

The arrow had hit her on the side, but luckily, it didn't go through. Blood started to drip from her hands. My instincts took over and rushed to the girl's side. As I was about to check her wound, she slapped my hand.

"Don't touch me," she ordered coldly and in a funny voice, her eyes were devoid of emotion.

"Stop complaining and be grateful," Doro walked over, obviously irritated. "You're bleeding, you need to be looked after."

I sighed, "Brother," I reprimanded.

He looked at me and I shook my head. He immediately recognized the gesture and turned around.

"Miss, can I please tend to your wound? I'm not the best healer, but I could at least clean and cover it for you," I told her reassuringly. At first, she continued on refusing, but a few minutes later, she agreed that I could help her out.

When I was finally done tending the girl's wounds, I looked around to see my brother carrying a boar probably as heavy as him. He called me to come back home.

I looked back at the girl I had just helped and sighed at my own good heartedness. I then decided on taking the girl with us. I asked to carry her on my back, careful not to open the wounds that are not yet tended to with proper equipment, but she insisted on walking on her own. Midway, the girl passed out, so I ended up carrying her anyway.

When the girl woke up three days after our encounter, a rush of relief flowed through my veins. But, that relief was short-lived. It seems that she has forgotten everything that happened prior to our meeting. Everything except her name and her origin.

Uta, she said her name was. According to her, it means 'song' in Japanese.

When everyone heard where she was from, our fellow tribesmen voted to take her far away from where we were as the occupation of the Japanese was still ongoing back then. I was the only one who pleaded to let her stay as my brother never spoke on the subject. At first, nobody agreed and everyone shunned her. Everyone except for me and eventually my brother that is.

Months passed by without any problems as other tribesmen started to see that Uta wasn't a bad person. There were still some who had doubts but little by little the villagers started to accept her. Everything was going well until the fateful day where our tribe leader, Apo Serio, grew very ill.

All the young boys in the village, ranging from 12-21, were called to participate in a ceremony. Me and my brother were two of the 73 who entered. When everyone was in, Flero, the tribe chief's second-in-command, instructed all of the participants to enter Apo Serio's bed chamber.

My brother went before me and when he went out, a concerned look on his face was evident. He looked at me, but immediately moved his gaze at something else. When my name was called, I entered the room hesitantly. I saw the tribe leader lying on his bed smiling.

"Sir?" I asked.

He looked at me and studied me with his eyes. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. I went nearer to his bed. He then reached his arm out and smiled once again. I grabbed his hand in response and leaned closer.

"Uta," he whispered ever so lightly.

I looked at him in disbelief. He was still smiling. Suddenly, he let his hand free from my own and reached for something under his pillow. It took me a moment to see that it was a picture.

Apo Serio inched the picture to me, as if asking me to look at it. There I saw a younger version of the current tribe leaders. Two young men who I have never seen before, and what shocked me most was the face of my friend Uta.

My puzzled look must have said it all. The old man lying on the bed managed a light chuckle.

"Apo Serio," I started.

He hushed me down and spoke in a hoarse voice. "Fifty years ago, most of our elders, including me, belonged to a tribe two mountains away. When we learned of the plan of our current leader that he was going to use us as a device for bloodshed, most of us decided to leave. We trekked this mountain top and took refuge here." He coughed lightly. "That was the time when I met Uta." At the mere mention of the name, I fidgeted. "She was a strange girl. She never knew any house work, but she was willing to learn. She always taught the younger kids. She helped every little person in the tribe." A smile was playing on the old man's lips.

"Back then, this tribe still had no leader. Everyone suggested their own bets, but Uta was the one who was sure that I would lead this tribe better than anyone else. She seemed to have convinced everyone of that."

Another cough came before he spoke again. "Uta, had a great voice. She always sang for me before I went to sleep." He sighed. The look on his face was both melancholic and elated. It was hard to describe. "Takara," he spoke my name after a few moments before another cough. "In our tribe, it is not the villagers who pick who is the leader. Neither is it passed down from generation to generation." His eyes were now, in a way, a bit more happy than before. "It is chosen by those supernaturalities who protect us from outside forces. One of those who protects us is Uta and she chose you."

I looked at him dumbstruck. "H-how do you know it was me she chose and n-not my brother?"

A heavy sigh came out of him before he answered my question with a sad smile. "You'll understand."

"That was the last I heard from Apo Serio as I was asked to leave the room the next moment since my time was up. Apo Serio died after that day. That was also the day I, then a 16 year old, was appointed leader. No one objected, no one was disappointed either at the way I handled things back then. My brother and some of our friends helped me."

"How about Uta, what wil--what happened to her?" The young child in front of me said.

I smiled at him in the same enigmatic way that Apo Serio did to me back then. "She was never seen again since. And it has been 50 years."

The young lad looked worried. I was also worried when I learned that Uta had gone back then. "You see, Uta chose you for a reason. It might not be clear right now, but it will be someday."

"W-will you also r-rest now, Apo Takara?"

I nodded slightly, "You're the leader now, Londre," I spoke softly as I gave him the crest of leadership.

I gave him the best grin I could as I gestured for him to leave the room. I knew I'd be leaving this tribe in good hands as I knew Uta would never fail to make the right decision.

As I closed my eyes, the song of Uta from long ago lulled me to sleep.

The old man lying on his deathbed was sure that he heard the soft and sweet singing voice of Uta. He was satisfied with that. He was satisfied in knowing that his friend was still there with him. More importantly, he was satisfied to hear her voice once again.

ck then, when I was just thirteen, we were taught how to hunt and how to live independently. Despite this, we made sure to never forget the first teaching the elders gave to us. To have respect.

Our lives were quite normal—besides of course from the occasional fights with other tribes. We lived in contentment with what we had and what we were given. I, myself, would say that the life we had back then was happy. That was until I was proven wrong.

My life took a 180 degree turn one day when my brother, one of the best hunters in our village, asked me to accompany him to get some food. Willingly, I said yes. My brother was superb with his bow and arrow. He can shoot an apple 200 meters away with his eyes closed.

That day, Doro, my brother, set his target upon a deer. It was silently and gracefully eating herb and grass. My brother aimed at the deer's head, but before he could shoot, a snake slithering around my foot made me whimper and grab him from the back. He accidentally released the arrow thus alarming the deer.

"Takara!" my brother whispered with concern, "What happened?"

I pointed at my foot, not trusting my voice. When he saw a snake twirled around my right leg, he immediately took precautionary measures as he removed the snake away from me.

"You scare easily, Takara," Doro chuckled after he had killed the reptile.

I didn't answer. Instead, I straightened myself up. When we heard an unusual rustling sound, both of us felt alarmed. That sound could only mean one of three things. A wild animal, a spy from another tribe, or we're just paranoid. We kept our guards up until a wild boar appeared from the bushes.

My brother and I, both relieved, took this opportunity to take that boar as our supper in exchange for the deer. My brother aimed his arrow and shot the animal, but instead, the 3 feet long stick struck a creature of white. The figure which was not there just a moment ago was now standing between us and the boar.

As me and my brother stood there both shocked, the creature who was shot turned around revealing a rather unusual human being.

It was a girl around my age. She was scowling, her face looked more angry at the situation than pained from the arrow. That wasn't the unusual part though. Her skin was rather pale compared to any one of our tribe members. Her eyes were small, too. Her complexion and her dress matched perfectly, but a tinge of red could be seen around her stomach where she was hit.

The arrow had hit her on the side, but luckily, it didn't go through. Blood started to drip from her hands. My instincts took over and rushed to the girl's side. As I was about to check her wound, she slapped my hand.

"Don't touch me," she ordered coldly and in a funny voice, her eyes were devoid of emotion.

"Stop complaining and be grateful," Doro walked over, obviously irritated. "You're bleeding, you need to be looked after."

I sighed, "Brother," I reprimanded.

He looked at me and I shook my head. He immediately recognized the gesture and turned around.

"Miss, can I please tend to your wound? I'm not the best healer, but I could at least clean and cover it for you," I told her reassuringly. At first, she continued on refusing, but a few minutes later, she agreed that I could help her out.

When I was finally done tending the girl's wounds, I looked around to see my brother carrying a boar probably as heavy as him. He called me to come back home.

I looked back at the girl I had just helped and sighed at my own good heartedness. I then decided on taking the girl with us. I asked to carry her on my back, careful not to open the wounds that are not yet tended to with proper equipment, but she insisted on walking on her own. Midway, the girl passed out, so I ended up carrying her anyway.

When the girl woke up three days after our encounter, a rush of relief flowed through my veins. But, that relief was short-lived. It seems that she has forgotten everything that happened prior to our meeting. Everything except her name and her origin.

Uta, she said her name was. According to her, it means 'song' in Japanese.

When everyone heard where she was from, our fellow tribesmen voted to take her far away from where we were as the occupation of the Japanese was still ongoing back then. I was the only one who pleaded to let her stay as my brother never spoke on the subject. At first, nobody agreed and everyone shunned her. Everyone except for me and eventually my brother that is.

Months passed by without any problems as other tribesmen started to see that Uta wasn't a bad person. There were still some who had doubts but little by little the villagers started to accept her. Everything was going well until the fateful day where our tribe leader, Apo Serio, grew very ill.

All the young boys in the village, ranging from 12-21, were called to participate in a ceremony. Me and my brother were two of the 73 who entered. When everyone was in, Flero, the tribe chief's second-in-command, instructed all of the participants to enter Apo Serio's bed chamber.

My brother went before me and when he went out, a concerned look on his face was evident. He looked at me, but immediately moved his gaze at something else. When my name was called, I entered the room hesitantly. I saw the tribe leader lying on his bed smiling.

"Sir?" I asked.

He looked at me and studied me with his eyes. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. I went nearer to his bed. He then reached his arm out and smiled once again. I grabbed his hand in response and leaned closer.

"Uta," he whispered ever so lightly.

I looked at him in disbelief. He was still smiling. Suddenly, he let his hand free from my own and reached for something under his pillow. It took me a moment to see that it was a picture.

Apo Serio inched the picture to me, as if asking me to look at it. There I saw a younger version of the current tribe leaders. Two young men who I have never seen before, and what shocked me most was the face of my friend Uta.

My puzzled look must have said it all. The old man lying on the bed managed a light chuckle.

"Apo Serio," I started.

He hushed me down and spoke in a hoarse voice. "Fifty years ago, most of our elders, including me, belonged to a tribe two mountains away. When we learned of the plan of our current leader that he was going to use us as a device for bloodshed, most of us decided to leave. We trekked this mountain top and took refuge here." He coughed lightly. "That was the time when I met Uta." At the mere mention of the name, I fidgeted. "She was a strange girl. She never knew any house work, but she was willing to learn. She always taught the younger kids. She helped every little person in the tribe." A smile was playing on the old man's lips.

"Back then, this tribe still had no leader. Everyone suggested their own bets, but Uta was the one who was sure that I would lead this tribe better than anyone else. She seemed to have convinced everyone of that."

Another cough came before he spoke again. "Uta, had a great voice. She always sang for me before I went to sleep." He sighed. The look on his face was both melancholic and elated. It was hard to describe. "Takara," he spoke my name after a few moments before another cough. "In our tribe, it is not the villagers who pick who is the leader. Neither is it passed down from generation to generation." His eyes were now, in a way, a bit more happy than before. "It is chosen by those supernaturalities who protect us from outside forces. One of those who protects us is Uta and she chose you."

I looked at him dumbstruck. "H-how do you know it was me she chose and n-not my brother?"

A heavy sigh came out of him before he answered my question with a sad smile. "You'll understand."

"That was the last I heard from Apo Serio as I was asked to leave the room the next moment since my time was up. Apo Serio died after that day. That was also the day I, then a 16 year old, was appointed leader. No one objected, no one was disappointed either at the way I handled things back then. My brother and some of our friends helped me."

"How about Uta, what wil--what happened to her?" The young child in front of me said.

I smiled at him in the same enigmatic way that Apo Serio did to me back then. "She was never seen again since. And it has been 50 years."

The young lad looked worried. I was also worried when I learned that Uta had gone back then. "You see, Uta chose you for a reason. It might not be clear right now, but it will be someday."

"W-will you also r-rest now, Apo Takara?"

I nodded slightly, "You're the leader now, Londre," I spoke softly as I gave him the crest of leadership.

I gave him the best grin I could as I gestured for him to leave the room. I knew I'd be leaving this tribe in good hands as I knew Uta would never fail to make the right decision.

As I closed my eyes, the song of Uta from long ago lulled me to sleep.

The old man lying on his deathbed was sure that he heard the soft and sweet singing voice of Uta. He was satisfied with that. He was satisfied in knowing that his friend was still there with him. More importantly, he was satisfied to hear her voice once again.