Natan had no idea how he had ended up there. The last thing he remembered was falling into a strange light, and now, he stood in the heart of a primordial, ancient forest. The surroundings were breathtaking—trees towered into the sky like giants, their leaves glowing with a natural radiance of blue and purple. Fireflies danced in the air, and the scent of damp earth mixed with exotic flowers was captivating.
Yet, this beauty was deceptive. Natan did not know that the magical paradise he stepped upon was Madilimay, the most dangerous territory, where ghouls and horse-headed demons lurked.
Suddenly, the surroundings fell silent. The fireflies vanished, and the gentle breeze gave way to a heavy, suffocating aura.
Rustle.
From the sprawling roots of a massive banyan tree, a shadow slowly emerged. Natan's eyes widened. It had the body of a man, but the head of a fierce horse. Its muscles were like iron, standing nearly twice the height of a normal human. Its eyes burned with a wrathful red. It was a Tikbalang.
Before Natan could move, the creature lunged. In an instant, it stood right before him.
"H-Hold on—!" It was too late. A powerful blow from the creature's arm struck Natan in the chest.
CRASH!
Natan was thrown several meters, slamming into a hard trunk. He felt his ribs crack. He was barely catching his breath when he heard the heavy thud of hooves. Using every last drop of strength, Natan scrambled to his feet and ran. A desperate sprint for survival. Terror consumed his entire being.
Human speed was no match for the monster's power. It overtook him again. With every kick and strike, Natan was launched into the air, crashing back to the dirt, slowly bleeding out. Beaten, bloodied, and barely able to open his eyes, he could feel the cold creep of death.
The Tikbalang stopped over him, raising its massive hoof to deliver the final blow.
In those final moments, a story his grandfather had told him as a child flashed through Natan's mind. "If you ever face a Tikbalang, Natan... never give up. Look for a golden hair on its nape or brow. If you pluck it, you can tame it."
Natan summoned his last reserve of strength. Instead of dodging, he pulled himself up and wrapped his arms around the monster's neck as the hoof came down. Before he could be thrown off, he caught sight of three strands of glowing golden hair near its nape. Reaching out with all his might, he closed his eyes and yanked them out!
"ARKKKKKK!"
The Tikbalang roared in pain and fury. It thrashed and bucked, trying to throw Natan off. Yet, for some inexplicable reason, its voice—once mere growls—turned into clear words in Natan's ears.
"Release me, vile mortal! Insolent fool! How do you know my weakness?!" the creature bellowed.
Natan lay on the ground, clutching the golden hair. "I... I can understand you..." he whispered.
Seeing his golden hair in Natan's hand, the Tikbalang froze. Its blazing fury turned into utter shock, until it gradually calmed down. It adjusted its posture and crossed its arms, though irritation remained clear on its face.
"Tsk. What terrible luck," the creature grumbled in a deep, baritone voice. "I am Gazzaro, one of the Royal Guards of the Tikbalete Kingdom here in Madilimay. And you, mortal, officially own me... for now."
Natan panted heavily. "Gazzaro... I don't want to hurt you. I just want to live."
"I know the laws of my kind," Gazzaro replied, rolling his large eyes. "Because you plucked my golden hair, I am bound to grant you one request. Speak then, before I change my mind and let the drooling ghouls nearby devour you."
Natan thought quickly. He needed safety and information. "I want you to take me to a safe city. A place where I can get weapons... and as we travel, explain to me what kind of world I've been brought into."
Gazzaro stared at him for a long moment. "A city and knowledge? A simple request, mortal. Very well, a deal is a deal."
A swirl of white smoke suddenly engulfed Gazzaro. When it cleared, the terrifying half-man, half-horse monster had transformed. In his place stood a magnificent, normal horse—with a sleek black coat, a proud stance, and a golden gleam in his eyes.
"Get on, before you bleed to death down there," Gazzaro's voice echoed in Natan's mind.
With what little strength he had left, Natan mounted the horse. As they began walking away from Madilimay, a strange dread washed over him. He could feel countless heavy, dangerous gazes watching from the darkness of the trees—eyes waiting for an opportunity. Yet no matter where he looked with his human eyes, he saw nothing but shadow.
"Don't look back," Gazzaro warned, picking up the pace. "They smell human blood. But while you are on my back, no ghoul will dare cross a Royal Guard of Tikbalete. Hold on tight, mortal. You have a long story ahead of you."
As they traversed the dark forest paths, a heavy silence settled over Natan. Swaying to the rhythm of Gazzaro's stride, his mind drifted back to the human world—specifically to his sister, Maya.
He remembered their last conversation. A painful scene inside a cold, white hospital room. He could still hear her weak voice as she lay in bed, surrounded by tubes.
"Kuya, I'm tired," Maya had wept, clutching his trembling hand. "I'd rather die than watch you suffer because of me. You work every night without sleep, pushing yourself until you're sick, just for my medicine. I don't want to be a burden anymore..."
The memory pierced Natan's heart like a blade. In the dark of the night, tears quietly fell down his cheeks.
Gazzaro felt a slight tremor in his rider's body, along with a sudden weight of emotion.
"Hey, mortal," Gazzaro's voice resonated in his mind, serious yet teasing. "Don't go dropping your tears on my coat. I hate water. It's a pain to dry off, and I'd rather not smell like a wet dog instead of a majestic steed."
Natan let out a soft laugh, wiping his eyes with his forearm. "Sorry. Just remembered something."
"Good to know you still remember how to laugh. I thought the ghouls drove you mad," Gazzaro said. The horse continued running before speaking again. "I've been wondering... how did you actually end up in this world? What did you do? Did you deliberately anger a High Elven Priest to get yourself banished here?"
Natan shook his head, gazing at the giant trees rushing past them. "I don't know if it was an Elven Priest. All I know is... I committed a crime against a magical creature who wasn't from our world. As punishment, I was brought here. I have a mission to complete."
"A mission? Sounds like your story runs deeper than I thought," Gazzaro said, his interest piqued.
"Your turn," Natan shifted the subject. "Where are you taking me, exactly? You mentioned a safe city."
"Ah, our destination," Gazzaro replied, a touch of pride in his voice. "I am taking you to a place called Bato-Balani. It is a city built inside a colossal magnetic mountain. Because of the intense magnetic energy there, no flying monster or enemy can approach—they are instantly pulled down to the ground if they try to fly."
"A magnetic city?" Natan asked in awe.
"More than that," Gazzaro continued. "It is also home to ancient stone magic and the finest blacksmiths in the entire region. If it is weapons and safety you seek, nowhere compares to Bato-Balani. There, you will be safe... more or less."
Natan and Gazzaro entered a narrow, gloomy path walled by massive vines covered in sharp thorns. This was the Labyrinth of Subyang, a perilous yet swift shortcut to Bato-Balani. As Gazzaro carefully navigated past vines that seemed to move with a predatory life of their own, he spoke again to ease Natan's fear.
"The world you stand in now, mortal, is called Eldoria," Gazzaro's deep voice began in Natan's mind. "And Eldoria is divided into five great regions. Each has its own laws and dangers."
"Five regions?" Natan asked, gripping the horse's sleek coat tighter.
"Yes. The first is Luminaya—the realm of wealth and luxury. There you will find gold and jewels that your entire lifetime could never buy. It is where high gods and spirits gather to feast and parley. It is magnificent, yet rotten with pretense and politics."
Gazzaro swerved slightly to avoid a vine that suddenly snapped downward. "The second is Kislap-Awan. Home to Elves, Fairies, and Merfolk. The true heart of that region is the Valley of Aduenna—a kingdom built upon a floating valley. Everyone who dwells there is of high noble blood. Proud, arrogant creatures."
"And the place we just came from?" Natan asked again.
"Ah, before our territory, the third is Berdantia. Home to earth spirits and subterranean dwellers. It is filled with vast, rich green plains, but do not be fooled. Every corner of Berdantia hides dungeons packed with traps and monsters. The fourth is Madilimay, where we met—the bastion of dark magic, and home to us Tikbalang and ghouls."
Gazzaro slowed his pace as a loud roar echoed in the distance. "And the fifth, the last one... is Kasagutan. A wild, chaotic, undiscovered region. It is crawling with aggressive beasts guarding their domain. Some of them are escapees from Dalakan."
Natan frowned, unsettled by the last word. "What is that place? Dalakan..."
Gazzaro paused briefly, casting a glance back at Natan with a gleaming golden eye. "There is one thing the mortal realm and Eldoria share, Natan... the existence of Dalakan and Kamurawayan. Dalakan is the underworld, ruled by Sitan. And Kamurawayan is the heavens, where Bathala resides."
Natan nodded, feeling a chill run down his spine alongside a strange sense of clarity. "I see... that means we all came from the same origin."
"Precisely," Gazzaro answered, resuming his march through the labyrinth. "So if you are looking for the Elf who captured you and threw you here in Eldoria, chances are high you will find him in the region of Kislap-Awan. Though..."
"Though what?"
Gazzaro chuckled softly in Natan's mind. "...You will only manage that if you can convince those arrogant nobles to let a filthy, bloodstained mortal like you inside. So pray that we secure strong weapons in Bato-Balani, because the path to retrieving your relics will be far from easy."