Be Strong As Evergreens

Written by: Maria Catipay

Artwork by: Andrea Lastimosa

The world had become a face Wayan could barely recognize, yet even this stranger still found ways to reintroduce itself as an old friend. She turns on the news before she heads to the kitchen to make breakfast, the newscaster plainly announces;

“Mangrove forests are more resilient than scientists once thought. They’re now seeing a rebound in numbers all around the world, especially their notable stabilization in Southeast Asia.” the newscaster began, “The findings were confirmed through NASA satellite imagery…” The newscaster continued but Wayan could no longer help the smile growing on her face. 

“I see,” she thinks, “So it's time to fight back again,” she murmured. As she continued preparing for her meal, “Thank you for keeping on.” She pauses to stare at the window. It was a sunny day without any clouds in the sky. She feels like she has a clear view of heaven and can see the faces of those who reside in it. 

It was like looking at a stranger with familiar eyes. 

“I’m glad we made it this far.” She leaves the kitchen behind and heads to open her balcony to let that breeze in before she steps out to lean on the railing. “It's you,” she says with a smile toward the sky. “Despite everything, it’s still you.” 

Wayan closes her eyes and her mind brings her back to a time when civilization was new. Kingdoms rose and fell, as the crown tumbled from one head to another. Back then she was still a human, back then she was just a child. 

She was a daughter. Her father was a Feudal Lord of the Western Lands. 

She was a sister. Her brother was deemed a failure of an heir. 

“Kamia,” she utters his name. In the present, it has been so long since the words had left her lips, “My older brother, you always tend to leave. I’m the one who always stays behind.” she recounts, “I suppose it was destined in our birth. You were a weak babe who didn't cry. I was born with a spark in my eyes. It meant you were nothing to our father––but for me, it still leaves you as my brother.” And then, she clenches the railing, she grits her teeth. 

Even now, she still questions it. “So why couldn’t heaven look past you too? Why were you the one chosen?” she couldn’t bear it, “You don’t deserve it.” she snarls, “Why? Why couldn’t it have left you alone? I could’ve been strong enough for the both of us.” she confesses, even to this day she couldn’t help but ponder on what could’ve been if she was chosen instead, “Would you have been spared?” she asks, “No, it was either you or the rest of the world.”

Her brother was never going to choose himself, precisely why he was chosen by the skies. 

He was the perfect sacrifice. 

“It all started when you were just thirteen years old, the end of your life was determined so young.” she remembered, “They said that man was made in God’s image: one hand to reign over the clouds, the other to maintain order here on Earth. You were Heaven’s Hand here. At thirteen years old, you were bestowed the gift to decide what grows and what decays upon soil.” 

Suddenly, Wayan was twelve years old again. 

She sometimes wonders if she ever stopped being twelve. 

Time moved on, and seasons passed by, her memories became a vast library. But sometimes, she wonders if she ever left that day in her father’s throne room. She wonders if the door was always open for her to leave or if she was locked inside it for good. 

“Six months have passed since you were chosen.” 

It was getting harder to breathe. 

“The world that abandoned you now revolved around you. Suddenly, you were the rightful heir and the father had a son again.” Her heart was racing. She wanted to run away. She wanted to run towards her brother embedded in her mind. “You were loved.” She wished she could breathe a sigh of relief, “No. You were used.” 

Their father, after all, took his divine son as a mandate from God. He believed it was a sign that he was gifted the divine right to rule. 

“Let us use your gift for the future of our people, my son.” She and Kamia were down on their knees before him, “You have grown in your mastery to contort life. Flowers cannot bloom without your permission. Harvests cannot flourish without your will. You are the reason this world flourished.” their father began, “But still, the land remains divided under many flags. It should be united under its provider’s name.” She sees the way Kamia’s shoulder tenses, “Let us make this world as it's supposed to be. Let us remake it in your image. Surely, this is heaven’s will. You wouldn’t be bestowed such power otherwise.”

And then, something strange happened, Wayan recounts. 

Her brother stood in their father’s presence. It was the first time he carried himself with pride. 

“I have a duty to this world, father, and I will see it through to the end,” he says.

He stands his ground, he has something to fight for now, 

“My duty is to allow life to thrive, not to dominate it. If this is heaven’s will, I would’ve been made master of life and death. However, I have no authority over human life.” 

His gaze never wavers. 

“This mission is madness.” 

“Why?” her voice nearly merged with her father’s. “Why did you have to be so brave? You were always so weak until that day?”

Kamia didn’t retract his stance. 

The weapon their father sought to wield became his greatest threat.

And with this, he was exiled to be lost at sea, where he has no power.

“Father began the industrialization of our land soon afterwards.” Wayan recounts, “And with every flag that falls, he would cut down their trees and burn down their fields to make sure you would be powerless even if you manage to return. He wanted a world he could control, so he brought about the world of man. It was a world of war.” and Wayan saw her fair share of bloodshed. 

By the time she was eighteen, the war had spread everywhere. A war of alliances, a war against enemies. A war for glory, a war for revenge. 

When she came of age, none of it seemed to matter—but the fate of the world was on her shoulders. When she held the lives of so many in her hands, it was when she had given up her own.

“It didn’t matter how much we’d burn down. One way or another, nature seemed to grow back somewhere, everywhere! We never did escape you, big brother. Were you laughing at us from afar?” and then she confessed, “I hated the mangroves most of all. They thrive in water, where you were meant to be powerless. They even grow on muddy soil—a bridge for you to cross between land and sea. Did they bloom out of mockery?” 

By the time she was twenty, Wayan wanted to burn down her world. 

She was traveling with the navy when they were ambushed by troops hiding amidst the mangrove forest by the shore. Heavily outnumbered, and the fear of shame lacing them if she survived with a loss, it gave her an escape. It was the perfect reason to end it all. 

She let all those who wanted to leave depart. Afterward, when she was nearly alone, she detonated all the explosives her ship was transporting by herself. Her world was up in flames, her body swallowed by the water, covered in burns, enough of her survived to wash upon the shoreline. 

The sand was soft, she felt a hand caress her face. She mistook the touch for rain until she opened her eyes.

And there was her brother. 

“How are you here?” 

“Fool, I’m where nature fights back,” he murmured. He, too, was covered in burns and scars, so badly wounded that she was surprised he was still alive. She guessed it was the will of the divine that he couldn't die. “Did you really want to destroy everything?” 

“It was the only way to stop,” she answered weakly. His hands stopped, but his eyes became clear. Resolve settled in his eyes. He wanted to weather the storm of confusion in his sister’s mind. 

“You want to destroy yourself,” he concludes, 

“Yes.” She felt his grip on her shoulders tighten.

“Wayan, I think I want to go back to being human,” he admits. “I think this gift is destroying me.” he confesses as he leans down so that their forehead might touch, “I want you to keep on going, even when everything is destroyed, I want you to move on. I don’t think a mere human can do that.” he stops and only their breathing fills the air, “Hey, you always knew I’d be turned into a sacrifice, right? Won’t you let me be selfish this time?” 

“Idealistic and naive, you were bound to run away from the weight of this destiny.” Wayan whispered, “You were bound to leave me.” 

“This time, I'm not leaving you unarmed,” he promises. “I’ve been fighting for so long, and I want to keep fighting, but it isn’t living anymore. I want you to live on, and I just want to remember what it’s like to be human again.” he beseeches, “It’s time for you to take over from here.”

And with a final kiss on her hair, Wayan is bestowed a choice after a long time of orders. 

She could either be her father’s perfect daughter, a divine weapon to win the war, or destroy her old self. 

“Life always yields to the light of the sun.” It would be the last time she’d hear Kamia’s voice, and in the centuries that followed, she finds she’s slowly forgetting his face but never the warmth of his touch. 

“Kamia…” she calls out as her strength returns, and a body falls beside her, “Kamia, wake up! Kamia, get up! Kamia!” and she swore she saw it, she swore her brother got up and patted her on the head before he stood up and walked away, “You're leaving me again.”

He left his body behind. 

And just like his promise, he didn’t leave her unarmed. 

Kamia had become human again, and with that, he was allowed to die. Wayan had destroyed her old self. Her ideals had burned with the war, and her duty to her father had been discarded in exchange for the role Heaven had given her. There was nothing left for her to fight for, so she would fight for the whole world. Heaven. There was nothing left for her to fight for, so she must now fight for the whole world. 

But most importantly, Kamia’s wish came true, Wayan will go further. It was on that day that Kamia got to fight back. 

And Wayan—Wayan will have her days in the sun, too.

“No one ever thanked us for surviving as long as we had.” Wayan says as she takes a final look at the sky, no longer drenched in sea water but the breeze of spring returning to the modern world. “For the longest time, I wanted to leave it all behind. I tried more than once. Yet every time I looked away, famine claimed as many lives as war.” She looks down now to the view beneath her, she looks at the buzzing street and the rising skyscrapers, “But mankind still continues to live on, so I must, too. I couldn’t let them beat me. Like everyone else in this world, I had to face the one reality in front of me.” Somehow, she finds it within herself to smile, “the wars have never ended, mankind still can’t coexist with other lives on earth. Sometimes, I wonder if I still hate them.” she admits, “No. I hate humanity not for what it is but for what it chose to become.” She says, “I admire the human spirit. It’s fleeting, fragile, but somehow it refuses to break. It’s extraordinary.” 

She enters her apartment, but keeps the door open to let the breeze in, “And even if they continue to destroy this world, If I keep going, the time will surely come when I can fight back now and then. And all I can say is thank you, big brother, thanks for not letting me give up. Thanks for showing me that I don't need to love the whole world to forgive myself.” She says, 

“It’s you. Despite everything, it’s still you. So... see you.” She had promised a thousand times now, she’ll promise a thousand times more.