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Chapter I: Prologue
The first rays of dawn spill over the small, sleepy town of Bantaoan, painting the horizon in soft hues of orange and pink. Inside a modest two-story house, a faint rustling breaks the quiet. Upstairs, the alarm clock on a wooden nightstand buzzes sharply. A slender hand reaches out to silence it.
Eliza Mae P. Flores, known to everyone as Liz, blinks away the remnants of sleep. Her brown eyes sweep across the room, still bathed in the faint glow of dawn. She swings her legs off the bed, the cold wooden floor biting at her feet.
"Another day," she murmurs to herself, stretching before heading to the bathroom.
The sound of running water fills the small space. Liz shivers slightly as the cool water cascades over her, waking her completely. Moments later, she emerges, refreshed, and quickly dons her neatly pressed uniform—a white blouse and a plaid skirt that reaches just above her knees. The emblem of her school, the prestigious Colegio Metropolitana de San Pablo, is stitched neatly onto her blouse.
Downstairs, the warm aroma of fried rice and eggs greets her. At the dining table sit her aunts, Dolores and Dominga, with her grandmother at the head of the table. They're already halfway through their breakfast.
"Buenas Diaz, Liz," Aunt Dolores says, her voice gentle but teasing.
"You took your time. Nervous about your first day back?"
Liz smiles faintly, pulling out a chair.
"Not really. I'm ready." Her voice carries a quiet determination.
Grandma sets her fork down, her wrinkled hands clasping together.
"Ready or not, hija, the bus won't wait. You have everything, yes? Your books? Your lunch?"
"Yes, Abuelita. Everything's in my bag," Liz replies.
Her gaze drifts to the packed meal sitting on the table—wrapped neatly in banana leaves—and she tucks it into her bag.
"Bueno (Good). You know how the city is. Always busy. Make sure you stay safe," Aunt Dominga adds, her tone serious.
After finishing her breakfast, Liz stands and slings her bag over her shoulder.
"I'll be fine. I promise."
Her grandma pats her shoulder gently.
"Come, let's not waste time."
The two step outside into the crisp morning air. The streets of Bantaoan are still quiet, save for the occasional rooster crowing or the faint chatter of neighbors starting their day. Together, they walk to the highway where a few people are already waiting for the morning bus.
When the bus finally arrives with a loud honk, Liz turns to her grandmother.
"I'll see you soon, Abuelita."
"God bless you, hija. Take care," her grandmother says, smiling warmly. Liz nods, then steps onto the bus.
Inside, the air is filled with a mix of early commuters' conversations and the faint hum of the engine. Liz finds a seat by the window. As the bus pulls away, she glances back at her grandmother, now a shrinking figure on the roadside. A pang of homesickness tugs at her chest, but she shakes it off.
The view outside begins to change. The lush greenery of Bantaoan gives way to the busier streets of San Agustin. This town, known as a prominent pilgrim center, is equipped with a shrine of a miraculous image and a strategic watchtower. Liz's eyes linger on the grand facade of the Shrine they pass, its twin towers tolling faintly in the distance.
Ahead looms the gateway to Ciudad Fernandina, its iconic archway welcoming travelers to the bustling city. Liz's heart beats a little faster.
"Almost there," she whispers to herself.
The bus slows as it approaches Plaza Saldivar, a vibrant lush garden park surrounded by ornate colonial buildings. Liz steps off, the cobblestones beneath her feet clicking lightly as she adjusts her footing. Around her, the city comes alive with vendors setting up stalls, office workers hurrying along, and the distant sound of church bells echoing through the air.
Liz makes her way through the cobblestone streets, marveling at the city's beauty. The skyline is a blend of old-world charm and modern touches, with the sun casting a golden glow over the intricate details of the buildings. As she passes the Grand Catedral Metropolitana de San Pablo, she slows, craning her neck to take in the magnificent buttresses and stained-glass windows. The cathedral seems to whisper of timeless faith and resilience.
At last, Liz arrives at the gates of Colegio Metropolitana de San Pablo. The wrought-iron gates are imposing, their intricate designs gleaming in the sunlight. She hesitates, her fingers gripping the strap of her bag tightly. Her chest rises and falls as she takes a deep breath.
"You can do this," she mutters. But as she steps closer, a memory surfaces, unbidden.
A man's voice—calm, firm, and anonymous—echoes in her mind.
"Be disciplined, Liz. Be behaved. Whatever they say about you, do not let it distract you. You are stronger than their words."
The memory lingers for a moment, wrapping around her like a protective shield. Liz blinks, shaking herself free of the past.
"Right. I'm stronger."
With renewed resolve, she steps through the gates. The cobblestone path winds its way to the main building, a grand structure adorned with arches and columns. Students mill about, some chatting in groups, others hurrying to their classes. Liz blends into the flow, her heart pounding but her steps steady.
As she walks further into the campus, the weight of her new journey settles over her. This is her chance—to prove herself, to embrace her dreams, and to uncover the mysteries that lie ahead. Liz straightens her back and lifts her chin. Today is only the beginning.
As she walks into her classroom, a familiar voice rings out behind her.
"Liz!"
Liz turns, startled, and is immediately enveloped in a tight hug.
"Wyn!" she exclaims, her surprise melting into a bright smile. Wynona Reina G. Perez—or Wyn, as she's better known—grins back at her.
"I missed you! The summer was so long without you," Wyn says, releasing her but keeping an arm around Liz's shoulder.
"I missed you too," Liz replies.
"I was worried we wouldn't be in the same class this year."
"Like that'd ever happen," Wyn teases.
"Come on, we need to catch up after class. You won't believe what happened at my cousin's wedding."
Before Liz can respond, the sharp sound of the school bell echoes through the halls. The two exchange a glance and hurry out of the classroom.
The school grounds are abuzz with activity as students gather for the morning flag ceremony. Liz and Wyn take their place among the rows of students. The sun now shines brightly, casting long shadows across the neatly trimmed lawn.
The ceremony begins with a prayer, followed by the singing of the national anthem and the pledges. The crowd falls silent as a man steps onto the stage.
"Good morning, students," the man says, his voice warm and resonant.
"Welcome to another school year at Colegio Metropolitana de San Pablo."
It is Fr. Emilio R. Donato, the school's president. His kind eyes sweep across the students as he continues,
"This year, I encourage each of you to strive for excellence in all you do. Remember, you are not only here to learn but also to grow into individuals who will make a difference in the world."
The students applaud, and Fr. Donato steps aside. A younger man takes his place, adjusting his glasses before speaking.
"Good morning," he begins.
"I am Bro. Alfie Padilla, head of the Campus Ministry. I invite all of you to join us in serving our community and growing in faith."
As he speaks, Liz's mind drifts to another memory. The anonymous voice echoes again:
"If you want to be an altar server, I will be proud. Serving God is the greatest honor, no matter how small the role. Don't worry; I will teach you everything you need to know."
Liz's heart swells with emotion, and her fingers tighten around the strap of her bag.
I'll do it. I'll join and make him proud, she thinks, determination blazing in her eyes.
The applause snaps her back to the present. Wyn nudges her.
"You okay? You zoned out there."
Liz nods, a small smile playing on her lips.
"I'm fine. Just...thinking."
As the students disperse, Liz silently resolves to visit the Campus Ministry later. Her path is clear, and she knows she must take the first step.
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