Nelson Dino
The sea had turned restless, its once calm surface now a churning mess of waves. A young lady stood on the edge of her father’s boat, the wooden frame creaking under the strain of the storm. She held tight to the worn railing, her knuckles white with effort, eyes wide as the sky grew darker. The winds howled, ripping through the sails and sending the boat veering off course. Panic flickered in her chest, a wild, erratic heartbeat that seemed to sync with the pounding rain. Her father’s voice, calling her name—Lundang—was swallowed by the roaring sea as furious waves battered the boat. Then, a deafening crack echoed through the storm, the sound of wood splintering, and suddenly, the world tilted violently.
Everything was water.
She was flung into the icy embrace of the ocean, the shock of it stealing her breath. The waves surged over her, pulling her down and spinning her in a dizzying swirl beneath the surface. The salt stung her eyes, and her lungs screamed for air, but she fought against the current, kicking her legs frantically. Just as darkness began to close in, she broke through the surface, gulping down the air in ragged gasps. The sea raged around her, merciless and unyielding, but she clung to consciousness, driven by a fierce will to survive.
The storm seemed to rage on forever, but finally, the winds began to die down. The waves still tossed the young lady about, but with less force, and she found herself floating in the water, exhausted but alive. The night sky had cleared, revealing a scattering of stars overhead, dim and distant but still there, like silent witnesses to her struggle. She felt a sudden stillness as if the sea had finally relented, allowing her a moment of peace. Her limbs ached, her body battered and bruised, but the fight had gone out of the ocean, leaving her to drift on the quiet, moonlit waves.
Time lost its meaning as she floated there, alone and adrift. But then, out of the endless blue, something changed. A gentle but insistent current began to carry her away from the open sea. She was too weak to resist and tired to care, so she let it guide her, hoping it would lead her to safety.
When she awoke, she was no longer in the water. The ground beneath her was solid, calm, and covered in soft, damp earth. She blinked against the harsh sunlight, the scent of greenery filling her lungs. Slowly, she sat up, feeling the sun’s warmth on her skin and the grass’s softness under her hands. She looked around, taking in her surroundings.
She was on land—dry land, lush and green, with trees towering overhead. The air was thick with the scent of rain, earth, and birds calling from the branches. She pushed herself to her feet, unsteady but determined, her damp clothes clinging to her body. She took a few tentative steps, feeling the earth give slightly beneath her weight, the grass brushing against her ankles.
Ahead of her, rising out of the forest like a silent sentinel, was Bud Bongao. The peak loomed above her, its slopes covered in dense, green vegetation. Seeing it filled her with an inexplicable sense of calm as if the mountain were a familiar friend watching over her. She couldn’t remember how she got here, but the show didn’t matter. All that mattered was that she was safe.
As she made her way through the forest, she noticed movement in the trees above her. Monkeys, their dark eyes bright with curiosity, leaped from branch to branch, chattering amongst themselves. They watched her with interest, their small faces expressive as if they were wondering what she was doing in their domain. She smiled up at them, feeling a strange kinship with these creatures of the wild. They seemed to sense her peaceful intent, for they did not flee but followed her progress through the forest, swinging from vine to vine.
The path was narrow, winding through the dense foliage, leading her closer to the peak. She followed it without hesitation, driven by an instinct she couldn’t quite explain. The air grew cooler as she ascended, the trees thinning out to reveal more of the sky above. Finally, she emerged into a small clearing, where the trees parted to reveal a breathtaking view of the sea beyond. The vast blue expanse stretched before her, glittering in the sunlight, calm and serene as if the storm had never been.
She stood there, transfixed by the sight, her heart swelling with awe and gratitude. She had survived. The sea had spared her, and now she was standing on this sacred mountain, looking out over the world. It felt like a blessing, a gift from the universe, a reminder of the fragility of life and strength within her.
“You see it too, don’t you?”
The voice was deep, warm, and full of understanding. The young lady turned to find a man standing at the edge of the clearing, partially hidden in the shade of the trees. His beard was long and white, his eyes kind, with a wisdom stretching beyond the years. He stepped forward, his movements slow and deliberate, like someone who had lived many lifetimes.
She nodded, unable to find her voice, her gaze drifting back to the sea, and asked, “How do you know my name?”
“It’s like a current,” he said, standing beside her. “Your name is like a life, as it means a “close friend.” Sometimes, it’s calm; sometimes, it’s rough. But it’s always moving, always changing and tough like the peak of this mountain.”
She felt his words settle into her heart, deep and true, like the roots of a tree. They stood silently as the sea whispered its ancient secrets and the sun slowly descended toward the horizon.
Her name echoed in the rhythm of the currents, a melody tangled in her life as her memories unfolded. With her plan and her father setting their sights on Sandakan, the waves in the Sulu Sea rose and fell. Their journey faltered, leaving them adrift, their lives stretching into a vast, uncertain expanse—her father was never found again!
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