I have always known darkness.
It has always been my friend. It has always been my enemy. Some days it is a mist over my eyes, leaving me blind to what should be so obvious… but some days I wipe that fog away, and realize I see more clearly in its aftermath than I ever had before it.
The darkness has always been inside me, I think, long before I raised my brother from the dead. My silver heartsglass merely gave it a mouth, made it realize that it too, can hunger….
The firebird chirped a warning, but the shades paid little heed. So it sighed – a resigned, I-really-did-warn-you-about-this-you-know sigh – and glowed. Its feathers, a variety of yellows and reds and oranges tipped with a subtle silver shimmer, flared. Its majestic tail fanned out like a vestal train, whipping at slow, concentrated intervals. Despite its bravado, it had a wide-eyed curiosity about it suggesting it had not been a firebird for very long and, if the shades had their way, would not be one for much longer.
[manuscript codename: 'Ibarra']
When evening steals into the city of Tondo, the Divisoria market district gives way; they trade in their wares of dried fish and vegetables for blood and curses. They’ll roll up their bolts of cloth, put away the assortment of pots and pans on display. They’ll pack up the toys and school supplies on wholesale, the cheap fashion jewelry and pirated DVDs sold in bulk.
Because when night comes, there are different stalls here. Different rules.
Most people would call this the Divisoria Bone Market.
They’re wrong, of course.