March 16, 1521.

I fiddled with the three-beaded necklace I wore, looking at the beach with the sun above me. It was another peaceful day at the gulf of Leyte, of which, an island I personally owned. The grains of sand filled the gaps of my toes as well as my fingers. Yep, this feeling was absolutely marvelous.

Then, I could spot in the horizon, an approaching ship I had never seen before. I could make out… Red crosses on their flags. They’re approaching fast ashore. Within a matter of minutes, they dropped anchor and set foot on my land. I stood up, a strong breeze occasionally passes by me as I waited for the visitors to compose themselves and realize that they’re unexpected company.

“Why, hello, there, miss…” a brunette asked me as he walks towards me, making me back away. I looked behind him, his men have just finished dismounting from their ships. They’re so many. If I tried to do something to defend myself, they would surely act.

“H-Hello…” I took another step back, deciding whether to escape through the trees behind me.

“No, no, don’t be afraid… We’re not here to hurt you…. I’m Spain… What’s your name?”

I hesitated for a moment, but then I saw a sincere look in his eyes. He was truthful, alright. I calmed down miraculously. “I… I don’t know.”

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Spain and I became friends immediately, knowing he just came across me to ask for some ingredients to bring back to his people. He also mentioned something about becoming a Catholic like him. I never actually got what that means but its something about taking a commitment and always know that you are being ruled by a supreme being and other stuff. Whatevs, sounds cool to me! Then, Spain started acting weird.

March 31, 1521.

“Whatcha doin, Spain?” I asked him as I marveled at a cross, planted on the summit of a hill overlooking the sea.

“Just finished establishing you as my friend.” He replied, wiping his sweat as the morning sun begged for his attention.

“Oh, I see…”

“I’ll name this place ‘Archipelago of Saint Lazarus’, for you are now a legitimate Catholic with me as your witness…” he said as he rubs my head playfully. “You sure you don’t know your name?”

I shook my head, nothing was ringing to me. I couldn’t remember anything but the salt-scented beaches, shades of the trees and the sound of waves clapping with the sands of the shore.

I shrugged it off, knowing that I’ve gotten sick of this subject ever since Spain came here. Then I thought of something to break the ice.

“Hey, Spain… Wanna check out the caves?” I asked him as the beads of my necklace roll on my neck.

“You have caves? Alright! Let’s go!”

I held his hand as we ran through the shore with Spain’s men camping on the sands of the beach, smiling as we both took our leave and into the forest. Spain found it hard to keep up with me. I was used to this all my life, anyway. I smiled as huge branches of leaves occasionally slaps him in the face unexpectedly and how he trips on branches every 10 feet or so. And then, I finally led him to my favorite cave. It went partly underground and if you took a wrong step, you’ll surely end up impaled.

Spain hesitated for a moment but then saw me doing my footwork with ease. He bit his lip and took my hand and did exactly what I did. It somehow worked as we both got down the cave in good shape.

A few torches lit up the pavement. Stalactites and stalagmites almost took up every space for the first few steps but that drastically changed as we neared the chamber where I keep my food. I tugged on Spain’s sleeve as he was taking too long to avoid the rocks.

“Is this where you keep your stuff?” he asked me, his eyes widening as he sees my hand-woven baskets filled with spices he never seen before.

“Yep! Salt, herbs, plants, seeds! Everything edible! I store here…. Now..” I said as I took a small pinch of salt and asked him to pull out his tongue which he did. I sprinkled the salt on the tip of his tongue and he immediately reacted, feeling happy with the result.

“This could change EVERYTHING!” he exclaimed.

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For the past few days, I’ve been letting Spain haul part of my stash to his ship with the ‘Rope-Pulley’ system he so proudly claims. Apart from his Spanish lessons, this day, wasn’t like any other day.

April 27, 1521

Its been raining recently. The rocks were more slippery than before. And still, Spain persuades me that he can continue transferring the goods to his men up top who’s pulling on the rope to haul it up while Spain stayed at the bottom with me to make sure that the baskets are hooked tight and secure.

“This is the last one!” he sighs as he hooks the last basket of his share to the rope. I wasn’t happy about this. Thunder roared the skies, rain fell like metal bullets on the earth and mud was splashing from above from where we were. “Alright! Heave, men! Heave!” he shouted as his hair stuck on his face, wet from the rain.

“Spain, I don’t think we should do this…” I said as I fiddled with the three beads that lay wet on my neck.

“Nah, me and my men got this! Now, HEAVE!” Spain said as he put his attention back to his men as he wipes stray hair away from his face.

I hear the men grunting up above. I can hear them in frustration as the basket kept going back down as the men tried their best not to slip with the mud.

“Sir!! The rope!” We heard one of the men scream above.

We turned our heads to the horizontal stalactite and saw the outline of the rope gradually slipping down. The basket was about 15 feet high. If it were to fall, it’ll be destroyed.

“Hurry! Lower it down!” Spain said as he got under the basket, readying for it to land in his hands.

Then I noticed the rock supporting the rope started to crack. I shouted for Spain to move away but to my surprise, the thunder shouted with me. I shouted again, and this time, he looked at me then back to the basket, deciding on which to pay attention to.

But the rock had already cracked and the basket crashed to the side of the cave since the men still pull on the other end of the rope. We were lucky it didn’t crash to a nearby stalagmite. But it was still way too high up. The other end of the rock that cracked took Spain by surprise and landed accidentally on his left leg. It wasn't crushed or severed. Just stuck. But when I tried to help him out of the fallen rock, he let out a scream and blood trickled from his leg as a newly formed scratch has been made from one sharp tip of the rock.

I shrieked in fear and helped him up to his feet with his arm around my shoulder. The rain didn’t make it easy. He was slipping… Repeatedly. I thought of something. Something that would save his life. It would be for the best, I guess.

“Spain! Grab the rope!... The men will have to pull you up!” I screamed amidst all the noise the rain gave to prevent me from shouting.

“What about you?! You know the rope can’t hold two people!” he said, water trailing down the features of his exasperated face.

“I know… That’s why I need you to do this for me…” I looked deep in his eyes, trying to give him that sincere look that would always leave him taking yes as the final answer. It took him a while to answer.

“Lower down the basket! Sir Spain! Grab the rope!” his men shouted.

I held the rope and looked into his eyes, spending probably the last moment this close to him. I felt like my eyes were steaming and tears flowing from my cheek, but I couldn’t tell if it really were there because of the presence of rain.

“Me haces feliz… (You made me happy…)” I whispered to him, managing a weak smile.

“Quiero más tiempo contigo.… (I want more time with you….)” he whispered back.

To elude the painful goodbye, I placed the rope in his hands and made him close his fingers around it tight. “Pull!” I shouted, not giving him time to realize what was happening. Spain acted quickly, swaying himself to avoid the sharp stalagmites that come in his way and soon, he couldn’t be seen from my point of view anymore. And I knew that the days with him are over.

I could just wait for the rain to stop and the rocks to dry. But that’ll be in a long time. Heck, I’ve got all my supplies I need to live here….

Live.

Hindi na ko mabubuhay kung wala siya ngayon.

I couldn’t live anymore without him now.

Could he even remember me?

That’s right.

I’m nobody.

I’m just a deserted island.

With that, I went to the farthest corner of my chamber, grabbing the nearest lighted torch I could touch to keep me warm and tucked my knees to my chest, the sounds of men grunting dimmed away. Their grunts, shouted the name of Spain as the rain mourned with them.

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Unknown, 1543

After Spain had left and I had finally gotten out of the cursed cave that used to be my favorite, I just lost the feeling of keeping track of time. I had changed. The sands could no longer change me. They couldn’t take back the time I had with Spain. I touched my necklace once more, its what I always do when I’m stuck and have nothing to believe in. Luzon, Visayas, Mindanao… Can’t console me right now.

As I buried my face in the palms of my hands, I get the urge to look up back again at the horizon, hoping to see the silhouette of the Spanish fleet once more. A dark figure of a ship emerged slowly. I widen my eyes and rubbed them just to make sure. It was coming closer. I remember the red crosses on their flags, the barrels on their deck, the man with the occasional telescope, Spain.

I ran to the water, knee-deep, hoping to shorten the distance between us somehow even though it doesn’t help much. My dress was wet with saltwater, so what?

Spain quickly went down the ship before they even dropped anchor and immediately, I hugged him, remembering the scent of his cologne that enticed me so much back in the days. He changed. He was much taller now. His hair, more brown than ever. And his left leg….. Completely healed.

He brushed my hair behind me ear and whispered softly, “I now name you, ‘Philippines’….”

Then his men, seemed to have heard it somehow raised their swords in unison, the sound of their blades unsheathing made us look up at them.

“All hail King Philip II!!”

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