Three hunters there were, closing in on their prey.
The first hunter said, “Look to the skies my fellow hunters, our prey stays in the trees.”
The second hunter replied, “Yes, my friend. These winged beasts will not harm our village anymore.”
The third hunter said, “Our blades must be sharp for its skin is as tough as a carabao’s hide.”
The three hunters gathered their weapons and trekked through the mountains.
It had been years since the first alan arrived in their village. Those were dark days when no man or woman would be brave enough to leave their homes for fear of never returning.
The alan took many away from the village, too many brothers and sisters. Too many children.
The hunters knew that they had to end this reign of terror through blood. Nothing else would do.
In the middle of the forest the three hunters sat and prepared a meal.
“Do not make a fire,” the first hunter said, “for the creatures of the night will be able to find us.”
“How will we cook our meal if we don’t have a fire?” said the second hunter.
“We will have to eat our food raw,” said the third hunter.
And they took out their provisions and ate.
The third hunter broke the silence by asking, “Have you heard how they make children?”
The second hunter replied, “A nasty business. I heard they take blood from miscarriages and mold it to become a child.”
The first hunter said, “Disgusting creatures. We’ll all be better off once they’re all dead.”
And to this all the hunters agreed.
The first hunter took watch over their camp.
“We will hunt them in the morning, when they are tired,” he said.
“I agree, it will be much easier to find them with the light of day,” said the second hunter.
“And we will be able to cut them down without any trouble,” said the third hunter.
“Be careful, brother, we must not underestimate these creatures,” replied the first hunter.
“That is true. I’ve heard they hang upside down from the limbs of trees and wait for their prey to pass under them, snatching up the poor soul with no chance of escape,” the second hunter intoned.
“I bow to your wisdom, brothers. Let us rest for the night and resume our hunt in the morning,” the third hunter said.
And so, the hunters took turns watching over their camp. With each rotation they became more aware of their surroundings, breathing in the paths of the forest. The night passed without incident and the hunters resumed their long trek through the underbrush.
“I must make a confession,” said the third hunter.
“What is it, brother?” replied the second hunter.
“I do not know what these creatures look like,” he admitted.
“Then listen close, brother. These creatures are deformed beings that lurk in the darkest parts of the forest. They are as large as you or I but they have wings that span the breadth of the limbs of trees. Their toes and fingers point backwards from their joints. Surely there is no other creature as ugly or as misshapen as the alan,” the first hunter replied.
“And they are vicious. They spare no mercy for any of their victims, not even the smallest ones,” said the second hunter.
And with this silence overtook the hunters.
They knew what the alan took from their village.
The hunters bowed their heads and drifted off to the realm of memory.
The first hunter remembered his wife and how she made him feel. Words could not describe the emptiness that filled his heart.
The second hunter remembered his brother’s laugh. They were twins and shared a bond no other could understand.
The third hunter remembered a white blanket in which laid his son. He was only a few weeks old when the alan took him.
They had decided enough was enough and banded together to fight these demons.
And now it came to this.
The three hunters circled a large balete tree. They could see the feathers of the creatures poking through the leaves.
They readied their blades and prepared to strike.
The creatures were caught by surprise and did not have enough time to retaliate. There were five creatures and though the odds were in their favor the beasts seemed to be caught unawares, giving the hunters ample time to cut them down.
What followed was a stream of talons and steel. An alan grabbed the second hunter and began to fly upward. It was only with his quick thinking that he managed to chop of the foot of the alan and rolled to the ground.
The first hunter fought three of the alan by himself. He hacked and slashed through their thick hides, dodging their blows and taking advantage of their confusion.
The third hunter stopped when he saw what the alan he faced was carrying.
It was his son, wrapped in a white blanket.
The third hunter dropped his sword and walked towards the alan that held his son. The creature did not attack and handed over the boy to his father.
The hunter wept as he cradled the baby in his arms. For all their viciousness the alan had not harmed children after all.
Before the hunter could respond the alan had flown away. The other hunters bandaged their wounds and screamed a cry of triumph.
But the third hunter could only think of his son, now safe in his embrace.
The two hunters continued on deeper in the forest, looking for more alan to hunt while the third hunter took his son and returned to the village.
They were never heard from again, though the pair were hailed as heroes by the village. Forever would the people remember the two brave hunters that stood against the monsters that threatened their way of life.
The third hunter and his son left the village to find a new life, far away from the chaos of the alan.
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Written by Karl Gaverza
Copyright © Karl Gaverza
Inspired by the Alan entry in Creatures of Philippine Lower Mythology. Ramos. 1971.
Alan Illustration and Watercolor by Nightmaresyrup
Tumblr: http://nightmaresyrup.tumblr.com/
