Soul Eater – Philippine Spirits https://phspirits.com Your Portal to Philippine Mythology Fri, 26 Jan 2024 07:09:55 +0000 en-US hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=6.6.2 https://phspirits.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/05/cropped-Spirits-Logo-JPEG-scaled-1-32x32.jpg Soul Eater – Philippine Spirits https://phspirits.com 32 32 Kuraret – Maguindanaon Translation https://phspirits.com/kuraret-maguindanaon-translation/ Fri, 26 Jan 2024 07:07:49 +0000 https://phspirits.com/?p=4496

*Note this story is in Maguindanaon

Sa inia inged a migkasela su tua mama ku, sa apia entain na di kapakayan embitiala sa magabi.

“Kakineg ku pan su uni na guyudan a putaw nin,” pidtalu na tua mama ku.

Kapegkasela a kaped sekanin na bida. Kanu kutika a wata kami pan endu pegumbal kami sa uni sa magabi edtalaguy sekanin sa lekami endu tantu a kena makaingel, di pegumbal sa ingel sa ginawa nin.

Tatap a pedsendit aku sa kapegidsa sa enduken.

Sa nan a inged pebpawang intu sa magabi, pegketengen nin su guyudan a putaw nin. Su guyudan na napenu sa takembangan nu nauna a pimbunu nin.

“Su manga manusia a di mataw papedtelen sa ngali nilan.”

Sa ukit a kinapanudtul nu tua mama sa tudtul, Natawan ku a aden kaped nin a nabunu lu. Da nin embitiala i ped, ugaid isa kutika, sa magabi sa kinatulug nin na kakineg ku sekanin.

“Ernesto, suled ku a Ernesto, tagak ka sekanin.”

Pidtalu nin sa laki na minukit sa walay nilan. Su suled nin na mawalaw endu babal, katig nin na di kalabian. Su kabenal na kangudan na mabagel sa dalem nin.

“Inenggat nin su manginggilek endu binayadan nin i alaga.”

Su Tua mama ku na tatap a pedtalus pantag sa alaga.  Sa panun intu a nganin-nganin a nabayadan pabila naukit intu. Da ku katuntayi i ngin a benal intu sampay sa inipatuntay nin.

“Da bun intu sa lekitanu a su manginggilek kimua bu sa nyawa, ugaid kinua nin su nganin-nganin a su kamatayan bu wagib a pedtalima.”

Su suled ni tua mama ku naawa su nyawa sa intu.

Saguna, Di aku a benal pebparitiaya sa nganin-nganin mana su nyawa endu manginggilek a pegkikineg sa magabi, ugaid kamudian na kinabpatay ni tua mama minebpun su manga uni.

Kakineg ku su manga takembangan a pebpupuka sa kaped sa guyudan nin. Kakineg ku su manga kisek nu manga pimbunu nin, pangeni sa abadi a kapapembutawa. Kakineg ku su ulian a sengka nu tua mama ku, pangeni-pangeni sa kanu nyawa nu suled nin.

“Mapakay, temu saki kua ka.”

Pangenin-ngenin ku na matading den su manga uni. Di ku katawan enduken ka pedtundugen nilan su tua mama ku endu enduken ka pedtundugen aku nilan. Pidtepengan ku a di pamamantag silan, ugaid di ku kagaga.

Uman magabi na labi pegkabagel

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English Version

In the town where my lolo was raised, no one was allowed to talk at night.

“I can still hear the sound of its iron cart,” my lolo used to say.

Growing up with him was strange. When we were kids and we would make a sound at night he would run towards us and make sure we were quite, trying not to make noise himself.

I always regretted asking him why.

In that town it traveled at night, pulling its iron cart. The cart was filled with the skulls of its previous victims.

“The ones that didn’t know how to keep their mouths shut.”

The way my lolo told the story, I knew that he had lost
someone to the monster. He never spoke of it much, but sometimes, at night while he was asleep I could hear him.

“Ernesto, my brother Ernesto, leave him alone.”

He told me it passed by their house. His brother was brave and foolish, he thought he was invincible. The truth of youth was strong within him.

“He challenged the monster and paid the price.”

Lolo would always go on about the price. How it was something that was paid when it got its way. I never understood what it really was until he explained.

“It would not matter to us had the monster only taken lives, but it took something that only death should claim.”

My lolo’s brother had lost his soul to it.

Now, I don’t really believe in things like souls and monsters that listen in the night, but after lolo died the sounds began.

I could hear the skulls knocking against each other in its cart. I could hear the screams of its victims, begging for their eternal release. I could hear the last gasp of my lolo, pleading for his brother’s life.

“Please, take me instead.”

I wish the sounds would go away. I don’t know why they followed lolo and why they’re following me. I try to ignore them, but I can’t.

Every night they get louder.

————————–————————–————————–———–

**Maguindanao or Maguindanaon is an Austronesian language spoken by majority of the population of Maguindanao province in the Philippines. It is also spoken by sizable minorities in different parts of Mindanao such as the cities of Zamboanga, Davao, and General Santos, and the provinces of North Cotabato, Sultan Kudarat, South Cotabato, Sarangani, Zamboanga del Sur, Zamboanga Sibugay, as well as Metro Manila. This was the language of the historic Sultanate of Maguindanao, which existed before and during the Spanish colonial period from 1500–1888.

*This story is not “word for word” or “translated literally” since there are English words that has no exact equivalent in Maguindanaon language. It was translated as to how an old Maguindanaon would re-tell the story. But nonetheless, the content and dialogue in the original and the translated version are all the same.

Written by Karl Gaverza
Traslation by Datu Hashim
Copyright © Karl Gaverza
Translation Copyright © Datu Hashim

Inspired by the Kuraret legends from La Union

Kuraret Illustration by Leandro Geniston
FB: That Guy With A Pen

Colors by Alexa Garde

Website: Lexa.us

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Atros https://phspirits.com/atros/ Fri, 28 Sep 2018 04:34:57 +0000 http://phspirits.com/?p=1307

 

“Mama, she’s doing it again,” Justo says as he pulls his mother’s dress.

“It’s okay anak*just leave her alone. Now help me with breakfast, we have to go to the market,” his mother replies.
“But it’s so early in the morning! I want to sleep more,” protests Justo.

“We both want to sleep more, but if we don’t go to the market there will be no breakfast. Now come along, I’ll make your favorite.”

“Longganisa?!** Ok mama! Let’s go!”

Justo prepares himself for the trip to the market and in the back of his mind he asks, “Why is ate*** like that? All she does is stare outside the window.”

It wasn’t always like that. Justo could remember to the times he wasn’t able to talk and the beautiful serenade of his sister’s voice. He liked the way she would hold him up, as if she was lifting him to the heavens so he could see the entire world.
Those days were gone and he didn’t know why. One night, he heard the soft weeping of his mother from his room and he saw his sister standing by the window side, her eyes glazed.

That wasn’t all that happened. He remembered that his mother told him to stay in his room, no matter what may happen. She locked all the doors and closed the windows and made sure that everyone in the house was where they were supposed to be.

There was a faint sound of something he couldn’t make out. Justo couldn’t keep his curiosity hidden so he pressed his ear against the door to his room and waited.

There was a scream from his sister and a shout from his mother.

And then, silence.

His mother wouldn’t admit that anything was wrong. She would dress up his sister every morning and leave her by the window.

And still, Justo didn’t know why.

What happened to his sister? Why was she like that?

“Mama I’m ready!” Justo was dressed for the rain. He brought his lucky umbrella along to make sure they both would stay dry.

“Oh what a handsome boy! Now come with me, let’s be fast so we can get back early so you can get ready for school.”

“Okay mama.”

Justo couldn’t help but glance at his sister as they left the house. Her eyes locked on something Justo couldn’t see.

Justo always loved the wet market. There were so many things to see and smell. He liked going by the fish vendors and poking the fish in their eyeballs. He had seen older people do this and he thought it was their way of testing if the fish was really fish.

While his mother was haggling over some eggs for their breakfast, Justo had a look around the market. The
vegetables were especially bright today and he spent his time poking some sayote to see if they were fresh.

The vegetable vendor didn’t look particularly amused at the young boy’s playing with his produce and Justo was wondering why he hadn’t been shooed away yet. Usually it would take a few minutes before the vendors realized he wasn’t going to buy anything and they would tell him to go somewhere else.

It was then that Justo realized that the people in the market were looking at him and his mother strangely. They would give a glance and mumble something to their companions before walking away.

“Justo, come here!” his mother called from across the market.

“Coming mama!” Justo ran to his mother’s side, he wanted to go home. Now, he could feel the stares pulling him in different directions.

After his mother paid for the eggs, Justo whispered, “Mama why are people looking at us funny?”

“Don’t pay them any mind. That’s just how some people are,” his mother said with a hint of uncertainty.

But Justo perked his ears and tried to make out what some of them were saying. He could only hear one word, repeated.

“Atros.”


It was the same day in and day out. Justo’s ate would be dressed by their mother and she would sit by the window, unresponsive to anything. One time, Justo threw a ball at her head and she didn’t even flinch.

Every day he would ask his mother what happened and every day she would change the subject.

One day enough was enough.

Justo’s mother was busy washing the dishes when he blurted out,

“Mama, what’s an Atros?”

The kitchen echoes with the sound of the breaking plate.

“Where did you hear that, anak?”

“It was just…. Some people in the market were talking about it when they were looking at us.”

“Don’t listen to them anak, they don’t know what they’re talking about.”

“But what is it mama? Does it have something to do with ate?”

“You have to get ready for school don’t you? Come on, get dressed.”


“I’m already dressed mama. Please, tell me. Maybe we can help ate.”

Justo couldn’t tell you how long the moment lasted, but it seemed like five forevers. His mother and he had their gazes locked, both not backing down to the other’s will.

Finally, his mother broke the stalemate.

“It’s time for you to go to school.”

“But mama—-”

“No other words, you have to go to school now.”

“Mama—-”

“No. And don’t ask about this ever again.”


It was the middle of the night when Justo heard something strange from outside his window. It was like the beating of drums.

Justo wondered if it was a parade, but what kind of parade would happen in the middle of the night.

Fueled by curiosity he unlocked the front door and peered outside.

He saw a group of people, though they were very short. They had fair skin, eyes that bulged and big pot bellies. They were riding what looked like horses and the sound of beating drums followed them where they went.

Justo was just about to open the door when someone grabbed him and put their hand over his mouth.

He didn’t have time to react and the mystery figure pushed them both to the ground holding Justo down until the sound of the drums faded.

“Mama!” Justo exclaimed after he saw who it was that pushed down. “What are they?”

His mother was in tears. “I won’t lose another one to those things. I won’t.” Justo managed to pick up through her sobs.
“Mama,” Justo said, “Please. Tell me what happened. What are those things? Do they have anything to do with ate?”

“I was just trying to be a good mother. I heard the drums and I knew the legends. I know what they take.”

“What did they take mama?”

“They took her soul.”


Ever since that night, Justo never trusted the new moon. He saw it as a symbol of loss and pain.

Because every day he would see his sister stare blankly out the window and he knew.

She could never get back what was taken from her.

And it was a curse, knowing what happened, for he couldn’t do anything about it, except watch and wait. For the coming of a new moon.

To see the monsters that took his sister from him.


*Child
**Filipino sausage
***Older sister

Written by Karl Gaverza
Copyright © Karl Gaverza

Story inspired by the Atros legends from La Union

Artros Illustration by Michael Sean B. Talavera
IG: @maykelshan
Deviantart: https://www.deviantart.com/isaneleach13

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