Tala filed her vacation leave with a smidgen of regret. Her team would have to do without her for a while, but she had accrued enough leave credits to take a couple of months off—goodness knows she needed it now if she intended to explore her
Baylan
nature. She'd probably need a few weeks to recover, too, considering what tapping her supernatural whathaveyou involves.
That, and her body seemed to be extremely sensitive lately. Her cotton undies felt scratchy and she suddenly couldn't stand the lace on her bra cups. She'd awoken to the shrill meowing of a hungry cat knowing damn well there wasn't a feline in the building save for the scraggly stray the guards at her apartment building usually fed 15 stories below her balcony, in the parking lot.
The early morning light made her squint hard enough that she reached for her sunglasses before setting out for her office and, once there, she'd found that the flavor of her morning latte exploded like a bomb—a nice one, though—on her tongue and soft palate.
Funny things. Things that would likely freak her out, so she threw herself into her shift before deciding on taking a nice, long break during which she did not need to hear some of her team members surreptitiously texting friends and family when their phones were supposed to be in the lockers. So she could lose it at her leisure, away from prying eyes.
Mental note, read what Beatriz has to say on these things. Perhaps on a beach. With Buhawi. Definitely with Buhawi. Though how that will get done, only the Bestiario knows. Dear me, will I feel everying so intensely? Before this the sex with Buhawi already drove me around the bend. How would his tongue feel now? His lips? His fingers? Oh, my God, how would it feel to have him inside me, fucking me slow and sure or hard and fast. Oh, my.
Tala walked into the HR office as her shift came to a close, toting her accomplished leave form in triplicate. Most people would think contact center personnel all dressed flamboyantly, but, really, the admin people are like admin people the world over: Conservatively dressed and impeccably unflappable. The fashion statements and victims were the ones who walked the inbound and outbound call office floors.
She squirmed as the bespectacled, prim and pinstripe-suited Ms. Dela Cruz of HR's lean and mean crew turned speculative owl-eyes at her and cocked a finely-plucked brow up as she made a slight moue with her lips.
Dear me, I hope I don't give off a sex-fiend vibe. I hope she does not see that I'm horny as all get out and am this close to locking myself in the locker room, getting into the shower and fucking myself silly to the tune of Billy Joel's "It's Just a Fantasy." Aw, shite. Down, Tala. Down, girl. And down, nipples and clitoris, too.
"Ms. Bienvenido, it is good that you are taking a leave," the HR manager said. "You've been working very hard and a break will keep you productive." Ms. Dela Rosa was shifting subtly in her seat and fanning herself with a manila envelope, despite the air conditioner belting out the coldest blasts of air it could.
Don't chicken out now, woman.
Tala scolded herself as she handed the form over to the crisp and efficient Ms. Dela Cruz.
It isn't even just about all the orgasms you're gonna have in the process. It is about finding out what you truly are.
Ms. Dela Cruz cracked a slight smile, took Tala's leave forms and stamped each copy, filing them away with the OCD precision that effectively dismissed Tala and hid the HR lady's face from Tala's view. "It is nice giving you a leave instead of your team members, for a change."
"Thank you, Ms. Dela Cruz," Tala forced her focus back on the woman sitting in front of her. "I do need the break." With that, she gave the HR lady a smile and walked off the end of her shift and into the bright afternoon sun, shades on and iPod earbuds firmly in place with Pachelbel pouring a rousing but low-volume sonata into her head.
***
10 Junio 1898
When you have taken the first golden hair, expect to see changes that may upset you at first. Your touch will likely shock people, animals and objects with sharp pulses of energy. To prevent this from happening, make sure you plant both feet firmly on the ground, heels to balls of feet, before you touch anyone or anything.
Your hearing will grow very keen—keen enough to pick up sounds most humans cannot. It will be sensitive enough that the slightest tread of feet on soil will sound as loud as a horse's stomping gallop over a cobblestone street.
Your skin will be much more sensitive and you may want to choose clothes that are not rough, or you will feel constant discomfort when thus clad. You will not be able to tolerate anything but the softest, lightest cloth against your intimate parts or against your breasts. Perhaps you will want to go without underclothes for a while, at least until you adjust to the increased sensitivity.
Your eyesight will grow very clear and sharp and, if you look at a bird in flight, you may even be able to see the small patterns in its plumage—even if that bird is tiny as a sparrow and flying higher than most people would be able to see.
You will taste the smallest bits of flavor on the tiniest morsels of food and you will be able to pick up and distinguish scents much better than a hunting dog ever will. These give you excellent help for cooking, by the way. Since Tikbalangs do like to eat and they eat like, well, horses, you will be able to put these enhancements to your senses to good use.
Do not be alarmed at these changes. You are becoming more attuned to the different dimensions in which you dwell. You are a vessel of power and your body is changing so you will be better able to handle the power you are allowing to flow from your very soul, from the Old Gods of the Skyworld, from that core of energy that inhabits all of creation.
Keep up your meditations, do them at least once a week. Ground yourself in the earth below you and raise your hands to the heavens above. Remember that you are the bridge, the human connection, between the land and the sky and you straddle the dimensions in which we and those of the Other World dwell. You are Baylan. Even the Old Gods will heed you.
By now you have paid the first toll for that hair you have plucked. Your Tikbalang will fight you, for it is his nature to challenge the power you now hold. Stay your course. It is no easy task to tame a wild horse. It will be even harder to tame a Tikbalang, but if anyone can do it, you can.
He will want control over you. You cannot give him this control, not this early, at any rate. He has to know Tikbalang and Baylan are meant to be equals. He will after he has also relinquished control to you. That power must flow both ways, or not at all.
By now you have begun to bind the Tikbalang, but be warned: No chains will hold the devil-horse tighter than love—not even the lust of the body or the puzzle that endlessly engages the mind. You have the body. Now you need to win the creature's mind and heart, for he must be all yours. Without question and without a jot of doubt.
Perhaps you will want the spells I've written in this journal. I wrote them for your use. Cuidado, my dearest, use them with compassion and with a clear goal in mind. They can harm as well as provide benefit.
Here I leave you a caveat: You have only one heart to give and, to fully become the Baylan you have decided to be, you must give it willingly and without reservation. That is the price of all this power.
If you would use my spells to tame your Tikbalang, know that both of you will be bound together. If you want that binding to last, don't rely on just our witchcraft to grow what you've planted. Earn the love and the loyalty, too. Even in this, the ordinary and non-magical human meriting of love is powerful and unbreakable.
It is also worth mentioning that your emotions will affect all those around you, the animate as well as those which are not. You are even more rooted, even more connected to this world now that you have made your decision to be Baylan.
Anger is likely to make objects shatter and fly about and, in some instances, bring strong storms. Fear is likely to temporarily blind people and animals and cause them to panic. You must keep a strong hand on these emotions and not allow them to become the destructive forces they can be. It is anger that allows you to call lightning and sheets of rain that trigger deluges, so use it well and with utter and implacable control.
Love and lust, when left to run wild, are likely to cause rather embarassing public spectacles among the unwary people you may be among when you feel these emotions. Until you can direct the emotions better, I do recommend keeping yourself under a tight rein.
