Chapter 6: When the Star Fell
Isle of Immortals Book One · Filipino Mythology Romantasy
by Ayin Quijano
Liya shot the Bakunawa out of the sky.
She saw it fall.
But where is the body?
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Falling felt like drowning in fire.
Lakan had been shot from the sky before—by arrows, spears, and once even a ballista in the western wars. But those had glanced off scales or lodged in muscle. Painful, yes, but manageable.
This was different.
The arrow had buried itself in the soft hollow beneath his jaw—one of the few vulnerable points on a dragon’s body. Poison burned through his veins. His wings faltered. The world pitched violently sideways.
He was falling.
For the first time in nearly a thousand years, Lakan had been downed.
By a female.
By her.
The thought cut through the haze, sharp enough to almost draw a laugh from him.
Of course.
Annoyance flared first. Then disbelief. Then—damn it—reluctant awe.
Even as his vision blurred, the image burned behind his eyes: her silhouette against the moon, bow drawn, fury etched into every line of her body as she loosed the arrow. No fear. No hesitation. Only purpose.
She had been magnificent.
A girl on fire.
His—
No, he snarled inwardly, forcing the thought back.
Not ours. She wants us dead.
His dragon stirred, restless and aching, displeased yet unmistakably intrigued.
Darkness crept in at the edges of his vision.
And then—
The fireflies came.
They surged from the forest like a storm of living embers. One moment he was plummeting toward jagged rocks and crashing waves. Next, he was swallowed by light.
Ali felt it the instant Lakan’s massive body tore through the clouds—the rupture in the air, the wrongness of it, the scream of ancient magic snapping violently out of alignment.
No.
That arrow should not have done this.
Even poisoned. Even moon-blessed. No single strike should have downed the most powerful Bakunawa alive. Lakan had survived wars between gods. He had flown through celestial fire. He had endured the Fall itself.
This was not simple magic, Ali thought grimly. Something bigger was at play.
Lakan! Ali’s mental voice cut through the haze. Shift! Now!
Lakan barely managed it. The transformation rippled through him—wings dissolving, scales receding, his vast form compressing into something human-sized and dangerously fragile. A handful of scales scattered as he shifted, falling like black-and-gold coins into the sea.
“Formation Seven,” Ali commanded, his voice sharp despite the panic clawing at him. “Contain the fall. Break impact. Now.”
The fireflies moved as one, tightening and wrapping around Lakan’s body in spiraling rings of light—layer upon layer of burning gold and white—slowing his descent, fracturing gravity’s pull with impossible precision.
To the people on the shore, it looked as if the dragon had become a falling star.
A miracle.
Or an omen.
Below, the Daughters of the Moon charged into the Kagubatan, weapons drawn, anting-anting glowing faintly against the dark.
Torches cut through the forest as the tribes followed, spread out, weapons drawn.
“It fell here,” Liya said for the third time, frustration tightening her chest. “I saw it.”
She tipped her face toward the moon, bow still clenched in her hand. She hadn’t imagined it. She had felt the arrow strike true.
“How does something that big just vanish?” Yumi muttered, eyes sweeping through the trees.
“Maybe it turned into smoke,” Hana offered.
“Or maybe it didn’t fall,” Sora suggested. “Maybe it flew away.”
“I saw it drop,” Liya insisted, scanning the canopy. “It fell right here. Somewhere.”
They pushed deeper into the forest.
Still nothing.
No shattered branches.
No scorched earth.
No body.
No dragon.
“This doesn’t make sense,” Luningning muttered, kicking at leaves. “We should have found something.”
A voice drifted from the trees.
“Who are we looking for?”
Liya spun, yantok raised.
Two balls of fire bobbed cheerfully into view—Kayu and Kaya, flickering with barely contained curiosity.
“The Bakunawa,” Amaya said, exasperated. “Have you seen it?”
“The what now?” Kayu’s flame dimmed.
“The dragon,” Liya clarified. “Black and gold. Massive. Fell from the sky about—”
“DRAGON?!”
Both santelmos shrieked in unison.
“Oh no.”
“Absolutely not.”
“We do not do dragons.”
“We’re more of a ‘light the way, tell some jokes, maybe scare a farmer’ kind of spirit.”
“Dragons are definitely a ‘run away screaming’ situation.”
Kaya grabbed Kayu’s arm. “We should go.”
“Yes,” Kayu agreed fervently. “Immediately.”
They zipped upward so fast they left streaks of sparks behind them, their voices fading into the canopy: “Nice knowing you! Don’t get eaten!”
Silence reclaimed the clearing.
“Well,” Elena said dryly. “That was helpful.”
Liya scowled into the trees, unease tightening its grip.
“Spread out,” she ordered. “Search wider. Look for blood. Tracks. Anything.”
The Daughters melted back into the forest.
Deep in a hidden clearing, the fireflies lowered Lakan carefully onto moss-soft ground.
Ali touched down beside him in human form, already assessing the wound.
Footsteps crashed through the underbrush—heavy, familiar.
Alab burst into the clearing, breathing hard, trying—and failing—to appear calm.
“Is he—” He stopped short, relief flooding his face as Lakan’s chest rose and fell. Barely. But still breathing.
“He’s alive,” Ali said curtly. “For now.”
“For now?” Alab’s voice sharpened. “What do you mean for now?”
“The poison is… wrong.” Ali frowned. “I can slow it. But he needs proper healing.”
Ali’s eyes gleamed. “Or I could take him back to his family now. He’s weak. Easy to transport.”
“Absolutely not,” Lakan rasped.
Both immortals jumped.
Lakan cracked one eye open, glaring. “I’m not dead. I can still hear you.”
“You look dead,” Alab muttered.
“Charming.” Lakan tried to sit up. Failed. Swore. “I’m not going back. Not yet.”
“Your Highness,” Ali said carefully, “you can barely move. The poison—”
“Will pass.”
“Stubborn dragon,” Alab said, already scanning the forest. “I hear voices. The Daughters are searching.”
“Let them,” Ali said. “They’re hunting a dragon, not a man.”
“Still.” Alab looked up at the canopy. “I’ll keep watch.”
In a blink, he’d vanished into the trees, silent as smoke.
Ali hesitated, then sighed. “This is a terrible idea.” He knelt beside Lakan. “Stay still. This will hurt.”
“Everything already hurts.”
Ali placed his mouth over the puncture wound and began drawing out the poison—a combination of suction and magic that worked faster than spells alone. The taste was bitter, unnatural, and laced with moon magic. Definitely meant to kill.
Color slowly returned to Lakan’s skin. The trembling in his limbs eased.
Then, a voice cut through the clearing like a blade.
“Vampire!”
A spear slammed into the ground inches from Ali’s knee.
“Release him!”
Ali’s wings snapped out as he shrank midair, hovering at eye level, eyes wide.
Seven women stood at the clearing’s edge.
At their center—yantok raised, gaze blazing—stood Liya.
“What are you?” she demanded. “Pixie?”
Ali bristled. “I’m Ali Taptap of the firefly race.”
Recognition flickered—then wariness. A firefly. She’d seen him shift, which meant he was royal. Which meant he was dangerous—because firefly royals didn’t stay dead; they were always reborn. Immortal soldiers with the gods’ favor. Ruthless. Powerful.
Her hand moved to her anting-anting. At least his magic couldn’t touch her.
“Leave this human alone.” Her voice was steel. “You have no right to hurt him. “
Something warm unfurled in Lakan’s chest.
She’s protecting me.
The absurdity of it should have made him laugh. He was one of the strongest creatures on earth. He’d never needed protection. Never expected it. When he’d been bullied as a youngling after the Fall—taunted, shunned, blamed for his father’s sins—no one had stepped in. Not his family, not the court. Dragons didn’t coddle. They expected strength.
And he’d become strong.
But this—this fierce mortal woman standing between him and perceived danger, ready to fight a royal firefly to protect a stranger—
It shouldn’t have mattered.
It did.
Ali tensed, ready to fight.
Lakan sent a sharp thought toward him:
Leave me. For now. They’re Daughters of the Moon. Their tribe has what I need. I’m going with them.
Ali’s wings stilled.
You’re not completely healed yet.
I’m not going back without my heart scale.
Ali’s wings flickered—the firefly equivalent of a stubborn frown.
Lakan sighed mentally. Give me three nights. I’ll be ready then.
A pause. Then: As you wish.
Lakan turned his head—slowly, because everything still hurt—and looked at Liya. “The firefly meant no harm. He was healing me.”
Suspicion flickered across her face. An immortal helping a human? Unheard of.
“He’s a friend,” Lakan continued, the lie of omission sitting uncomfortably in his chest. “His swarm lives near my home.”
Liya studied him, then Ali, assessing. Finally, she lowered her yantok slightly. “If you say so.” She gestured to her sisters. “Stand down.”
The women relaxed, though their hands stayed near their weapons.
Ali, still in firefly form, shot Lakan one last look—eyes full of judgment—then zipped upward. Within seconds, his battalion had materialized from the trees, forming a glittering cloud around him.
“The fireflies like you,” Liya observed, and Lakan couldn’t tell if she was impressed or suspicious. Probably both.
He managed a weak smile. “They’re easily bribed.”
The fireflies dispersed into the night like scattered stars, and Liya’s attention returned fully to him.
Lakan’s awareness narrowed. Just her. The way she moved—economical, graceful, dangerous. The way firelight from a distant sister’s torch caught in her dark eyes. The set of her jaw, the curve of her mouth, the constellation of small scars on her arms that spoke of years of training.
Strong. Powerful. Unflinching.
Perfect, his dragon purred.
Stop it.
“What happened to you?” One of the sisters stepped closer. “That wound…”
“Bee sting,” Lakan said.
Several women exchanged skeptical glances. One snorted.
Liya moved closer, and Lakan’s pulse kicked despite the poison, despite the pain. She knelt in front of him, bringing them eye to eye, and he caught her scent—sampaguita and steel, forest rain, and something indefinably her.
His chest tightened.
He’d seen her from a distance before. Watched her train, fight, and move through the world like a living flame.
But up close?
Up close, she was devastating.
“I’m Lakan,” he said, choosing his words carefully. “A dayo.” His home was in the deepest part of the ocean, after all. He was practically a foreigner to these islands. “I’m a… scholar of sorts.”
Not entirely a lie. He’d spent centuries studying curses, searching for answers, and traveling the world. He’d settled near Mount Mayari precisely to seek knowledge.
“A scholar,” Liya repeated, doubt clear in her tone.
“Is that so hard to believe?”
“You don’t look like a scholar.”
“What do I look like?”
Her eyes traveled over him—his broad shoulders, the tattoos marking his chest and arms, and the way he held himself even injured. “A warrior.”
“I’ve been both.”
Something flickered in her gaze. Interest, maybe. Or recognition of a kindred spirit.
“And you are?” he asked, even though he knew.
“Liya.” She studied him with unnerving intensity. “Of Tribu Mayari. These are my sisters.”
The other women murmured greetings, but Lakan barely heard them.
Liya.
The name settled in his chest like a promise.
Her anting-anting pulsed warmly against her skin—he could sense it, the moon magic designed to mute immortal power. It pressed against his shields, testing, searching.
Normally, he could deflect such things easily.
Not tonight. Not weakened like this.
“You’re still bleeding,” Liya said, eyes on his neck.
She leaned closer to examine the wound, and Lakan forgot how to breathe. She was so close now he could see the flecks of gold in her dark eyes, the faint flush on her cheeks, and the way her lips parted slightly as she concentrated.
Her fingers brushed his jaw—gentle, clinical—and heat shot through him.
Her anting-anting flared brighter.
Then, oddly, faded.
Confusion flickered across Liya’s face. Her hand lingered a moment longer than necessary before she pulled back.
“We should treat that properly,” she said, her voice slightly unsteady. “We have a healer at our mountain. You should come with—”
The world tilted.
Lakan’s vision grayed at the edges.
He heard Liya’s sharp intake of breath.
Felt her hands catch him as he fell.
“Lakan?”
Her voice sounded far away.
Distantly, he heard her speak again—commanding, decisive, brooking no argument:
“Let’s take him. He’s mine.”
With Liya’s claim, something shifted—something irrevocable.
The moon watched.
And somewhere deep in the forest, destiny smiled.
AUTHOR’S NOTE🌙
Hello, I’m Ayin — your storyteller.
On Falling Stars
What do you do when a star falls from the sky?
When we were children, we’d close our eyes and make a wish. (Maybe we still do it now, too)
If you’re a scientist, you call it a meteor — space rock, burning debris, cosmic accident.
If you’re a believer, you whisper that it might be a fallen angel, cast from heaven for reasons no one dares say out loud.
And if you’re a storyteller?
You follow it down and ask: what, exactly, just landed in the forest?
In this chapter, the Bakunawa falls.
And depending on who you ask, that means something different. To the tribes on the shore, it’s an omen — the moon-eater struck down, a sign that their prayers were answered. To Liya’s sisters, it’s a mission finally progressing. To Liya herself… she doesn’t have a word for it yet. Only that she can’t stop looking.
Here’s what I find endlessly fascinating about falling stars: they are the same event, and yet every culture, every person, assigns them a completely different meaning. Disaster or miracle. Curse or gift. Warning or wish.
The Bakunawa in this story is all of those things at once — alien to Liya’s world, a fallen hero in disguise, and the quiet fulfillment of a dream she hasn’t dared to name yet. Whether his arrival is miracle or omen?
Only time — and a few more chapters — will tell.
Your Character Guide is Finally Here!
I’ve been getting questions about the world and its characters, and recently, one podcast listener finally asked for a Character Guide. Honestly? Fair enough. This story has people and, as with serialized stories, there’s a time lapse between release days. So I finally put together a free Character Guide you can keep as a companion as you follow along.
It covers the heart of the story — Liya and Lakan — as well as the Bakunawa Clan (hello, Prologue readers), the Daughters of the Moon, and the Moon Goddess Mayari. You’ll also find the immortal allies who make this world feel lived-in: the fierce and loyal Alab, the sharp and commanding Ali, the dangerous and entertaining Alon, the gem-obsessed siren Dara, and of course — the chaotic little fire spirits who have absolutely no chill — Kayu and Kaya.
There’s also a separate Character Deep Dive on Inang Tala — and I want to be upfront about this one. ⚠️ Spoiler alert. This deep dive reveals things about her that unfold later in the story. If you love going in blind, skip it for now. But if you’re the kind of reader who likes to read the last page first and then reread everything with knowing eyes — uh-huh, it takes one to know one — this one’s for you.
Both are free.
And hey — did I miss anyone? Is there a character you want to understand better, a relationship you want unpacked, a piece of the world you’re still confused about? Drop it in the comments. I want to know how to make this journey richer for you.
Up Next — Chapter 7: When Hearts Shift
Five days nursing a stranger back to health.
That was all it took to unravel eighteen years of training.
Liya has hunted monsters her whole life. She just didn’t know she was falling for one.
If you’d rather not wait, Chapter 7 is already up on my Ko-fi page — that’s where I post advance chapters for readers who want to stay ahead of the story.
If you’d like to experience the story in a different way, Bakunawa’s Curse is also streaming at Ayinisms Story Podcast on Spotify, and you can watch it at the Ayinisms Story Channel on YouTube.
Till the next story. 🌙
❤️Ayin
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🤔 What do YOU think when you see a falling star?
🌠 Make a wish — obviously
👁️ A sign or omen
🪐 Space rock. Science wins.
😇 A fallen angel, no question
Let me know below.
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🌙 Thank you for reading. The moon is watching.
© Ayin Quijano. All rights reserved.
Ayin Quijano 
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