Kenneth Yu

For Sale: Big-Ass Sword

Talipapa, at Iba Pa!

THE ONLINE MARKETPLACE – and More – of the Philippines

talipapaatbp.com.ph

 

ITEM: Big-Ass Sword

price: P2,000,000.00 (minimum bid)

contact number: 0988-724-27XX

private message: Click here to send seller a message.

date posted: 1 day ago (February 27, 2016)

condition: Used

location: Pampanga, Philippines

ad ID: 45678254

category: Antiques

 

seller: WhiteStar55

member location: Pampanga

registered: February 27, 2016

last login: 1 day ago

 

description:

PLEASE READ BEFORE asking questions!!! Don’t waste your time, and more importantly, don’t waste mine. Texts or emails with questions that can be answered by this admittedly long but very detailed description will be ignored, because this would mean that you were too lazy to read, and I won’t ever deal with you because I don’t like people who are too lazy to read.

Item for sale is a large, vintage, antique Filipino sword. As is, where is. One-of-a-kind. Guaranteed authentic, real, tunay-na-tunay. I was told by my lolo that this weapon is at least 600 years old (but no papers, haha, sorry. Kayo na ang magpacarbon-date kung gusto niyo).

In very, very, very, very good condition. Not very shiny, and lots of scratches from heavy use (Some of the scratches are actually writing of some kind), but not a bit of rust. Matalas pa! Blade stays sharp, no matter what. My lolo said he thought of sharpening it before, but the blade cut through the whetstone on the first pass. Grabe, nahiwa pa yung bato.

Second-hand. Maybe third-hand, or even fourth. Possibly even more. 600-plus-years-old, remember?

Fixed price, no haggling, open to swapping (more on that later), low-ballers will not be entertained. Direct buyers, no agents.

Meet-ups only, as in if you want to buy it, you agree to my price, and I’ll tell you where and how to come and meet me here in my house in Pampanga, because I’m not carrying this heavy, four-and-a-half-foot long hunk of steel farther than I have to from where it is now.

Yes, I have a car, but I’m not going to drive the sword to you, and I’m not hiring a vehicle either, because I might get arrested for transporting a deadly weapon. (Still sharp, remember? And Crame doesn't give out licenses to carry for stuff like this.) And delivery by courier or mail is out of the question. Did I say it was heavy? I think it weighs about 8 to 10 lbs. Can you imagine how much they would charge for freight?

You want it? You meet me, you pay for it. I give it to you, you own it. Then you transport it. The risk is yours.

important background on the item:

I WAS TEN years old when, during one of our many talks, my lolo first told me about this sword. He said it was called a kampilan, one of so many that were used for so many years, by so many warriors, in so many battles and wars all over the land.

But he also told me that this was the biggest, baddest kampilan ever made. You can view the attached pictures to see what it looks like, but bear with me, ’cause I want to describe this sword. It really looks badder in real life than in pictures. That’s my fault, ’cause I only have a cheap cell phone with a lousy camera, so I hope my words do the sword justice.

Its hilt is made of the purest, darkest, and hardest narra. Carved into the hilt’s pommel is the face of a mean-looking reptile, with sharp teeth and a long tongue. I’m not sure, but it could be real dried blood on the teeth and tongue. Two milky pearls inlaid into the wood actually glow in the dark, and represent the reptile’s eyes. The handle is rough and jagged, like real reptile scales, and it’s neatly wrapped in rattan, to give the wielder a solid grip. The cross guard ends in elaborately carved, upturned claws.

As I’ve mentioned, the blade is four-and-a-half-feet long, and ends in a jagged, serrated spikelet that looks like it was part of the inside of a crocodile’s mouth. It’s colored a dull gray, with dark splotches that are either natural imperfections in the steel’s texture, or watermarks from when it was forged, that stayed permanently on the metal’s surface. Or again, maybe they’re just marks of dried blood.

Scratched lightly onto both sides of the body of the blade are distinct lines, patterns, and curls that look very much like writing, but from the varying differences in the styles of the characters, there’s got to be more than one language written on the kampilan. Some of it is in recognizable baybayin, the ancient language of the country, but there’s not enough of it to make out enough of a coherent message, at least not to me, my lolo, or my father. It’s going to take a scholar to sort this out, and he’s going to need many hours, and none of us in the family are true scholars (We’re all pretty much self-taught).

The scabbard is made of the same wood as the hilt, and is itself also elaborately carved and designed, and reinforced for strength with bands of bronze.

This kampilan would be right at home in a museum. I can imagine it on display behind glass for all to see, with printed notes on the side describing what it is. But I’m not looking to sell this to a museum, and even if I did, I’m sure the sword wouldn’t stay put for long. No, I’m looking to sell this to someone who will use it. Yes, that’s right: use it. To understand why, you’ll have to exert some more effort and continue reading. You’ll have to know why it was made.

This kampilan has many origin stories, Lolo told me. He knows many of them, but not all.

“The complete tales are written down in a set of books that tell all about the kampilan. Those books are somewhere in the house.” He laughed when he said that, because Lolo, my father, me, and most likely all my ancestors are not the best at keeping things organized in the house, where generations of the family have been living for many years. So when he said that they're ‘somewhere in the house’, they could be anywhere. It’s a pretty big house. Lolo said he ‘chanced’ upon a book or three, and ‘scanned’ through them briefly, which was why he knew some of the origin stories.

Lolo said those books contain everything about the sword, from all its origin stories, to all the battles, wars, conflicts, and all the other tales and what-have-you that it has ever been involved in. Every owner the sword has ever had is listed in those books, and all their stories, as well as every name those owners gave it, at least for those who bothered naming it.

Lolo doesn't know who wrote those books, or who is still writing them, but he assures me there is – that there will always be – a complete set, under our roof. “They’re probably not all kept together, either,” he cackled.

Plus, we’ve got thousands more books about other stuff stacked all over the place, so frankly, I wouldn’t even know where to start, if I wanted to find even just one of the books that tell about this kampilan.

Anyway, Lolo narrated some of these origin stories to me. Here are a few that I remember:

the gift from the sky gods

ONE STORY GOES that this blade was forged from a falling star that crashed one night, centuries ago, on what today is Mount Banahaw, at a time when the men of this land struggled mightily for survival, against evil elementals and powerful spirits.

Many of the men, animals, enchanted creatures, and other beings that saw the crash were scared at what they witnessed, and thought that a major disaster was upon them. Only a noble warrior, the tallest, biggest, and strongest from the nearby community, was fearless enough to scale the mountain to investigate the crash.

The warrior arrived when the moon was at its apex, climbing all the way to the crash site, a clearing just a few hundred feet below the peak, where he found a smoking, sizzling crater.

He carefully clambered down the side, slipping and sliding on loose soil and scree. As he made his way, he could see a white glow, as he approached the crater’s base, but just before he reached it, the earth rumbled, and a swirling wind blew, and the shadowy form of an evil earth elemental formed in front of him, clearly blocking his path and preventing him from going farther.

The elemental told the warrior that the glowing object was a gift from the sky gods, to help men protect the land for themselves. The gift would also defend men against evil, and inspire and unite them to be good and selfless, and make a bad-ass leader out of whoever was wielding it, who would then get things done right for everyone.

The elemental, of course, wanted himself and his own kind to have control of the land and the men who lived in it, so he could not let the warrior have the object, and would kill him before letting him take another step.

Needless to say, the noble warrior realized that he was now fighting for the hope of the land, so he didn’t back down, but drew his own kampilan, and took on the elemental with everything he had. They fought for many hours, each inflicting deep wounds on each other, until, at last, at the crack of dawn, the warrior slashed down on the elemental’s shoulder with his sword, slicing his enemy’s arm off but snapping the blade of his kampilan also, in the process. He grappled his enemy, wrapping his arms around his enemy's neck and breaking it, winning the battle as well as the prize.

The tired and wounded warrior took the still-glowing hunk of metal, and found himself immediately healed. He carried it down the mountain and back to his home, where he requested a friendly duwende to forge it into a new kampilan, which he then used to defend his people, unite them with other communities, and become the bad-ass leader who got things done right for everyone. When he finally died, the warrior’s spirit became fused with the sword, making it even badder than it already was, and so the sword entered the annals of legend.

a piece of divinity

THE SECOND STORY I remember from Lolo is that, during a particularly bad time for this land, when there were a lot of small skirmishes between different groups, when the men of this land were not yet united and did not yet consider the possible truth that we were all brothers, a massive drought struck. It dried up all the crops, all the streams, lakes, and rivers. The earth cracked in many places, and many men, enchanted beings, and animals died. Hope dwindled, and many believed that the end of everything was near.

The reason for the drought was that an evil fire-creature living underground had grown into massive size and power, and was radiating too much heat, causing the drought. The smoke from his heat burst forth from the mountaintops for days and weeks and months, and the intense heat dried up all the lakes and rivers. Many brave men went beneath the earth to fight and try to subdue the evil fire-creature, but none of them returned, and the mountaintops continued to spew their smoke without ceasing.

A goddess of the seas around the islands took pity on the people of the land. With her voice like the wind, she called to a brave young man, who heard her and listened.

He set out to sea in a small boat, and once he was out in the deepest of waters, the goddess rose up out of the depths, sliced off a piece of her smallest fingernail, and gave it to him, saying, “Use this to save your land and set it back on the right path.”

The young man took the piece of her fingernail, which was, of course, the kampilan. He returned to the shore and, with the kampilan, went underground and slew the fire-creature. The drought ended, the mountaintops spewed no more smoke, the rains returned, and the land was saved and the people brought together by their shared troubles and redemption.

forged by the giants

THE THIRD STORY I know is that, during the last days of the giants, who were bigger, stronger, and larger than any kapre, a great friendship was born between one of the gentle higantes and a young boy.

Unfortunately, the higante knew that the time for him and his brethren in the world was coming to an end, and they were going to temporarily leave it, because men had turned away from all that was good and had chosen instead to do evil to each other and to the land. They had decided to lie down in what today are now the Visayan seas, to take the long sleep, and to wake up only when men would turn away from evil.

But this higante, before joining his brethren, saw hope in his friend, in whom he believed the spark of man’s goodness still lived. He thought that if even just one person in the world still carried a pure heart and spirit, then he deserved their help to set things right.

So this higante went deep into the earth, and forged from true-steel in the earth’s bowels, and in the earth’s natural fires, this kampilan. He then gave the sword to the boy as a gift, to help him and anyone else who was worthy to wield it, until such time that all people of these lands are good once again.

Then the higantes would awake and rejoin them in life.

ARE YOU STILL reading? Good, good. If you’ve made it this far, especially through all that folklorish origin story stuff, then that’s a good sign.

Look, I never said that these origin stories were the best. They’re not the only ones. There’s more where they came from. And if you think about it, they aren’t that bad, but they’re classic tropes straight out of local mythology. In fact, if you’re well-read, you can find bits and pieces of these stories in other cultures’ mythologies as well.

And I must admit, my lolo and I, we drank a lot when we talked. We also laughed a bit at and made fun of some of the more outlandish tales (but that wasn’t very often, ahem). We could finish off liters and liters of liquor between us (It’s a family gift), so I can’t be sure that he got all his details right, and I can't be sure I paid complete attention myself, and there were lots of trips to the bathroom, so all these stories and the stuff in them, this could just be me and him making things up and changing the original tales, with a lot of help from alcohol. What this has taught me is that some of the best, most inventive, and most entertaining stories can be, ahem, assisted by alcohol.

If you notice, all the origin stories – and that includes the ones I haven’t written down that I still remember – say that this kampilan shows up as a last, desperate measure whenever things aren’t going right with the land, and that in the hands of the right person, or people, it will bring enough folk together, to turn things back in the right direction for everyone again. But you have to remember that this is a sword. It’s a weapon. It’s meant for violence, and that means it shows up only when the use of force ultimately becomes necessary to turn things around.

What’s more: the sword will always find a way.

What do I mean by that? Well, my lolo and my father woke up one morning, and boom, the sword was in the sala, on the table, as if it was waiting to be served breakfast. They knew what it was right away (It's our family's job to know), and why it showed up, and so they debated with each other as to who would be the one to get the sword going on its way. Of course, I chose that moment to trundle down the stairs, yawning and wiping the sleep from my eyes. My lolo and my father gave each other a look, and the task was mine.

I grumbled about this extra work for a bit, thought about it for a week, and then thought, “Hey! What better way for my generation to get this sword where it should be than through the internet? I know what I’ll do! I'll sell it online!”

And that’s why it’s here for sale on talipapaatbp.

Have you started wondering why I can keep on writing about the sword on the site? You know that there are word limits for item descriptions, right?

Like I said, the sword will find a way. In fact, not only am I able to keep on writing about the sword, but the picture and description won’t show up for everyone surfing the site. Only a selection of people will be able to see it, ‘randomly chosen’, haha. And only a selection of that selection will click on it, and only a selection of that selection of that selection will read through to the very end.

I’d like to think of that last one as my own personal filter; as I said, I don’t like those who are too lazy to read. It’s only those who make it to the very end who will have a chance to get the sword. Of those who leave the page or click on another tab, thinking they’ll finish reading later, they’ll find this link missing afterward, gone, no way to get it back, 404’d for good. ‘Once it’s on the internet, it’s forever’ doesn’t apply here.

You may be wondering about the price, as well. Yes, that’s P2,000,000.00. Two million pesos and zero centavos only. If you’ve made it this far, trust me, you may not have the money now, but if you finish till the end and decide that you seriously want this sword, then you’re going to get the P2M somehow. The sword will find a way. Or rather, the sword will enable you to find a way. That’s the way it works. And my lolo, father, and I, we could always use the money.

Why the price, you ask? The sword always comes with a price. What the sword does to unite the people of this land and set things right again always comes with a price. And you, and everyone else, won’t stop paying, even after the P2M is paid to me.

As for how I came up with P2M? It was the first number that came into my head when I had to give an amount. It’s that simple. So there. If that’s good enough for the sword, that’s good enough for me.

Let me tell you what's going to happen: you’re going to suddenly end up in circumstances that will result in you getting your hands on something valuable, something worth P2,000,000. I’ve heard tell that, in the past, someone found some buried treasure that he sold for the right amount, which he then used to buy the sword.

Maybe you’re going to win P2M on some TV game show. Maybe a rich relative will die, and you'll suddenly be P2M richer. Who knows? Who cares? You’re going to get the money, and then you’re going to message me, and then I’m going to tell you how to get here.

By the way, ‘here’ isn’t always here in Pampanga. Right now it is, for the purposes of getting this sword to you, but there’s no guarantee that this will still be here, if you try and make your way back. ‘No return, no exchange’ may be illegal nowadays, but this is our way of saying all sales are final.

I’LL GIVE YOU directions now. You’re going to take the North Luzon Expressway, if you’re coming from Manila. You’re going to take an airplane to the Clark airport, if you’re coming from somewhere else. Don’t worry, the sword will make sure you get transport fare, on top of the 2M.

You’ll end up in the neighborhood of Angeles, Pampanga. Yes, the place with all the girlie and boy bars and such, but you’re just passing through there, don’t stop for a good time, please. Save it. You’re going to have to go deeper into the smaller roads, away from all the noise and action. I’ll send you accurate directions, to a place where the streets get smaller and narrower and lonelier, until they become unnamed.

By that time, you’ll have to step it up and concentrate, and follow my instructions accurately. Turn left when my directions say so. Turn right. Count the number of corners properly, or you’ll be hopelessly lost (but I’m sure you won't get lost, the sword will find a way). Be careful, not all the roads are paved. Or safe, for that matter. But you’ll make it, don’t worry.

When you reach our gate, you’ll pull the rope that’s hanging beside it. The bell will ring. I’ll come down, open the gate, and make sure that you are who you say you are. You pay me, I give you the sword and the written directions to get back out, and you and the sword are on your way.

Oh! You’ll find out that suddenly, in the right hands (yours, not mine), the sword will suddenly be very light. It won’t be the eight- to ten-pound bowling ball it is right now for me. I don’t know why it’s like that, but that’s just the way it is. It’ll feel like a toy in your hands. It’ll still be big and bad-ass, though. How you’ll get around in regular society with it, I don’t know, either. The sword will find a way.

What happens after that, once the sword is with you, and you’ve followed my directions back to where you came from? Damned if I know.

All I know for sure is that, once it’s out there with you, work starts. Maybe you’ll be the one to wield it, and lead the land to unity and hope. What kind of story that’ll be, I also don’t know. It’ll be up to you and the sword.

Or maybe you’re just a temporary wielder, until it gets to another person – you know, you’re just the messenger. That’s possible. Your part is small, just to get the sword back out there, but don’t feel bad about it, because it’s still an honorable task. You’ll still help get the land back to where it should be.

Or maybe you’ll die while using it. It happens. Sometimes. But don’t worry. You’ll have done your part, and the sword will be out there, and it’ll find someone else, and won’t stop finding someone to wield it, until it sets things straight. I’m just sorry about you having to die and all, but that’s the way these things play out on occasion.

Once everything is set straight, the sword will disappear again, and everyone is on their own to make sure that we’re all doing the right thing once more, for everyone’s betterment. The sword will stay unfound – until such time that it’s needed again, and reappears in our sala. Once that happens, then someone from my family will send it out yet again. Who knows? Maybe I’ll be the one to send it out. Or maybe it will be my child or grandchild, that time.

This site will remain up for you, as long as no one has messaged me that they’ve got the P2,000,000 and are ready to pay up. If it’s gone, then someone’s got the sword already. But don’t even try telling me that you’ve got the money, if you don’t. The ‘system’ won’t let you message me, and you might just get kicked out of the site, never to find your way back here. If that happens, well, goodbye. Thanks for trying.

I did say something about swapping, didn’t I? We’re open to that. Lolo said that there were times in the sword’s history where, instead of paying for it in treasure or silver or pearls or whatever they were using for currency at that time, someone would pay for it with something else.

We still have some of those items here in the house, in fact. The complete language of a mountain tribe that was wiped out by disease, more than three hundred years ago, is recorded and stored in a book and special music box, in one of the upstairs rooms. The imagination of a young, artistic genius, who was killed as a boy by the Spaniards when they first arrived, is kept in a hallowed jar somewhere in another room, on a shelf, behind glass, safe from harm. There's also a book in the library, with long-forgotten recipes made from herbs, animals, and plants from the southern part of the land that have long been extinct.

All of these were used to pay for the sword at one time or another. We will accept things like these in exchange for the kampilan. If you think you’ve got anything like this, then you’ll be allowed to message me.

So. If you’ve made it this far, well and good. There are more than one of you who have made it this far right now, and there are more than one of you who’re thinking, with great desire, “I need to buy this kampilan”, and all of you won’t know for sure why, but to you, it’s probably the most important thing in the world right now.

You could be anyone out there: man, woman, boy, girl, everything else, it doesn’t matter. If you're able to read this, then you’re going to be able to buy the sword. I repeat: the sword will find a way. You will find a way.

Okay, you’re at the end. I’m waiting for you to send me the message saying you can pay for the kampilan, and more than that, I’m waiting for you to use the sword to get us – and by ‘us’, I mean everyone living in this problematic land – headed in the right direction again. Get moving.

Click here.

 

 

Kenneth Yu is a fiction writer, publisher, and editor residing in San Juan, Philippines. His stories have won awards and been published both in his home country and internationally over the years. He is the founder of Philippine Genre Stories (PGS), a publication devoted to short genre fiction by Pinoy authors. Though PGS is currently on hiatus, he hopes to revive it soon in its online version. A staunch reading advocate, he continues to encourage everyone, especially younger folk, to always devote time to read.