For Mika.
Before you could speak, there were voices calling you home. Before you could fly, there were wings ready to catch you.
Long before people sailed the seas, before maps were drawn and kingdoms were built, Aman Sinaya, Guardian of the Oceans, watched over every wave, every shell, and every creature that called the sea home.
Among her most treasured companions were the Sarimanok, magnificent birds whose feathers shimmered with the colours of the rainbow. They lived in great colonies along the highest cliffs, where the sea met the sky, carrying hope from island to island with every beat of their wings.
In one of these colonies lived two Sarimanok named Luningning and Himaya.
Luningning filled the mornings with songs so joyful that even sleepy crabs paused to listen. She loved collecting beautiful shells, telling stories to young birds, and laughing whenever the sea sprayed her feathers.
Himaya was quieter. She could mend the strongest nest after the fiercest storm and knew exactly where frightened hatchlings liked to hide. Whenever disaster struck, she was always the first bird to arrive and the last to leave.
The whole colony admired them.
Whenever a chick lost its way, they helped.
Whenever a nest broke, they repaired it.
Whenever someone felt alone, they stayed.
Years passed, yet one thing never changed.
Their own nest remained empty.
Still, they never stopped caring for others.
One year, the typhoon season arrived with a fury no bird could remember.
Winds roared like angry giants.
Rain hid the stars.
The sea climbed higher than ever before, swallowing rocks and carrying broken branches into the endless horizon.
For three days and three nights, every creature waited.
When the storm finally passed, the world was strangely quiet.
The sea looked as smooth as polished glass.
As Luningning and Himaya searched the shore for creatures who needed help, something caught Luningning's eye.
Far from the beach, a single egg floated towards them.
It did not sink.
It did not drift with the tide.
Instead, it glided gently against the current, wrapped in strands of glowing seaweed.
Himaya stepped into the shallow water and carefully lifted it into her wings.
The egg was warm.
Inside came a tiny heartbeat.
Word spread quickly through the colony.
Birds gathered around in wonder.
An old hornbill tilted his head.
"I have never seen an egg travel against the tide."
High above them, perched on a branch of an ancient tree, sat Lolo Dunong, the wise old owl who had travelled from his forest to visit the sea.
He watched quietly.
“The sea has brought us something extraordinary,” whispered one bird.
“But whose egg is it?” asked another.
“Where are its parents?”
“And how will we know where it belongs?”
The questions grew louder.
Finally, someone turned to Lolo Dunong.
“Surely you know the answer.”
The old owl looked at the egg, then at the two Sarimanok holding it so carefully.
“Perhaps,” he said, “the answer is already before us.”
He gently pointed his beak towards Luningning and Himaya.
The birds exchanged puzzle glances.
Luningning looked down at the egg.
"No child should have to wait for someone to answer every question before being loved."
Himaya gently drew the egg closer.
"Then we shall take this little one home."
Lolo Dunong smiled.
Somewhere in the depths of the ocean, Aman Sinaya watched as two hearts made room for a third.
"The sea chooses carefully," the old owl whispered.
A few days later, the egg cracked.
A tiny Sarimanok opened bright curious eyes for the first time.
The elders asked,
"What shall this child be called?"
Luningning watched the waves dancing beneath the cliff.
"The sea carried this little one to us."
Himaya smiled.
"Then the sea has already chosen the name."
Together they whispered,
"Alon."
Just then, a gentle wave reached farther than all the others and softly touched the foot of their nest.
The old turtle laughed.
"Aman Sinaya approves."
Alon grew quickly, surrounded by two kinds of love.
Luningning taught Alon to listen to the stories whispered by seashells, to find beauty in broken things, and to sing even when the sky was grey.
Himaya taught Alon to build nests that could withstand the fiercest winds, to face the unknown with courage, and to understand that being strong did not mean never being afraid.
But the most important lessons were never spoken.
One morning, Alon watched Luningning gave away the last of their food to a hungry bird.
Another evening, Himaya spent the entire night repairing a stranger’s nest while the rain soaked her beautiful feathers.
One evening, after playing with the other young Sarimanok, Alon became unusually quiet.
As the stars appeared above the sea, Alon finally spoke.
"May I ask something?"
"Always," said Luningning.
"Everyone else has a mother and a father."
Alon looked down at the waves.
"I have two mothers."
For a moment, only the sea answered.
Luningning gently wrapped one wing around Alon.
"Every family begins differently."
Himaya placed her wing around them both.
"Some children grow beneath a mother's heart."
"Some are welcomed by grandparents."
"Some are raised by aunts or uncles."
"And some," Luningning smiled, "are carried by the sea."
Himaya looked into Alon's eyes.
"But every family begins the very moment someone says,
'You belong with us.'"
Alon leaned against them.
For the first time, the question no longer felt heavy.
Many seasons passed.
Alon became a magnificent Sarimanok whose feathers reflected the colours of both sunrise and the ocean.
Then another great storm arrived.
When morning came, frightened birds searched the shoreline once again.
Far away, caught between rocks, lay another tiny egg.
Many birds hurried towards it.
Before anyone could speak, Alon stepped forward.
Carefully lifting the shell into gentle wings, Alon smiled.
"No child sent by the sea should ever wait alone."
Luningning looked at Himaya.
Neither said a word.
They simply smiled.
But something extraordinary happened.
As Alon carried the egg towards the colony, one bird brought soft feathers for a nest.
Another gathered food.
A third offered shelter beneath the branches of an ancient tree.
Soon, birds from every corner of the island came to help.
The little egg, which had arrived with nothing, was surrounded by more love than it could ever have imagined.
High above them, Lolo Dunong watched quietly.
He remembered the day when two Sarimanok had carried a mysterious egg from the sea, while the colony stood wondered where it belong.
Now, nobody asked.
They simply made room.
And Lolo Dunong understood that Aman Sinaya’s gift had been greater than anyone had realised.
She had not merely brought a child to two loving mothers.
Through that child, their love had found its way into the hearts of an entire colony.
Far beyond the horizon, where the sea touched the sky, the waves shimmered in the morning light.
And Lolo Dunong whispered:
“An unloved child may spend a lifetime searching for warmth.
But a child who has known love may one day become the warmth that others seek.”
And as the sun rose over the island, Alon spread those magnificent wings, sheltering the little egg beneath them.
For love, like the sea, does not end where it begins. It travels from shore to shore, until even the farthest place feel its warmth.
