They actually found the missing children.
They thought this was the ultimatum promised by Alas Purwo Sunanate. If so, the cunning schemes of the Yawadwipa state's officials had played right into their hands.
The forest to the west of Tumaritis village was only a stone's throw away, but it might as well be in another world. For when the villagers set their sights on the twisted puppets made of flesh and fibre dangling from the trees, their eyes yearned to be blind. The number of grotesque effigies matched that of the vanished children—without Cahyaningrum to participate. All naked. The air scalded their flesh because their skin was snatched away. Their thick crimson drops quenched the earth's thirst.
The sound of wailing filled the air, emanating from almost every throat. Grown men crumpled to the ground, faces creased in despair, while the women's tough façade crumbled away. No one could bear to witness the children's terrible demise, let alone see them stripped of their skin. Who could ever bear to witness this depraved spectacle, a macabre masterpiece wrought upon the Earth?
Even Alicia had to flee to somewhere less desolate, to be rid of the sickening queasiness that struck her.
"I warned you that you wouldn't be comfortable looking at it." Gareng rubbed the girl's shoulder to soothe her stomach, though the pukes continued to choke her throat.
Alicia clutched her fiery red hair, fingers knotted tightly in despair. She regretted going, but she also regretted that lifes were lost because of her. The thought of her friends, Kiran and Cempaka, shrieking as their skin was peeled away like a cheap coat was too much to bear. The knowledge that both shisyhas were among the dangling figures and no one would recognise them shallowed her breath. Again and again, her lips uttered the word "wretched", until her lips were too stiff to express something else, like the full extent of her fury towards the mind behind this atrocity.
"Go!" Gareng urged Alicia with a push. "Don't linger around anymore, go back to Father. Go!"
Semar's children and the villagers climbed the trees reluctantly to cut the children's ropes, with revulsion ever-present in the pits of their stomachs. Their trembling hands recoiled at the touch of the gruesome flesh. Their eyes were tear-swollen, some had to turn away, lest their living faces met the stiff-muscled grin of the departed.
Before wrapping the bodies, they removed the boards that had been nailed to the poor children's chests. It seemed that the wicked perpetrators had run out of rope and resorted to using wooden planks secured with small pegs. Each plank bore an identical inscription. Only from up close could they read the sign...
***
Alicia had made her way to the village with her breath sometimes caught in her throat. Her hands were already tugging at the cloak her mother had given her, hoping that even in a ghostly spirit, the mother would give her a glimmer of comfort. It was the cold fabric tempered by air that she felt, not the warmth of her mother's affection, to her dismay.
Her steps halted. The minute Alicia stood still she realised she was shaking, and her knees could not hold the weight of the emotional pandemonium inside her much longer. She cradled Orb to her chest in an attempt to self-soothe, but tears were already welling up in her eyes before she could hold them back. They were children. From all the complicated affairs and political chaos of the selfish adults, it was the children who had to take the brunt. She opened her eyes again and regarded Orb with its concerned white eyes. Again came the urge for self-reproach.
Alicia, don't do that again, please, Orb's pleaded in its purr.
"My friends! I have the strongest might," Alicia sobbed, "yet I cannae prevent—"
You have the strongest might, but it doesn't enable you to control everything! Orb chastised. You are no gods. Even gods choose misery to remain among their people. You are the chosen one, but the world doesn't revolve around you. Do not shoulder all the blame.
A tinge of denial still held strong in her heart. "Does it really need to happen?"
It does.
"Why?"
So people can be reminded of what they are. That they are not in complete control. But at the same time, to learn to value what they have better. It grants you wisdom and enables everyone to experience the feeling of having hope, especially when it comes from you.
"I still can't accept it. I still can't accept Kiran, Cempaka, and other children deserved such a fate for me, or the rest." Alicia sank her face to Orb's surface. Her crying had slowly subsided, but intermittent sniffs betrayed her lingering sadness. "Why can't we just have a lovely reality from the start, so we don't need to hope?"
Because that means you can't act, feel, and want the way you've done all this time. You wouldn't truly know the depth and authenticity of your love for something, as love is a reciprocal connection, and you are as scripted as the automaton.
Being scripted as Automaton sure sounded monotonous. Regardless, Alicia held onto her orb companion in silence before finally stating, "It's still too hard to swallow."
Chin up, my wielder. Raise your feet and go. You will gain understanding.
Alicia wiped her dewy glasses and obeyed Orb's words. As she entered the village, Alicia already found more people gathered near Ki Semar's house gate. Soldiers and people with foreign faces according to the girl's senses. They seemed to be grumbling—perhaps holding a protest at the same time. Only when she passed them one by one did the noise die down. All eyes turned towards her, multiplying the constriction in her chest. Dark intentions seemed to linger around them, and soon, their kris would be drawn on her, the one with a Westernised face.
"Alicia! Quickly, come inside!" Semar's voice broke the tension.
The girl's footsteps accelerated until she reached the gate. Alicia rushed and embraced Semar and Kanastren. Nyai Kanastren returned the hug.
"It’s terrible! I can't find them—I can’t find Kiran and Cempaka… I can’t… I can’t…" Alicia shivered the more she recalled the scene.
"Oh, Miss Alicia! Why did you even go there, ¹lare bodo!" scolded Nyai Kanastren, while shedding tears. Without even looking, Semar's wife was already shivering from the cries of the people outside.
They hugged for a while before Alicia cancelled burying her face. "Who... are those people?"
"They're from the neighbouring villages whose children were among the victims." Ki Semar replied. "Stay with my wife. Let me handle these people.”
Alicia and Kanastren sat in the studio with ears attuned to the headman's weighty words as he fulfilled his solemn duties. Duties that seemed to be one of the most onerous. It was not difficult to battle bandits, but it was another matter to comfort people whose hopes had been dashed. Semar's wife kindly offered Alicia breakfast, but the thought of the human-shaped meat hanger left her stomach roiling.
In time, the people of Tumaritis returned to their village with the children sealed in body bags. The grief-stricken villagers were soon besieged by others from nearby, their anguished cries echoing through the air. A commotion broke out when a father attempted to pry open one of the bags in search of his son's face, only to be stopped by fellow villagers as they, too, were unable to distinguish one child from another. It was not until the man revealed the grisly contents of one of the bags that the mothers fell to the ground and writhed in agony. Their wailing crescendoed. The newly-arrived sunlight realised the irony of them mourning, bathed in golden and benevolent light.
"How can this be, Kasinggihan? We cannot take our children home when we do not know which ones belong to us!" cried one villager in the tongue of Yawa, with others sounding in agreement.
"I understand your frustration," Ki Semar said, placing a hand on the shoulders of some of the villagers. "If you wish, we can call upon the Duchy of Pulomas to help identify the victims by taking a small sample of your blood. However, we must freeze the bodies immediately to prevent spoilage. We must also make offerings to Sang Hyang Sukra to welcome the children to Sukraloka. Will you be willing to wait a little longer?"
With faces haggard in grief, people murmured amongst themselves before nodding in unison. Alas, the matter was far from resolved. A man from the back row pushed his way forward, brandishing a wooden bar from one of the corpses. He held it menacingly close to Ki Semar's face.
"Threats from the killer!" he shouted. "They demand that we hand over Barong and the owner of Kalimasada to Alas Purwo. If we refuse, they will kidnap more people starting tomorrow night and promise that the day of judgment will come sooner than expected!"
"What? Alas Purwo are nothing but bastards! So our poor children were never part of the ultimatum in the first place?" exclaimed another villager, the others joining in with curses directed towards the sovereign state of Yawadwipa.
The person continued, "Not only that! We did not expect that you, Kasinggihan, would hide Barong in this village—who turns out to be the crown prince of Alas Purwo himself! You've been lying to us! Did you deliberately put Tumaritis and the other villages in danger?"
It was the fuel to the villagers' anger. Nods and murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd like waves of wildfire.
"Now Barong has vanished into the forest and we are not safe! We cannot live in fear forever! We must take matters into our own hands and kill Barong!" The cries of another villager grew louder. Their fury shattered the tranquil birdsong. Semar's sons tried to reason with the mob, urging them to stay calm and rational. But how could they expect mourning hearts to be rational? The siege of grief had shattered the villagers' sense of security and stability.
"I never lie to you because I never utter these things! I understand that not all of you may embrace this notion, but I remain steadfast in my desire for all to extend acceptance to one another. It is the very purpose behind the establishment of the village of Tumaritis, the reason I have safeguarded Wisesa under my care!" Semar countered. He then unveiled a long-concealed truth shared with Wisesa and Alicia. "Wisesa never meant to harm us, let alone destroy the entire Pulomas Duchy from within! He is a victim, just like all of us. A victim of abuse at the hands of the Alas Purwo Sunan, the Panggaraknagara of Lojitengara!"
"You expect us to trust your words now? After concealing the truth that may hang our lives in the balance? Look at our skinless kids!" retorted the protester. "Barong has been hunting us for a long time, and now this mysterious kidnapper has appeared. This must be a planned conquest by the Sunanate!"
More yelling arose as a sign that their anger had blinded them to reason.
But their senseless rage was not yet satiated. Unaware of the gravity of the situation, a villager from a neighbouring village pointed an accusing finger at Alicia Crimsonmane behind the gate. "And now we've heard rumors that she is the holder of Kalimasada. And she's a Westerner! Once again, a Westerner interferes with our lives. Aren't you satisfied with the power of your Kalimasada, invader? Go back to your own land!"
The residents of Tumaritis, who had once welcomed Alicia with open arms, now despised her with thrashing fists. Orb prevented its wielder from throwing a self-loath; now they were the ones with the honour of carrying the job.
"They're accusing me of something, I can feel it," Alicia in Kanastren's arms murmured.
"Don't be influenced by them. Keep your mind and heart calm," Kanastren replied gently.
"Enough with your slander!" Gareng puffed out his chest and stood tall. The other members of Semar's entourage, Petruk, Bagong, and a platoon of bodyguards, also stepped forward to prevent anyone from acting rashly.
The heat of the mid-morning was intense as they inhaled each other's exhales, surging to the top of their heads. Despite the oppressive heat, the man who had accused Alicia earlier remained steadfast in his belief that she was to blame for their troubles. They cared not for Alicia's age or innocence, only that she held the might regarded as the Origins of The Gods. "The Kalimasada wielder has only shown favoritism to a select few, while many of us have been left out in the cold. Why don't you use your power to prevent further tragedy?" the man spat. "Foolish woman! What kind of Kalimasada wielder are you?"
More spittles were spewed out in anger yet they failed to reach the lass, making the villagers' frustration mount. Alicia did not need to understand the words to feel their anger; their mannerisms were akin to sharp daggers pointed in her direction.
"Handing over Kalimasada and Barong to the cursed Alas Purwo? That is madness!" echoed another villager. "Let us take Kalimasada from the Westerner and use it to destroy Barong, the kidnapper, and Alas Purwo!"
"You're talking rubbish!" Bagong was quick to snap back. "Who are you to think you can take Kalimasada from the chosen one, you moron!"
"Ladies and gentlemen," Semar interjected, "I implore you to think carefully about your words. This is a time of mourning, not a time for reckless action."
The villagers had turned daft. The chants of "Take Kalimasada from the western crook" rang through the air. They pushed against Semar's guards to the point they persuaded them to betray their duty and join in the chaos. The bodies in the bags just lay there, forgotten, mere spectators to the comedy that only the living could deliver. This was the third day of the Uryanwarsa holiday. When this celebration was over, no one would have the sense to plough the fields, for there was a war to be fought. What good was an abundance of barley if there was no "justice"?
"Stop!" Petruk's voice boomed through the crowd, as he held a man's head through the crack of his armpit. "If you try to break through, I'll toss you into the sky!"
"Petruk!" Semar glared at his tall son.
"What? It's a safety measure if we have to."
Ki Semar craned his neck to a pair of women near the studio. "Into the house, quick!"
A group of bodyguards sprang into action, escorting the women to safety. Kanastren pulled on Alicia's dress and guided her towards the trapezoid-roofed house.
The villagers were too busy battling to notice the eerie silence that had descended upon the rest parts of the village. They did not know a mysterious person was sneaking into the village’s boundary.
A young man in beskap suit and blangkon pushed his way through the angry crowd. None of the villagers recognised him at first, but the widening eyes of Semar and his children gave it away. A middle-aged woman twisted her neck to meet his sharp yellow eyes.
"Wisesa!" the woman shouted. "Barong!"
The mere mention of Barong echoed through the crowd, and panic spread like wildfire. People scattered, seeking refuge behind torch poles and walls of houses. Even Alicia, at the back of the centre, could hear the screams and hurried back to the gate. A small glimmer of relief in her chest, to know that her belief from last night had been proven true.
Wisesa stood alone in the centre of the empty field. Semar's guards were still there, rifles at the ready. He scanned around while acting a fool, then turned. The villagers, once furious, shrunk, hiding their faces when Wisesa's gaze landed on them.
"What the—why are you hiding?" Wisesa pointed at a man cowering behind a torch pole. "You, yes you, stupid ass. I know your brainpower is limited to receiving orders from random people, but come on! There are way better hiding spots around here! If I were Barong, I'd eat you with the torch pole as well!"
The man immediately ran away until he was stumbled by pebbles.
"Alright, back to earlier; why are you hiding? Come on, push that old fart back down!" []
They actually found the missing children.
They thought this was the ultimatum promised by Alas Purwo Sunanate. If so, the cunning schemes of the Yawadwipa state's officials had played right into their hands.
The forest to the west of Tumaritis village was only a stone's throw away, but it might as well be in another world. For when the villagers set their sights on the twisted puppets made of flesh and fibre dangling from the trees, their eyes yearned to be blind. The number of grotesque effigies matched that of the vanished children—without Cahyaningrum to participate. All naked. The air scalded their flesh because their skin was snatched away. Their thick crimson drops quenched the earth's thirst.
The sound of wailing filled the air, emanating from almost every throat. Grown men crumpled to the ground, faces creased in despair, while the women's tough façade crumbled away. No one could bear to witness the children's terrible demise, let alone see them stripped of their skin. Who could ever bear to witness this depraved spectacle, a macabre masterpiece wrought upon the Earth?
Even Alicia had to flee to somewhere less desolate, to be rid of the sickening queasiness that struck her.
"I warned you that you wouldn't be comfortable looking at it." Gareng rubbed the girl's shoulder to soothe her stomach, though the pukes continued to choke her throat.
Alicia clutched her fiery red hair, fingers knotted tightly in despair. She regretted going, but she also regretted that lifes were lost because of her. The thought of her friends, Kiran and Cempaka, shrieking as their skin was peeled away like a cheap coat was too much to bear. The knowledge that both shisyhas were among the dangling figures and no one would recognise them shallowed her breath. Again and again, her lips uttered the word "wretched", until her lips were too stiff to express something else, like the full extent of her fury towards the mind behind this atrocity.
"Go!" Gareng urged Alicia with a push. "Don't linger around anymore, go back to Father. Go!"
Semar's children and the villagers climbed the trees reluctantly to cut the children's ropes, with revulsion ever-present in the pits of their stomachs. Their trembling hands recoiled at the touch of the gruesome flesh. Their eyes were tear-swollen, some had to turn away, lest their living faces met the stiff-muscled grin of the departed.
Before wrapping the bodies, they removed the boards that had been nailed to the poor children's chests. It seemed that the wicked perpetrators had run out of rope and resorted to using wooden planks secured with small pegs. Each plank bore an identical inscription. Only from up close could they read the sign...
***
Alicia had made her way to the village with her breath sometimes caught in her throat. Her hands were already tugging at the cloak her mother had given her, hoping that even in a ghostly spirit, the mother would give her a glimmer of comfort. It was the cold fabric tempered by air that she felt, not the warmth of her mother's affection, to her dismay.
Her steps halted. The minute Alicia stood still she realised she was shaking, and her knees could not hold the weight of the emotional pandemonium inside her much longer. She cradled Orb to her chest in an attempt to self-soothe, but tears were already welling up in her eyes before she could hold them back. They were children. From all the complicated affairs and political chaos of the selfish adults, it was the children who had to take the brunt. She opened her eyes again and regarded Orb with its concerned white eyes. Again came the urge for self-reproach.
Alicia, don't do that again, please, Orb's pleaded in its purr.
"My friends! I have the strongest might," Alicia sobbed, "yet I cannae prevent—"
You have the strongest might, but it doesn't enable you to control everything! Orb chastised. You are no gods. Even gods choose misery to remain among their people. You are the chosen one, but the world doesn't revolve around you. Do not shoulder all the blame.
A tinge of denial still held strong in her heart. "Does it really need to happen?"
It does.
"Why?"
So people can be reminded of what they are. That they are not in complete control. But at the same time, to learn to value what they have better. It grants you wisdom and enables everyone to experience the feeling of having hope, especially when it comes from you.
"I still can't accept it. I still can't accept Kiran, Cempaka, and other children deserved such a fate for me, or the rest." Alicia sank her face to Orb's surface. Her crying had slowly subsided, but intermittent sniffs betrayed her lingering sadness. "Why can't we just have a lovely reality from the start, so we don't need to hope?"
Because that means you can't act, feel, and want the way you've done all this time. You wouldn't truly know the depth and authenticity of your love for something, as love is a reciprocal connection, and you are as scripted as the automaton.
Being scripted as Automaton sure sounded monotonous. Regardless, Alicia held onto her orb companion in silence before finally stating, "It's still too hard to swallow."
Chin up, my wielder. Raise your feet and go. You will gain understanding.
Alicia wiped her dewy glasses and obeyed Orb's words. As she entered the village, Alicia already found more people gathered near Ki Semar's house gate. Soldiers and people with foreign faces according to the girl's senses. They seemed to be grumbling—perhaps holding a protest at the same time. Only when she passed them one by one did the noise die down. All eyes turned towards her, multiplying the constriction in her chest. Dark intentions seemed to linger around them, and soon, their kris would be drawn on her, the one with a Westernised face.
"Alicia! Quickly, come inside!" Semar's voice broke the tension.
The girl's footsteps accelerated until she reached the gate. Alicia rushed and embraced Semar and Kanastren. Nyai Kanastren returned the hug.
"It’s terrible! I can't find them—I can’t find Kiran and Cempaka… I can’t… I can’t…" Alicia shivered the more she recalled the scene.
"Oh, Miss Alicia! Why did you even go there, ¹lare bodo!" scolded Nyai Kanastren, while shedding tears. Without even looking, Semar's wife was already shivering from the cries of the people outside.
They hugged for a while before Alicia cancelled burying her face. "Who... are those people?"
"They're from the neighbouring villages whose children were among the victims." Ki Semar replied. "Stay with my wife. Let me handle these people.”
Alicia and Kanastren sat in the studio with ears attuned to the headman's weighty words as he fulfilled his solemn duties. Duties that seemed to be one of the most onerous. It was not difficult to battle bandits, but it was another matter to comfort people whose hopes had been dashed. Semar's wife kindly offered Alicia breakfast, but the thought of the human-shaped meat hanger left her stomach roiling.
In time, the people of Tumaritis returned to their village with the children sealed in body bags. The grief-stricken villagers were soon besieged by others from nearby, their anguished cries echoing through the air. A commotion broke out when a father attempted to pry open one of the bags in search of his son's face, only to be stopped by fellow villagers as they, too, were unable to distinguish one child from another. It was not until the man revealed the grisly contents of one of the bags that the mothers fell to the ground and writhed in agony. Their wailing crescendoed. The newly-arrived sunlight realised the irony of them mourning, bathed in golden and benevolent light.
"How can this be, Kasinggihan? We cannot take our children home when we do not know which ones belong to us!" cried one villager in the tongue of Yawa, with others sounding in agreement.
"I understand your frustration," Ki Semar said, placing a hand on the shoulders of some of the villagers. "If you wish, we can call upon the Duchy of Pulomas to help identify the victims by taking a small sample of your blood. However, we must freeze the bodies immediately to prevent spoilage. We must also make offerings to Sang Hyang Sukra to welcome the children to Sukraloka. Will you be willing to wait a little longer?"
With faces haggard in grief, people murmured amongst themselves before nodding in unison. Alas, the matter was far from resolved. A man from the back row pushed his way forward, brandishing a wooden bar from one of the corpses. He held it menacingly close to Ki Semar's face.
"Threats from the killer!" he shouted. "They demand that we hand over Barong and the owner of Kalimasada to Alas Purwo. If we refuse, they will kidnap more people starting tomorrow night and promise that the day of judgment will come sooner than expected!"
"What? Alas Purwo are nothing but bastards! So our poor children were never part of the ultimatum in the first place?" exclaimed another villager, the others joining in with curses directed towards the sovereign state of Yawadwipa.
The person continued, "Not only that! We did not expect that you, Kasinggihan, would hide Barong in this village—who turns out to be the crown prince of Alas Purwo himself! You've been lying to us! Did you deliberately put Tumaritis and the other villages in danger?"
It was the fuel to the villagers' anger. Nods and murmurs of agreement rippled through the crowd like waves of wildfire.
"Now Barong has vanished into the forest and we are not safe! We cannot live in fear forever! We must take matters into our own hands and kill Barong!" The cries of another villager grew louder. Their fury shattered the tranquil birdsong. Semar's sons tried to reason with the mob, urging them to stay calm and rational. But how could they expect mourning hearts to be rational? The siege of grief had shattered the villagers' sense of security and stability.
"I never lie to you because I never utter these things! I understand that not all of you may embrace this notion, but I remain steadfast in my desire for all to extend acceptance to one another. It is the very purpose behind the establishment of the village of Tumaritis, the reason I have safeguarded Wisesa under my care!" Semar countered. He then unveiled a long-concealed truth shared with Wisesa and Alicia. "Wisesa never meant to harm us, let alone destroy the entire Pulomas Duchy from within! He is a victim, just like all of us. A victim of abuse at the hands of the Alas Purwo Sunan, the Panggaraknagara of Lojitengara!"
"You expect us to trust your words now? After concealing the truth that may hang our lives in the balance? Look at our skinless kids!" retorted the protester. "Barong has been hunting us for a long time, and now this mysterious kidnapper has appeared. This must be a planned conquest by the Sunanate!"
More yelling arose as a sign that their anger had blinded them to reason.
But their senseless rage was not yet satiated. Unaware of the gravity of the situation, a villager from a neighbouring village pointed an accusing finger at Alicia Crimsonmane behind the gate. "And now we've heard rumors that she is the holder of Kalimasada. And she's a Westerner! Once again, a Westerner interferes with our lives. Aren't you satisfied with the power of your Kalimasada, invader? Go back to your own land!"
The residents of Tumaritis, who had once welcomed Alicia with open arms, now despised her with thrashing fists. Orb prevented its wielder from throwing a self-loath; now they were the ones with the honour of carrying the job.
"They're accusing me of something, I can feel it," Alicia in Kanastren's arms murmured.
"Don't be influenced by them. Keep your mind and heart calm," Kanastren replied gently.
"Enough with your slander!" Gareng puffed out his chest and stood tall. The other members of Semar's entourage, Petruk, Bagong, and a platoon of bodyguards, also stepped forward to prevent anyone from acting rashly.
The heat of the mid-morning was intense as they inhaled each other's exhales, surging to the top of their heads. Despite the oppressive heat, the man who had accused Alicia earlier remained steadfast in his belief that she was to blame for their troubles. They cared not for Alicia's age or innocence, only that she held the might regarded as the Origins of The Gods. "The Kalimasada wielder has only shown favoritism to a select few, while many of us have been left out in the cold. Why don't you use your power to prevent further tragedy?" the man spat. "Foolish woman! What kind of Kalimasada wielder are you?"
More spittles were spewed out in anger yet they failed to reach the lass, making the villagers' frustration mount. Alicia did not need to understand the words to feel their anger; their mannerisms were akin to sharp daggers pointed in her direction.
"Handing over Kalimasada and Barong to the cursed Alas Purwo? That is madness!" echoed another villager. "Let us take Kalimasada from the Westerner and use it to destroy Barong, the kidnapper, and Alas Purwo!"
"You're talking rubbish!" Bagong was quick to snap back. "Who are you to think you can take Kalimasada from the chosen one, you moron!"
"Ladies and gentlemen," Semar interjected, "I implore you to think carefully about your words. This is a time of mourning, not a time for reckless action."
The villagers had turned daft. The chants of "Take Kalimasada from the western crook" rang through the air. They pushed against Semar's guards to the point they persuaded them to betray their duty and join in the chaos. The bodies in the bags just lay there, forgotten, mere spectators to the comedy that only the living could deliver. This was the third day of the Uryanwarsa holiday. When this celebration was over, no one would have the sense to plough the fields, for there was a war to be fought. What good was an abundance of barley if there was no "justice"?
"Stop!" Petruk's voice boomed through the crowd, as he held a man's head through the crack of his armpit. "If you try to break through, I'll toss you into the sky!"
"Petruk!" Semar glared at his tall son.
"What? It's a safety measure if we have to."
Ki Semar craned his neck to a pair of women near the studio. "Into the house, quick!"
A group of bodyguards sprang into action, escorting the women to safety. Kanastren pulled on Alicia's dress and guided her towards the trapezoid-roofed house.
The villagers were too busy battling to notice the eerie silence that had descended upon the rest parts of the village. They did not know a mysterious person was sneaking into the village’s boundary.
A young man in beskap suit and blangkon pushed his way through the angry crowd. None of the villagers recognised him at first, but the widening eyes of Semar and his children gave it away. A middle-aged woman twisted her neck to meet his sharp yellow eyes.
"Wisesa!" the woman shouted. "Barong!"
The mere mention of Barong echoed through the crowd, and panic spread like wildfire. People scattered, seeking refuge behind torch poles and walls of houses. Even Alicia, at the back of the centre, could hear the screams and hurried back to the gate. A small glimmer of relief in her chest, to know that her belief from last night had been proven true.
Wisesa stood alone in the centre of the empty field. Semar's guards were still there, rifles at the ready. He scanned around while acting a fool, then turned. The villagers, once furious, shrunk, hiding their faces when Wisesa's gaze landed on them.
"What the—why are you hiding?" Wisesa pointed at a man cowering behind a torch pole. "You, yes you, stupid ass. I know your brainpower is limited to receiving orders from random people, but come on! There are way better hiding spots around here! If I were Barong, I'd eat you with the torch pole as well!"
The man immediately ran away until he was stumbled by pebbles.
"Alright, back to earlier; why are you hiding? Come on, push that old fart back down!" []
