"Barong is loose! Barong is loose!"
A colossal armoured tiger sprang onto a carriage roof with massive paws tearing through its flimsy fabric. Its charioteer was snatched up in the beast's jaws and lifted high into the air; a form of revel from the creature in its newfound liberty.
The carriage line clattered to a halt. Soldiers and shamans alike scattered. The circular siege formation was made, but Barong remained oblivious; it was still indulging itself with the charioteer, now split in two.
"Rifles!"
The soldiers cocked their slender arsenals. If they had learnt from the past, such crude instruments would have been an insult to the great Barong. Barong itself made that point.
Barrels gleamed with a resplendent amethyst sheen. Whizzing bullets merely grazed its skin, shedding clumps of red, white, and black fur. A lesson taught to inflame Barong more than ever. The gunmen thought they were getting smarter, but only the dull-witted courted the wrath of a sacred creature.
The loss of its regal fur made Barong lose its appetite. All eardrums were throbbed by its roar as it threw its meal at them and leapt. The fingers of the Girahite shamans quivered up and down. Exerting their inner strength, they restrained Barong in the air and hurled it backwards, crushing yet another carriage beneath its massive form!
The Girahites split their formation again. Altogether, several Leyaks approached Barong while weaving a lithe dance. Their white cloth garments fluttered around them, torn into long strips, but how miraculous it was when the strips grew longer in a perpetual motion, yet the shamans were not left naked.
As roll after roll of white cloth was amassed, the Leyaks raised their fever-stricken hands. All the cotton-crotched strips soared and knitted themselves together, creating a handkerchief full of magical carvings as broad as the roof of a house.
Meanwhile, another group of flying Leyaks called out to the trees to stop dawdling and follow the birds' lead. And rise they did, the trees breaking free from their roots and tossing themselves towards Barong. They pinned it to the carriage roof. An act of betrayal towards the Patron of Lands.
The previous unit flung the great swath of fabric with abandon, allowing it to billow and twist in the air until it descended upon the unruly Barong, swallowing it whole. Their fingers interlaced in a graceful dance, rising and falling in time with the rhythm of their chant. Then, as one, they raised their palms to the sky, fingers trembling with power, as ancient words were intoned three times:
“¹Piteket salanturne, Durga, penunggu pintu antar jagat sane paling agung, pengawak leluhur kami sane suci! Dados musuh-musuh kami nyantosang tongkat ring rahina antarané, ring sisi sane téngah, inggih punika anu tios kadadong, yén kaicen tusing wantah galah rauh! Lintang lan banten ring sakadi ngenehang sané paling dasar yén kaicen antukne nunas ngaturang bhakti ring sang Hyang Widhi!
Piteket salanturne, Durga, penunggu pintu antar jagat sane paling agung, pengawak leluhur kami sane suci! Musuh sareng-sareng tusing ngalih saking tanah puniki, nanging kaketah ring loka mu, nunas ngelampah-lampah angin ribut sane nyelang tangi, lan panglalah janténg sareng séndhi ring ngajengin lébu!
Diam ring genah sareng sami, patut ngarang wibawa kami, puput sareng ngelungah ring pengadilan Durga - sane kakawitin jagate sihir, mangkin sida matilar ing alam sane pinih ngidih!"
Even beneath the solar glare, the fabric stood proud in flashing lightning and depicting a giant tiger silhouette writhing in torment! White smoke erupted from the cursed blanket, along with Barong's throaty growl that thrilled the air.
"How could it escape from the coffin of Titiksa Nisala?" bellowed the chief warrior of Alas Purwo. The shaman who had been with him earlier was equally incensed as he examined the shattered chest on the split chariot. He grasped the splinters until they crumbled and blood oozed out of his palm.
"This coffin is a fake, and so is the seal painting. It doesn't use consecrated ink," the shaman said as he reassured his chief, "Fear not, sir. The Knowledge of Ugig shall render Barong powerless!"
Suddenly, a boom from within the white blanket stirred the ground they stood on. The giant cloth became lifeless as the mound beneath it ceased to move. The prowess of The Knowledge of Ugig, a magical practice performed by the Girahite shamans to blaze their soul to become a Leyak. Which Alicia had once witnessed on her very first encounter. With the same move, they had learnt to use it to curse others who were enshrouded in the blanket.
The concept of creating a giant blanket the size of Barong did sound intellectual. However, how the Divine had cursed them, for the previous shamans who were killed by it held invaluable wisdom that, if they had known, they would not have cast spells in the name of the aspect of Sang Hyang Sukra that their own people had slain.
The invaluable wisdom that the mantra was not enough. The invaluable wisdom that their actions rendered them no longer alive in this world, despite their healthy breathing lungs. Barong was still devastated by Mrajapati's death.
The Leyaks approached the magic cloth with cautious steps. Their hands had become accustomed to shaking as part of the ritual. However, their trembling was now accompanied by sweat. Before they could open the enchanted tarp, something slipped out. The white cloth now took the shape of a wooden block. They were doomed.
The forest was alive with an unusual uproar, a discordance almost akin to war. The screams of men and the staccato of gunfire were so deafening that even the birds fell motionless due to heart attack. A tempestuous inferno danced around, surging with waves of power that destroyed the marching carriages. The bombardment of exploding timber burst every heart and lung as if nature itself besieged them. Stomachs were ripped open and their content spilt by the rushing wind as swift as the Thunderkeeper's lightning. No one could tell how long this attack would last, as they were too busy calculating how many ways to avoid the massacre
There were none.
It was better not to ask the fate of all men there. Even if some managed to escape, they were wandering spirits.
Except for one fortunate soul, a red-haired one who slept soundly, bound and oblivious to the explosions and bangings against the metal walls of the train. When Barong stumbled upon Alicia during its vehicle inspection, its initial plan was to gorge on her as part of its ritualistic eating habits. Barong's extermination spree was all about eating, eating, eating more humans.
However, Wisesa laboured to tear apart Barong's flesh tissue from within and succeeded. The colossal tiger's flesh met another demise. Its spirit was confined once more to the subconscious.
Before he returned to Alicia, Wisesa rummaged through the carriage, finding a copper box filled with sweet and spicy tobacco and a horn pipe. He whistled softly, then wore a subtle smile as his fingers glided over the smooth, hard surface of the greenish horn.
"At least the people of Girah have something cool: using the horn of a noble sembrani stallion as a smoking pipe. Nice insult."
Rattling the cart further, he uncovered a sealed box containing the Arcane might. Wisesa whistled again, a malicious grin spreading across his face. He also found an oval-shaped backpack with Girahite signature blue carvings, which turned out to be a dimension bag capable of holding multiple items of varying sizes. It was not stealing, he reasoned, as no one claimed the items. The ghosts from the massacre no longer had any use for them, so, finders, keepers!
With his loot in tow, Wisesa returned to Alicia and chuckled softly to himself. "Poor girl," he whispered. "If I leave you here alone, I wonder who will have you. Either a wild beast or a robber with uncontrollable lust."
He slapped Alicia hard, leaving a hand-shaped red mark on her white cheeks. However, Alicia remained stoic, her eyebrows betraying no emotion. Wisesa's chortle grew louder; his resentment towards the lass was satisfied. He had been denied the pleasure for too long because of her friend, the blue Orb.
"Alright, I'll stop," he said. "I know you're crying inside from the the slap. Westerners are so whiny."
With that, he dragged Alicia out of the carriage and into the depths of the forest.
***
The nights should have been for sleeping. But because of the foreign powder blown by Ki Semar, Alicia might miss out on a wondrous dream session beneath the twinkling stars. She needed not fret though, for the nocturnal forest creatures were only beginning to emerge from their playful activities.
The howls of dholes made her brows furrow. At last, some external sensory stimulation after a long slumber. A cape tree became her neckrest. Slowly, her ruby eyes became visible. Although her glasses were still attached, her tired eyes were still struggling with the light. In the momentary blur, she recognised the tongues of fire flickering on the ground. And there, in the midst of it all, was Wisesa, cradling Orb with his own hands, as he puffed on a roll of tobacco nestled in a horse horn.
"Good morning, Princess," Wisesa greeted her. She watched as he brought his right hand towards his face, revealing a black and gold mechanical glove that covered his fingers.
Taking a drag from his tobacco, Wisesa exclaimed, "Damn, this shit hits! Why didn't anyone tell me about this before? The Girahites are better at blending tobacco spices than my own damn kind!"
Putting out his cigarette, Wisesa turned his attention to Alicia. "Hey, maybe a nerd like you would appreciate this." With practised ease, he twisted his wrist and manipulated the girdle on his gauntlet, causing the framework to draw closer together until it morphed into a block that Orb was sunk into.
Wisesa grinned. "Cool, isn't it? Semar's Seal Box can transform into a glove with a series of movements. So, you see, since I don't directly touch Orb, I don't have to fear snatching it from you anymore. Wait, I already did it." The laughter that followed was laced with a hint of condescension.
Alicia was still struggling to regain consciousness. She tried to respond to Wisesa's words, only to find the tight cloth mesh pressed against her teeth and tongue. Her consciousness rose dramatically! She was about to get up, but once again, a sense of restraint arose when she wanted to move her arms. She saw that rough ropes had held captive her arms, legs, and breasts. Alicia writhed about in excessive panic. The heat from her feet and hands rubbing against the abrasive rope added to her discomfort.
"Wmphh! Hmmph hmpphh? Mmphhh orhmphh hmmphh!" she whimpered behind her gag. Her body was leaned backwards to emphasise her point.
Seeing the bespectacled lass trying to rebel only gave Wisesa the butterflies to tease her further. "What did you say? Come now, you already have a weird accent, now you're making a new one that's even more obscure? Speak like a normal!"
"Wmphh wmmphh!" Alicia's feet pounded the ground like a childlike tantrum. But the young lad’s banter was far from over. He approached the bespectacled lass and squatted right in front of her. He opened the sealed box, dangling Orb close to her wide-eyed face.
"I got the orb, and you don't. Barong's with me, and you all are hogtied in the woods. Told you to give me the orb. I meant what I said."
"Hmmph!" Alicia tried to headbutt Wisesa's hand, but he deftly kept his hand away and smacked her temple with another. He then walked back, watching as she moaned, dropped down, and forced to slither towards him. Every attempt from the lad to taunt her eroded the resolve to pursue him.
"What are you going to do, little missy from the West? What's your game? Oh, you want to chase me? Ha! That's amusing. Come on then. Here's my ass, snatch it up, Slanted Eye Snake!" He waggled his behind while dancing, revelling in his amusement at baiting the hapless girl. His laughter felt like he had not had this much fun in ages.
What did Alicia expect? The ropes were too tight. Even without any mockery, she would surrender on her own. Sure enough, she writhed and thrashed in place. After a while, watching her squirm and scream was quite disturbing, too. The gag did not help much.
Wisesa hissed. "Alicia, it's late. Don't make a scene, especially in the forest!"
Alicia did not care. Her struggles intensified. The muttering from her gagged mouth grew louder, blurting out "Orb" over and over again.
"Okay, okay! I'll let you go. Just stay still, okay? One moment..." He knelt down in front of her. Alicia did not think twice and just complied, raising her head to Wisesa's nosy and ludicrous face with a wide-eyed stare. Expecting his rough hands to loosen the knot, she was wrong. Instead, he plucked the glasses off her face and held them up to the light.
"Hnghh!"
"Oh, is this what it's like to be a myopic-eyed nerd?" giggled Wisesa. “How do you even walk the streets with glasses the size of handballs? Pathetic!"
With a flourish, he closed the glasses and dropped them near the fireplace, out of Alicia's reach. She crawled around aimlessly with narrowed eyes in the hope that her hand or chin could ever sense them.
"Alright then, I'm out of here!" Wisesa slung his bag over his shoulder, making sure that the sealed box was still safely inside. "Just keep shouting, missy. Let the dholes or the Leyaks come visit you! As for me, I have a date with Orb..."
The girl's pitiful whimpering dwindled into a series of shuddering moans. A plea not to abandon her in the eerie, dim-lit forest. But alas, that git had already been ensnared by his love for the orb. He cast one last indifferent glance at Alicia before leaving her alone in the company of the flickering flames and the encroaching darkness.
"Hmphh mphh! Orhmphh! Orhmph!"
Alicia's heart raced. The figure of Wisesa was no longer visible—the whole world was no longer visible to her. The campfire did little as a means of comfort, and her mental stability was challenged by her ragged gasps. Searching for her glasses in obscurity was already a heavy onus, an absurdity in her frenzied mind. There's no way Wisesa would bring me here just to leave me behind, is there? Absolutely not! was her current frame of mind.
But after twenty long minutes of waiting in vain, the optimism was crushed. She had no other choice but to take matters into her own hands and find a way to free herself from the ropes.
Just as she was hovering over a sharp rock near a bush, the bushes around her began to rustle and shake. Startled, Alicia struggled to roll over and lean against the tree she had been resting against earlier. The noise in the bushes was even more pronounced, and the dense leaves trembled like the girl's quivering body. What kind of ordeal is this? Alicia was drenched in sweat. She closed her eyes tightly, her head shaking, her whimpers disjointed like a dog's cry.
Eventually, the rustling ceased, and nothing appeared from behind the bushes. But Alicia grew even more anxious if the bushes fell silent.
Sure enough, another strange noise emerged, this time from behind the tree she was leaning against. A scraping sound from top to bottom, someone or something was scratching the log.
Before Alicia could scream again, the mysterious hand snared her neck from behind! []
1. “Heed our prayers, O Durga, dwelling at the supreme gate of realms, watcher of our divine fathers! Let our enemy find your hidden staff that none shall see if one desires not a curse! A curse from the inner heart that only you shall give!
Hurry to do our bidding, O Durga, lord of the gates between worlds supreme, watcher of our divine fathers! It is not that our enemies tread the ground where we dwell, but are trapped in your world, seeing the thunderous lightning, and your face dwelling in the tomb!
Stay where you are, bow to our authority, stand still to await the judgement of Durga—who has judged the world of thaumaturgy, who now delivers the dead to their rightful realm!"
"Barong is loose! Barong is loose!"
A colossal armoured tiger sprang onto a carriage roof with massive paws tearing through its flimsy fabric. Its charioteer was snatched up in the beast's jaws and lifted high into the air; a form of revel from the creature in its newfound liberty.
The carriage line clattered to a halt. Soldiers and shamans alike scattered. The circular siege formation was made, but Barong remained oblivious; it was still indulging itself with the charioteer, now split in two.
"Rifles!"
The soldiers cocked their slender arsenals. If they had learnt from the past, such crude instruments would have been an insult to the great Barong. Barong itself made that point.
Barrels gleamed with a resplendent amethyst sheen. Whizzing bullets merely grazed its skin, shedding clumps of red, white, and black fur. A lesson taught to inflame Barong more than ever. The gunmen thought they were getting smarter, but only the dull-witted courted the wrath of a sacred creature.
The loss of its regal fur made Barong lose its appetite. All eardrums were throbbed by its roar as it threw its meal at them and leapt. The fingers of the Girahite shamans quivered up and down. Exerting their inner strength, they restrained Barong in the air and hurled it backwards, crushing yet another carriage beneath its massive form!
The Girahites split their formation again. Altogether, several Leyaks approached Barong while weaving a lithe dance. Their white cloth garments fluttered around them, torn into long strips, but how miraculous it was when the strips grew longer in a perpetual motion, yet the shamans were not left naked.
As roll after roll of white cloth was amassed, the Leyaks raised their fever-stricken hands. All the cotton-crotched strips soared and knitted themselves together, creating a handkerchief full of magical carvings as broad as the roof of a house.
Meanwhile, another group of flying Leyaks called out to the trees to stop dawdling and follow the birds' lead. And rise they did, the trees breaking free from their roots and tossing themselves towards Barong. They pinned it to the carriage roof. An act of betrayal towards the Patron of Lands.
The previous unit flung the great swath of fabric with abandon, allowing it to billow and twist in the air until it descended upon the unruly Barong, swallowing it whole. Their fingers interlaced in a graceful dance, rising and falling in time with the rhythm of their chant. Then, as one, they raised their palms to the sky, fingers trembling with power, as ancient words were intoned three times:
“¹Piteket salanturne, Durga, penunggu pintu antar jagat sane paling agung, pengawak leluhur kami sane suci! Dados musuh-musuh kami nyantosang tongkat ring rahina antarané, ring sisi sane téngah, inggih punika anu tios kadadong, yén kaicen tusing wantah galah rauh! Lintang lan banten ring sakadi ngenehang sané paling dasar yén kaicen antukne nunas ngaturang bhakti ring sang Hyang Widhi!
Piteket salanturne, Durga, penunggu pintu antar jagat sane paling agung, pengawak leluhur kami sane suci! Musuh sareng-sareng tusing ngalih saking tanah puniki, nanging kaketah ring loka mu, nunas ngelampah-lampah angin ribut sane nyelang tangi, lan panglalah janténg sareng séndhi ring ngajengin lébu!
Diam ring genah sareng sami, patut ngarang wibawa kami, puput sareng ngelungah ring pengadilan Durga - sane kakawitin jagate sihir, mangkin sida matilar ing alam sane pinih ngidih!"
Even beneath the solar glare, the fabric stood proud in flashing lightning and depicting a giant tiger silhouette writhing in torment! White smoke erupted from the cursed blanket, along with Barong's throaty growl that thrilled the air.
"How could it escape from the coffin of Titiksa Nisala?" bellowed the chief warrior of Alas Purwo. The shaman who had been with him earlier was equally incensed as he examined the shattered chest on the split chariot. He grasped the splinters until they crumbled and blood oozed out of his palm.
"This coffin is a fake, and so is the seal painting. It doesn't use consecrated ink," the shaman said as he reassured his chief, "Fear not, sir. The Knowledge of Ugig shall render Barong powerless!"
Suddenly, a boom from within the white blanket stirred the ground they stood on. The giant cloth became lifeless as the mound beneath it ceased to move. The prowess of The Knowledge of Ugig, a magical practice performed by the Girahite shamans to blaze their soul to become a Leyak. Which Alicia had once witnessed on her very first encounter. With the same move, they had learnt to use it to curse others who were enshrouded in the blanket.
The concept of creating a giant blanket the size of Barong did sound intellectual. However, how the Divine had cursed them, for the previous shamans who were killed by it held invaluable wisdom that, if they had known, they would not have cast spells in the name of the aspect of Sang Hyang Sukra that their own people had slain.
The invaluable wisdom that the mantra was not enough. The invaluable wisdom that their actions rendered them no longer alive in this world, despite their healthy breathing lungs. Barong was still devastated by Mrajapati's death.
The Leyaks approached the magic cloth with cautious steps. Their hands had become accustomed to shaking as part of the ritual. However, their trembling was now accompanied by sweat. Before they could open the enchanted tarp, something slipped out. The white cloth now took the shape of a wooden block. They were doomed.
The forest was alive with an unusual uproar, a discordance almost akin to war. The screams of men and the staccato of gunfire were so deafening that even the birds fell motionless due to heart attack. A tempestuous inferno danced around, surging with waves of power that destroyed the marching carriages. The bombardment of exploding timber burst every heart and lung as if nature itself besieged them. Stomachs were ripped open and their content spilt by the rushing wind as swift as the Thunderkeeper's lightning. No one could tell how long this attack would last, as they were too busy calculating how many ways to avoid the massacre
There were none.
It was better not to ask the fate of all men there. Even if some managed to escape, they were wandering spirits.
Except for one fortunate soul, a red-haired one who slept soundly, bound and oblivious to the explosions and bangings against the metal walls of the train. When Barong stumbled upon Alicia during its vehicle inspection, its initial plan was to gorge on her as part of its ritualistic eating habits. Barong's extermination spree was all about eating, eating, eating more humans.
However, Wisesa laboured to tear apart Barong's flesh tissue from within and succeeded. The colossal tiger's flesh met another demise. Its spirit was confined once more to the subconscious.
Before he returned to Alicia, Wisesa rummaged through the carriage, finding a copper box filled with sweet and spicy tobacco and a horn pipe. He whistled softly, then wore a subtle smile as his fingers glided over the smooth, hard surface of the greenish horn.
"At least the people of Girah have something cool: using the horn of a noble sembrani stallion as a smoking pipe. Nice insult."
Rattling the cart further, he uncovered a sealed box containing the Arcane might. Wisesa whistled again, a malicious grin spreading across his face. He also found an oval-shaped backpack with Girahite signature blue carvings, which turned out to be a dimension bag capable of holding multiple items of varying sizes. It was not stealing, he reasoned, as no one claimed the items. The ghosts from the massacre no longer had any use for them, so, finders, keepers!
With his loot in tow, Wisesa returned to Alicia and chuckled softly to himself. "Poor girl," he whispered. "If I leave you here alone, I wonder who will have you. Either a wild beast or a robber with uncontrollable lust."
He slapped Alicia hard, leaving a hand-shaped red mark on her white cheeks. However, Alicia remained stoic, her eyebrows betraying no emotion. Wisesa's chortle grew louder; his resentment towards the lass was satisfied. He had been denied the pleasure for too long because of her friend, the blue Orb.
"Alright, I'll stop," he said. "I know you're crying inside from the the slap. Westerners are so whiny."
With that, he dragged Alicia out of the carriage and into the depths of the forest.
***
The nights should have been for sleeping. But because of the foreign powder blown by Ki Semar, Alicia might miss out on a wondrous dream session beneath the twinkling stars. She needed not fret though, for the nocturnal forest creatures were only beginning to emerge from their playful activities.
The howls of dholes made her brows furrow. At last, some external sensory stimulation after a long slumber. A cape tree became her neckrest. Slowly, her ruby eyes became visible. Although her glasses were still attached, her tired eyes were still struggling with the light. In the momentary blur, she recognised the tongues of fire flickering on the ground. And there, in the midst of it all, was Wisesa, cradling Orb with his own hands, as he puffed on a roll of tobacco nestled in a horse horn.
"Good morning, Princess," Wisesa greeted her. She watched as he brought his right hand towards his face, revealing a black and gold mechanical glove that covered his fingers.
Taking a drag from his tobacco, Wisesa exclaimed, "Damn, this shit hits! Why didn't anyone tell me about this before? The Girahites are better at blending tobacco spices than my own damn kind!"
Putting out his cigarette, Wisesa turned his attention to Alicia. "Hey, maybe a nerd like you would appreciate this." With practised ease, he twisted his wrist and manipulated the girdle on his gauntlet, causing the framework to draw closer together until it morphed into a block that Orb was sunk into.
Wisesa grinned. "Cool, isn't it? Semar's Seal Box can transform into a glove with a series of movements. So, you see, since I don't directly touch Orb, I don't have to fear snatching it from you anymore. Wait, I already did it." The laughter that followed was laced with a hint of condescension.
Alicia was still struggling to regain consciousness. She tried to respond to Wisesa's words, only to find the tight cloth mesh pressed against her teeth and tongue. Her consciousness rose dramatically! She was about to get up, but once again, a sense of restraint arose when she wanted to move her arms. She saw that rough ropes had held captive her arms, legs, and breasts. Alicia writhed about in excessive panic. The heat from her feet and hands rubbing against the abrasive rope added to her discomfort.
"Wmphh! Hmmph hmpphh? Mmphhh orhmphh hmmphh!" she whimpered behind her gag. Her body was leaned backwards to emphasise her point.
Seeing the bespectacled lass trying to rebel only gave Wisesa the butterflies to tease her further. "What did you say? Come now, you already have a weird accent, now you're making a new one that's even more obscure? Speak like a normal!"
"Wmphh wmmphh!" Alicia's feet pounded the ground like a childlike tantrum. But the young lad’s banter was far from over. He approached the bespectacled lass and squatted right in front of her. He opened the sealed box, dangling Orb close to her wide-eyed face.
"I got the orb, and you don't. Barong's with me, and you all are hogtied in the woods. Told you to give me the orb. I meant what I said."
"Hmmph!" Alicia tried to headbutt Wisesa's hand, but he deftly kept his hand away and smacked her temple with another. He then walked back, watching as she moaned, dropped down, and forced to slither towards him. Every attempt from the lad to taunt her eroded the resolve to pursue him.
"What are you going to do, little missy from the West? What's your game? Oh, you want to chase me? Ha! That's amusing. Come on then. Here's my ass, snatch it up, Slanted Eye Snake!" He waggled his behind while dancing, revelling in his amusement at baiting the hapless girl. His laughter felt like he had not had this much fun in ages.
What did Alicia expect? The ropes were too tight. Even without any mockery, she would surrender on her own. Sure enough, she writhed and thrashed in place. After a while, watching her squirm and scream was quite disturbing, too. The gag did not help much.
Wisesa hissed. "Alicia, it's late. Don't make a scene, especially in the forest!"
Alicia did not care. Her struggles intensified. The muttering from her gagged mouth grew louder, blurting out "Orb" over and over again.
"Okay, okay! I'll let you go. Just stay still, okay? One moment..." He knelt down in front of her. Alicia did not think twice and just complied, raising her head to Wisesa's nosy and ludicrous face with a wide-eyed stare. Expecting his rough hands to loosen the knot, she was wrong. Instead, he plucked the glasses off her face and held them up to the light.
"Hnghh!"
"Oh, is this what it's like to be a myopic-eyed nerd?" giggled Wisesa. “How do you even walk the streets with glasses the size of handballs? Pathetic!"
With a flourish, he closed the glasses and dropped them near the fireplace, out of Alicia's reach. She crawled around aimlessly with narrowed eyes in the hope that her hand or chin could ever sense them.
"Alright then, I'm out of here!" Wisesa slung his bag over his shoulder, making sure that the sealed box was still safely inside. "Just keep shouting, missy. Let the dholes or the Leyaks come visit you! As for me, I have a date with Orb..."
The girl's pitiful whimpering dwindled into a series of shuddering moans. A plea not to abandon her in the eerie, dim-lit forest. But alas, that git had already been ensnared by his love for the orb. He cast one last indifferent glance at Alicia before leaving her alone in the company of the flickering flames and the encroaching darkness.
"Hmphh mphh! Orhmphh! Orhmph!"
Alicia's heart raced. The figure of Wisesa was no longer visible—the whole world was no longer visible to her. The campfire did little as a means of comfort, and her mental stability was challenged by her ragged gasps. Searching for her glasses in obscurity was already a heavy onus, an absurdity in her frenzied mind. There's no way Wisesa would bring me here just to leave me behind, is there? Absolutely not! was her current frame of mind.
But after twenty long minutes of waiting in vain, the optimism was crushed. She had no other choice but to take matters into her own hands and find a way to free herself from the ropes.
Just as she was hovering over a sharp rock near a bush, the bushes around her began to rustle and shake. Startled, Alicia struggled to roll over and lean against the tree she had been resting against earlier. The noise in the bushes was even more pronounced, and the dense leaves trembled like the girl's quivering body. What kind of ordeal is this? Alicia was drenched in sweat. She closed her eyes tightly, her head shaking, her whimpers disjointed like a dog's cry.
Eventually, the rustling ceased, and nothing appeared from behind the bushes. But Alicia grew even more anxious if the bushes fell silent.
Sure enough, another strange noise emerged, this time from behind the tree she was leaning against. A scraping sound from top to bottom, someone or something was scratching the log.
Before Alicia could scream again, the mysterious hand snared her neck from behind! []
1. “Heed our prayers, O Durga, dwelling at the supreme gate of realms, watcher of our divine fathers! Let our enemy find your hidden staff that none shall see if one desires not a curse! A curse from the inner heart that only you shall give!
Hurry to do our bidding, O Durga, lord of the gates between worlds supreme, watcher of our divine fathers! It is not that our enemies tread the ground where we dwell, but are trapped in your world, seeing the thunderous lightning, and your face dwelling in the tomb!
Stay where you are, bow to our authority, stand still to await the judgement of Durga—who has judged the world of thaumaturgy, who now delivers the dead to their rightful realm!"
