Wisesa unsheathed his kris while Semar and his other sons took their stand behind the invisible barrier. Their gazes were locked onto Alicia, who lay prostrate and bandaged upon the ground. An impulsive resolve drove Semar to thrust his open palm through the white circle strokes, only to be met with resistance as if striking an unseen wall of solid glass.
"Wisesa, what are you doing?" Ki Semar asked. "Undo this Knowledge of Rajah Glông Sira, at once!"
But Wisesa was unyielding. "Prove to me that you are not Girah's henchmen!"
"Wisesa..., I'm serious." An index finger warning was raised.
"Are you?" The young lad challenged. "So am I. Come on, try it!"
Upon a weary sigh, Semar's gnarled fist heaved a gust of force that sent Wisesa hurtling. Did the fist pass through the circle, it was a cue for the demise of Wisesa's magical dome.
Wisesa quickly retrieved his blangkon swept away by the previous blow, all the while marvelling at the enduring prowess the Semar exhibited, despite his stooped posture and sagging skin. "Damn it, so it is you," the lad admitted.
Of course, Ki Semar immediately turned his attention to the injured girl first. "What happened to your hand, Miss Alicia?".
Petruk and Gareng aided her to their feet, but when it came for Wisesa to rise, none offered him a hand.
Bagong had his curiosity piqued at what lay hidden beneath the bandage, but Alicia dismissed whatever was about to land on her hand. "A flying monkey bit me," the lass simply muttered.
"An ahool?" Bagong guessed.
Alicia affirmed with a nod. "And a Leyak attacked me with his tongue."
"By the gods!" Ki Semar exclaimed in alarm. "A Leyak's tongue contains deadly poison! We must quickly remove the poison before it spreads throughout the body!"
"No need. He's already gotten rid of all the poison." A pointed finger to Wisesa. The lass then delivered her promise: reporting on how he had attempted to murder her for Orb, to the point where he decided to drag her to his hut in a fit of remorse. Her voice resonated with fervour as she catalogued Wisesa's litany of sins.
Semar regarded Wisesa in disbelief. He frowned. His fluent speech began to fade. "I-I can't believe this!" he lamented. "How many times must I tell you, she is a guest of the village, and you have no right to wield the Kalimasada? You are a learned shaman, by the gods! How can you be so obtuse as to understand?"
"Tell me that, when you finally feel despair for the first time over the sickness inside you that won't go away!" Wisesa puffed out his chest. "As it turned out, you're also the one who made that girl keep bothering me with the Children of Prophecy, and the Purification Knowledge of Banaspatiraja! I told you, Barong cannot be fought with its own spells!"
Semar's fist clenched in rage. "You should at least try, young man, for you know nothing! Kalimasada is not subject to any spell and is more powerful than Barong. This lady, Wisesa, may be your only hope for a cure! But instead, you intend to take her life and seize the orb yourself for what conceivable purpose?"
"You are a fool, Wisesa!" Gareng interjected with disdain.
With a stern yet slow stroll, the headman drew nearer. His finger poke on the young man's chest caused a sharp pang. "I will not tolerate your actions any longer. Offer your apologies to Miss Alicia this instant!"
Wisesa's chest already swelled with defiance. "I owe no apologies to Westerners."
He spat on the ground.
And with that, the birds had to find a safer nest because Semar’s clanging fist sent Wisesa’s face reeling from tree to tree!
Gravity bent to Semar's whim. As the old man was lifted up, his body slipped into Wisesa's position and catapulted him once again in another direction. A flurry of fists and throngs of throws, yet the lad showed no sign of resistance, nor hint of surrender.
Of course, Alicia did not think that the proper punishment for Wisesa was to be slaughtered with superhuman strength. The man could have been dead long ago given Semar's unwillingness to restrain himself!
But for Wisesa, Semar's torment was the daily bread he partook of. A necessary sustenance that enabled him to endure the unrelenting onslaughts from Barong within his subconscious. Though the battle was one of the spirit, the physical toll manifested with every impact. Death was a concept he knew intimately, yet it remained a notion he refused to entertain, not yet.
As another of Semar's fists prepared to descend, Wisesa caught the old man’s hand and delivered a retaliatory blow. It was a cataclysmic, earth-shaking battle that left the forest animals scattered and the trees uprooted. In the darkness that shrouded them, Alicia and the three other children could only hear the cacophony of two warriors clashing, a symphony of grunts and impacts. At one point, the juveniles were almost crushed by a soaring teak tree! Such was Wisesa's principled stance; he would rather turn the green lushes he lived into a war zone than utter a single "sorry" to a single Westerner.
But in the end, it was Semar who was famed for his saga and achievements throughout a lifetime of magical combat. He cast Wisesa back to the feet of his three children and Alicia, where he resumed his physical torture. Wisesa's face was a mess of bruises, blackened and swollen beyond recognition, and Semar was still not content to add another one.
Did fathers in Lojitengara truly resort to such savagery when disciplining their children? The girl's conscience ached at the thought. Alicia too began to feel the weight of regret, as she realised that what she was witnessing was not only wrong, but also completely outside the realm of the ordinary.
Determined to put an end to the violence, Alicia stepped forward to intervene. But before she could do so, she was met with the blockade of Semar's other children.
"Alicia, let Father settle his things with Wisesa," Petruk pleaded.
"Settle things? That's more like killing him!" Alicia Crimsonmane exclaimed with growing concern.
Despite the efforts of the three siblings, Alicia broke through their blockade. They refused to yield, with Gareng gripping her right hand. "You're mistaken, Alicia," he said calmly. "Semar won't kill him. Just have patience."
"Gareng, what are you doing? Let go!"
Petruk grabbed her from behind, while Bagong stood in her way. They believed they acted in her best interest, but the more they restrained her, the more agitated she became. The thought of Wisesa incurring further harm became an intolerable yoke. She desperately yanked her left hand from the encumbering bandage, seized Orb, and unleashed Arcane energies upon all three!
No lives were lost in this petty dispute. Alicia managed to escape the clutches of Semar's three children and rushed towards the battling men.
Wisesa lay sprawled on the forest floor, crawling, his eyesight obscured by the burst blood vessel in his eyelid. Semar's snorting had not ceased, and it seemed his violent actions were the same.
"Ki Semar! Stop it already!" Alicia intervened between father and son. The source of Kalimasada’s essence was on her right hand. Her left hand drooped, fresh blood rising again under the bandage.
"H-hey...," Wisesa said weakly, "don't play with your left hand, you idiot! That wound's still fresh—"
"No, Wisesa. You shut up!" she snapped, turning her attention to the village headman. "That's enough, Ki Semar. I think you've punished him enough. Can we please just go home now?"
Semar was not convinced. "He hasn't shown any signs of deterrence, Miss. If anything happens to you again—"
"It's my fault!" Alicia interrupted. She turned her head to the battered Wisesa. "I was wrong to ask him first. I was wrong to harp him… It won't happen again. Once the harvest celebration is over, I'll go find another child. Wisesa's not ready yet. It's better to let him struggle on his own."
Semar looked at Alicia's wound, which might reopen. Perhaps her reckless behaviour was just a trivial matter. However, as he saw her intensity in trying to prevent further harm to both of them, Semar began to feel a pang of regret. Slowly, his fist loosened.
The dark wilderness was startled again by Wisesa's coughing laughter. He got up muttering Yawanese—surely a curse in itself. He passed the girl and Semar, then the three foster brothers. He shuffled into his favourite hut and slammed the door hard. Through her eyes, Alicia pleaded with the others to leave the man alone. Again, Wisesa was alone. In the end, he just lay in his own bed, accompanied by a small candle, forgotten…
***
Three days had slipped by since the incident. The tension between Alicia and Wisesa hung heavy in the air like a thick fog. They were strangers once again, their gazes never meeting, their conversations non-existent.
Despite the bruises still darkening his face, Wisesa stubbornly tended to Semar's pigs as if the previous days had never happened. The mud-bathed pigs were indeed the most humane creatures for him to confide in. His battered appearance caused whispers and sideways glances from the villagers, who saw him like a servant abused by his master, whispering "Deserved!" behind his back.
During these times, Alicia had devoted her attention to helping Nyai Kanastren and her students prepare for the harvest celebration. She could often be found in Semar's glass garden too, concocting more leaf-wrapped xixin projectiles or other latest alchemic creations from rare plants with Semar's permission. This to her, perhaps, was the sole corner in Tumaritis with the quiet stillness, a perfect site to find solace.
And three days after the incident as well, Tumaritis and possibly the entire island of Yawa were thrown into a state of jubilation amidst the war and a time of tension. Yawadwipa was celebrating the festival of Uryanwarsa, a period of thanksgiving to the gods for the bounteous harvest, followed by a fortnight of feasting. But the soldiers remained excluded from the festivities, for fear that the Alas Purwo soldiers might use the opportunity to ambush the unguarded rebel villages. Furthermore, the ultimatum deadline was nigh, and if the Duchy of Pulomas failed to yield, Alas Purwo would not hesitate to employ grievous combat tactics that would menace the future generations of Pulomas. Yet, the citizens of Pulomas seemed indifferent to the impending doom. A fortnight of revelry, in their eyes, held greater appeal than the anxiety of awaiting retribution from the capital's wrath.
The woman and children of Semar eagerly anticipated Alicia's participation in the festivities. At last, she finally emerged from the house, dressed in a white kebaya—a traditional dress for Yawanese women, with a colourful bathik cloth underneath. This outfit was a far cry from the everyday clothes that Alicia was used to seeing on the women of Tumaritis. The women, as a sign of respect, had donned themselves in more modest and dignified clothing.
The village was already buzzing with the beautiful melodies of the pasindhen—the female vocalist who provided accompaniment to regional Yawanese events—set against the harmonious backdrop of gamelan. Children perched atop the roofs, showering the Tumaritis village with vibrant confetti of chopped and painted coconut leaves. To Alicia, it was as if this rain of colours mirrored the joyful showering of blossoms at a grand Camelot wedding.
The grown women carried baskets of fruit and vegetables on their heads, while the men, in no way to be outdone, marshalled their might to transport a colossal platform bearing a priest intoning prayers and hills of crops and meats. They marched in a procession to the fields and gardens that served as the harvest's source. []
Wisesa unsheathed his kris while Semar and his other sons took their stand behind the invisible barrier. Their gazes were locked onto Alicia, who lay prostrate and bandaged upon the ground. An impulsive resolve drove Semar to thrust his open palm through the white circle strokes, only to be met with resistance as if striking an unseen wall of solid glass.
"Wisesa, what are you doing?" Ki Semar asked. "Undo this Knowledge of Rajah Glông Sira, at once!"
But Wisesa was unyielding. "Prove to me that you are not Girah's henchmen!"
"Wisesa..., I'm serious." An index finger warning was raised.
"Are you?" The young lad challenged. "So am I. Come on, try it!"
Upon a weary sigh, Semar's gnarled fist heaved a gust of force that sent Wisesa hurtling. Did the fist pass through the circle, it was a cue for the demise of Wisesa's magical dome.
Wisesa quickly retrieved his blangkon swept away by the previous blow, all the while marvelling at the enduring prowess the Semar exhibited, despite his stooped posture and sagging skin. "Damn it, so it is you," the lad admitted.
Of course, Ki Semar immediately turned his attention to the injured girl first. "What happened to your hand, Miss Alicia?".
Petruk and Gareng aided her to their feet, but when it came for Wisesa to rise, none offered him a hand.
Bagong had his curiosity piqued at what lay hidden beneath the bandage, but Alicia dismissed whatever was about to land on her hand. "A flying monkey bit me," the lass simply muttered.
"An ahool?" Bagong guessed.
Alicia affirmed with a nod. "And a Leyak attacked me with his tongue."
"By the gods!" Ki Semar exclaimed in alarm. "A Leyak's tongue contains deadly poison! We must quickly remove the poison before it spreads throughout the body!"
"No need. He's already gotten rid of all the poison." A pointed finger to Wisesa. The lass then delivered her promise: reporting on how he had attempted to murder her for Orb, to the point where he decided to drag her to his hut in a fit of remorse. Her voice resonated with fervour as she catalogued Wisesa's litany of sins.
Semar regarded Wisesa in disbelief. He frowned. His fluent speech began to fade. "I-I can't believe this!" he lamented. "How many times must I tell you, she is a guest of the village, and you have no right to wield the Kalimasada? You are a learned shaman, by the gods! How can you be so obtuse as to understand?"
"Tell me that, when you finally feel despair for the first time over the sickness inside you that won't go away!" Wisesa puffed out his chest. "As it turned out, you're also the one who made that girl keep bothering me with the Children of Prophecy, and the Purification Knowledge of Banaspatiraja! I told you, Barong cannot be fought with its own spells!"
Semar's fist clenched in rage. "You should at least try, young man, for you know nothing! Kalimasada is not subject to any spell and is more powerful than Barong. This lady, Wisesa, may be your only hope for a cure! But instead, you intend to take her life and seize the orb yourself for what conceivable purpose?"
"You are a fool, Wisesa!" Gareng interjected with disdain.
With a stern yet slow stroll, the headman drew nearer. His finger poke on the young man's chest caused a sharp pang. "I will not tolerate your actions any longer. Offer your apologies to Miss Alicia this instant!"
Wisesa's chest already swelled with defiance. "I owe no apologies to Westerners."
He spat on the ground.
And with that, the birds had to find a safer nest because Semar’s clanging fist sent Wisesa’s face reeling from tree to tree!
Gravity bent to Semar's whim. As the old man was lifted up, his body slipped into Wisesa's position and catapulted him once again in another direction. A flurry of fists and throngs of throws, yet the lad showed no sign of resistance, nor hint of surrender.
Of course, Alicia did not think that the proper punishment for Wisesa was to be slaughtered with superhuman strength. The man could have been dead long ago given Semar's unwillingness to restrain himself!
But for Wisesa, Semar's torment was the daily bread he partook of. A necessary sustenance that enabled him to endure the unrelenting onslaughts from Barong within his subconscious. Though the battle was one of the spirit, the physical toll manifested with every impact. Death was a concept he knew intimately, yet it remained a notion he refused to entertain, not yet.
As another of Semar's fists prepared to descend, Wisesa caught the old man’s hand and delivered a retaliatory blow. It was a cataclysmic, earth-shaking battle that left the forest animals scattered and the trees uprooted. In the darkness that shrouded them, Alicia and the three other children could only hear the cacophony of two warriors clashing, a symphony of grunts and impacts. At one point, the juveniles were almost crushed by a soaring teak tree! Such was Wisesa's principled stance; he would rather turn the green lushes he lived into a war zone than utter a single "sorry" to a single Westerner.
But in the end, it was Semar who was famed for his saga and achievements throughout a lifetime of magical combat. He cast Wisesa back to the feet of his three children and Alicia, where he resumed his physical torture. Wisesa's face was a mess of bruises, blackened and swollen beyond recognition, and Semar was still not content to add another one.
Did fathers in Lojitengara truly resort to such savagery when disciplining their children? The girl's conscience ached at the thought. Alicia too began to feel the weight of regret, as she realised that what she was witnessing was not only wrong, but also completely outside the realm of the ordinary.
Determined to put an end to the violence, Alicia stepped forward to intervene. But before she could do so, she was met with the blockade of Semar's other children.
"Alicia, let Father settle his things with Wisesa," Petruk pleaded.
"Settle things? That's more like killing him!" Alicia Crimsonmane exclaimed with growing concern.
Despite the efforts of the three siblings, Alicia broke through their blockade. They refused to yield, with Gareng gripping her right hand. "You're mistaken, Alicia," he said calmly. "Semar won't kill him. Just have patience."
"Gareng, what are you doing? Let go!"
Petruk grabbed her from behind, while Bagong stood in her way. They believed they acted in her best interest, but the more they restrained her, the more agitated she became. The thought of Wisesa incurring further harm became an intolerable yoke. She desperately yanked her left hand from the encumbering bandage, seized Orb, and unleashed Arcane energies upon all three!
No lives were lost in this petty dispute. Alicia managed to escape the clutches of Semar's three children and rushed towards the battling men.
Wisesa lay sprawled on the forest floor, crawling, his eyesight obscured by the burst blood vessel in his eyelid. Semar's snorting had not ceased, and it seemed his violent actions were the same.
"Ki Semar! Stop it already!" Alicia intervened between father and son. The source of Kalimasada’s essence was on her right hand. Her left hand drooped, fresh blood rising again under the bandage.
"H-hey...," Wisesa said weakly, "don't play with your left hand, you idiot! That wound's still fresh—"
"No, Wisesa. You shut up!" she snapped, turning her attention to the village headman. "That's enough, Ki Semar. I think you've punished him enough. Can we please just go home now?"
Semar was not convinced. "He hasn't shown any signs of deterrence, Miss. If anything happens to you again—"
"It's my fault!" Alicia interrupted. She turned her head to the battered Wisesa. "I was wrong to ask him first. I was wrong to harp him… It won't happen again. Once the harvest celebration is over, I'll go find another child. Wisesa's not ready yet. It's better to let him struggle on his own."
Semar looked at Alicia's wound, which might reopen. Perhaps her reckless behaviour was just a trivial matter. However, as he saw her intensity in trying to prevent further harm to both of them, Semar began to feel a pang of regret. Slowly, his fist loosened.
The dark wilderness was startled again by Wisesa's coughing laughter. He got up muttering Yawanese—surely a curse in itself. He passed the girl and Semar, then the three foster brothers. He shuffled into his favourite hut and slammed the door hard. Through her eyes, Alicia pleaded with the others to leave the man alone. Again, Wisesa was alone. In the end, he just lay in his own bed, accompanied by a small candle, forgotten…
***
Three days had slipped by since the incident. The tension between Alicia and Wisesa hung heavy in the air like a thick fog. They were strangers once again, their gazes never meeting, their conversations non-existent.
Despite the bruises still darkening his face, Wisesa stubbornly tended to Semar's pigs as if the previous days had never happened. The mud-bathed pigs were indeed the most humane creatures for him to confide in. His battered appearance caused whispers and sideways glances from the villagers, who saw him like a servant abused by his master, whispering "Deserved!" behind his back.
During these times, Alicia had devoted her attention to helping Nyai Kanastren and her students prepare for the harvest celebration. She could often be found in Semar's glass garden too, concocting more leaf-wrapped xixin projectiles or other latest alchemic creations from rare plants with Semar's permission. This to her, perhaps, was the sole corner in Tumaritis with the quiet stillness, a perfect site to find solace.
And three days after the incident as well, Tumaritis and possibly the entire island of Yawa were thrown into a state of jubilation amidst the war and a time of tension. Yawadwipa was celebrating the festival of Uryanwarsa, a period of thanksgiving to the gods for the bounteous harvest, followed by a fortnight of feasting. But the soldiers remained excluded from the festivities, for fear that the Alas Purwo soldiers might use the opportunity to ambush the unguarded rebel villages. Furthermore, the ultimatum deadline was nigh, and if the Duchy of Pulomas failed to yield, Alas Purwo would not hesitate to employ grievous combat tactics that would menace the future generations of Pulomas. Yet, the citizens of Pulomas seemed indifferent to the impending doom. A fortnight of revelry, in their eyes, held greater appeal than the anxiety of awaiting retribution from the capital's wrath.
The woman and children of Semar eagerly anticipated Alicia's participation in the festivities. At last, she finally emerged from the house, dressed in a white kebaya—a traditional dress for Yawanese women, with a colourful bathik cloth underneath. This outfit was a far cry from the everyday clothes that Alicia was used to seeing on the women of Tumaritis. The women, as a sign of respect, had donned themselves in more modest and dignified clothing.
The village was already buzzing with the beautiful melodies of the pasindhen—the female vocalist who provided accompaniment to regional Yawanese events—set against the harmonious backdrop of gamelan. Children perched atop the roofs, showering the Tumaritis village with vibrant confetti of chopped and painted coconut leaves. To Alicia, it was as if this rain of colours mirrored the joyful showering of blossoms at a grand Camelot wedding.
The grown women carried baskets of fruit and vegetables on their heads, while the men, in no way to be outdone, marshalled their might to transport a colossal platform bearing a priest intoning prayers and hills of crops and meats. They marched in a procession to the fields and gardens that served as the harvest's source. []
