Their first steps past the gates of the capital felt like stepping into an entirely different world.
It wasn't only the towering stone walls rising behind and around them.
It was the sound.
A sudden wave of noise crashed into their ears without mercy.Merchants shouted over one another, voices stacking and colliding in every gap of silence.Fine batik from the coastal ports.Clay jars from the southern villages.Royal granary rice,"freshly delivered this morning!"
The marketplace pulsed with life so loud it was almost overwhelming, especially for ears accustomed to mountain quiet.
The city's scent was no less chaotic.
Sesame oil sizzling against hot iron.Charcoal smoke and skewered meat.The sharp tang of salted fish.Damp earth churned by countless footsteps.
All of it blended into an unfamiliar haze, sometimes nauseating, sometimes tempting.So different from the scent of firewood and farmland that had filled Anindya, Danu, and Jaka's lives for the past month.Scents Bandung had known his entire life.
After only a few steps inside the capital, Bandung stopped.
His eyes widened.His chest rose and fell, as if, for a moment, he'd forgotten how to breathe.
"…By the gods," he murmured."It's… so crowded."
He looked left. Right. Upward at towers, banners, endless streams of people.For the first time since leaving his village, Bandung realized just how small he was.
"I've never seen this many people before," he said, half in disbelief."Arga… look at... "
The name slipped out before he could stop himself.
Bandung's voice died in his throat.
The ghost of his brother's presence felt heavier than the mountain he'd left behind.
Jaka noticed all of that, but said nothing.
Their steps were cut short when a gate guard in gleaming armor raised his hand sharply, blocking their path.
"Stop," the guard ordered, eyes sweeping them from head to toe, lingering on Bandung's broad frame."Present your travel permits or documents of origin."
Bandung stiffened.
He turned to Anindya, Jaka, and Danu, only to find the same pale uncertainty mirrored back at him.
"In our village…" Bandung began carefully, forcing his voice steady,"…we don't have documents like that, sir."
The guard's eyes narrowed.
"No papers? At a time like this?"He gestured subtly to the two soldiers behind him, hands already resting on their kris.
"Spies, then? You'll come with us. And don't try anything clever, boy."
Bandung's heart slammed.
They had barely entered the capital, and already prison, or worse, loomed.
Anindya almost protested, but Jaka caught her arm.He knew it would only make things worse.
Just as the guards moved to seize them, a man in a neater, slimmer uniform approached.An aide, perhaps. Intelligence. Something in between.
He whispered into the guard's ear, then disappeared into the crowd.
The guard's eyes widened briefly.
Annoyance flickered across his face.
"Tch. Lucky bastard," he muttered.He jerked his thumb northward."Don't let me catch you again causing any trouble. If you're here to enlist, take the main road. Follow it until you reach the banyan tree, then turn right. Military office."
They nodded stiffly.
None of them knew who had intervened.Or why.
Bandung stood still for several seconds after the guard left, watching people pass with scrolls and papers in hand.
Back home, he was dependable.Here, beneath towering walls, he felt like a lost child.
"What now…?" he whispered, voice nearly swallowed by the city.
"I didn't even think about reading," he admitted, rubbing his face."I thought strength would be enough. Arga could read… not me."
"And he's not here," Danu said quietly.
Jaka clapped Bandung's shoulder."It's fine. We'll help. It's just reading."
Danu grabbed Jaka's arm."Jak, Jaka… you do remember where we are, right?"
Jaka followed Danu's finger to the wooden sign hanging above the shop. He froze. This wasn't 'normal.' The carvings weren't the letters he knew.
The lines were sometimes straight, sometimes curved, sharp and layered like dancing symbols.
Anindya stared."That's… Pallava script. I've seen it in textbooks, but never learned how to read it."
Danu squinted, staring at the board longer.
He felt a strange sensation, and then, something shifted.
The black strokes began to move in his vision.
They melted and swirled.
A wave of heat spread from his eyes to his temples, making him dizzy, like the head-rush of waking up too fast.
"Wait... wait…" he muttered, rubbing his eyes.
Then...
The alien script was now crystal clear.
"Pottery Shop of Ki Suta."
"What?!"Danu stumbled back., his heart thumping. "Hey... Jaka, Anin... Look!"
Anin looked again, trying to see what Danu saw. "What is it, Danu?... Oh my god!"
Jaka's eyes went wide, his breath hitching. "It's happening again?"
Around them, every sign changed.
Rice Porridge Stall.Road to the Weavers' Market.Ong Tjia Pepper Warehouse.
The whole city, or their eyes, somehow... had adapted.
Bandung looked at the board, then at his three friends, utterly confused. "I still don't understand any of it," he admitted honestly. "So... can you read it or not?"
"Yeah," Jaka said quickly."This way."
They moved on.
As they walked, the three friends whispered urgently. "It's just like before," Anin hissed. "Like when we suddenly understood Arga's language."
"Is it our eyes?" Danu asked, trying to calm his breathing. "Have our eyes been changed?"
Jaka put a finger to his lips. "Whatever it is, don't talk about it. We don't want to look suspicious. Maybe... maybe we were sent here for a reason."
They passed through the textile market, where colorful lurik and batik fabrics swayed in the wind like vibrant curtains. A massive banyan tree stood at the crossroads, its hanging roots draping down like a veil. Finally, they reached a large wooden building. The smell of sweat and rusted iron wafted from within.
In front of it stood a sign:
Recruitment Hall of Bhumi Mataram.
Bandung swallowed hard and took a deep breath.
His hands trembled with a mixture of pride, excitement, and fear.
Inside, the line was already long.
Farmers, fishermen, and village youths were giving their names and receiving cloth bands for their arms, the mark of a royal trainee.
Their faces were full of hope.
The hope of changing their destinies.
"That's it?" Danu whispered. "That easy?"
The soldier behind the desk looked up. "To be a regular soldier, yes. Give your name and origin." He then pointed to a large board on the wall. "If you want more... choose your rank in the Arena."
"Arena?" Anindya and Bandung echoed.
"Each rank has its opponent," the soldier said flatly. "The higher the rank, the less 'human' the opponent becomes."
Bandung stared intensely at the board. He ignored Danu, who was trying to translate the list for him.
His eyes were fixed on the red text at the very top: "Arka Rank."
Below it was a large column left blank, with no description, only the symbol of an eye that seemed to stare back at him.
In fact, the top three ranks were all empty of descriptions.
No mention of what creatures he would face or what risks awaited.
That emptiness felt more threatening than the name of any beast listed below.
Bandung clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white.
If he couldn't conquer words and script, he would conquer whatever waited for him in that arena.
"Excuse me, sir. I choose the rank just below that one."
Danu went silent, staring at Bandung in disbelief.
The soldier stopped writing.
The scratch of his quill ceased.
He slowly looked up, measuring Bandung from his boots to his eyes.
The other recruits behind them fell silent, holding their breath.
An old farmer beside Bandung stepped back as if he were looking at a dead man.
"Madya Agung?" the soldier asked, ensuring he hadn't misheard.
His voice was heavier now, almost cautionary.
"Yes," Bandung replied, ignoring Jaka and Danu's attempts to pull him back.
His voice echoed in the suddenly quiet room.
"I didn't come here to be an ordinary soldier. I want to be a knight. I want to be the one who protects this kingdom and my village."
The soldier scribbled Bandung's name with harsh, quick strokes, as if making sure he couldn't take it back.
He let out a low, mocking chuckle.
"Don't talk big before you prove it, lad. This afternoon... prepare yourself in the Arena."
The moment the words "this afternoon" were uttered, a massive thud, like a titan striking the earth, shook the floor from beneath the building.
Bandung jolted, but when he looked around, everyone else was frozen like statues. Time had stopped.
In that chilling silence, a low growl followed by a shrill, piercing whisper crawled into his ear.
"A soul... at laaaast... ahahahaha..."
A second later, everything snapped back to normal.
Bandung's eyes bulged.
Cold sweat began to bead on his forehead.
He couldn't believe what he had just seen, or heard.
His knees felt weak, but he forced himself to stand tall.
It's just a hallucination. My mind is playing tricks on me, he thought, trying to quell the storm in his chest.
He turned to his three friends, who were pale with shock at his reckless decision.
"Don't worry," he said, sounding more like he was trying to convince himself than them. "I can do this."