The crowing of a rooster woke Arga earlier than usual.
He slowly opened his eyes. Morning sunlight slipped through his bedroom window, but his gaze went straight to the desk beside his bed.
The ancient compass was still there.
Its needle turned slowly.
Every now and then, it gave off a soft green light.
Arga rubbed his eyes.
“So... last night wasn't a dream.”
He carefully picked up the compass. The moment his palm touched the cold metal, the sound of flapping wings came from the window.
“You're up early.”
The small bird with blue-green feathers landed on the windowsill, tilting its head.
Arga nearly dropped the compass.
“You... you can really talk?”
The bird let out a long sigh.
“I told you that last night.”
“I thought I was dreaming.”
“A lot of people wish all of this were only a dream.”
The bird hopped onto the desk.
“My name is Chirp.”
“I'm Arga.”
“I know.”
“How do you know?”
“We know everyone the compass chooses.”
Arga stared at the compass in his hand.
“What exactly is this thing?”
Chirp slowly spread its wings.
“Mahesa's Compass.”
“This compass doesn't point north.”
“Then what does it point to?”
“It points toward mysteries.”
Arga fell silent.
The longer this went on, the stranger everything felt.
After breakfast, Arga said goodbye to his mother.
“Where are you off to today?” she asked.
“The village library.”
His mother smiled.
“Don't forget to come home before sunset.”
Arga nodded.
He slipped the compass into his shoulder bag. Chirp quietly followed from above the treetops.
Waringin Village Library wasn't very big.
The building was made of old wood, with shelves packed full of history books, atlases, and collections of folktales.
In one corner of the room, a girl sat with several books open at once.
Her hair was braided into two pigtails.
She wore round glasses.
A pencil was tucked behind her ear.
Arga glanced at the title of the book she was reading.
The Legends of Nusantara's Ancient Trees.
“Hmm...”
The girl raised her head.
“Can I help you?”
“I was just curious.”
“Curious about what?”
“Why are you reading such a thick book during vacation?”
The girl gave a small smile.
“Because mysteries are more interesting than phone games.”
Arga laughed.
“I'm Arga.”
“Sinta.”
They shook hands.
“What are you looking for?”
“I'm looking for information about Grandpa Mahesa.”
Sinta immediately turned to him.
“That explorer?”
“You know about him?”
“A little.”
“My father once told me that Mahesa collected legends from all over Indonesia.”
Before Arga could answer...
The compass inside his bag suddenly vibrated.
At the same time, the small leaf-shaped pendant Sinta wore began to glow green.
They stared at each other.
“Did you see that?” Arga asked.
Sinta slowly nodded.
“This necklace has never glowed before.”
Perched on a bookshelf, Chirp whispered softly.
“Finally, you've met.”
Arga turned around.
Sinta turned too.
“That bird...”
“...just talked?” Sinta whispered.
Chirp nodded casually.
“Good.”
“You didn't faint.”
Near noon, they walked toward a small forest on the edge of the village.
The closer they came to the ancient banyan tree, the more the atmosphere changed.
The air felt colder.
The wind stopped blowing.
Even the birds fell silent.
“This is so strange,” Sinta murmured.
Chirp flew low.
“The forest is quiet.”
“What do you mean?”
“The forest usually sings.”
“But now...”
“...it's afraid.”
They arrived in front of a gigantic banyan tree.
Its trunk was so large that it would take six adults to wrap their arms around it.
Ancient roots stretched out like giant snakes.
But something was different.
Its leaves were beginning to turn yellow.
Several branches looked dried out.
Even though it wasn't the dry season yet.
Sinta pulled out her notebook.
“This isn't normal.”
Arga walked around the trunk.
Then he stopped.
“Sin!”
“What?”
“Look at this.”
On the damp ground were the marks of enormous footprints.
They were nearly twice the size of an adult's foot.
But they didn't resemble human footprints.
Each print had only three long toes.
“What kind of creature has feet like these?” Sinta whispered.
Before anyone could answer...
Arga's compass vibrated again.
Its needle pointed straight at the tree trunk.
There, a symbol had been carved into the bark.
It was a circle with seven lines radiating outward.
Exactly the same as the emblem on the back of the compass.
Chirp slowly nodded.
“That's the emblem of the Legend Keepers.”
“Who made it?” Arga asked.
“Not humans.”
Suddenly...
A cold breeze stirred.
A woman in a white dress emerged from behind a thin veil of mist.
Her long hair hung down past her shoulders.
But there was nothing frightening about her face.
Her eyes were filled with sorrow instead.
She gently stroked the trunk of the banyan tree.
A single drop of light fell from her eye like dew.
Arga gathered his courage and stepped forward.
“Wait!”
The woman turned.
For a moment, their eyes met.
Then her body transformed into dozens of fireflies that flew into the sky.
The mist vanished.
Silence returned.
Where the figure had stood, an emerald-green leaf remained, glowing softly.
Sinta slowly picked it up.
The leaf felt warm.
“This isn't an ordinary leaf.”
Chirp gazed at the sky.
“It belongs to the Banyan Guardian.”
“So... that woman wasn't an evil ghost?” Arga asked.
Chirp shook its head.
“Not every legend you hear is true.”
“Sometimes people only remember the parts that scare them.”
Before Arga could ask another question, the sound of a branch snapping came from behind the bushes.
Crack...
They turned at the same time.
But there was no one there.
Far beyond the trees, a figure in a black cloak stood perfectly still.
A wooden mask covered its face.
In its hand, it clutched a lantern with a purple flame.
It stared at Arga and Sinta without saying a word.
Then it slowly turned around.
And vanished into the mist.
Meanwhile, the compass in Arga's hand began spinning again.
This time, it spun faster than ever.
Chirp flapped its wings uneasily.
“He's found you.”
“Who?” Arga asked.
The little bird gazed at the forest, which had begun to darken even though the sun was still high.
“The enemy we've feared all this time.”
“And your adventure... has just begun.”