After leaving Arwana Valley, Brajamusti, Sinta, Wira Gantang, and Grandpa Paijo headed toward a small village to the east.
The journey felt more peaceful after what had happened in the valley.
But Brajamusti was still thinking about the person who had managed to escape.
"Do you think he'll come back?" Brajamusti asked.
Wira nodded.
"He'll definitely come back. But this time, he might not be alone."
By late afternoon, they arrived at a village.
The villagers looked busy preparing for a small festival. Lanterns hung along the streets, and food vendors lined the various corners.
For the first time in a while, Brajamusti was able to enjoy the peaceful atmosphere.
Sinta bought two pastries.
"Here."
She handed one to Brajamusti.
Brajamusti smiled.
"Thank you."
They walked side by side, enjoying the crowds.
Without realizing it, Brajamusti began to feel comfortable being near Sinta.
But that happiness didn't last long.
Suddenly, a child ran past them and dropped a small pouch.
Brajamusti picked it up.
"Hey, is this yours?"
The child immediately snatched it and ran.
Sinta watched the child.
"That's strange."
"What is?"
"That child isn't from this village."
Brajamusti turned around.
Sure enough, the child's clothes were different from those of the locals.
Brajamusti immediately chased after the child.
The child darted into a narrow alley.
By the time Brajamusti arrived, the child was gone.
All that remained was a black dragon emblem on the ground.
Brajamusti picked it up.
Sinta arrived a few moments later.
"A trap?"
"Maybe."
Suddenly, laughter rang out from the rooftop.
A man jumped down.
"Impressive. You're still alert enough."
Brajamusti immediately readied himself.
The man wasn't the Black Dragon leader they knew.
He carried only a short sword.
"I've come with a message."
"A message from whom?" Brajamusti asked.
The man stared at the flute at his waist.
"From someone who wants to meet you."
"Who?"
"Come to Sagara City."
Brajamusti frowned.
"Why should I go?"
The man smiled.
"Because there, you'll find answers about the origins of your flute."
Sinta stepped forward.
"We don't just take your word for it."
The man threw a small scroll toward Brajamusti.
Then he turned and leaped onto the rooftop.
Brajamusti opened the scroll.
There was only one sentence.
"Grandpa Paijo isn't the only person who knows your secrets."
Brajamusti looked at Grandpa Paijo, who had just arrived.
The old man's face grew tense.
"Don't go to Sagara City," he said.
Brajamusti was startled.
"Why?"
Grandpa Paijo remained silent for quite some time.
"Because there's someone there who's been waiting for you for a long time."
"Who?"
Grandpa Paijo only sighed.
"I'm not ready to tell you."
Brajamusti looked at Sinta.
Sinta looked just as curious.
The night grew late.
In the distance, the festival bells rang.
But for Brajamusti, one question kept circling through his mind.
Who was he, really?
And why did so many people know about the Dragon Flute?
The next morning, Brajamusti stood at a crossroads.
To the left was the road to Sagara City.
To the right was the road north.
Sinta stood beside him.
"Well?"
Brajamusti gripped his flute.
"We're going to Sagara City."
Sinta smiled.
"All right."
And so they took the road toward the city.
Unbeknownst to them, the journey would bring them ever closer to the secrets of the past that Grandpa Paijo had kept hidden all this time.