I. Cold Dawn and Unveiled Mist
The remnants of the night’s mist in the Forbidden Teak Wilderness slowly evaporated as the first rays of sunlight pierced through the canopy of the teak trees. Morning dew dripping from the tips of the leaves splashed onto Arya’s face, causing him to bolt awake with a sharp gasp.
He sat bolt upright, his heart pounding against his ribs. His hand instinctively shot up to feel the smudged cotton headband wrapped around his head—it was still secure, concealing his birthmark. Arya scanned his surroundings with heightened vigilance. The pitch-black gloom of the night before had given way to the serene ambiance of an early morning forest. The presence of that terrifying, red-eyed shadowy creature had vanished without a trace, leaving behind only the chirping of sparrows and the rustle of a gentle breeze swaying the foliage.
"Has the night dragon left, Sakka?" Arya asked in a hushed whisper, shuffling closer to Sakka Geni, who had been awake for a while, sitting cross-legged as he wiped the blade of his sword with a dry rag.
Sakka Geni didn't even bother to look up. "There is no dragon, Arya. Just your wildly overactive imagination after a whole day of walking. Now go wash your face in the stream to the east. We need to hit the trail before the sun gets too high."
"But Sakka, I swear I heard a voice whispering! It sounded like a hungry gust of cold wind," Arya insisted, hopping on one foot to stretch his stiff muscles. "Do you think this forest has ears? And if it has ears, does it also have a nose to smell Krisna's boiled cassava?"
"Arya, if you don't shut your mouth on the count of three, I will use Fire Prana to sew it shut," Sakka threatened in a completely flat voice that practically vibrated with soul-deep exhaustion.
Over in another corner, Bayu Bajra was stretching gracefully atop a low-hanging teak branch, his green paper fan tucked casually into his sash. "Oh, let him ask questions, Sakka. Kids are supposed to be curious. But Arya, if you're heading to the stream, do pick a few fragrant wildflowers for me, will you? Who knows, we might run into another convoy of merchant ladies today."
Krisna Tara, having just finished clearing away the remains of their campfire, approached with his colossal bundle clacking rhythmically as the river stones inside jostled together. "The stream is just behind that small ridge, Arya. Be careful—the mud near the water is very slippery."
Arya nodded enthusiastically. "Don't worry, Krisna! I'm the number one tree-climber and fence-jumper in the entire palace!"
The boy bolted off into the wet underbrush, leaving the three warriors to slowly pack up the rest of their camp. However, their quiet morning adventure was not destined to stay peaceful for long.
II. Ambush Behind the Teak Bushes
Barely a hundred paces from their campsite, right beside a crystal-clear stream, Arya was kneeling on a large river stone. He had just splashed cold water onto his face when a sudden silver blur whipped past his eyes.
THWACK!
A small throwing knife embedded itself deep into the trunk of a teak tree right next to Arya’s head, missing his ear by mere centimeters. Cut teak leaves fluttered down, floating gently on the surface of the water.
Arya froze. His eyes dilated in shock as he stared at the knife blade still vibrating in the tree trunk.
"Hey, Kid! Don't move a muscle if you still care about keeping your head attached!"
A raspy, coarse voice echoed from behind the dense wild bushes. Three adult men stepped out into the open. They were burly, clad in filthy leather armor covered in battle scars. Their pockmarked, fierce faces radiated an unmistakable aura of hostility.
The man in the center—the largest of the three, bearing a tiger claw scar across his left cheek—brandished a massive machete that gleamed dangerously under the morning sun. This was Suro Genthong, the leader of a local bounty hunter crew operating near Arcapura's border.
"W-Who are you?" Arya squeaked out, his voice dropping an octave. For the first time in his life, he was facing men who looked at him with genuine intent to kill. An icy chill crept up from his bare soles straight into his chest.
"Us? We're just a few poor bastards who got real lucky today," Suro Genthong cackled—a guttural sound that grated on Arya's ears. "Your clever little disguise doesn't hide how naive you are, boy. Did you really think we wouldn't notice you pulling out a coin of pure gold stamped with the Arcapura sun back at the South Gate yesterday?"
Arya gasped. The incident with the sweet dawet vendor flashed through his mind.
"Only royal family members or high-ranking court officials carry gold like that," Suro Genthong continued, taking a few deliberate steps forward while casually brandishing his heavy blade. "A village boy in a ratty lurik tunic wouldn't have a coin like that unless he was... palace scum fleeing with stolen royal treasure, or a pampered little prince playing dress-up."
"I... I'm not a prince!" Arya panicked, trying to scramble backward, but his heel struck a slick river stone.
"Of course you're not a prince anymore," sneered a gaunt, scrawny bandit standing beside Suro Genthong, twirling a coiled lasso in his hand. "Right now, you're a walking sack of gold coins to us. Nab the kid!"
The scrawny bandit whipped the lasso through the air, sending the loop flying toward Arya's neck. Terrified, Arya squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the bite of the rope that would strip away his freedom.
The rope never reached him.
WHAM—BOOM!
A river stone the size of a coconut shot over the ridge at terrifying speed, slamming directly into the scrawny bandit's chest with crushing force. The man was blasted back several yards, collapsing unconscious into the muddy riverbed.
"Who's there?!" Suro Genthong roared, instantly dropping into a battle stance and raising his machete.
III. Three Unleashed Elements
"I told you, Sakka, my bets are never wrong," Bayu Bajra's breezy voice drifted down from the sandy ridge above the stream. He slid down the slope with such effortless grace it looked as though he were gliding on humid air. "Leave the kid alone for five minutes, and he's already surrounded by three ugly old men."
"And I told you, Bayu, shut your useless mouth!"
Sakka Geni leaped down from behind the bushes, landing heavily right in front of Arya, who was still cowering on the rock. Sakka's right hand tightly gripped the hilt of his cowhide-bound sword, while his left fist slowly clenched, radiating a searing heat that boiled the morning dew into wisps of white steam.
Behind them, Krisna Tara marched forward at a slow, unshakeable pace, setting his massive stone bundle onto the dirt with a thundering thud.
"Arya, are you all right?" Krisna asked in his signature calm tone, as if being ambushed by armed bandits was nothing more than a routine inconvenience.
"Krisna! That throw was amazing!" Arya squealed, his terror instantly evaporating into wild admiration the second his companions appeared. "Did you learn that by practicing with rotten mangoes back at the academy?"
"You insolent brats! What academy are you punk kids from to dare stand in Suro Genthong's way?!" the bandit leader screamed, his face flushed crimson with rage.
"We are the absolute worst problem you're going to face today, Old Man," Bayu Bajra replied, snapping his green paper fan open with a sharp, crisp clack.
"Kill them!" Suro Genthong ordered.
His remaining henchman—a muscular man with a snake tattoo creeping up his arm—lunged forward, thrusting an iron spear straight toward Sakka Geni's chest.
Sakka Geni smirked. A fiery blaze of Fire Prana flared in his eyes. With a lightning-fast motion, he drew his sword. The pitch-black iron blade of the ancient weapon instantly ignited in a roaring flame of reddish-orange fire, crackling menacingly in the morning air.
CLANG!
Sakka parried the spear strike with his flaming blade. The intense heat instantly traveled from Sakka's blade down the enemy's iron shaft. The tattooed bandit shrieked as his hands blistered from the spear shaft, which had turned white-hot in a split second.
"Aaargh! My hands!" the man howled, dropping the melting weapon onto the mud.
Before he could retreat, Sakka Geni delivered a spinning kick infused with Fire Prana straight to the bandit's chest.
BOOM!
The tattooed man was sent flying backward into the dense teak brush, his leather armor singed by the lingering sparks of Sakka's flames.
Seeing his men go down so easily, Suro Genthong redirected his fury toward Arya. With a guttural roar, he leaped into the air, bringing his colossal machete down in a vicious overhead strike aimed straight for the boy's head.
"Die, Arcapura brat!"
"Arya, get your head down!" Bayu Bajra yelled.
Instead of ducking properly, Arya scrambled to grab the throwing knife still embedded in the teak tree nearby, intending to use it to block the blow. That clumsy maneuver caused him to lose his footing on the slick stone, slipping sideways into the shallow river stream.
SPLASH!
Falling into the water accidentally saved his life. Suro Genthong's heavy blade cleaved through the bare river stone with devastating force, sending sparks flying and fracturing the rock with a loud crack.
Before Suro Genthong could yank his blade free from the cracked stone, Bayu Bajra was already upon him. Moving as light as a breeze, Bayu flicked his green paper fan straight at the bandit leader's face.
WIND PRANA STYLE: LEAF-CUTTING GALE!
A sharp, vertical updraft burst from Bayu's fan, catching Suro Genthong right under the chin and lifting his massive frame into the air. While the bandit leader was airborne, Bayu blurred forward with blinding speed using his Silken Wind Step, striking three rapid-fire blows with his folded fan against the pressure points on Suro Genthong's shoulders and neck.
"D-Damn... wind..." Suro Genthong choked out before his bulky body crashed onto the sandy riverbank, his eyes rolling back as he went stone-cold unconscious.
The entire battle was over in under two minutes. Three seasoned bounty hunters lay completely incapacitated, dismantled by the seamless combination of Fire, Wind, and Earth Prana from the three academy troublemakers.
IV. Reality Beyond Palace Walls
Silence settled over the riverbank once more, save for Sakka Geni's heavy breathing and the gentle bubbling of the stream.
Arya slowly pulled himself up from the shallow water. His coarse lurik clothes were soaked through and caked in brown mud. He stared at the three unconscious bounty hunters sprawled on the ground, his round eyes no longer sparkling with excitement or naive curiosity.
Beneath his feet, a thin trail of fresh blood drifted slowly from the blistered wound on the tattooed man's hand, swirling into the clear river water.
Arya trembled. A shudder ran through his small frame—not from the chill of the morning stream, but from the stark realization of how terrifying spiritual power could be when used to inflict violence and destruction. Back at the palace, sword drills with Commander Wiradana had always involved blunted wooden swords, ending with warm laughter and sweet honey water. Out here, swords were wrapped in metal-melting fire, and men staked their lives over a coin bearing a royal seal.
"Are... are they dead?" Arya asked, his voice barely audible over the rustling forest leaves.
Sakka Geni sheathed his ancient sword with a solid click. The flames enveloping the blade instantly extinguished. He looked at Arya, his expression softening just a fraction as he realized the young prince had just received his very first lesson in the brutality of the outside world.
"They're not dead, Arya," Sakka said, stepping over and extending a hand to haul Arya out of the shallow water. "Just knocked out. But if we hadn't made it in time, your head would be sitting several feet away from your body right now."
Sakka gripped Arya's shoulders tightly, forcing the boy to look directly into his sharp, stern eyes. "Listen to me carefully, Arya. This isn't a game of chasing frogs in your palace lotus pond. That gold coin you pulled out yesterday put a target on your back for every bounty hunter in this territory. Starting today, every stranger we meet on the trail could be a killer coming for your life."
Arya dropped his head in silence. Sakka's harsh words didn't trigger any absurd questions this time; instead, they settled like an icy weight upon his young shoulders. He realized the single most crucial truth: his journey to Mount Kelud wasn't just a fun exile—it was a fight for survival.
"Hey, Sakka, don't go scaring the kid half to death," Bayu Bajra interjected, casually brushing dust off his green robes with forced nonchalance. "He's already soaked like a duckling that fell into a water barrel. Besides, we wiped the floor with them pretty easily, didn't we?"
Krisna Tara approached with his heavy bundle, pulling out a dry cloth to hand to Arya so he could dry his messy hair. "We need to avoid the main royal highway from here on out, Sakka. We should stick to the wilderness trails so no other scouts recognize Arya."
Sakka Geni nodded in agreement. He looked down the winding path stretching out ahead—a trail leading deeper into the quiet, mist-shrouded depths of the Forbidden Teak Wilderness.
"Clean yourself up, Arya," Sakka said softly, turning to lead the way back toward the forest tree line. "Our real journey has only just begun."
Arya rubbed his hair dry with Krisna's cloth, then glanced down at the shattered river stone sliced open by Suro Genthong's machete. The fear coiled in his chest slowly settled, replaced by a new, unfamiliar resolve. He clenched his small, muddy fists.
He had to get stronger. He had to learn how to survive—not just to save his own skin, but so he wouldn't remain a burden to the three warriors walking ahead of him under the towering canopy of Nusantara's ancient teaks.