The next morning, sunlight streamed through the cracks of the bedroom window, gently brushing the face of the still-sleeping Baskara. He stretched slowly, then sat up while rubbing his eyes with his small hands.
With lazy steps and messy hair, he walked toward the kitchen. His half-open eyes caught sight of his mother, who was preparing breakfast.
"Heyyy… beautiful mommm…" Baskara greeted in a sleepy voice with one eye half-open, winking playfully as if flirting.
Tirta turned around, and laughter burst from her lips upon seeing her son's antics.
"Hahaha! You little flirt!" she teased, lightly tapping his head and pinching his cheek until it turned red.
"Ouch, ouch! That hurts, Mom!" Baskara whined, rubbing his cheek.
But suddenly, in the middle of the teasing, a deep voice came from the living room.
"Ahem… someone seems to be enjoying the morning quite a bit."
They both turned around. Baskara quickly put on a mock-serious face and pointed toward the man who had just appeared from behind the door.
"Well well well… Father! So you do remember the way home? And it turns out you still care about your wife and child…" he said with a teasing tone and mischievous expression.
Teguh, his father, let out a small laugh. "You naughty boy," he said, gently tweaking Baskara's ear.
"Ow ow, Dad! That hurts!" Baskara yelled again, this time dramatically.
Tirta clapped her hands, trying to put an end to the small chaos.
"Alright, alright! Here's your breakfast. Honestly, you two—father and son—just met a few hours ago and already making noise."
She placed plates of nasi uduk, eggs in keluwak seasoning, and slices of spiritual fruit on the dining table.
"What time did you get home, Dad?" asked Baskara, climbing onto the sofa.
"Just now… around five in the morning," Teguh replied as he sat down and removed his slightly dusty leather gloves.
Teguh was a mid-level Semediawan, in his forties, though he still looked like a man in his thirties. His skin was clear, his body firm, and his gaze sharp—like someone accustomed to discipline and secrets. And not without reason—Semediawan had specific ways of slowing aging, maintaining bodily energy, and preserving vitality.
In the past few months, Teguh had been out of town handling matters of the Semediawan extended family—matters that usually involved territory negotiations, guarding spiritual lines, or sometimes… hidden conflicts between martial sects.
But this morning, the house was warm again with his presence. Laughter, jokes, and the aroma of food filled the air, making everything feel normal—even though behind it all, Baskara was hiding a great secret from the previous night.
After breakfast, Baskara began to reveal his true nature—curious and restless. His eyes sparkled with excitement, and as usual, his mind was filled with questions.
"Hehehe… while Dad's home, better ask the expert directly," he mumbled with a sly grin.
"Dad, Dad! I want to ask about Semediawan!" he exclaimed, approaching while holding a leftover juice glass.
Teguh sipped his warm tea calmly, then nodded. "Of course. Ask away."
"What exactly is a Semediawan?"
Teguh put down his cup. "A Semediawan is someone who can harness spiritual energy from nature into their own body. They use various techniques, depending on the path they follow. But… it all starts with one thing: physical strengthening."
"Strengthening the body first?" Baskara asked, now serious.
"Yes. Your body must be strong enough to contain the energy flow. After that comes the stage of opening the nadi—to smooth the energy pathways inside your body. Then comes padet sukma, the process of condensing previously free-flowing spiritual energy. And the deepest stage is jagat jiwa—the union of energy with consciousness and soul."
Teguh raised one finger at a time. "Each stage has four levels: initial, intermediate, advanced, and perfect. Reaching just one can take years."
Baskara fell silent, his face turning serious, even slightly stunned. This explanation went much deeper than anything he'd ever heard—even during the ten years he spent in the womb, not once had a conversation like this reached his ears.
"Hey, why so quiet?" Teguh asked, smiling.
"Eh? Oh yeah, I get it now," Baskara replied quickly, putting on a know-it-all expression.
"Heh, look at you. Just heard it and already acting like an expert," Teguh teased, lightly patting his son's head.
"I'm going to my place now, after I shower," Teguh added, standing from his seat.
"Eh… wait, Dad!"
Teguh turned. "What now?"
"When someone is meditating… can their spiritual energy affect the surroundings?" Baskara asked cautiously, remembering the chaos in his room the night before.
Teguh furrowed his brows, then answered calmly, "Hm… usually not. That energy is subtle—almost undetectable unless intentionally released outward."
Baskara nodded quickly. "Oh… alright," he said shortly, forcing a smile to hide his nervousness.
Teguh looked at him suspiciously for a few seconds but said nothing, then walked away.
Meanwhile, Baskara remained standing still. His eyes glanced toward the stairs to his room, and a small smile crept across his lips.
"So… last night really was strange."
Night had fallen.
Stars scattered across the sky like shimmering beads of light. The air felt cool, and the atmosphere around Baskara's house was calmer than usual. His parents were still at Grandpa's house—discussing matters of the extended family.
This, of course, was a chance Baskara wouldn't let slip.
"Yoshhh! Time to try it outside," he said excitedly, eyes glowing. "Since Mom and Dad aren't here…"
He stepped out quietly, walking toward a small hill at the edge of the family estate. The place was still within the Semediawan family's territory, but far enough to offer some privacy.
Baskara sat cross-legged on a flat rock, surrounded by wild grass swaying gently in the night breeze.
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and began to focus. In the stillness of the night, he could sense the presence of spiritual energy around him—moving softly like a gentle gust of wind. The strange occurrence from last night returned, but this time it was much more controlled. No falling objects, no tremors. Just a breeze slowly swirling around his body.
Now, with his father's explanation of the stages of meditation, Baskara had a clearer idea of where to start. All this time, since the age of five, he had been training his body on his own—guided by books and simple physical routines. He was also used to consuming spiritual food made by his mother, which unknowingly strengthened his body from within.
His initial goal was simple—just not to get sick easily. But it turned out Baskara's body was extraordinary. At the age of seven, his physical endurance matched that of a ten-year-old, maybe even more. He passed the first spiritual realm with ease and had now reached the stage of opening his spiritual channels.
"Alright… let's smoothen this energy flow," he murmured, gently regulating his breath and focusing on the pathways of his nadis.
The spiritual energy began to flow, coursing through his body's energy channels like tiny rivers seeking their delta. Baskara tried to widen those pathways, imagining each nadi like a pipe that needed to be expanded so energy could move faster and more freely.
His body started to feel warm… then refreshed… then light, as if all burdens had been lifted. Even his breath felt more open than before.
"Woaah… my body feels so fresh. So light and… clear," he whispered as he opened his eyes slightly. "Is this what they call… the minor realm?"
He wasn't entirely sure. There were no references explaining what it felt like to ascend through spiritual realms—minor or major. He only knew one thing: his body was responding much faster than it should.
"Alright then… let's keep going."
A small smile curled on his lips. Though he didn't fully understand everything, his instincts and natural intelligence kept pushing him past the limits.
---
The next morning, the atmosphere at Baskara's house felt more serious than usual. In the main room, his parents called him to sit with them.
"Baskara," said Teguh, his father, looking at him calmly. "Tomorrow, there's a family gathering at the main hall. You'll come with us."
Baskara nodded casually. "Sure, Dad. I'll come."
Teguh glanced briefly at his wife before turning back to Baskara. "And one more thing… You're old enough now to start your basic education. So, let me ask—do you want to go to a regular school? Or a mixed one that also teaches martial arts?"
The question made Baskara pause. In today's era, regular schools still existed, especially for ordinary people who didn't pursue the spiritual path—either because they had no potential, or no interest.
"Hmm…" Baskara scratched his head unnecessarily. "Maybe just regular school, I guess?"
Teguh raised an eyebrow, a little surprised. "But haven't you been asking a lot about meditation and techniques? I thought you were interested."
Baskara grinned, hands behind his head. "Ehehe, I was just curious. Not serious…"
In truth, Baskara purposely chose regular school. He didn't want to stand out too much, let alone let people know he was different from other kids. He wanted to live a normal life—for now, at least.
Besides, he chose to study at a school owned by the extended family—located right within the Semediawan family complex. Not only was it close to home, but it also meant he could see his parents more often. Especially his father, who often traveled on family duties.
"Alright," said Teguh, nodding. "In that case, let's prepare tomorrow morning."
"Hah… and here I thought you and Mom had no plans to go anywhere…" Tirta teased gently, her hand reaching out to caress Baskara's head lovingly.
"You're such a rascal…" she added with a warm gaze.
Baskara chuckled softly, hiding something far bigger than just a school decision—the secret of his own meditation practice, still unknown to his parents.
---
The next morning, in front of a grand gate made of steel with colorful Nusantara-style carvings, two adult men stood firmly. They wore black formal suits distinctive to the Semediawan family and were welcoming arriving guests while checking invitation cards one by one.
When they saw the three new arrivals—Teguh, Tirta, and Baskara—the two guards immediately bowed respectfully.
"Good morning, Sir, Ma'am, and Young Master," they greeted in unison.
"Morning," Teguh replied casually. "How's the attendance so far?"
"About half of the guests have arrived, Sir," one of the guards responded.
"Alright, then we'll head in."
"Please, Sir."
As the three of them entered the main hall, the atmosphere turned lively. The spacious room was decorated in elegant colors, still preserving a warm sense of family. The sound of conversations and greetings filled the air.
"Oii, Teguh!" a voice suddenly called from the side.
Teguh turned. "Eh, Brother Roni! What's up?"
Though they weren't actual siblings, calling older folks "Brother" or "Sister" had long been part of their tradition.
"Come here for a drink. Let's talk about that business matter from yesterday. I've got something important to tell you."
"Alright, alright." Teguh turned to his wife. "Dear, I'll go over there first. You two find a seat."
"Okay," Tirta replied gently, taking Baskara's hand.
After walking around for a bit, Tirta and Baskara found an empty seat in a cozy corner of the room. Just as they sat down, two small children approached—a cheerful little girl with neatly braided hair, and a slightly shy boy.
"Hi, Auntie!" the girl greeted brightly.
"Oh, hi Dinda, Fajar!" Tirta smiled warmly. "Where's your mom?"