Dawn painted the eastern sky in bruised lavender. The palace courtyard was silent but tense. Three horses stood prepared, their breath forming puffs of mist in the cool air. Mine was the smallest. Fitting, I thought, since I was still the one with the least experience—especially when it came to riding into danger.
Behind me, Arya tightened the straps of his satchel. Jiteng double-checked the provisions he had loaded onto his horse the night before.
And I?
I stood still, watching the sky, still listening—hoping—for one last echo of Bara's voice. But all I could hear was my own heartbeat.
"Lady Kirana," Arya said, approaching. "We ride when you are ready."
I gave him a small nod. "Then we ride now."
We departed the palace gates as the first sunbeam touched the highest tower. The guards bowed as we passed. Somewhere inside, Princess Dyah watched from the window. And though I could not see her, I felt her silent blessing.
The path led us eastward, through hills of wild grass and bamboo groves that swayed with ancient whispers. The journey was quiet, save for the crunch of hooves on soil and the occasional call of distant birds.
Yet inside me, noise erupted.
Why did the keris choose me?What if I fail them all?What if Bara died for nothing?
I clenched the reins tighter. I would not allow myself to fall—not now.
By the second day, the terrain grew more unforgiving. Sharp rocks jutted from the earth, and fog descended like a curtain. Jiteng rode closer to me.
"This part of the map," he said, showing me the section where the red symbol had blinked, "matches the hills of Gunung Remayu. They say the wind here speaks."
I raised an eyebrow. "What does it say?"
Arya answered from behind us. "It says: don't trust the fog."
I didn't ask what that meant. I had a feeling I would find out soon enough.
By nightfall, we made camp near a shallow river. Arya set traps. Jiteng boiled rice and dried meat over a small fire. I sat apart from them, holding the keris, watching the embers.
And then... I heard it.
Whispers. Faint. Echoes not from outside—but inside the keris itself.
My breath hitched.
"Kirana..."
I nearly dropped the weapon. The voice. It was his.
"Bara?" I whispered.
But no answer came.
Jiteng noticed my pale face and rushed over. "What happened?"
"Nothing," I said, forcing a smile. "Just the wind."
But I knew it wasn't.
The keris was waking.And so was something else.
Something that had been waiting.
Waiting for me.