The mysterious young man stepped forward cautiously, his eyes never leaving them.
One hand drifted toward the dagger at his waist.
He looked nothing like anyone they had ever seen outside of movies or cultural performances.
His clothing was simple: a faded brown woven cloth wrapped around his torso, and a coarse, age-frayed rope belt holding a small dagger and a pouch made of dried leaves.
His lower garment reached just below his calves, its hem caked with dried mud.
His shoulders were lean and broad, his skin darkened by the sun.
His feet were bare except for sandals made of tree bark.
His eyes widened in shock, as if he had just stumbled upon spirits guarding the forest.
Anindya, Jaka, and Danu froze.
Instinctively, they edged closer together.
They whispered in panic.
"Who is that?"
"You see him too, right?"
"Is he… human?"
"Quiet. Stop talking. He's staring at us."
The young man took another step closer.
His movements were careful, deliberate.
The way he stood carried a quiet alertness that made their chests tighten.
Danu's survival instinct kicked in before his logic could catch up.
He spoke fast.
Too fast.
Words spilled from his mouth in a language neither Jaka nor Anindya had ever heard.
"Kṣamyatam. Vayam na śatruh. Na astraḥ."
(I'm sorry. We are lost. We are not enemies. We are unarmed.)
Anindya stared at him in disbelief and whispered urgently, "What are you saying, Danu?"
But as Danu spoke, a sharp ringing filled Anindya's ears.
And somehow, impossibly, meaning formed in her mind.
Her eyes widened. "Wait… I know what you just said."
Danu blinked. "What? I don't even know what I just said. But… I understood it too."
Jaka frowned, convinced they were losing their minds.
"Enough. Stop messing around."
He stepped forward.
But when he opened his mouth, the words that came out were no longer his own.
"Vayam na janāmah. Atra kutra smaḥ. Sahāyaḥ icchāmaḥ."
(We truly don't know where we are. We need help.)
Jaka froze.
He turned sharply to them.
"What did I just say? Did you understand that?"
"Yes," Danu said.
"Same thing happened to us."
"How is that even possible?"
"I don't know," Anindya said, her voice shaking.
"But I understood everything."
The young man stopped advancing.
His hand lowered from the dagger.
He studied them for a moment, then let out a nervous laugh.
"Bhavataḥ bhāṣā… kiñcit bhinnā…"
A second later, the strange sounds aligned themselves into meaning inside their minds.
"…Your accent is strange," he said cautiously.
"But interesting." He tilted his head, curiosity replacing tension.
"I thought you were forest spirits. I almost drew my dagger. Turns out you're human after all. Though your clothes are… unusual."
Silence hung between them.
Danu forced a nervous grin.
Jaka stayed guarded.
Anindya clasped her own hands, trying to steady her breathing.
The young man glanced them up and down again.
"Your clothing is strange," he repeated.
"But the colors are beautiful. Where do you come from?"
Danu opened his mouth, but Jaka quickly nudged his arm.
"We come from far away," Jaka said carefully.
"From a kingdom on the western edge of this island. We got lost."
The young man's face lit up.
"A kingdom? From the far west? No wonder you don't dress like common folk. I've never met anyone from there before. This forest is vast. Outsiders rarely dare to enter. That's why I was startled when I saw you."
Anindya gathered her courage.
"Excuse me," she asked softly.
"What forest is this? Why are there offerings everywhere?"
"This is Wana Giri," the young man replied.
"People believe many unseen beings dwell here. We bring offerings every week." He set the woven basket gently at the base of a tree.
"It's about balance. We take from the forest, so we give back. Today is my turn to deliver them." He straightened and smiled faintly.
"After this, I need to collect firewood before heading home. Where are you going?"
The three exchanged uneasy glances.
Their stomachs were empty.
Their minds were spinning.
"We can help," Danu said finally.
"But afterward, could you show us the way to the nearest village? We need supplies. We're trying to reach the capital."
The young man considered this, then nodded.
"Alright. My name is Arga. My home is at the edge of that village. If you wish, walk with me."
They introduced themselves and followed Arga deeper into the forest, gathering fallen branches along the way.
The sounds of insects, the whisper of leaves, the scent of damp earth, everything felt too vivid to be a dream.
Anindya scribbled notes into her small notebook whenever she could: the rustling trees, the unfamiliar flowers, the strange silence between sounds.
Danu nearly pulled out his camera more than once, but stopped himself, afraid of drawing attention.
Jaka tried to keep the mood light, asking Arga questions as they walked.
From him, they learned the village was under the protection of a great kingdom: The Kingdom of Mataram.
Its capital, Bhumi Mataram, lay far to the northwest.
"Why do people avoid this forest?" Anindya asked.
Arga shrugged casually.
"Sometimes there are voices. From unseen beings. But don't worry. Walk with a calm heart and honest intent, and the forest won't disturb you. At most… they get curious." He laughed softly.
The casual way he said it made their skin crawl.
They continued on until the trees thinned and a dirt path appeared.
Smoke rose from small houses ahead.
Chickens clucked.
Children's voices drifted through the air.
Anindya stopped, her eyes shining.
"So this is your village?"
Arga smiled. "Yes. Beautiful from here, isn't it?" He pointed down another path where carts loaded with firewood waited.
"I need to take these there. You can explore the village. Maybe someone can guide you further. If you're lucky, someone might even be traveling to the capital."
Danu smiled awkwardly, his clothes dirty and damp.
"Thank you, Arga. Be careful."
Anindya lingered a moment longer.
"Hopefully… we'll meet again."
Arga smiled, then turned away.
The three stood at the edge of a world that no longer belonged to them.
And for the first time, none of them could deny it anymore.
They were no longer in their own time.