Baskara sat cross-legged beside Ancestor Nala, his eyes gazing at the star-filled sky.
"Fitrah (one's true nature) is not something to be sought outside oneself, but revealed from within—slowly, as the soul comes to recognize itself."
Ancestor Nala nodded gently, letting his grandson speak without interruption.
"Many chase fitrah through power, through fame, through achievements… but all those are mere shadows. To me, fitrah is the state where the soul no longer resists fate, but flows with it—without losing direction."
He closed his eyes briefly, touching the earth beneath him.
"Fate is like a great river. We cannot change its current, but we can learn to swim in it. If we ignore fitrah, we'll be swept away or drown. But if we understand fitrah, we can float… even dance along its flow."
Ancestor Nala finally spoke, his voice deep, gentle, and full of meaning.
"And you… have felt it yourself?"
Baskara opened his eyes and looked at his Ancestor.
"Not only me, Ancestor. Every calm soul—who sincerely seeks—will find its own time. I just happened to be given mine sooner."
Ancestor Nala took a deep breath, then looked at the still starry sky. His voice was calm, deep, yet filled with inner strength:
"Your words are like morning dew, clear yet refreshing… And it's rare for me to hear a young person speak of fate and fitrah with such calmness."
He turned to look at Baskara, his gaze not just seeing but seeming to penetrate into the soul.
"Fate is indeed mysterious, and fitrah is the lantern in its night. But only those who are willing to be still, to wait, and to listen to the whispers of their soul can light that lantern."
He pointed toward Baskara's chest without touching it.
"You have dived into depths many avoid. Your soul has traveled without holding on to the body—and not everyone can do that. But remember this, child…"
His voice softened but was full of emphasis.
"The higher the enlightenment, the more delicate the trials. You may have understood your fitrah, but the outside world may not align with what you feel. So strengthen your heart, for the path of fitrah is not for the many to follow—it is guarded by the chosen."
Baskara nodded slowly. Ancestor Nala's words were like smooth stones strengthening the foundation of his spirit.
"I understand, Ancestor," he said. "Fitrah is not to be boasted about, but to be fulfilled."
Ancestor Nala smiled, his eyes shining with pride and serenity.
"So fulfill it quietly… and let the world bear witness to the reflection of its light."
Ancestor Nala smiled warmly, his gaze calming.
"Alright, child… Before we continue, go see your parents first. They have been very worried about you. I was going to summon them here, but I think… it's better if you come home yourself."
The morning breeze gently swept the leaves. The air warmed, and a soft orange glow slowly appeared behind the eastern horizon. Dawn's light replaced the fading moonlight. The quiet and peaceful atmosphere witnessed the deep conversation that lasted through the night—until, unnoticed, morning had arrived.
Baskara stood slowly, his clear eyes shining like the sky soon to be welcomed by the sun.
"Alright, Ancestor… Then I will go home to see Father and Mother."
His tone was light, and his smile hinted at a longing that could no longer be held back. In his heart, of course, he wanted to share all that he had achieved… even if most of it was just a little showing off in front of his mother—and certainly his father too.
"Heh heh heh…" he muttered softly, unable to hide a grin imagining his mother's face, likely ready to hug him while scolding him for not giving news for three years.
Without wasting time, Baskara looked up to the sky. No longer did he use secret paths or bow to the fears of the past. He soared upward, cutting through the morning wind, passing the trees, leaving the Ancestor's Temple and the stone where Nala had sat.
Now the spiritual beasts in the ancestral land were no longer a threat, not even a match for him.
On his way home, Baskara passed by a familiar lake. He squinted, staring at the calm water's surface where the soft glow of dawn reflected. That was the place where he had once shown the Tapak Geni technique alongside the elders and his parents—a place that witnessed the beginning of his recognition and potential power.
"Time really flies…" he muttered quietly, a faint nostalgic smile slipping onto his face.
Suddenly, the urge to test his ability arose. Maybe just to see how much he had changed.
He raised one hand, then slowly controlled his breath. The air around him began to change—the previously calm wind turned fierce, carrying a scent of heat and energy. A golden-red light started to glow around him until—
BRRRUUUUMMM…!!
A giant virtual hand appeared above his head. Tapak Geni, third layer—now felt much denser and deeper. He directed it at the cliff beside the lake.
Immediately, a tremendous explosion shook the place. The cliff that was struck was flattened, and the radius of hundreds of meters around it was devastated. Trees touched only by the blast's force instantly turned to ash. The shockwave even scared distant birds into panicked flight.
Baskara was startled.
"This… is much stronger than before… Oh no, this forest might burn down completely!" he said quickly.
Without hesitation, he immediately spread his spiritual energy into the air. He drew water and wind elements from around him, forming thick dark clouds. In an instant, the sky turned gray. Then—
The heavy rain poured down, drenching the area as far as the eye could see. The radius covered hundreds of miles—even the Baskara family residence complex was soaked by the rain.
In the distance, from atop the temple, Ancestor Nala stood shaking his head gently, watching the lake now covered in misty rain.
"That child… so reckless trying his new power in the family's territory," he murmured.
But in his heart, he understood. Baskara had never truly tasted a real battlefield. Everything was still just practice and meditation's shadows. He was learning to make peace with his power—and sometimes, that learning comes through small mistakes that must be corrected.