The morning sun light gently crept through the woven bamboo walls, dancing on the clay floor like golden fingers awakening the world. The damp air carried the scent of wet earth and boiled roots, a simple blend that was soothing and healing. In that small room, time seemed to slow down, allowing life to breathe in silence.
Rani sat beside Raka, bathed in the soft morning light reflecting off her face. Her hands moved swiftly as she stirred a potion in a clay jug, her gestures calm yet certain. Behind the gentleness of her gaze, there was a resolve that could not easily be shaken.
"Kakang... the wounds within your body have not fully healed," she said softly, her voice almost like a prayer floating in the air. "But don't worry. Let me help."
Her small hand reached out, gently touching Raka's chest. In an instant, a warm flow spread from her palm— not just any heat, but something finer, more alive. It was as if there was a pulse of nature flowing through, patient and constant, like the Éra mentioned in Kadeyan teachings.
A greenish light appeared, faint but distinct, forming a pattern of Éra on his skin. Rani closed her eyes and began to chant softly:
"Sawetining jagat, rahayu lumantar."
The words were like a key unlocking a door to peace. A green aura enveloped her body, and the pain that had burdened his joints slowly dissipated. His breath grew lighter, his heartbeat no longer rushed. There was a tranquility that seeped deep into his bones.
"The basic mantra of the Pangreksa," Rani said after taking a deep breath. "A knowledge to heal, protect, and maintain the balance of Éra within the body. Not just your body, Kakang... but your soul as well."
A moment of silence passed. In her eyes, there was an understanding of something more than just a skill—an awareness of the connection between the body, soul, and the universe. A harmony that must be preserved for a person to remain whole.
"In the world I come from," the man murmured softly, "Pangreksa... is like a healer in Western fantasy worlds. But this... is more than that, isn't it?"
Rani only smiled. A small smile full of meaning. "I don't know what world that is, but... maybe we're not so different, Kakang. Wherever we are, one must learn to protect, not just attack."
She returned to the potion in the jug and handed it over carefully. The liquid was warm in his grip, and it felt as though it held more than just healing properties—there was sincerity, there was love.
"We can't continue like this, Kakang," she said, her tone becoming more firm. "Our silver savings are running low. Today, I must return to work at the Balai Kadeyan."
There were no protests from the man. The reality the girl spoke of was too undeniable to be contested.
"But you must practice. Grow. Enter the Dwiwana Academy in the capital of Indrabhumi... that is the only way."
Her gaze was filled with hope. The Dwiwana Academy—where young men and women learned kanuragan, kwisenan, and kadeyan. A place where skills were forged, principles instilled, and destinies shaped. If one could pass the entrance exam, they would gain a name, a future, and protection. Something he had never had before.
The jug in his hands felt heavier. Inside it was the potion, but also hope. Rani's hope, and perhaps... his own hope.
"I will help as long as I can," Rani continued, placing the potion into her bag. "But after this... you must learn to stand on your own."
The morning light swallowed her silhouette as she stood and prepared to leave. In the distance, the sounds of the market began to stir, waking another world. She glanced at him once more before stepping outside.
"I entrust this house to you, Kakang. And... take care of yourself."
Her steps were light but full of resolve. As her shadow disappeared behind the door, all that remained was silence and a glass of decision.
Raka sat back down. Then, slowly stood, staring at his reflection in the surface of the jug. Today, it was not only his physical wounds that had healed. There was something deeper—an invisible wound, one that could not be touched by ordinary hands.
A long-forgotten quote crossed his mind, perhaps from a book he had once read or from a world that now seemed so distant:
"He who has a why to live can bear almost any how."
— Friedrich Nietzsche
This world, Maheswara, did not make room for those who only wished to survive. This world demanded understanding—of the laws, of Éra, of fate, and of who he truly was.
He had to learn. Not just to live, but to redeem, to find the reason why he was sent here—why the name Raka Wirabumi had been bestowed upon him.
"If I want to live, I must understand this world... down to its roots."
For resolve may carve a path.
But knowledge would shape his destiny.
For, in Raka's view, knowledge was the first weapon for survival.
And tomorrow, that journey would begin. With small steps. With the first question. With the resolve of a student who swore never to return to ignorance.
In Maheswara, even a healer was a warrior.
And in the teachings of the Kadeyan, there was a philosophy Raka remembered.
"Sing bisa nglindhungi, iku sing pantes mimpin."
(He who can protect, he is the one worthy to lead.)
And so, that day, Raka chose not to be a hero.
But to be a protector.
To protect what must be protected.