by Rama Nugraha
Fij was Erry’s most beloved item. The only inheritance left by both of her parents who just disappeared. In a glance, the piece of jewelry radiated inexplicable dim light. Datan remembers vividly how Father froze the moment he saw Erry wearing the necklace.
From then on, Father’s resentments towards Erry subdued.
Father met and welcomed Erry kindly. He even took the time to compliment her look. On the other hand, Aunt Fira stayed in the kitchen preparing the meals, demonstrating her skill of chopping mushroom while reading recipe books. She only threw Erry a glance, not smiling.
The last one to arrive was Uncle Joe. The Urgut lad with wide eyes who loved to grow his thick beard and mustache was actually Father’s best friend, who later got close with Datan because of their shared interest in hunting. Uncle Joe introduced Datan to the Dull-Horned Skunk, a tiny ferocious animal that farts a lot and was delicious once skinned and grilled with some slices of onions.
The living room was filled with a delicious aroma which made his stomach growled. In the table which had been decorated with blue candles, radiating golden gleam, Aunt Fira, helped by Datan, serve the meal to the guests: starting with fresh bright-colored fruit, sugary and airy sweets, mushroom soup with spices and warm eye-opening spicy soup, dishes made of diced venison with tempting savory sauce, even Naqi which was the main beverage in every major event of Haedin people—which Datan loved.
Father was the one making the Naqi since predawn. He made it by soaking ginger and two kilograms of seedless dates inside a jug made of clay, then it is set in the dungeon for the whole day.
They started to devour the feast peacefully. Not even chewing sound was heard. The atmosphere was too quiet and stuffy, despite the cold weather outside. Aunt Fira took a sip of her Naqi, her expression was flat and unexcited. Datan tried to eat his soup which supposedly tasted better without saying anything, he swallowed his tenseness along with the soup.
Erry cleared her throat after finishing half of her soup. “Your food tastes great, Aunty,” she complimented. “How do you make pupur mushroom as soft as this?”
Aunt Fira took her time. She took a spoonful of a big chunk of carrot. She chewed it as if it was a piece of gum, then she looked at Mother’s panting. Datan wiped his forehead, sensing Aunt Fira’s inner turmoil.
“Mushroom soup is our signature dish, Erry,” Father answered, then added how it was normal for a woman of Haedin to be excellent at cooking mushroom. “The excellence of Fira’s food is in the broth.”
Datan ignored Father’s explanation. He was restless as he felt Aunt Fira’s objection attending this event. “Aunty, are you alright?”
“She’s alright, Datan. She’s just tired from all the cooking.”
Aunt Fira glared. “You think so, Matt? Then why do I feel tonight is the last night we will see each other?”
Datan almost choked hearing it. Now he was sure what Aunt Fira was going to say. “You shouldn’t say that,” he nagged.
Aunt Fira puffed her cheek. Erry tried to hold her hand to calm her down, but Aunt Fira pulled it harshly, narrowing his eyes cynically at Erry. The younger of the two could only swallow and smiled bitterly.
“Why not, Datan?” Aunt Fira challenged. “Tell me, are you going to come back once you join them?”
“I assure you I will, Aunty.”
“Why? What’s so amazing about them? What’s the good coming from joining them?”
“Fira, we’ve talked about this—“
“Quiet, Matt. I want to make sure,” Aunt Fira interrupted. “I want to hear it from my son.”
Everyone put their spoon down. Uncle Joe was still chewing the meal ever so slowly as he assessed the situation.
“I don’t know, Aunty,” Datan shook his head sullenly. “I don’t know what good will come from it. But I know I will be happy to be a part of them. I want to see Ana again. I want to talk to her.”
Aunt Fira glared frustrated hearing Datan’s honesty. She laughed wryly. “Ana, yes…. Ana. Ana. Ana… for the love of Unum. Everything is your Father’s fault,” she glanced at Father who was wincing. “If only he didn’t decline my offer to have you study in the Academy, to have you become an intellectual man to help this country. You would have been more open-minded and not as stubborn as you are now.”
“For twelve years, Fira. I thought we’re over this.”
“This is far from over, Matt!” she shouted hysterically, her face resembling a ceramic mask. “This matter will never be over if Datan is still blinded by his insane dream to join the damned fellowship!”
Erry shuddered uncomfortably and she slid her sitting farther away from Aunt Fira.
Datan’s face turned purple. Father and he thought this might happen. Datan gulped Naqi, leaving the glass half empty. “Why are you so troubled about this, Aunty?”
“Because I don’t want you to be a criminal! Someone disgraceful! Isn’t it obvious? They are thieves, Datan!” she roared like he was ready to pounce on Datan. “They are murderers!”
The room was now as tense as a courtroom. Uncle Joe put his hairy hand on the top of his head. Datan felt nauseous as if the inside of his stomach was stirred with a wooden spoon like a cake batter. His appetite was gone. He couldn’t say anything. Behind him, the wood fire cracked, becoming the only sound filling the silence.
“Is there any of you who is on my side on this?” Aunt Fira’s face quivered. “Don’t you realize that the Royans are evil and despicable? Am I the only one in the right mind here?” she stopped to take a breath. Her eyes were filled in sorrow and rage as she saw every single person in the table, her expression revealed her disgust and hate. Her left hand held the blue stone hung in her necklace tightly. “This night is a mistake! Are we really celebrating a loved one’s departure to be a criminal? This is mental!”
Once Aunt Fira got angry, Father, let alone Datan, was hesitant to speak up. They prefer to be quiet and to listen—trying to comprehend and appreciate what she was saying. Because they know better, Aunt Fira was not a spitfire even if she was talkative. Aunt Fira would only get mad at something beyond her comprehension.
Like the obsession to join the League of Royans.
“I think Datan deserves to choose what he wants to do, Aunty,” Erry uttered carefully. “He is no longer a child, is he?”
“He might no longer be a child. But he doesn’t know better,” she cried out, briefly glance at Datan who looked down, then she turned her neck agitatedly. “You, Erry, I despise you. What is exactly is your goal here? You always have Datan’s back no matter what. You are the one who taught him how to steal. Oh! I am sure you are the first one to support him to be a Royan too, aren’t you?”
“Teach him how to steal? Well, I don’t have any other choice. He goaded me into it, Aunty. He pestered me. He followed me all the time, every single day, and it would last for weeks if I kept ignoring him. He even followed me home. Uncle Kurk once chased him away because he thought Datan was malicious. I told you this many times, no?” Erry glimpsed at Datan for a moment, she looked stressed. “You know very well how Datan is when he wants something,” she could not cover her anxiety. She almost sounded whimpering, her voice choked in her throat.
Erry turned her sitting position, facing Aunt Fira. She raised her balled fist to her chest and hold it with her other hand, then she laid her head down—pleading. “For supporting Datan, I am sorry, Aunty. Really, can you forgive me?”
Aunt Fira scoffed, crossing her arms before her chest and looking elsewhere.
“That’s enough, Fira. This night is supposed to be a memorable night for all of us—especially for Datan,” Uncle Joe finally spoke. “He will depart early tomorrow to—“
“Why haven’t you ever supported me in this, Joe? You are just like Mattan. You don’t care about what’s going to happen to Datan. His life can never be peaceful if he chooses to join the despicable bunch!”
Uncle Joe was stunned. His ears twitched in panic. He opened his mouth then closed it again when
his eyes met Aunt Fira’s, which were teary. Aunt Fira threw her napkin and hastily left the table. She held back her tears as she took her coat in the coat hanger and walked out of the house.
Everyone threw Uncle Joe a judging look.
“What?” Uncle Joe was startled. “I am right, aren’t I?”
Father sighed. “You should just let her be, Joe.”
Datan exhaled, rose to his feet and pat Uncle Joe in the back. “You are not wrong, Uncle,” he consoled him before running after Aunt Fira.
◆◆◆
The western sky was enfolded in the white of cloud, blown by evening wind gusting, sweeping the sky. Datan watched as a formation of the fog descended from the top of an ashen mountain. Thousands of fireflies dance, twinkling as they surrounded wild reeds. In the distance, the border wall of Tomera country was extended outwards, tangled in glowing vines.
Aunt Fira wondered in silence all alone in the cliffside near the house. Both of her hands were crossed in front of her chest to protect herself from the cold air. Datan approached her hastily.
“I feel awful. It’s like I’ve failed.”
“No, Aunty. No one has failed,” Datan uttered. “You’ve helped Father raising me in the best way you can.”
Aunt Fira’s face darkened still. “No matter what I say about them, you won’t listen, will you?”
“I know I will regret it if I don’t fulfill this one wish.”
For a moment Aunt Fira looked as though she was holding back pain aching in her chest. Her eyes were shut tightly, glistened with tears. She mumbled something, it sounded like a prayer for Unum. She prayed for patience and fortitude in taking care of Datan.
“It’s unfortunate…” Aunt Fira grumbled. “Really, I want you to be a worthy man. This world needs that kind of people. Youths who are truly helpful. As an Ingra, you are prophesied to bring a change.”
Datan sighed.
Aunt Fira began to speak out her concern. About the civilization which stopped evolving in the Age of Restoration. About the Urgut people who underwent vision and imagination crisis, unable to produce anything despite their effort.
“Haedin might be more clever and creative. Even under the shadow of the Marra people long ago, we manage to invent remarkable magic. But now, not anymore. We complain too much, always protest and detest. Easily lose heart then just simply give up. We would rather blame fate than do something to resolve a problem.
“Time changes us. Peace has made us weak.”
That was Aunt Fira for you. Datan was also completely aware that not every Urgut or Haedin was as bad as Aunt Fira made them seem. Father was one of them.
Aunt Fira might just be an ordinary woman who dealt with a knife behind the counter of her tiny butcher shop. Even so, she had the sight of an eagle flying in the sky. Like Father, she read a lot. Once, she traveled around the world, during the time she just met Uncle Baram.
Since then, Aunt Fira kept talking about complicated matter beyond comprehensions like the evolution of the era, the wussy, apathetic youths in the Age of Restoration, poverty and low literacy rate which got worse day by day, and many others related to the social civilization issue and the movement of the world.
As for Datan? Really though, why should he be so concerned of others? It was hard enough to care for himself.
“For Unum’s sake… you should not waste your youth, Datan,” Aunt Fira exclaims. “There are many other professions that could be better out there. Can’t you try gardening? Be a civil servant? Be a painter like your mother? Or a merchant?
“I want you to study in the Academy of Economy—were your father not so arrogant to accept my help. Because honestly, even now, Baram and I want you to run the store after us.”
Datan quieted, not knowing what to say. Haedin people indeed had the tradition to inherit their occupation to their children in order to maintain the honor of the family. A child who denied the inheritance was deemed a rebel, insolent, and ungrateful. There were plenty of Haedin people whose relationship with their children worsen because of this matter.
Fortunately, Father was able to overlook this idea. Father realized that being a hunter was not a particularly a profession of glory nor was it worth inherited to his son.
“But it seems that it will never happen, won’t it?” Aunt Fira lamented over Datan.
Datan smiled weakly. He put his arms lightly around Aunt Fira, stroking her shoulder softly. He loved her dearly. Yet, he could not give away his whole life for the bushy-browed woman. Datan had chosen the life and fate he was going to embark upon.
Datan wanted to see Ana once more and to join the League of Royans.
“Tell me more about Mother, Aunty. It’s been a while since you spoke of her.”
“Your mother? Oh…” her voice suddenly became sorrowful. Her wrinkly eye glistened once more. “She was the loveliest women I’ve ever met. She was a woman of Marra bloodline, obviously. She was a painter full of potential. A clever and funny one, she was. She knew her place. She thought well of others, no matter how hard the obstacle stood before her. Even just before she left us after giving birth to you, she can still say, ‘I believe my passing is a benevolence for the remaining.’
“Keila Agnaeta Woudward was the most stunning woman I have ever seen. She perceived the universe in an unbelievable depth. Only your father could understand her way of seeing life.”
Datan was locked in silence. Suddenly, for some reason, he was about to cry. He took her hand of Aunt Fira and hugged her instead. “I love you, Aunty,” he whispered.
Aunt Fira, whose cheeks were wet with tears, nodded on Datan’s shoulder. “Promise me, Datan,” she said mournfully. “Take good care of yourself. Don’t you forget to send me letters!”
◆◆◆
He was home. The night bugs sang in the middle of the meadow of waving grass. Erry gave something to Datan before saying goodbye.
“I want you to have it,” Erry said, not taking any interruption. She stared at Fij briefly. She put on the mysterious red necklace in Datan’s neck. Then, she looked at him sternly, concerned. “I want you to remember me, Datan. I want you to remember all of us who will always wish you are safe during your duty as a Royan.”
Datan was stunned looking at Fij in the palm of his hand. “But—“
Erry hissed, not taking any objection. “Take care of it,” she said. “Fij is yours now.”
Chapter 5
The Man with Golden Earrings
Datan Woudward reached Fardas in August 0065K. During that time, autumn had come in one half of Southern Land of Sarayan. The wind blowing felt warmer than last month as it blew from the mountain, sweeping the blooming pad flowers. Their petals resemble colorful bowls, painting the whole meadow. Animals came out of their dark holes in the soil to sing under the green of the leaves.
Just like Tormera and some other countries in the other side of the world, Fardas was led by a Thar along with several Shers (who were experts in various constitutional matters), who serve the King ruling the entire land. Datan found Suba Tower, a place where Unuma prayed at Unum the Creator. That tower stood at twenty-five meters in height, with the shape resembling a disk in the summit.
Datan knew Fardas as a country of harbors sheltering various ships from across the land. On the west side, the town was filled with cone-shaped buildings of the Haedin people. They were built using ironwood as the foundation. They stood along with stunning green lawn. Whilst on the eastern land stood the houses of the Urgut people which rarely had any lawn or plants at all. They were square in shape and were built using clay and mountain rocks.
There was a big event. Thar Ubaga Jarhal, the Leader of the Country, was celebrating his birthday. The man was wearing a luxurious Nimta along with a necklace which made the attending King glared in resentment. In the party, it seemed like everyone from Southern Land of Sarayan forced themselves to come. The event was filled with strict guards, exquisite food and notable guests. Datan ate well and got to know several lady guest
s that day, before proceeding with his mission tomorrow morning.
Fardas Post Office was the biggest one in Sarayan. The architecture was tall with a square of Bird Park on the top. It was grand as it was completely made of ironwoods in the shade of teal. It had tens of oval windows, three stories, along with a curved veranda. There are hundreds of employees and they worked vigorously every single day. For a moment, Datan was stunned being in the middle of the wide round room. He saw shelves arranged neatly, in which numbers and area names were written on them. There were also documents stacked tall on tables; letters and packages piled in boxes; there was even a giant map on the wall marked with shipping addresses.
In the East Wing, a giant, majestic craving was displayed in a wall of a half-circle-shaped room. The sunlight penetrated through the ceiling, radiating the craving, exposing every detail in it. Datan stood in the room, his mouth slightly gapped. A female Urgut covered in a dark cloak stood beside her. She bit the tip of her thumb with eyes widened, looking serious.
It was called: The Three Realms.
It depicted the existence of the three realms known in the history of Neena civilization.
First, the Surface was the place where Father and Datan lived. On it was realms of many kinds of being. The Surface was divided into five continent. It stood under a boundless blue sky. On the Surface, the Neena civilization was born, grown, and evolved. It was a beautiful place, where trees and flowers of any shade of colors grew and bloomed. There were countless ships sailing the sea to escort messengers or goods to be sold in its foreign harbors.
In each continent stood a grand castle, each of which had a different crest. They were protected with strong fortress and looming towers. People of Haedin was portrayed planting seeds in fertile soil, landscaping the soil to plant the crops, and liven up the forest with their magic. In the highlands, people of Urgut mined, scoped iron and gold from the soil, leaving plenty of gapping dark holes in the surface. The people of Ingra were not present for a little was known about them. Whilst the people of Marra were purposefully not displayed as they were considered to be extinct.
