The Thief

by Rama Nugraha

  Datan could feel the radiating charm the man. It was similar to Father’s. The charm distinctly displayed power and confidence, which implied that they were in control over their interlocutors.

  But that was not why Datan was stunned.

  The dark-skinned male had a gloriously stunning silver hair—which he just brushed to his back so carefully. There were gold rings as thin as a thread in each braid out of dozens in Pollo's head, which somehow smelt rather chalky. It made the silky hair looked sophisticated and luxurious.

  Datan wondered—his mouth itched not to ask—if his head was heavy with those. Has Pollo ever washed his hair?

  Sitting on the couch, Pollo’s demeanor changed. He looked even friendlier. He brought something homemade for Datan. It was chocolate spheres. Bright yellow melted cheese was poured on top of it, along with a sprinkle of chopped almonds. It looked simple but extremely appetizing. The aroma it made resembled burnt cinnamon—though it was odd for it could put someone under influence—which made him hungry.

  “You know, it’s my habit to share,” Pollo answered Datan’s confusion. “I called it Cokelata Polloh.”

  Datan barked a laugh in his mind at the name.

  Pollo told him about himself. He said that he loved cooking every type of dish. At times, he even assisted the League’s cooks in making dishes and desserts in the kitchen. Datan started to taste the food Pollo brought him.

  That was probably the best chocolate he ever tasted. It was perfect. It melted in his tongue. It was sweet with a pang of coldness from the mint leaves. The melted cheese’s slight saltiness somehow complimented the taste, and the almond provided a crunchy texture. Bizarre pleasure soared in his chest, clouding his awareness.

  Datan wanted to whistle, feeling like he had to do it in front of Pollo, the Leader of the Royans. Though he was not asked, Datan started to tell Pollo what happened in the forest. He told him to struggle to run with Irirana on his back, as well as his duel with the Ludajs’ Leader. He told them in excruciating detail, including every step he took and how his hands swung—not forgetting the jump and dagger swinging he did simultaneously during the duel. He told everything up to the last attack, when he threw the dagger, the blade of which impaled the leader.

  Pollo listened, unblinking.

  “You know. The Red Ludaj, Gorgok the Leader, he was known to be ferocious. But it seemed like you killed it effortlessly.”

  “It’s because I don’t give it the chance, Pollo,” Datan took another ball of chocolate, happily chewed it. “I was worried about Irirana.”

  Pollo looked at him in astonishment with gleaming eyes. “I am truly grateful, Datan. For your determination to help Lady Irirana,” he uttered.

  Datan scratched his head while still grinning stupidly.

  “An Ingra is known to have a crazy persistence,” he complimented. “Tell me more about yourself, Datan. Which martial arts do you master?”

  “I master Arni,” Datan answered, puffing up his chest. “I am used to fighting many people at once.”

  “Arni… it was the martial arts mastered by Marran warriors in the past,” Pollo gazed thoughtfully. Then he smiled the most sincere smile. “I believe you will be a great Royan, Datan. What about the necklace in your neck?”

  Datan frowned, reaching for Fij hanging in his neck. The eye of the pendant which was shaped like flame blazed. “This?” he asked.

  Pollo nodded. “It seemed special,” he said.

  “A friend had me carry it.”

  “May I know the name of that friend?”

  “Erry Monala,” Datan answered right away.

  Pollo smiled once more, bobbing his head as though he just comprehended something. Calmly, he brushed his hair to his back once again, the rings on it made a melodious clinking sound as it hit the gold ring in his finger.

  Datan blinked, staring at him in amazement.

  “It was nice to see you, Datan,” Pollo said with a commanding yet serene voice. “We have waited for an Ingra to join the League. You shall bring us something new.

  “My deputy leader, the Natuna man who picked you up in Fadas, Kanas Malluka, will come to tell you your itinerary. My duty here is finished. We shall talk more when you are an official Royan.”

  Pollo stood up and said goodbye. In the door, he stopped walking to look at Datan. “Oh, and you can finish the chocolate. It can’t withstand open air for more than three and a half hours.”

  Datan nodded, licking his chocolate-stained fingers like a little boy.

  ◆◆◆

  At night, Kanas came along with two tailors assigned to sew Datan some fitting clothes. Datan welcomed the guests warmly with a friendly demeanor as if he welcomed a friend from a distant land. After measuring him, the tailor left to start working on his clothes right away.

  “Your initiation will be held tomorrow,” Kanas sipped the Naqi he brought in a wooden thermos. “I hope Verik could finish the garment on time before the event begins.”

  Datan sat in the couch, swinging one of his legs.

  “You will meet Kahisar and pledge an oath. Everyone who was not on duty will be there. After that, you will officially be a Royan.

  Datan remembered Ana… and Irirana. “Will I see Irirana?” Datan glanced over the foggy window. “Ah, you see—I am worried about her.”

  Kanas’s gaze sharpened. “Yes, you will see her.”

  “Will there be a party?”

  “Party, pan?” Kanas chuckled dryly. “There will be a feast, but there wouldn’t be fireworks, loud music, and we will certainly not dance.”

  The next day around twilight time, Datan was reading The Man with Silver Hands from the bookshelf in the living room. As he was reading, one of the tailors of the League, Verik the stubby, came to deliver his new attire. It was a red tunic shirt, pants which had a pattern of a hooded owl, along with leather boots with golden Urtaya symbol under the sole.

  “You look dashing, Sir Datan,” Verik complimented, covering his gaping mouth as he watched him excitedly—like he was staring at a lover.

  “It’s great. Thank you, Verik,” Datan was awestricken seeing the charismatic figure reflected in the mirror of his cupboard. He looked like a prince charming yet mysterious from some fairytales. “And please stop staring at me like I am some unclothed woman.”

  Verik chuckled hoarsely like he was choking on some mucus. His bloated stomach wiggled as he did so. Afterward, Datan asked him to leave politely. As the night fell, there was another knock at the door. Kanas appeared wearing similar garment—but with a golden Urtaya symbol embroidered in his left chest.

  “Ready, pan?”

  They left the house, walking a road with many turns illuminated by torches. They pass through the inside fortress, entering the castle and approaching the front door. Two guards bowed as Kanas and Datan walked on the marble stairs.

  Chapter 11

  The Kahisar

  Datan saw a magnificent looming red building under the vast night sky, a tapestry of stars. The white glow showering it allowed Datan to see how the Royan Castle was actually a splendid alignment of towers, decorated with waving flags, with large oval windows displaying a room illuminated in a reddish hue. Green verandas stretched out at the top.

  This was the thrilling moment he had been waiting for. Datan would soon meet the other Royans. Tonight, he would become one of them. What was it like inside? Datan assumed the situation would be rigid and intense.

  Two guards in maroon uniform welcomed them. Simultaneously they opened the door for Datan and Kanas. The door made an odd squeak as though it was greeting them croakily.

  The main hall was drenched in twilight color scheme with golden torches attached to the sconce in the pillars made of iron sand. The fireplace radiated warm air as fragrant as the sea breeze. The floor of the hall made his knees trembled. It was made of a special glass at least ten centimeters thick. It was there to separate the main hall from the lake under them, where he could only see an abyss of darkness towards th
e bottom.

  The lake looked like a giant well.

  Datan felt his heart pounded. His Ingra eyes estimated the depth of the lake reached over three hundred meters. Though he could not see clearly, his guts told him that something was watching him from the depth. Something colossal… something vicious.

  “Don’t stare at it for too long,” Kanas reminded him.

  Datan obeyed. He swallowed back his fear and curiosity.

  Shifting his gaze, Datan saw a row of Royan flags hanging in the rafters of the hall. In the wall, there were framed pictures of people, from head to midriff, whom he did not recognize. There was also a golden placard, on it was handwriting saying “The Guards in the Darkness” in a glossy red ink, and there was a big oil painting of a sturdy man named Ralpatine Royan.

  The hall had the elements of sand, water, and wood merged in balance. Decorative plants—such as palm trees and aloe—was placed in several spots. The tables were arranged in the shape of a horseshoe. Beverages and fruits were already served on the table as the appetizer. There were ten people occupying the grey table. Both men and women were present, most of whom had silver hair. They all wore the same attire as Datan.

  They stood up straight, looking nervous and stiff like they were watching a convict who was about to be sentenced to death.

  Inside his pocket, Datan rubbed his thumbs. “I forgot to feed Niko,” he whispered.

  “Niko?”

  “You know, the expensive ornamental fish you put in my living room.”

  “For Unum, Datan! Focus!”

  Datan tried to be obedient. Lifting his chin, he walked sturdily while telling himself that the people surrounding him were just some statues. Even so, he failed.

  At the end of the lined chairs on the higher floor, behind maroon marble table engraved beautifully was a young lady whose face so beautifully bewitching. She was sitting gracefully, her eyes never left Datan, they were twinkling as she smiled so widely.

  That was Irirana.

  Datan stopped walking. He was captivated. His eyes were unable to look elsewhere. His face flushed as bashfulness tickled his heart. He breathed slowly and heavily, cursing himself who had belittled Irirana. Who would have thought, huh? Even if he was suspicious ever since he saw her in the forest, and since Kanas called her Lady.

  “Datan!” Irirana chirped, her voice echoed in the hall.

  Irirana stood up excitedly. She looked like an overenthusiastic little girl who was seeing her favorite new friend.

  Datan’s jaw dropped, his tongue felt like it was tied as he felt her gaze embraced him. Irirana laughed.

  Then, like suddenly remembered something, Irirana closed her eyes, taking her time to take deep breaths. The childlike expression faded. The air she inhaled had brought composure to her face. Her demeanor turned serious. In the midst of that, a black Bubo-bubo flew down from its hiding place in the ceiling, perching on Irirana’s armchair. The owl turned its head towards the guests, hooting. With its obsidian pupils and orange iris, it watched, recorded every single move of the attendee.

  Rumble of murmurs was heard amongst the attendee. They started to whispers to each other. Datan could feel a piercing jealous glare pointed at him. Even Kanas looked uncomfortable—his hollowed face stiffened. People seemed to notice Irirana’s interest in Datan.

  Datan saw that Irirana had healed from every kind of wound she got in the jungle. She looked completely like a different person. She let her soft greased hair fall untied, except for a portion which was braided around her head like a red crown.

  She wore a black silk gown, a small area of which was embroidered with golden thread forming a hooded owl. On her feet were red leather boots. Her long white neck was ornamented with a necklace, which has a fiery red pendant in the shape of a holed triangle. The same type of jewel was made into an owl shape and was used for her earrings.

  Someone muttered that the gem was Blood Diamond, the rarest and most mysterious jewel in the world. Every pair of eyes were on Irirana the moment she started moving. At the same time, an unknown Marra girl, who sat next to Irirana, squirmed uncomfortably. Whilst Pollo who sat in her left side straightened his back, crossing his arms, a bizarre enthusiasm was reflected in his eyes.

  Irirana walked down the stairs, approaching Datan and Kanas. Her beautiful gown was slit up to her knees, sweeping the floor. She slightly pulled her shoulder backward, her feet took sturdy steps brimming with confidence. Irirana looked mesmerizing. She radiated the beauty of a princess behind a charisma of a ruler. The scent of vanilla was emitted from her, giving those who took a whiff a sense of comfort.

  They kneeled before her until Irirana asked Kanas to take a seat and Datan to stand up.

  Looking straightly at her blazing copper eyes, Datan shivered for something else—for a realization. Datan had seen those eyes before. The charismatic gaze from her deep eyes radiating passion and courage—as though she had lived powerfully through times.

  Datan felt his whole body quivered… Ana?

  “Hello,” Irirana greeted gleefully. “You look dashing tonight. How do you feel?”

  “Like I’m walking on air,” Datan blinked. “Before you surprised me.”

  Irirana’s cheeked were flushed at his words. “You miss me?”

  “You could say that, Lady.”

  Irirana laughed. “Ah, right!” she exclaimed. “I’ve received the report about you. I am truly impressed.”

  Datan smiled, showing his dimples.

  “Alright, can we start? I’ll introduce you to Arkaiyan.”

  “I’m… ready.”

  Irirana took a deep breath, shutting her eyes, clenching her hands. “dakhe, Arkaiyan,” she whispered softly.

  ◆◆◆

  There was an odd vibration in the air. After one second, a red dot appeared on Irirana’s clear skin in her right forehead. It then spread all over her face, painting a tattoo with a very complicated pattern. I made her looked perplexing and haughty—still as beautiful nonetheless.

  The back of his neck shivered.

  A deafening silence fell upon the hall. Every moment in time and space stopped, it seemed. A surge of warmth came emerging from the glass floor. The fire crackled softly before it died, dimming the room.

  Irirana opened her eyes. Her gaze was deviously cold as if someone unknown was looking at him through her blazing eyes. Datan held his breath as he returned her gaze. His chest felt as though it was crushed by a giant rock.

  The hall was too silent and everyone was getting restless.

  “Greetings, Datan Woudward,” Irirana said. Her voice was sharp that the hair on his body wanted to escape him and his knees wobbled.

  Datan stood as stiff as a statue. “Hello,” he swallowed his nervousness.

  “You’re an Ingra.”

  “Indeed I am.”

  Irirana mustered a thin smile which was not hers. “Datan, Datan, Datan…” her voice sounded even more peculiar. She crossed her arms. “Yes, I can hear Irirana’s thoughts right now. Oh, how passionate she is about you… Tell me, how keen are you to be a Royan?”

  Datan’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “As much as I want to breathe, Lady,” he answered while trying to keep down the nervousness in every part of his nerve.

  Irirana smirked. “No need to dramatized it, Datan,” she uttered, agitated. “I heard you don’t want to kill? Why is that?”

  Datan realized that someone in the League would question him about this again—a question which everyone should know the answer to. “People love living,” he argued. “I don’t think we’re worthy to take that away. Life is beautiful and scarce, Lady.

  “It’s a blessing beyond price, which we could only get once.”

  Irirana’s pupils dilated, gleamed. There was a sense of disbelief in there. “Even for criminals? Murderers? People who create chaos? You think they are worthy of life?” she probed.

  “Well, we all here are worthy of life and want to experience it longer, aren’t we?”

  “
We kill certain people, Datan. Not a random gardener.”

  “Still. Their lives aren’t sold in the market, Lady. Even criminals are worthy of life.”

  Irirana’s face reddened in anger. “Why don’t you just be a guard, then?”

  Datan shrugged. “Because I’m not a good person,” he said. “I am a thief. I do what I desire.”

  “Unacceptable. I cannot grant your wish.”

  Datan’s index finger ribbed his thumb, he felt itchy. He could felt his heart pounded. Datan took two steps to his sides and walked back and forth, his eyes never left Irirana’s. “Again with this?” he complained. “Is this such a big deal?”

  “There’s no negotiation,” Irirana stated clearly with glaring eyes. “This is our absolute rule. Halta shouldn’t have let you pass!”

  Datan blinked, listening to the sound of his pounding heart deafened his ears. At this point, there was no way he would back down. Now that he was there, there should not be any more compromise.

  He sighed. “I pity you, honestly. You’re dead inside,” he said coldly. “You don’t know what it’s like to live.”

  “What did you say?”

  “Oh, are you an orthodox?”

  The attendee was startled. They held their breath like they were chocked by pairs of invisible hands.

  Iriana glared. Her eyes were as sharp as a blade, wanting to tear Datan apart. Yet, Datan remained indifferent. His instinct knew better that it was not Irirana who was mad at him—it was the other entity he did not know.

  “Yes. I refer to those who are very close-minded over freedom. I’m sure Irirana isn’t one. She’s a forward-thinking gorgeous lady. But you? You are an ancient being from the past. You, the Aryan—Arriya—”

  “Arkaiyan!”

  Datan mispronounced it on purpose. “Right, Akyan—Akh—”

  “Arkaiyan, Datan!” Irirana roared. Her voice echoed in every part of the hall, even delivered a snap into their heart. The attendee quivered in fear.