by Rama Nugraha
“That shouldn’t be your concern, not now at least,” Pollo put his hands back into his pocket. “You need to contact Sami and formulate a strategy to defeat Nymeria, Datan.”
Datan shifted uncomfortably on the bed. He swallowed hard while nodding absentmindedly. He could not breathe. The horrifying event was replayed in his mind. He started to realize that what he saw was not a dream, it was a vision, something that actually happened. He saw Nymeria took Father. In reality, she actually did.
The door was opened.
Aunt Muri walked in to check on Datan, paused every talk in the room. Carefully, Aunt Muri examined Datan’s arm, making sure there was no loose bandage or seeping blood. She asked Datan to open his mouth so she could see his throat. She heard his heartbeat through a green stethoscope, and she looked at his eyes through a magnifier. She also made sure Datan’s temperature was normal by making him put a thermometer in his dry mouth. After she finished, she starred at Datan like he was a precious marble statue.
Aunt Muri touched the green pearls in her neck. She mustered an awkward thin smile after finally deciding what to say. “Praise Unum,” she said softly. “The medication worked well. You can leave in three days. But I suggested you not to drink Naqi or to smoke babag—or pipe—otherwise, your right hand will cramp. Also, don’t use that hand to lift heavy stuff for a while.”
Datan buttoned his pajamas, nodding understandingly. “I’ll keep that in mind, Aunty,” he said. “Thank you.”
In the room, Irirana was still talking to Sal. The old man did not say much, most of the time he nodded while stroking his long beard. King Lucas stood facing one of the giant windows, not too far from where Datan slept. He contemplated something as every now and then he walked back and forth while taking a deep breath. When he stilled, his eyes gazed through the glass, looking at the lush lawn where flowers grow. He touched Zu in his grasp. He still stared at it like he was looking at the embodiment of true love. He was lost in his own thought. Nobody knows what he contemplated at the moment.
“What did she show you, pan?” Kanas broke the silence. “She must have shown you something.”
Datah shivered. “Aside from her meeting with my father? Nothing else,” he lied. It would be disrespectful to tell them right away that Nymeria had just slashed Sami Famash’s neck. “Can anybody explain to me what Telepaqua is?”
Datan saw how Kanas and Pollo’s expression changed, it was like they were stung. Kanas did look straight at him while Pollo shook his head sympathetically. The leader turned away to sit on the carved wooden chair in the garden, watching the rest of the people from there.
Datan frowned, what was wrong with them?
Sal who had been watching all along, coughed to get their attention. He walked away from Irirana towards Datan. Irirana soon trailed behind him. Her fingers were intertwined tightly as her gaze fell upon Datan.
“Kahisar and I have been thinking…” Sal started, he sounded as calm as ever. “We think that Nymeria has chosen you, Son. She was interested in you, wanting something from you.”
Datan crooked an eyebrow as he stared at Sal sharply. “Choosing me for what?” he asked, truly offended by the notions. “Is she insane?”
“She’s not insane, Datan. It’s the other way around. She knows what she’s doing.”
Irirana chose not to say anything. She saw that Datan was at the lowest condition and that she could not corner him and bombarded him with questions and demands. That would not help him in any way. That was why she chose to listen.
Datan looked away. He was angry and that made his head throbbed painfully. Why did Nymeria do this to him? What was her plan? What did she want? Was it really just to take back Zu?
Datan started to blame himself. He should have backed down that night. He should have listened to the Anag’s warning. His hand gripped his head which got heavier. But then Sal stepped forward, he whispered something. He lifted his index finger and tapped Datan’s forehead once.
His skull was refreshed in an instant if that made sense. The tap caused a made-up composure he could not put into words. He starred at Sal, dumbfounded. The surge of questions in his mind disappeared into thin air.
“You weakling,” Sal commented. He punched Datan’s chest lightly. “An Ingra was known to be strong mentally. Do you know that?”
Datan’s jaw dropped like a fish dying on land, unable to retort back. Did he look that weak? How did Sal know about Ingran people?
“The Zu,” King Lucas finally found his voice again. He stepped away from the window, joining the others around Datan’s bed. “That woman wanted the Zu, right?”
“Clearly, that’s not all she desires, Your Majesty,” he said. Sal gaze fell upon Datan like he wanted to crack a big secret inside that boy. “I think fundamentally, personally… Two Become One, Telepaqua was a rare talent one could use more than just as a means to dive into someone else’s memory. It could also be used to blend consciousness.
“Your life was now connected with hers. You share senses. When it happens, it would resemble a dream for the victim. What you see, of course, not a dream but a real event.”
Datan’s heart paced erratically. “What do you mean, Sal?” he inquired more detail, his eyes were accusing.
“You live inside her, or the other way around. Nymeria could see your life through you. Though I think she hasn’t gone that far. You haven’t had the Bonding Mark yet.”
Sal was not smiling, he only looked tense.
Datan’s jaw dropped. He felt as though something heavy fell upon his chest. He got nauseous. That was bad. Really, really bad. Nymeria could know everyone he was close with and she could watch every single move he took without him realizing it. Now what? That woman would use everything she knew against him for sure.
“Telepaqua was a terrifying talent, Datan,” Sal continued. “Nymeria wanted something from you, and sure. But she could also want to share something with you.”
“How could I stop this?”
“Only Nymeria could undo this. You cannot kill her,” Sal warned him. “You should persuade her to set you free.”
Datan laughed bitterly. “You can’t be serious.”
Sal closed his mouth blankly.
“It will be impossible to persuade her, Sal!” Datan yelped. “That woman is insane!”
His desperate voice echoed to every corner of the hospital wing. He did not want to be deemed afraid, because he did not. He tried not to be afraid. But this was the first time someone was put in a dangerous position because of him. Father was kidnapped because of him. The reality of the situation just left him speechless.
King Lucas smiled understandingly like a wise man with a big heart that he was.
“He truly is new, Your Majesty,” Sal stated.
The King chuckled. “Well, he is a man who tried to be a Royan because he wanted to have fun, right?” he exclaimed cynically at the ridiculous reason. He walked closer to the bed, pulling Datan’s hand and handed him the Zu stone. “Alright. For Unum’s sake. You go catch Nymeria and have her release your father. I’ll be waiting for both of you in Kalidas. Your father… I wanted to have a talk with him.”
The Ruler of Sarayan looked sure of his words. His marble-like blue eyes gleamed with determination. In a glance, there was a slight objection in his eyes for he had to give back the Zu stone to Datan. But somehow, he could manage his desire from going awry. His pride as a king would be hurt if he did not help Datan.
“Make sure you give it back to my hand after you finish with it.”
Datan was utterly stunned, touched even with the King’s support. He nodded, holding a shaky breath. He released the tension in his muscle, feeling the Zu stone spreading warmth in his now red-skinned hand.
“We will go to Wanageeska using Seekar,” Kanas proclaimed. “Kahisar will join us.”
Datan made sure he was hearing right, “You’ll come along?”
“For Unum! Isn’t it obvious, pan?”
“You're not thin
king that this is a family vacation, right?”
Irirana chuckled, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. She was impressed with how fast Datan picked himself up.
On the other hand, Kanas grumbled. “Cocky brat,” he snorted. “We have our own business to accomplished.”
Datan frowned. “What kind of business?” he asked.
“Simply to make sure that you're not killed in action.”
Chapter 27
The Red-skinned Royan
King Lucas received an important message from the Kings’ Alliance, which demanded his return to Kalidas. In the same day, Datan felt that he could already move his body—albeit the movement was very limited. He could not wait to discuss the plan for his journey. Irirana agreed to do so and Pollo proposed a place for the meeting.
“I could prepare some delicious snack for our discussion,” he said.
◆◆◆
House number 7, which was occupied by Pollo, was a two-story tube-like building with quite an exuberant interior design. The floor was made of red onyx and the wall of the stone-scented living room was decorated with numerous masks from many tribes in the Surface. Amongst those, Datan recognized the black wooden mask of the Niska civilization, which has golden circles around the eyes. He knew that in the Age of Three Realms, Niskas were known as the Eye Worshipers.
Datan felt those hollowed eyes staring at him vacantly through the steel or diamond they were made of. That house, in its entirety, left a bizarre impression. Coming along with them was Benji who had a ‘business’ with Pollo. Though he actually just wanted to borrow an encyclopedia to work on homework from the Academy, which asked him to find the story of a tribe of gold hunters in Soron Nublar Island.
“And you don’t know anything about brooch in the shape of a mask?”
“I’m not the only mask enthusiast in this world, Datan.”
Datan nodded his head. “Alright, before we begin,” he told the others, using the tone that clearly would not take a ‘no’ as an answer. “I need a mirror. I need to see myself in a mirror. You know, people looked at me as if I am a walking statue.”
“You have to be strong, alright?” Irirana said.
“Don’t worry about it.”
Irirana looked at Datan concernedly as he walked into a corridor, heading to the bathroom. The living room was quiet as he did so. On the table engraved with the shape of a hooded owl, Pollo prepared a snack he called Chocolate Peanut Salad Polloh, which was made of red beans and cubed melons, drizzled with black honey and sprinkled special powdered chocolate from Borneo.
“I bet he’d scream,” Pollo commented. “Hysterically.”
And Pollo was right, indeed. Datan screeched hysterically. Upon hearing it, Benji did not show any reaction. On the swinging chair near the fireplace, the boy kept flipping pages of encyclopedia he got from Pollo. Rather than feeling sympathetic, he found it humiliating that a Royan cried out like that.
“Datan, you have to accept yourself!” Irirana reminded him from the living room, hoping that Datan could still see the silver lining.
“Oh for Unum, Irirana! Accept it? You can’t be serious!” Datan bellowed angrily. “Have you not see my face properly? Come here and have a look then! The only normal skin I have left in on my bottom! The rest is red flesh! And it’s peeling off! Oh, that dammed Anag! He is a nothing but a vile human slave!”
“He’s in shock,” Pollo stated, holding back his secondhand embarrassment. “Don’t mind him too much, Lady.”
Irirana grimaced. As she took a seat on the sofa, she crossed her legs and squeezed her palms.
“How can I approach women with this look?” Datan screeched.
“You must be patient, Datan!”
“Oh, to hell with being strong, Irirana! I cannot get women with patience!”
Pollo glared unbelievably. “Is he actually screaming because of that?” he hissed.
“No! I mean you have to patiently wait! Aunt Muri said the effect was temporary!” Irirana reprimanded, she turned to Pollo. “He’s young, Pollo, you know what it’s like, right?”
The clanging sound was heard in the bathroom from something that sounded like water dipper being thrown, followed by vigorous tapping that sounds like a rampaging horse. Datan panted as he came out, holding his bandaged arms, showing red skin like a case of a nightmarish sunburn.
“How long should I wait?” he asked breathlessly. “Lady, I could smell that the wound behind the bandage is way worse.”
Irirana gasped. “I don’t know,” she said, flustered. “Aunt Muri cannot tell for sure. But she was sure that your skin will turn normal eventually.”
Datan threw Irirana a sharp, demanding gaze. “She should have explained this to me herself!” he protested.
“Watch your words, Datan,” Pollo warned.
Meanwhile, next to the window, Kanas chuckled as he continued chewing pieces of blood orange on his own.
“Forgive her, Datan,” Irirana asked. “She didn’t know how to tell you and she’s really busy these days. She was really burdened that it even affect her mood.”
Irirana proceeded to explain that Datan’s condition was far too concerning that Cercila would do more harm than good for him. As Datan’s wound worsen by the second, a quick decision has to be made, otherwise, his skin would never turn back to normal.
Aunt Muri tried to do the best for Datan, to heal him with Tanjiji, an item of which only a few Healer in the word brave enough to use. That green potion needed a high level of accuracy for every ingredient, the measurement was specified up to the milligram scale. A slight miscalculation would cause a fatal effect in the end product.
“But it did not turn as we hoped,” Irirana uttered. “Your skin, an Ingran’s skin, didn’t react well to Tanjiji. That’s why it has... side effect.”
Datan stilled, unblinking. He processed Irirana’s explanation.
“You should be thankful, Datan,” Irirana continued. “Many people experienced bad seizure and died on the spot if exposed to Anag’s fire from such close distance. You know how the fire breath of mature Anag is toxic. It is pure luck that you have a strong body and heart. Besides, that skin is only temporary. Sooner or later, it will turn to normal.”
Datan took a deep breath, exhaling it ever so slowly several times. Was he really lucky?
“Don’t forget,” Kanas reminded, grinning. “You should take a bath frequently because if not, pan… for Unum. Your body will be hellishly itchy.”
“Yeah,” Benji added, not at all sounded empathetic. “It feels like your skin is infested with fleas.”
Datan grimaced. “What?”
Kanas laughed, showing his teeth, which were red, stained by the blood orange.
“Benji,” Irirana called sharply. “Have you finish your ‘business’ here?”
Benji scoffed and simply turned back to the pages of the encyclopedia as he stopped the chair from rocking back and forth. “I’ll finish soon, Mother,” he said.
Pollo walked out of the kitchen. He passed through a step in the floor carefully as he brought a large tray, on top of which were five ceramic bowls. “Well…” he mumbled as he served the salad on the table neatly. “At least you have a distinct feature. The Red-skinned Royan.”
Oh no. Datan thought that the chain mockery had ended. Kanas barked a laugh loudly. His face was very irritating that Datan would remember that for the rest of his life.
“Oh, Pan-pan! You seem to have so much fun with this!” Datan snapped—holding himself not to throw some burning charcoal in the fireplace to his superior. “You bastard!”
“Enough!” Irirana reprimanded. In an instant, Kanas’s laugh disappeared, while Pollo and Datan froze as they stared at the Lady. “You behave like children!”
Datan sigh to suppress his anger. He left the room to put on his attire which he left in the bathroom. He dragged his feet as he walked out. He sat in one of the stone-framed solo sofas surrounding a coffee table made of onyx. He felt worse. Nausea ling
ered in his stomach. His right arm inside the bandage ached. He imagined being the red—the Red-skinned Royan. No matter what he wore, he would still look odd and… red.
His index finger scratch the arm of the sofa.
Datan kept thinking what young girls would say if they saw him. What would Erry say? Aunt Fira? Well, surely father would laugh at him just like Kanas did. His skin was horrifyingly red! Also, he did scratch the back of his ear with the tip of his thumb. It really was itchy. Oh, this was a declaration of war from the dammed Anag! How could Datan make that creature pay for this?
Irirana read his thought. “Focus, Datan,” she reprimanded. “You still need to arrange a plan for your journey to Wanageeska.”
“I know.”
All of them ate Pollo’s salad as they formulated plans in their own head. Datan was chewing red bean tasting like honey mixed with powder chocolate which was too sweet though leaving behind a trail of slight bitterness in his throat.
“I don’t understand why you always end the name of your dish with ‘Polloh,” Datan commented. “That’s not tasteful.”
“Because I like it that way.”
“And the name is way too long, Chocolate Peanut Salad Polloh ridiculous.”
Pollo glared, “Since when do you complain this much?” he deadpanned.
“Since you called me The Red-skinned Royan.”
“Here you go again,” Irirana cut their quarrel. “If you continue, I’ll leave this place.”
Irirana used the distinct intonation that made people respect her in an instant. Her clear sharp eyes made the other three men in the room realize that they needed her direly in the discussion. Irirana cannot leave them, otherwise, Datan’s mission would not go well.
Datan gave up. He looked down and ate a spoonful of honey-covered red beans to his mouth. The beans glistened as if they were a clear candy and they felt sticky in his tongue. And that powder chocolate… for a moment Datan felt a sense of familiarity to its vague burnt smell. Datan tried to finish the dish as fast as possible without any protest. Along with that dish, Pollo also served green apple juices from the iceberg-filled cupboard in his basement.
