The Thief

by Rama Nugraha

  Theo sat, stunned seeing Datan’s so busy with his wounds. Once in a while, he glanced hesitantly at the gleaming red item that the young man kept trying to hide. The item was hanging in a chain surrounded his neck, dangling right in front of his broad hairy chest.

  “Thanks for helping me, Theo.”

  “At first I wasn’t sure if I should,” Theo admitted. “And perhaps I shouldn’t have… my bathroom was destroyed because I did anyway.”

  Datan chuckled lightly.

  “But you manage to fill my lonely day.”

  Datan smiled. “Tell me something, about you, or anything,” he said, wiping the dried blood in the wound near his ribs with a rag that had been dipped in warm water from a basin.

  Theo did not say anything, he simply starred at Datan. He stood up to grab one purple babag form a drawer. He lit it with a match and sat on a rocking chair next to an open door. He moved lightly there, next to his bike he put inside of the house.

  “I’m waiting,” Datan whimpered as he brushed a potion smelling like moss. Once, he gulped the sarili. A bitter chocolate-syrup-like medicine was known to reduce pain and swelling.

  “Patience. I’m thinking about where to start,” Theo replied. “I’m not good at telling stories.”

  And then Theo began to speak.

  He had lived in the feet of Osberga Door for ten years. He had become a part of the guards who were ready to respond to anything that related to the appearance of the Tartas. His wife died because of a heart attack. Both of his children, who came visiting once a month, chose to live in the harbor.

  The Tartas was the Rogue Society that needed to be watched over. They lived in the Underworld since the mid of the Age of Three Realms. Their life was cut off any rules and law of the Kings’ Alliance. Often times, they went to the Surface to take a walk or to shop. According to Theo, their appearance resembled cavemen. They acted peculiarly and most of them could not be put under any control.

  “They like to gather in a harbor. Once they do, my, the situation was incredibly noisy,” Theo complained, blowing rounded smoke into the air. “They could scream admiring the sea all day long. Well, I could understand their sentiments. There is no sea in the Underworld.”

  Theo and his colleagues had a duty to register everyone who traveled between the Underworld and the Surface. That was an order for the Kings’ Alliance. It was done to monitor people’s mobility. The people of Tartas—

  There was knocking in the door. It was slow but there was a sense of urgency. Their attention was moved simultaneously.

  “I think my friends have come,” Datan put away the medical tools as he stood up. “Let me open it.”

  In front of the door, Irirana looked down, staring at the tip of her boots. Her hands were on her waist as she tapped her feet worriedly. Next to her, Kanas crossed his arms tensely as he saw Datan.

  “Hi,” Datan greeted.

  Irirana approached her, looking guilty. He hugged him and uttered her condolences.

  Inside, Irirana and Kanas introduced themselves to Theo. They apologized for making a fuss. Theo welcomed them cheerily, though. He said he was happy to welcome guests from a distant land, which he rarely had. Theo hurriedly served them some cookies with mango jam and a pot of jasmine tea. In the meantime, the three Royans were tending their wounds with the available medicine.

  None of them use Cercila syringes.

  Theo excused himself from the living room after lighting up the fireplace to chase away the cold air. He walked into his room to give the guests enough privacy to talk about their matter.

  Kanas said Irirana predicted where Datan was. Also, they were helped by the word in the village about a man falling from the sky. They said the man was helped by Theo. Datan smiled sadly hearing it. Irirana also said that they had found Father and that Kanas had moved his body to a safe place on a stone table.

  Datan told them about Father’s death. He sounded nasally and gloomy. His hand was holding a small spoon, stirring his tea nonstop. Irirana quieted, listening.

  “I didn’t know that your father is an El Essa,” Kanas said sympathetically, once in a while glanced at Irirana who busied herself with the tear in her night attire around the ribs. “The possibility that he had been enchanted was small. Even so, I checked him anyway. His ankle didn’t darken. So, no. he wasn’t under the influence of magic.”

  Datan was dumbfounded. Then why did Father followed Nymeria’s words?

  “Did he show weird symptoms? Like perhaps complaining about buzzing in his ears? Bitter tongue?”

  Datan shook his head. He did not find anything particularly peculiar with Father—except the fact that he ignored him. Datan added that Father caught the same plague as Tannu, Guma and Tormera citizen. Datan was sure they realized it. He proceeded to tell another devastating news. Datan carefully told them about his vision. About Sami’s death.

  Kanas’ neck tensed, his veins popped up as he heard that.

  “Ever since Kanas took me out of the house, I knew Sami had passed away,” Irirana shed a tear. “But that brutally?” she shook her head in guilt. “Sami always told me before he left for a mission. He’s really close with Filia. They talk a lot about plants.”

  “I’m so sorry, Irirana.”

  Kanas sighed. “This woman. Nymeria. What did you get from her, pan? Who is she?”

  Datan felt his heart raced. Should he tell them everything? Should he trust Nymeria? He took one piece of Theo’s babag that he purposefully left on the table. He smoked it, enjoying it for a moment. That was the first babag he had after his right arm was healed. The divine pleasure it gave multiplied.

  Datan thought that was weird, stupid even.

  But he decided to lie. He said that he did not manage to find out who she was. “That nasty woman,” he made himself sound agitated. “She went silent the moment she got back the Zu stone and told my father to jump to his demise.”

  ◆◆◆

  Datan told them that he would take a break from doing missions as a Royan.

  He would haunt Nymeria to avenge Father and to find out what was actually happening in the Surface. Kanas did not comment on that. While Irirana looked burdened and tense. When Irirana asked if Datan knew where Nymeria could be, Datan shook his head. But he could not keep waiting. He admitted his plan to hunt Jasin and Antal to Eglak in the Underworld to track Nymeria.

  “No,” Irirana denied sternly. “That’s a stupid decision. It’s too dangerous, Datan. Eglak is not a playground. The Underworld is a chaotic place.”

  Datan did not say anything as he stared at her. Then, he looked at Malika. His thumb brushed the surface of the smooth quir with a blazing red engraving of veins deep inside. That was all he had left from Father. Irirana gulped, coming to an understanding.

  Datan would never change his mind.

  “If you’re set on that,” Irirana offered. “I knew details about the Underworld.”

  Kanas nearly chewed the tip of the pipe in between his lips. Yes, he was smoking orange tasted tobacco in a pipe he always carried around as a mouth fresher, in case he ran out of blood orange. Before Datan said anything, Kanas spurted blatantly that he rejected the Kahisar’s plan. He thought that not only he, but also Benji, Petan and Filia, or everyone in Yardara would not approve Irirana going to the Underworld.

  “You have a responsibility that you shouldn’t abandon, Lady,” Kanas reminded.

  “He’s right,” Datan added.

  “But—”

  “Irirana, please.”

  “I should be the one going with Datan to Eglak,” Kanas said.

  Datan was taken aback. “I’m touched,” he said seriously. “But no, I don’t think you should. I need to do it on my own. I’ll report any information I got and I’ll call for help if I need any.”

  “How, Datan?” Irirana reprimanded. “You’ve never been to the Underworld.”

  “There should at least be a post office, right? The point is, sooner or later I’ll find a way.”


  ◆◆◆

  Night bugs were singing like a choir in the backyard.

  On an old wool carpet, Kanas slept ahead to restore his energy and mind state. Theo has already snored loudly in his room. After smoking babag, Datan decided to approach Irirana who was sitting on her own.

  Irirana had not slept. She was staring at a bundle of hair of a Marra person in her slender hand. That length was at least ten centimeters. The color was a gradation between brown and fiery red like it had been oiled. Datan could even smelt the scent of red seagrass from it.

  Datan stared at her, wondering what she was thinking. Whose hair was that? He sat on a long bench made of carved stone, right next to her.

  “How do you feel?” he asked.

  “I’m worried about you.”

  Datan smiled weakly. He moved his gaze to the street beyond the fence that marked the border of the yard. He breathed in silence, feeling the cave air filled his lungs. Sneakily, he also took in the scent of vanilla from Irirana, which always made him calm.

  Irirana looked at Datan from the side. Closely. There was curiosity deep in those clear bronze eyes. She wanted to know what Datan felt as well. Yet, instead of asking, she chose to stay quiet. She understood that Datan was more overwhelmed than herself. And that Datan did not want to discuss complicated and sensitive matter especially concerning his problem right now.

  “You’re still planning to lock me up?” Datan laughed dryly.

  “The Underworld is a merciless place, Datan,” Irirana was not laughing. She put the hair back to her pocket. “People of Tartas didn’t care about people from the Surface. You’re on your own down there. If something happened to you… I wouldn’t be able to help.”

  “Trust me, Irirana. I’ll be alright.”

  The sound of the bushes brushed by the wind filled in the silence between them. The night breeze was blown from the opening of the cave up there, reaching the bottom of the valley with the smell of wet soil, sweeping the trees and grass in the backyard. Those wind felt like a sign of a coming downpour.

  “Alright,” Irirana said finally. “I trust you.”

  Irirana talked a little about the journey toward the Underworld.

  She told him that the immunity of the League of Royans did not apply there, about the Underworld that was beyond the authority of the Kings’ Alliance, about the night attire that would not work. Also, she told him about the harsh weather, disgusting food, and gigantic creatures, not to mention most Tartas people hated visitors from the Surface.

  Datan nodded, processing the information. “I understand,” he concluded.

  ◆◆◆

  With the help of Theo and his friends, Datan buried Father’s body the next day in a small cemetery in the village. Blue light candles surrounded the grave, and they put a tombstone as a marking. Datan put one lily on the grave.

  “How are you doing, Father? Will you actually come back to life?” Datan got teary out of his control. His right hand clutched tight the brooch of laughing mask that belonged to Nymeria which Kanas found on top of Father’s body. “If so, I’ll wait for you. I hope we can see each other again.”

  In the house. Datan told Theo about his plan to go to the Underworld. He wanted to go to Eglak and asked Theo to open the door for him. Theo seemed to figure this out already.

  “The life is harsh down there, Datan.”

  “You’ve been there?”

  “Only for a week in Anun. I cannot stay longer.”

  After packing all the things he might need, Datan decided to depart. In the same afternoon, Theo led Datan and his friends to a small street that was oddly farther away from the Osberga Door. They stopped in the corner of the cave next to one of the waterfalls. There was an iron door with an oval glass window that was sealed by a steel lock. A layer of rusty yellow had overtaken the lower part of the door.

  There was a security post made of stone next to the door. A man leaned out half of his body from the window, greeting them.

  “New friends, Theo?” he asked.

  “You can say that, Fikk. Please register this young man,” Theo looked at Datan.

  “Datan, right?”

  “You know my name?”

  “We have ears everywhere. We are a curious bunch. Especially about a red-skinned Ingran young man that fell from the sky.”

  Datan fake a smirk, irritated.

  Kanas laughed so hard that everyone could see the inside of his mouth. Fikk invited Datan to come into the post which had only one small room with minimalistic furniture. He allowed Datan to sit. The man with the silver hair took out a thick book and a chalice with needles for his thumb from a drawer, it resembled Halta’s.

  “I want to go to Eglak.”

  “Just yesterday there were two people going to Eglak,” Fikk responded, flipping the pages of the book and read the last name in the list.

  “You knew them?”

  “Only their name and face. It wasn’t their first trip to the Underworld.”

  “I need to find them.”

  “You’d better be careful, fella. I don’t think they’re nice men.”

  The procedure was similar to the one Datan went through when he applied to join the League of Royans. Blood fingerprint was important as one’s identity. Using the Book Register, Fikk explained that he could see anyone getting in or out of the other seven doors spread all over the world, they were connected through some kind of bonding magic.

  It was needed to be done to monitor the people who traveled. The data would still be recorded even if someone entered through one door and came out of another. After writing some notes, Fikk gave him a scroll of a map of the Underworld and a little advice for Datan, and finally, the bureaucracy was done.

  Fikk led Datan to the door. He was busy to look for a key out a group keys he took from his pocket. Meanwhile, Datan got confused.

  “I thought I’ll go through the Osberga Door,” Datan said. “I want to go to Eglak, Fikk, not locking myself inside a cave.”

  Fikk glared, crooking an eyebrow. He ignored Datan and kept his focus to open the locked door with the steel keys he had. “Hold on… just a moment…” he muttered, not hearing Datan’s words clearly, apparently. A harsh crack was heard. Fikk managed to open the first lock, then he moved to another one.

  “This is your problem. The ignorant people of the Surface,” Theo spoke up. “This door, well, the road beyond it, I mean, is the one used to access the Underworld for thousands of years. This is the one dug by Osberga Sattin in his journey to find the Underworld.”

  Datan’s eyes widened in awe, the hair in his nape stood as he remembered Nymeria, and what she said about the Darkness Gate.

  “For Unum,” Kanas was astonished as well. “What do you mean, Theo, pan?”

  Irirana tensed. She bit her lips, clutching her sweaty palms.

  “Do they lie to you up there? Since Osberga Sattin found it,” Theo looked at the gigantic looming door with ninety nice cravings of golden symbols at the summit of the cave. “…and named it as he likes, The Osberga Door has never been opened, not even once.

  “Whoever going in or out of the Underworld, even the Kings, will have to go through this kind of door, in any part of the world,” Theo threw a glance at Irirana, who turned pale like she was thinking of something terrifying.

  “Oh, the surprise keeps coming. The door was built in the wall of Black Diorit, a frozen stone harder than any steel. One cannot bore a hole through. So, yeah. No one, fellas. No one, until this date, knew who built that door, and why, or what is beyond it.”

  “This is not good news, Datan,” Irirana said seriously.

  “I’ll call for help if I need one. Don’t worry, Irirana.”

  With all of his might, Fikk finally managed to open the iron door. The hinge made a high-pitch squeak as a gush of damp warm air hit them from the inside. It revealed a dim tunnel stretched out with a row of torches in one side of the wall.

  “Sorry for the wait. The lock was broken,” Fikk complain
ed, wiping the sweat in his forehead. “Now, off you go, Datan.”

  Datan hugged Irirana tight. For the first time, he felt that he would miss her.

  “You must return,” Irirana starred at him, hopeful. “Write to me when you can.”

  “I understand.”

  Kanas gave him a hug as well, patting his back with a fist. His expression looked conflicted, happy yet alarmed. “Be careful, Datan,” he said.

  “Will do.”

  “Stay alert, Son,” Theo reminded him as Datan hugged him. He whispered, “And hide your necklace from people down there.”

  Datan looked at him questioningly, narrowing his eyes. Nevertheless, he nodded obediently. “I’ll remember that,” he said. “Thanks, Theo.”

  Then, he shook Fikk’s hand.

  “Thank you.” Datan looked at the others for the last time, slightly waving. “I believe we’ll see each other again.”

  And so, Datan turned around, walking toward the stale tunnels that went lower as it went on. The door was slammed behind him. Datan Woudward walked tall, unafraid as he welcomed his new journey to the Underworld.

  ~To be continue~

  Acknowledgement

  With this, I want to say thank you to both of my parents, who are so kind to allow me to stay with them for years when I didn't have any income. To my beloved mother, Anna Mailani, who has always been patient when dealing with my stubbornness. To Rakhmi Permatasari, the first friend of mine that was interested in my ideas. To Ratna Kusuma, who also gave me wonderful advice about how to write. I wrote really badly that time, and even now, I still try to write better.

  I also want to say thank you to my friend, Bobby Bircham, who let me stay in his house and provided me some food when I was far from home. It was a thrilling experience, though. Thank you for Krisna Ismayanto, for lending me money to print the early edition of The Three Realms. Thanks to Srikasih Febriyanti, for the layout and design.

  Thank you Ayudya Ariana, who is so kind that she never gets tired to be my beta reader. To my extraordinary editor, Sevy Kusdianita, if it isn't because of her courage, maybe The Three Realms won't be published until now. Thank you Ryn Yoanta for the dedication, finesse, and patience to draw the illustration of The Three Realms really well.