Sengkolo’s wide marching rhythm resonated between the golden-hued basalts that formed the large hallway. The crimson rug beneath him did little to suppress the clamor kicked by his steel boots. Officials who found themselves on his path voluntarily moved aside. Some waved to the general, some just gazed impassively. Sengkolo tried to return the welcoming gesture sent to him as best as he could.

At the center of the Grand Joglo was a tall circular stage. The icon of the Almighty Three, made out of pure gold and smelted by the best of smelters, eyed every official from the vantage point. It was surrounded by five pedestals. Each of them carried the symbol of the Great Houses.

Great House Pendhopo was symbolized by a scale with a squeezed triangular roof on its top. Great House Pringgitan had a mythical crustacean giant of Mananggal — Patih Lawu — engraved on a kite shield as their symbol. Great House Pawon was represented by a stalk of beanrice and puffbranch standing on top of a stove. The symbol of Great House Langgar was three incense bowls with their base touching each other. Meanwhile, Great House Dalem chose an alternating pattern of scrolls to represent them.

Sengkolo made the gesture before the icon of the Almighty Three. In front of the door leading to the Parliament Hall, two security officers armed with non-lethal blunt weapons greeted him. Sengkolo gave his hand. The officers traded awkward looks before smiling and shook it.

All eyes turned on him as he entered. A speech was ongoing; the speaker stood on the teak podium opposite the half-spherical amphitheater. Sengkolo took the steps nearest to him and marched to the back. He navigated to the column of seats behind his House Councilors, whom he had selected based on their willingness to advance his interest. But his interest was the people’s interest, so it was a service for the greater good.

Sengkolo took off his helmet and put it on the brass-edged teak table before him. The table’s top is as thick as his hands. Extruded carving of leaves and flowers gave its side a unique look that Sengkolo liked to fidget with. He looked around the chamber and noticed that some De-Wan was looking at him. He glared at them one by one until they cast their attention back to the speaker.

Sengkolo sat down and shook hands with the Danker beside him. “All good, sir?” Sengkolo said, half-smiling. He suppressed his voice as much as possible so as not to distract the hearing.

“It has been worse,” the De-Wan beside him said.

Sengkolo gave a thumbs up. The Almighty Three icon etched on the podium was enveloped by a single crescent. The brass outline was a perfect match to the dark-colored teak that made up the podium. The embossed carving on the riser depicted Dankers of all kinds: farmers, builders, hunters, soldiers, scholars, statesmen, and eventually the Sultan.

“Beanrice price rises again.”

“I noticed that Mr. Mulyo,” Sengkolo said.

“You have to stop those Pringgitans.”

“But you can’t fight with your stomach empty, can you?”

De-Wan Mulyo Nganti Minggat Sadoyo leaned closer to Sengkolo. “I get that this has to do with frontline supplies. My analyst reported that they were seizing a third of our total harvest last season. This is something that can’t be tolerated for a long time. Their price would become unaffordable.”

Sengkolo squinted at Mulyo, studying him.

“You can’t just let members of Great House Pringgitan in the PNS do whatever they want because they are holding off our enemy,” Mulyo said. “You should have known that holding Firdha Ridge is a collective effort. It just happened that the majority of those soldiers were members of the Great House, and the margin isn’t even great: just slightly more than half of the whole army.”

Sengkolo brought his leather-covered notebook to the table. He wrote down what Mulyo had said to him with the quill that he carried in his satchel. Sengkolo knew that Mulyo despised Great House Pringgitan, to begin with. He could be exaggerating this issue just to strike at the Great House.

“I’ll talk about this later with Santoso,” Sengkolo said.

Mulyo nodded at him. “I appreciate your thoughtfulness, Mr. Sengkolo,”

The speaker was Paripurno Ra Tau Parno, the Lord De-Wan. He ended his speech with a mallet knock. Sengkolo watched as the Danker withdrew to his seat. Paripurno briefly turned his gaze toward Sengkolo. He only nodded with his lips flattened. Sengkolo had been so immersed in his thoughts that he missed the speech.

“Can you reiterate briefly what he said?” Sengkolo said to Mulyo.

“The recent trading regulation failed to stop Imperial traders from smuggling raw resources from Mananggal, Great House Dalem requested a loan from the treasury for ‘research purposes’, Great House Langgar pushed for a conversion as a requirement for citizenship, and the Sultan demanded to double the garrison to combat the increasing abduction by our enemy.”

“Anything else from Great House Pringgitan?”

Mulyo shrugged. “The usual: manpower shortages.”

Great House Pringgitan liked to think that there were no other factions in Mananggal able to grow pious servants of the Sultanate better than them. Although the Grandmaster of the Great House would love more members for his Great House, Santoso had never seen this as an issue.

One of the De-Wan stood up at a breakneck speed. His name was Priyadi Puri Griya Padi.

“Permission to speak, My Lord,” he said, saluting Paripurno.

“Granted,” Paripurno said.

“The speech I am about to deliver has nothing to do with the conversation that we had planned for today, but I’m confident that the urgency outweighs the points that you have stated.”

“The stage is yours, Mr. Priyadi,”

Priyadi then opened the bundle of papers on his table. “Thank you, My Lord. As you may have seen, I am the only representative from Kanan Tusk in this session,” he said.

Sengkolo studied the empty seats all around the De-Wan.

“This attendance failure, however, isn’t without a cause. They are all on their way to the province to oversee matters that had just transpired a week ago.” Priyadi paused to look at the audience in the De-Wan Hall. “Gethuk Gun attacks on Ma-Listya.”

Priyadi’s last sentence sent a wave of shock throughout the chamber. Everyone who was leisurely paying attention to him suddenly leaned forward, Sengkolo included.

A Councilor of Great House Pendhopo, Madya Mangun Dulur Nganti Raya, raised his hand and asked for permission to speak.

“We should have heard about it four to five days ago,” he said as soon as he was granted the permission to speak.

“Why yes, Mr. Madya,” Priyadi said. “I am also perplexed at the slow report by our journalists. We, however, have raised suspicion that our enemy had something to do with the delayed report. Local civil forces have been investigating the matters for days now since the suspicion was raised. I propose we bolster Ma-Listya’s security with additional PNS legions.”

As with every matter regarding defenses, everyone turned their attention toward Sengkolo. He frowned as the bright-amber eyes of his people searched him for answers. Why was there no report from the garrison stationed at Ma-Listya? He should have gotten a Resonance from the PNS legion responsible for the city’s defense. His aide would’ve filled him in on that if he missed it.

Sengkolo studied Priyadi with the utmost suspicion. It wasn’t a day without anyone trying to mess with the reputation that he had built for himself for decades. Gethuk Guns were as big as the stage of the Parliament Hall that looked over a thousand De-Wan. It was unlikely that his scouts missed them.

Sengkolo stood up once he was granted the permission to speak.

“The four legions stationed in the region have not reported any sort of attacks in the capital of Kanan Tusk,” he said.

A Councilor of Great House Pringgitan asked for permission to speak. His name was Handono Andhuke Dowo Ber Kencono.

“This ineptitude of the PNS justifies our member expansion. We refrain from concealing information crucial to the state, and anything we get our hands on will always be done.”

Mulyo stood up immediately and asked for permission to speak. “False claim,” he said with conviction. “You keep neglecting to answer the whereabouts of the beanrice harvest this season. You know? The ones that your thugs kept on stealing?”

“I’m not sure about what you are saying,” Handono said. “I’ve told you many times that they’re in good hands.”

“Hands that starve people should not be considered good hands,” Mulyo said.

It looked like Mulyo was about to add something to the point he was making. Sengkolo’s grip on his left shoulder prevented that. He gave him a stare that eventually denied Mulyo his opportunity to elaborate further. The De-Wan then sat down.

“With due respect, Mr. Handono,” Sengkolo said. “I can’t allow you to discredit my soldiers. You don’t have to be a member of Great House Pringgitan to serve Makmu Sultanate with complete loyalty.”

“But a member of Great House Pringgitan does it better.”

“Better in what, exactly?” Madya said to Handono. “You always brag about repelling enemy operations again and again. Now tell me, how did soldiers of Great House Thong manage to get their guns within range of Ma-Listya? It seems to me that you’re not doing your job as well as you’re telling us.”

“Mr. Madya,” Handono said, turning toward the Councilor of Great House Pendhopo. “The Gethuk Guns were able to slip through our watch because our warriors in Fort Nelongso are lacking in numbers.”

Paripurno raised his hand. He gestured for the Councilors to stop arguing and let Sengkolo continue his dialogue with Priyadi.

“Mr. Sengkolo,” Paripurno said. “Perhaps you have any suggestions regarding these alleged Gethuk Gun attacks in Ma-Listya?”

“My apology, Mr. Paripurno,” Priyadi said, sounding irritated. “These are not allegations. The reports are true. The Wankers are at our gates.”

“I will raise a new PNS legion for your cause,” Sengkolo said.

“And let the people of Ma-Listya live under terror and bombardment for months?” Priyadi said with a frown on his face.

“Can you explain then why my soldiers didn’t send any report at the advent of the attack?”

“Your soldiers did try to contact you, but the Resonance kept on failing. They had to resort to couriers after three days of fruitless attempts.”

In the silence of Sengkolo’s perplexion, Paripurno took the opportunity to speak.

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“Mr. Sengkolo, perhaps you’ve missed the Resonance from the legions stationed there?”

“My aide has never missed anything,” Sengkolo said. “She always updates me on every matter I missed, and I haven’t heard from her regarding this issue.” Sengkolo then turned his attention to Priyadi. “I will send an investigation party to confirm these ‘attacks’.”

“The legions, Mr. Sengkolo,” Priyadi said. “We need them now.”

“I look forward to rectifying the situation as much as you do, but I will do so without sacrificing our attrition against Great House Thong,” Sengkolo said. “Full stop.”

Paripurno repeatedly switched his attention from Sengkolo to Priyadi in the silence. “Anything else, Mr Sengkolo, Mr. Priyadi?”

“No, My Lord,” Priyadi said.

Sengkolo nodded to Priyadi and the Lord De-Wan.

“I will entrust this matter to Mr. Sengkolo,” Paripurno said. “He will be responsible for subverting this emergency and providing us with every detail of development regarding the situation, as is his responsibility as the Commander-in-Chief of the PNS.” Paripurno ended his statement with a mallet.

“On to the next issue,” he said thereafter.

***

The Prophet’s advice of sailing in small groups led to the scattered ancestral hubs all across Mananggal. For decades, they lived in isolated groups under the mercy of the tree people. The Prophet connected all of his scattered followers along the shores, but at that point, they had already formed a strong attachment toward their respective groups. Supplementary sources suggested that the formation of this kinship was a result of the frequent intrusion by the beasts of the island continent. Some of the groups were content with living from land to land, while some decided to settle with their newfound agricultural methods. The former was labeled as ‘The Wanderers’, while the latter established kinship-based dominions which we now know today as the Great Houses.

Sengkolo cleared his throat and took a sip of his now cold beverage. He paused briefly from his reading to stretch his body which had been practically crumpled after sitting all day.

Among the ancestors who had settled were those who earned the favor of the tree people, and were thus given plenty and various boons. It was no wonder how House Thong became the first Great House that ruled over Mananggal. Some were kind enough to pick up refugees from the warring states of men in the central Hag-Elslag, during their sail to Mananggal. When the Wei Han Empire was established, these groups became the gate for their presence on the island continent. The mutual accommodation secured the rise of Great House Pendhopo.

The other present-day Great Houses didn’t emerge until centuries later. Great House Pringgitan was formed next as a confederation between smaller Houses that strived to protect ancestral traditions. When a demand by an internal group within Great House Pringgitan to extend the protection so that they involve the behaviors and routines of the Prophet Gajah Salto was denied, this group seceded from the Great House and became House Langgar. The rise of Great House Langgar could be attributed to the support from Great House Pendhopo and Great House Thong, which secured their position from Great House Pringgitan and allowed their growth. House Pawon was perhaps the only House that attained the status of Great House without any external support. It explained their slow expansion during the Dawn of Houses. House Dalem was the last to emerge. Starting as a coalition of mages who owned lands in Abi Prairie, their constant exports of competent intellectuals and spellcasters to the other Great Houses helped them become a Great House.

Sengkolo picked up the quill beside the book that he was reading and crossed the two paragraphs. He marked them with a number. In his notebook, Sengkolo wrote down the number that he marked the paragraphs with and began writing:

During the Dawn of Houses, House Pawon, with its generous and innovative business practices, was able to fuel many beneficial projects that also favored the beneficiary. This became the foundation of their mutual relationship with every ancestral hub in the region, which later confederated and together became Great House Pawon. Great House Pringgitan took form about a decade later as a confederation between smaller Houses that strived to protect ancestral traditions. A group within the Great House sought to also preserve the teachings, behaviors, and routines of the Prophet. This group became House Langgar which then seceded from Great House Pringgitan. The peaceful secession could be attributed to Great House Pawon who successfully mediated their disputes. The accommodation by Great House Pawon secured the path of House Langgar into becoming a Great House.

As the wisdom of nature was rapidly growing in demand, the intellectuals between the three Great Houses banded together and formed House Dalem. Great House Pawon, Pringgitan, and Langgar at first were skeptical of this project. However, upon seeing the competence of the mages and spellcasters that House Dalem exported, the three Great Houses agreed to support House Dalem until they became a Great House.

House Thong had earned the support of the tree people. However, these supports didn’t sit well with the people in general. Hence their growth was slow and their pace at gaining followers is no greater than a bleeding nyambek. The rise of House Pendhopo into a Great House was still a topic for debate. In the period of the Dawn of Houses, the warring states of men had just recently unified into a single ruling entity, the Wei Han Empire. Though they looked after their refugees abroad, their still existent internal strife had prevented them from fully committing their resources beyond their dominion. It was not until centuries later that the tendrils of the Empire nurtured the House into becoming Great House Pendhopo.

Sengkolo’s tickslate indicated that it was already late. He set the quill down and shut the inkwell. Sengkolo put the book back in his pack and his notebook in his satchel. He pulled a cord that blocked the stream of Tjakra into the encased crystal that hung from the ceiling, shutting off its glow.

The female receptionist waved as Sengkolo passed by. He replied like usual, a nod with a half-smile. He left his nyambek in the inn’s stable as he trekked through the High Districts of Nur-Fadhil.

The paved streets were as clean as an offspring who just came out of a womb. Decorative trees, bushes, marble pedestals, and statues were arranged in a way that wasn’t only aesthetically pleasing, but also provided convenience in navigating through the complex of luxurious villas and manors.

The frame of Paripurno’s manor resembled a couple of small mesas with bulging tops and sides stitched together. Sengkolo remembered the time he gave it as a gift for winning the Lord De-Wan position. Paripurno paid with his allegiance. Sengkolo wondered what sort of talents were needed to interpolate sections of a giant creature’s exoskeleton into a functioning shelter.

The manor’s dark gold walls blended well with the peanut-colored frame. Their coarse texture gave off the atmosphere of Mount Wardhana’s ashes. The stones that made up the walls were cleverly cut in an attempt to mimic the shape of the creature. Polished ironwoods formed a distinct outline that preserved the natural feel of Paripurno’s slanted manor. Translucent emerald windows complemented the building’s design.

Sengkolo marched through the lawn and knocked on the door. When Paripurno opened it, nothing was exchanged except indifferent gazes. The Lord De-Wan briefly looked over his shoulder.

“Give me a moment,” he said.

Paripurno opened the door wide once he returned and gestured for Sengkolo to enter. He then locked the door, thrice.

“Have you had dinner?”

“You’re too kind, Purno,” Sengkolo said warmly.

“That’s too bad.” Paripurno gestured for Sengkolo to sit down on the guest room couch. “It’s kun skimmer for tonight’s dinner.”

Sengkolo’s mouth watered upon hearing that, but he managed to not show it and kept his composure.

“Your lovely little ones probably want a second round for breakfast,” Sengkolo said after he sat down.

Paripurno chuckled. “Kitchen is that way.” He pointed with his right hand. “You still remember right?”

“I’m a soldier, you know,” Sengkolo said, smirking. “A droplet from your bathtub is enough to feed me for a week.”

Both of them laughed. Paripurno sat across from Sengkolo. Between them was an elliptic table made out of teak. The top was encased with a translucent emerald screen. Below that screen was a relief depicting Patih Lawu on top of tendrils that encircled the creature. The wheel-shaped brass chandelier that hung from the ceiling was crowded with silver and pearly ornaments. The frilly silk carpet below Sengkolo’s feet had alternating colors of dark crimson to light beige. The carpet’s meticulous motifs of vines, leaves, flowers, and mushrooms gave identity to the whole guest room. The magenta couch Sengkolo sat on was softer than his bed at the inn. It had cylindrical armrests and was decorated with several carvings of fruit on its frame.

“Alright so…” Paripurno cleared his throat. “Is this going to be about today’s meeting?”

Sengkolo shook his head and leaned closer. “Are you sure your family is asleep?”

Paripurno stood up and checked again. He returned less than a minute later.

“Go ahead,” Paripurno said.

Despite knowing each other for decades, this was only the third time Sengkolo visited Paripurno’s house personally. He had always been communicating with the eighty-two-year-old Lord De-Wan through a third party.

Sengkolo whispered. “Prepare to appoint me as the Pandhawa.”

Silence reverberated across the guest room. Sengkolo saw Paripurno blink at least six times consecutively.

“Bold statement,” the Lord De-Wan said, frowning. “Don’t tell me you are behind those shenanigans in Ma-Listya.”

“To stir up emergencies?” Sengkolo shook his head. “We already have too much for that.”

“Wouldn’t that help justify the rise of a Pandhawa?”

“It was…too petty to be my play.”

Paripurno closed his mouth as he yawned. “What do you plan to do though, old friend? It’s not that people wouldn’t accept another Pandhawa. It’s why they have to choose you as a Pandhawa.”

Since there was only one Pandhawa ever in the Makmu Sultanate, a lot of people considered the title to be sacred. Some even deemed the appointment of another Pandhawa a blasphemy. It was as if the title was equal to a prophetic leader sent down from the heavens where the Almighty Three settled to lead the Dankers.

“Purno,” Sengkolo said gently. “You would choose me as a Pandhawa, wouldn’t you?”

Paripurno sighed and rubbed his forehead. “I don’t see any other worthy candidate. Mr. Santoso was quick to anger and hard to forgive. Mr. Sulistyo was a genius and powerful, but he was unpopular. I’m left with no other choice here.”

“That’s why I said prepare, Purno,” Sengkolo said. “The expedition team I sent had reached Mount Wardhana.”

Paripurno’s face tightened. “They did?”

“They did. There had been no major attack on our defenses in Firdha Ridge for the past ten years. I sent those brave men and women to see what those wretched Great House Thong were up to.”

“And?”

“Their investigation is still in progress. I refuse to stay idle while they risk their lives in the heart of our enemy. Whatever they will find down there, I want everyone to be ready for it.”

Paripurno looked at him silently.

“Do you understand now why I need the title? I am certain that those Wankers are brewing something malicious down there. We have to act swiftly to bring an end to it.”

A Pandhawa had legal immunity and full control of the Sultanate. They were allowed, expected even, to commit unorthodox measures if it meant ending the crisis. It was the freedom that Sengkolo exactly needed to take down Great House Thong once and for all.

Paripurno gestured at him. “I hope you’re aware that you’re not alone in this fight. You think the situation is terrible, but I feel like you’re overexerting yourself on this matter. I think you could still negotiate with the other bodies of the Sultanate to have things your way without the title. Mangkuprawan V doesn’t really care anyway.”

Sengkolo clenched his fists and frowned. How could one not overexert themselves when their home was in danger? The ancestors fought tooth and nail to secure Mananggal, and they were just giving it away to the enemy. How disrespectful. Paripurno was the last person Sengkolo expected to exhibit this behavior.

Sengkolo saw the Lord De-Wan flinch. There was a candle holder with an active candle standing on a brass-framed drawer to his left. On the wall hung a painting of Paripurno, his wife, and three female Dankers in adolescence. He thought of holding that candle dangerously close to the painting, reminding Paripurno of the person who had helped him become Lord De-Wan in the first place.

Sengkolo inhaled deeply.

“Mr. Sengkolo?” Paripurno said, trying to calm Sengkolo down.

“I’m sorry,” Sengkolo said. “I’m sorry.”

There were only a few people that Sengkolo could rely on. It was easy for him to see that he was alone against Great House Thong.

Paripurno grabbed two mugs full of water and gave one to Sengkolo. The general was at first reluctant to accept it, but a little shove from the Lord De-Wan fixed that. Sengkolo emptied the contents of the mug in one go. He took a deep breath.

“You’re exhausted, my friend,” Paripurno said.

“You don’t say!” Sengkolo said, accidentally raising his tone. “Everyone wants me to end the war as soon as possible, but no one wants to do what it takes. If our ancestors behaved like this, then the Sultanate wouldn’t even exist!” Sengkolo rubbed his forehead. “When will people understand that our good times have passed? This time, they have to prioritize what the state needs over what they want.”

Paripurno remained silent.

Sengkolo could retire if he wanted to and escaped with what was left of his family elsewhere in Hag-Elslag. He had to protect his people, even though he hated them as much as he loved them. It was the duty of a leader, as mentioned in the Kawi. Prophet Gajah Salto had journeyed across the island continent to unite the scattered Dankers, while Mangkuprawan I had established the Sultanate to create a haven for them. Sengkolo wished to be among their ranks in the Eternal Garden.

“I’ll do my best to help,” Paripurno said, finally. “If you had to be a Pandhawa, I’ll ensure that the process only took a single mallet slam.” The Lord De-Wan smiled at Sengkolo.

Sengkolo briefly studied the Lord De-Wan.

“May Vahsani bless your trustworthiness,” Sengkolo said. A little smirk formed on his face.