Sliced amur mushrooms and yama leaves spun in a pot suspended above a fire. Wati poured a bowl of antan powder and stirred the mix. She then sprinkled diced loops of adbawan when the broth’s liquid became pale brown. The saliva-inducing smell drifted toward Wati’s face, rejuvenating her spirit after the one-month-long march to Nadin Strip.

“I’m concerned.” Wati heard one of her colleagues speak behind her, but she was too busy with her cooking.

“Let her,” Aryo said to him.

Wati looked over her shoulder, toward Aryo. He sat on a short wooden stool with two other peers who were looking at her too. His smile brightened his face. Words couldn’t describe how eager she was to have him taste the new recipe she had just learned several days ago. Wati was certain that he would love it.

The dusk sky was clear with only hints of Mount Wardhana’s ashes. A hot amur soup was just the thing she needed to combat the cold night air that filled Wati’s lungs. The Great Transformation had made the Dankers’ skin a little more susceptible to cold.

Wati used a spoon to taste a small portion of the soup. The warm savory liquid gave a sweet sensation indicative of proficiency. It took a special kind of talent to pull it off on the first try. She was unsure whether she made it taste exactly like the recipe, but the one that she had made matched her preference.

“Alright boys, it’s ready,” Wati said.

Hartono, Marno, and Aryo lined up behind her. They took off their helmet and flipped it. Hartono was the first in line.

Wati smirked. “Concerned, huh?”

“Well, I prefer not to starve,” he said, flashing his eyebrows.

Wati poured three ladles into Hartono’s helmet. Sliced amur and diced vegetables fell from the ladle in a waterfall of pale-brown liquid. The fumes drifted through Hartono’s face. Wati was amused seeing Hartono flatten his lips over it. The whole Klethek Sea must have formed inside his mouth.

Marno was next in line. He was silent when Wati poured the soup into his helmet, but his face clearly showed intrigue. He looked hesitant at the same time to receive a dinner cooked by his senior.

“Thank you, mum,” Marno said.

Wati looked at him awkwardly. “I’m only twenty-five,” she said.

Marno shrugged. “That’s still seven years older than me.”

“I don’t look that old, do I?”

“I-I will pass on this question.” Marno immediately walked to where Hartono was sitting.

Aryo was next. “Yes, you are,” he said, smirking as he gave his helmet.

Wati raised her eyebrow and briefly stared at his face. She withdrew her ladle and put a lid on top of the cooking pot.

“Compliment me first,” Wati said.

Aryo looked at Wati with a face that said ‘Seriously?’. He then stood up and turned to Hartono and Marno.

“Any of you mind sharing?” Aryo said.

Wati stood up and resolutely pinched Aryo’s pointy left ear. Aryo flinched as Wati dragged him back down with her.

“You’re getting food only from me!” Wati said as she sat back on her stool.

“Okay, okay…” Aryo said. “Can I at least have a little taste of your cooking first?”

Wati smiled. She scooped a small portion with a spoon and gently shoved it in front of Aryo’s mouth.

“Open up…”

Aryo sighed and took the spoon in his mouth. Wati excitedly watched his mouth gently chewing the soup. Her entire body twitched waiting for his response.

“You said you want to see what’s within those Great Houses’ Cantons in the capital right?” Aryo said after he swallowed the contents of the spoon. “Consider becoming their cook.”

Wati knew that he would answer positively, but that still didn’t stop her arms from shaking in joy. She gave her hands while tilting her head.

“Thank you,” she said.

Wati also poured three ladles into Aryo’s helmet. She then poured the soup for herself and moved to sit with the rest of her squad. Hartono and Marno hadn’t begun yet. Wati led the pre-meal prayer. She locked her hands in front of her chest. She thanked Them for still giving her proper meals every day. She thanked Them for providing a person like Aryo who always gave her company.

“Praise The Three…The Holy…The Almighty,” the four soldiers said.

They raised their hands and mimicked the shape of a bud on their forehead. They then crossed their arms on their chest before closing their fingers. Their right hand moved along a straight line toward their shoulder. Their left hand made the same motion at the same time. They then touched their closed fingers to the tip of their shoulders.

Wati looked around while she chewed her meal. The citadel of Fort Ndelosor scraped the darkening sky. The squad across from them was brewing their dinner like they did. A non-commissioned officer down the camp aisle was hosting a grill party with his men. Skewered domroll meat hung above the fire that warmed their tents. Their loud and cheerful voices caught the attention of the other soldiers. The group on the other end of the aisle locked themselves shoulder to shoulder as they sang. Bottles of brandy stood about them.

“Aryo,” Hartono said.

“No,” Aryo said. “No politics until I’m asleep.”

“I haven’t even said anything yet.”

“You always talk about politics.”

“Did the Great Houses do something to you for you to be so against it?”

“I don’t know,” Aryo said, filling his mouth with a spoonful of amur soup. “Maybe.”

“It’s not Great House Pendhopo right?” Wati said.

Aryo shrugged. “Maybe.”

“Screw that Great House,” Hartono said. “They only care about their power and wealth.”

Wati looked at Hartono awkwardly, feeling attacked. “All the Great Houses do. You have to have power and wealth if you wish to give the best for the people,” she said. “Without Great House Pendhopo, our people wouldn’t have fair businesses with outsiders. There would be no traders or merchants from abroad that we could…you know, exploit. Also, they made half of the Sultanate’s revenue.”

“I mean, of course, you can make half of the Sultanate’s revenue if you prevent others from earning up to that amount.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You know how they are trying to maintain balance by diplomatic means? I’d say, they’re doing it to keep others down to keep a huge chunk of everything else for themselves.”

“Incorrect,” Wati said proudly. “Great House Pendhopo valued the combined efforts of all parties to generate prosperity. If they’re doing something, it is to safeguard the power balance between the Great Houses and ensure they play their part.” Wati cleared her throat. “For example, they granted the folks under Great House Pawon protection patches of land in Abi Prairie so they could work on it. They demolished one of their abandoned offices so that Great House Langgar could build a temple there. They let Great House Dalem have a share of their wadang mines in Enri Shores so they have a constant supply of the mineral for research. The list goes on.”

“Yeah,” Hartono said. “Inside that list is also the negotiation with Great House Thong.”

“It’s not a negotiation, but rather a communication. They’re bluffing so that the Wankers believe we would open talks and coexist. We don’t actually, but it made them hesitant to advance further.”

Aryo caused a clamor by smacking his spoon on his helmet repeatedly. “I swear, in the name of the Almighty Three,” he said. “If you two keep this up, I will drop a cooking pot on top of your heads!”

Hearing that, Wati shriveled. Her guilty conscience kicked in when Aryo frowned at her. He had clearly stated that he wouldn’t like it, yet she dragged the conversation anyway. She just disliked when someone accused her parents of deeds against the Sultanate.

“I’m sorry,” Wati said, looking down at her soup.

“Right, my bad,” Hartono said.

“Hartono,” Aryo said. “Her parents were both House Councilors of Great House Pendhopo. Of course, she’s offended by what you said. Think twice before saying anything next time.”

“Sorry, sir.”

Aryo inhaled deeply.

“Did you know,” Marno said, breaking the silence. “An Dolan adventurers clashed again with Great House Dalem?”

“Marno,” Aryo said with an irritated tone. “I beg you.”

“Pardon me,” Marno said. “I just wanted to say that they discovered the lost library where allegedly Prophet Gajah Salto retired. About a hundred ancient textbooks, the prophet’s writing, and notes written in Oud Taavi — the ancient Antker language were uncovered. Great House Dalem demanded that they hand over the rights to the library for studies.” He garnered everyone’s attention as he explained.

Aryo squinted. His eyes roamed left and right near his eyebrows.

“Yeah, that’s politics,” he said. “Please skip.”

“What’s not politics to you?” Hartono said.

“Shut up.”

“Okay, very well,” Marno said. “How about this? Scholars of Dalem Arcane Institute have discovered a way to positively influence the growth of wadang using the Mantra of Wellspring.”

Wati choked on her meal. “Oh, oh!” Her eyes were opened wide. “I’m listening.

“They cast a strengthening magic into a sample wadang and noticed that it got slightly heavier. Illumination-Based Decomposition Analysis then resulted in a pattern that indicated the presence of additional branches of wadang’s lattice essence.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“That’s amazing!” Wati said.

“So, we can replicate wadang now?” Hartono said.

“Not replicate per se,” Marno said. “More like generating more per deposit. However, this growth is unpredictable and only observed, at least currently, under surgical conditions. Not much practical application yet.”

“That still means we can give wadang to those scholars and ask them to generate more.”

“I’m sure that’s as simple as it sounds,” Marno said, smiling awkwardly.

“Where did you read that?” Wati said.

“The publication has been out for a month now. The title is ‘Wadang Anomalies upon the Casting of FrtStr-13 Enchantment under Simulated Anti-Wardhana Environment’. I read the sample when we were in Fort Ngajeni and ordered a copy.”

“Would you involve me in your study of this publication?”

“When it arrives, sure,” Marno shrugged. “Two brains are better than one.”

“Cool,” Wati said excitedly.

“I hope I understand what you two are talking about,” Aryo said.

Hartono spoke up. “What say you if we talk about–”

“Hartono,” Aryo cut him. “Every time you talk about social issues, you always steer it toward politics.”

“Well, I wasn’t going to talk about social issues.” Hartono reached into his pocket and fished an odd-looking jar the size of his palm. “I just got this perfume that I want to show you.”

Wati and Marno chuckled.

***

Wati took a microbreak for every cooking utensil rinsed to admire the distant group of clouds that pointed to the summit of Mount Wardhana. She couldn’t see the volcano from where she was, but the thundering noise it made could still be heard.

There were rumors that something was wrong with the great volcano. Its state had grown ever more concerning for the past fifteen years. Some experts boldly claimed that the Dankers were about to face a cataclysmic eruption akin to what had happened after the ascension of Mangkuprawan I to the throne. Cities were devastated by earthquakes. Farms were razed by fiery basalt downpours.

The scale of the catastrophe was incomprehensible for Wati. She could agree, however, that something as mighty as Mount Wardhana could invoke such destruction. She imagined how arduous it was to live during such times. Mangkuprawan I must be a great leader for being able to take his realm through that alive. She was unsure whether Mangkuprawan V could repeat the feat if, the Almighty Three forbid, the same event were to transpire.

As soon as Wati finished washing the dishes, she returned to her tent. Aryo was already asleep with his back facing her. Wati half-smiled as she watched his body gently pulsating. She stroked his shoulder with the utmost care.

Wati grabbed the lantern at the back of the tent and put it close to her. The illumination allowed her to comfortably run her eyes through the texts of her Mantra of Wellspring textbook. Her crossed legs bore the weight of the tome that was almost as big as her torso.

She read every paragraph thoroughly and carefully, ignoring the various crimson scribbles and underlines that weren’t her own. Sometimes, they helped to understand the materials better. Sometimes, they were just random lines that conveyed nothing other than maybe the previous owner’s method of coping with the stress of learning. It made her ponder the emotional state of an average student of the Dalem Arcane Institute, from whom she purchased the book.

The list of Mantra in the book was organized into chapters based on the similarity of their effect. There were brief histories of how the Mantra was discovered, which Wati tended to skip. The Mantra verses themselves were in Puh-Soro, the ancient Danker language dating to the time of the Prophet, which was seldom recognizable due to constant grammar and vocabulary changes over thousands of years. They were prayers to the Almighty Three, a request to borrow their power.

However, the power of the Gods was incompatible with their creations. There was a threshold, beyond which the continued usage of Mantra would harm or even kill the user. This threshold was the Tjakra, an intrinsic property of every living being that allowed them to tolerate the self-harm effects of the Mantra.

The instructions of every Mantra were coupled with illustrations that depicted the arm and hand gestures as well as the emotions needed to activate the corresponding Tjakra nodes inside the body so that the magic could flow safely. Wati’s attention was fixed on a Mantra to cure exhaustion. It was well inside the first chapter of the book. It took her thirty minutes to fully grasp that particular section, which was three pages long out of the one thousand two hundred and fifty-seven pages that the book had.

Wati set the book down. She emptied her mind and began reciting a prayer to Visha, followed by the verse of the Mantra she had just memorized. Her arms and hands flowed exactly like what the book instructed. She tried to synchronize her emotions as best as she could. There was a cold feeling in her arms. A pale golden glow emanated from her hands. Almost instantaneously, she felt that heat again in her muscles. Her chest and head throbbed, and it grew more painful over time. The pale golden glow was at its brightest. A sphere of magical energy formed at her right palm.

But at that point, her hands felt like they were evaporating, and Wati eventually yielded. The glow disappeared with a brief ‘whoop’. She took short and quick breaths. Her arms felt like she had just done an hour's worth of arm exercises. She steadied her breathing and inhaled deeply.

Wati remembered the Pa-Kem students who sped their nyambek to an accident. The Mantra to increase speed was in the third chapter of the book, along with other basic physical fortifications like strength and agility. It was about a hundred pages away from where she was. Even then she was still unable to cast what she had learned so far. Wati sighed, realizing that it would be a long way for her to master the Mantra.

She read a bit about the strength enhancement spell before closing the book and lying on her bedroll. She covered her eyes with her right arm, hoping to fall asleep as soon as possible.

Wati felt a sniffing on her left cheek. She tried to ignore it but it proceeded to lick her. Calya sat nicely as Wati looked at it. The poosh meowed.

“What?” Wati said with a low lethargic voice.

Calya rubbed its head to her sides. Wati rubbed her, thinking that the creature wanted to cuddle. Instead, it stood facing the entrance of the tent. Wati lifted her head. The poosh turned to look at her and meowed. It wanted her to follow.

Wati reluctantly forced herself up and followed the poosh with the lantern in hand. She walked past tents which had mostly turned off their lights. She negotiated every intersection carefully, avoiding the camp patrols. A pair of sentries crossed their spear and prevented her from exiting the encampment. She told them that it wouldn't be long. Calya helped her negotiate by rubbing herself on the sentries’ boots. Wati told them that it wanted to show her something. Luckily, the sentries agreed.

Near the bushes on the left side of the road, Wati saw something moving. Darkness didn’t conceal the creature’s steady throbbing motion. Calya went there and meowed at her.

The illumination from Wati’s lantern revealed a thulchek — a winged lizard creature the size of Wati’s calf. Its scales were a mix of blue and brown. It had a beautiful red crest that would glow under sunlight. Its head resembled a clothespin. Calya proceeded to walk all over while sniffing the thulchek. It could’ve easily eaten the poor creature but it didn’t.

Calya meowed as the creature whined. Wati was puzzled how a thulchek ended up there in the first place. They were usually found perching on the branches of tabuya or the crown of mbok-amur. Wati brought the lantern closer and revealed the slight tear on its translucent peanut-colored wing.

The thulchek yanked itself back when Calya sniffed the tear. The poosh, with its unholy reflexes, merely pulled back at a breakneck speed and began grooming itself.

Wati took a deep breath. She crouched and aimed her palm at the tear. The thulchek noticed how she was aiming for the tear on its wing and shrieked at her.

“Hush,” she said. “It’s okay.”

Wati closed her eyes, jettisoning her thoughts. She inhaled deeply two times before reciting a prayer to Visha. She connected her heart to Her unconditional love. A cold feeling coursed through her right arm as soon as she began spelling a Mantra of Wellspring. It reminded her of the spring back home that she and Aryo used to drink from. Her arm began to heat up as it glowed. Wisps of pale golden light revolved about her hand in an orderly manner. The painful thumping on her head and chest threatened to break her concentration.

A hiss broke the silence. Wati could feel her muscles relax and cool down. The glow disappeared and the wisps dispersed. She opened her eyes. The thulchek raised its left wing as if it was in disbelief that the tear was no longer there. Wati watched in astonishment as the creature squeaked at her once before flying away. A joyful smile formed on her face.

Calya meowed while looking up at her. Wati excitedly picked it up.

“Did you see that, Calya? I did it!” Wati shook the poosh. “I did it!” she said, suppressing the urge to scream out her success.

Calya only meowed, like it usually did.

Wati laid Calya on her shoulder and rushed back to her tent. She found Aryo standing in the middle of the camp aisle just as she was looking for him. When she closed the distance, Aryo raised a finger, stopping and preventing her from saying a word. He studied her from head to foot and returned a curious look.

“Aryo!” Wati said.

“Wait…” Aryo said, studying her again one more time. “You…must have done it, did you?”

Wati flattened her lips and smiled. She nodded vigorously.

“You’re not joking, are you?”

Wati put on a serious face. “Why would I? Here lo–”

Just as she was about to recite a prayer to Visha, one of the camp patrols pointed and ordered them to return to their tent. The two rushed back and immediately lay on their bedrolls. Wati let Calya go before shutting the lantern and her eyes. She heard the footsteps of the patrol. One of them opened the tent’s curtain. Wati peeked once they moved away.

“Psst…Aryo,” Wati said, looking at Aryo over her shoulder.

Aryo shifted slightly. “Still awake too, huh.”

“I haven’t shown you yet.”

“Yeah, but when you cast that now, the glow and the noise will bring those patrols back here.”

Wati slumped. “Damn it.”

Aryo flipped over so that his face was directed toward her. “I believe you, though.”

Wati flipped herself and remained silent. The two were now facing each other. It took some time before a smile formed on her face, a melancholic smile.

“Will you be mine one day, love?” Wati said.

Aryo smiled. “You have to understand that love doesn't have to be romantic.”

The idea that he was so fond of her but still refused to be hers was so outrageous.

“Am I…not beautiful enough for you?”

“That's not what I said.”

“Then why…” Wati said. “Why do you keep me hoping? Why can't you just be clear about it? I thought we are…friends.” It took Wati her entire strength to say the last word.

Aryo was silent for a while. He turned his head toward the tent’s ceiling. “I really want to be yours.”

Wati remained still and listened.

“But then you will be fixated on me,” Aryo said. He turned his attention back to Wati. “And not on your dreams.”

Wati's eyes widened, taking as much of Aryo's visage as possible.

“Seeing you pursuing them has always been inspiring. Despite what had happened to you, you still press on. It compels me to do the same. I don't want to lose that.” Aryo gestured at her. “Do you remember the time when my father passed away? I didn't cry much because I knew you had been through worse.”

“Aryo…”

Aryo inhaled deeply. “We have a long life ahead of us, don't we? Praise the Three…the Holy…the Almighty, for greater longevity than the humans. Let's first see what this world has to offer.” Aryo shrugged. “Once, and only once we're satisfied with everything…let's get married.”

Wati gasped. “And have a baby?”

“Well…yeah.”

“H-how many do you want?” Wati wriggled closer to him. “I'll do ten if I have to,” Wati said with her elated face close to Aryo's. Their bright amber eyes gazed at each other.

Aryo chuckled and rolled his eyes. “That's a question for another day.”

Wati pouted.

“You didn't hear what I said? Pursue your dreams first.”

“I'm one step closer!” Wati said confidently. “I just healed a thulchek over there with a Mantra.” Wati nodded in the direction she had returned from.

“Well done then,” Aryo said. “I'll give you an hour of cuddling.”

“Three.”

“Two.”

“Okay, deal,” Wati said. She immediately reached to undo her armor, but Aryo immediately stopped her.

“Armor on.”

Wati sighed. “Fine.”

The night was warm and fragrant for the two. And the crickets weren't the only ones chirping.