"Petruk! Bagong! Anake wis gugah!" one of the horsemen called out in his native Yawanese tongue. He dismounted hastily, sprinting towards Alicia and the shishyas like a comet in pursuit.

"Thank the gods, it's you who fainted this afternoon!" he proclaimed before Alicia's face, switching to her mother tongue. Such a ruddy visage in such close proximity elicited a gasp from her.

"Ah! H-hi..., who are you?" stuttered the Crimsonmane lass, her flushed mien further kindling the lad's fervour. The other women shook their heads in disbelief at his demeanour.

"Alicia, this is Sukodadi Pancalpamor, one of Ki Semar's fosterlings," Kiran introduced.

"Alias Cangkrawangsa Pandrupralogamanik, alias Jawadisputro, alias Nolojoyotungkluk, alias Pegatwaja, alias Astrajingga, alias Dawala."

Too many names! What was wrong with people here? Did the Yawanese measure a person's status by their litany of epithets? Alicia herself bore but a lone title, Alicia Crimsonmane, and even that was ample to have people hunting for her head.

The girl faltered with her mouth agape. "Okay, what should I call you, then?"

"Gareng."

The Crimsonmane lass nearly choked on her own saliva.

"And by the way, 'Alicia'? What a sublime name. Your nobility is not only in the name, but also your appearance, as majestic as Bathari Jhupar Halami, our goddess of beauty and barleys" Gareng extolled. Stepping back, he smoothed his attire and tresses, then suddenly took Alicia's hand, bestowing a kiss upon it in the Western manner. Alicia was left dumbstruck. The only other to grace her hand thus was not someone like Gilmore, but the dwarf Whucksmire, when they were both much younger.

Gareng's skin was truly a ruddy colour, like laterite. The sun-baked complexion that represented the luxury of living in a tropical setting, the man’s ideal dwelling. His shoulder-length hair was untied and tousled, adding to his rugged appearance. Outside, three steeds awaited, promising the arrival of more visitors. If Gareng was considered fair by Alicia’s faulty eyesight, the other men were sure to be a striking ensemble.

One newcomer had his hair pulled back into a ponytail and his stature tall, but his most prominent feature was his large nose. He looked like he might be of mixed heritage. At his side was a shorter gentleman, perhaps even shorter than Alicia herself, with a hair bun and a sleek black beskap suit. The taller man wore a red shirt with yellow trim.

"Is this the same woman that passed out earlier? Where are you from? Are you any chance, a celestial being?" the tall lad enquired.

"O gods, there’s his teasing again," bemoaned his brother, the short lad. He had yet alighted from his steed. "You say that to every woman you meet, Petruk. You sound like a broken record!"

Petruk, with an unflinched face, responded, "Bagong, all women are celestial beings."

"Your nose is so long, it bores women to tears," Bagong retorted. "At least make an effort to keep the world's oldest temptation from making people sour!"

"You're just jealous of me because my nose is more acute than yours, Bagong." Petruk teased. "I don't mean to sound conceited, but my nose makes me the closest thing I have to a handsome Western man. That's proper, isn't it, Miss…?"

"I'm... Alicia Crimsonmane, of Caledonia, Camelot. Nice to meet you," she replied, shaking their hands. "Aye, it's typical where I'm from for noses to look like yours. Most kids have Pinocchio dolls in their home."

Bagong laughed so hard that he fell off his horse. "Gods, even the Western woman is comparing you to Pinocchio!" he exclaimed. He then fantasised about playing the flute from his nose. "Tut, tut, tut, tut... It is I, Petruchio! My nose rivals a bamboo flute's length, for I've been flirting with maidens aplenty!"

Bagong's whimsical dance brought laughter from the others. Petruk stood dumbfounded. But the tall man simply grinned and played along as the butt of Bagong's jokes.

"Hey, at least he's one of the great mages in old times!" Petruk playfully bantered.

"I guess stopping her nose extending and shortening beyond his control is too difficult for a great mage!" Bagong replied, chortling again.

After the short banter, Bagong approached the lass in the wheelchair. "You know, Alicia Crimsonmane, you have a funny way of talking!" he said, referring to her distinctive Caledonian accent. They already thought the Camelot tongue was like a fish-man talking in water. Then they heard for the first time the cadence of lilting words with an odd vowel enunciation—the Caledonian accent.

"This is how people in my place speak. I beg pardon." Alicia winced. "I-I can try to use normal common tongue if you have trouble following me!"

"Fret not, Miss. We're not that stupid. Besides, we cherish your accent." Petruk affirmed, to which Bagong nodded in return. "Let me introduce myself, I'm just like the others, Ki Semar's foster child too. Name’s Petruk, aka Bambang Pecruk Penyakilan, aka Doblajaya, aka Jengglongjaya, aka Pentungpinanggul, aka Welgeduwebleh Tongtongsot, aka Surogendolo aka Kanthong Bolong!"

"There’s more, isn’t there?" Alicia was already dazed.

"Perhaps a few more," Petruk admitted, scratching his head. "But I've misplaced them. Care to guess what they call me?"

"Petruk?" Alicia ventured.

"Bravo! You're quite astute," Petruk exclaimed. "Miss Alicia, not only are you a celestial beauty, but you also possess an uncanny intuition."

"I believe it's because the gentleman next to you just said your name," Alicia said, smiling.

Petruk came to his senses and tapped his forehead. Bagong by his side laughed even louder.

"Just call me Bagong, lady. You'll get confused with my other name." Bagong introduced himself. "Oh by the way, here. I didn't think I could finish it so quickly. Try it."

Bagong handed a small, slender box to Alicia. Her countenance brightened with recognition.

"Bagong! You made this? I’m eternally thankful!"

"I may not be a skilled practitioner as my brethren, but I am a maestro of craftmanship, including magical gear. Some have even likened me to the Hephaestos!" Bagong proclaimed, puffing his chest with pride.

"I-is that so? That's sound!" Alicia enthusedly said.

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"What? Nonsense! How could anyone call you that?" snapped Gareng. "Besides, no one knows who Hephaestos is."

"I know Hephaestos," Petruk responded.

"Besides Petruk!"

"I know Hephaestos too! He was the creator of the first automaton and designed equipment for the mages of Olympus!" Alicia waved her hands like a child.

"But you didn't call Bagong that!"

"How about you? Do you know who Hephaestos is, Gareng?" Bagong changed the subject.

"I don't know! I told you no one knows who Hephaestos is!"

"I know Hephaestos. You forgot me." Petruk said again.

"Forget it."

"You three are quite amusing!" Alicia chuckled.

The triad brethren exclaimed in unison. "Does that mean you're willing to go out with us?"

"Huh? What on earth…? Nae danger!"

"But they say women like humorous men," Gareng argued.

Bagong insisted, "I'm definitely funnier.”

"Bah! The only thing funny about you is your midget body!"

"Hey! You shouldn't make fun of someone's body!"

"Then what's with that Petruchio thing and his flute nose?"

"Brothers, we should ask Father to organize a contest of jest," suggested Petruk.

"A splendid notion!" the two chorused. "Let's prove who is the wittiest like a man, and is deserving of dating this gorgeous girl."

While Petruk, Gareng, and Bagong were busy arguing, the four girls laughed heartily, concealing their mirth behind clasped hands. Semar's three children were so ridiculous, that Alicia hoped none of them triumphed if the competition was ever held.

Bagong prompted Alicia to examine her token gift once more. With a sense of anticipation, Alicia opened the box to reveal a pair of brand-new glasses. As she put them on, the world around her seamlessly clarified, and a soothing wave of relief cascaded over her. She gazed upon the three female shishyas, just as young and fair as she had imagined. And the three men standing with them, with their striking looks and charming demeanour, seemed almost too good to be true. Alicia could not help but feel that she had stumbled upon something special in this place: finding friends here was easier compared to the place she left her mother's womb.

As they were chatting in the courtyard, a strange man strolled into their midst. He seemed not to acknowledge the existence of the seven humans there, passing them unceremoniously on the way out.

"Ah, Wisesa! Going home, brother? Have you finished feeding the pigs?" Gareng exclaimed near the lad's ear.

Petruk tapped the red-skinned man on the temple. "Gareng, what's wrong with you? Don't act that way!" he scolded in a whisper. "Wisesa? Let's talk here first! See? We have in our midst a new girl."

The man, who went by the moniker Wisesa, shrugged off Petruk's long arm that had circled his shoulder. Even if the others bore witness to his impolite gesture, Wisesa could not care less. All he desired was to return home after a taxing day battling pigs. However, Bagong, Gareng, and the three women would not put up with his ignorant behaviour. Before the scorn could escape their lips, Alicia took her turn first.

"Hey!" she called out to him. "I believe you were in the room earlier. I'm sorry if I ever accused you of stealing. Can we talk for a wee bit?"

The breeze roared louder in Wisesa's ears than Alicia's considerate invitation. Let alone heeding, the young man did not even stop his steps. He moved on with his feet as if no one was there. Those voices were just wishful thinking. Never respond if one did not want to come off crazy, he thought.

All eyes remained fixated on Wisesa, as if his behaviour was nothing out of the ordinary. But the fire in their gaze had not dissipated, not one bit. Alicia, on the other hand, was lost in a daze, struggling to make sense of what had just happened. She could not shake off the feeling that she had done something wrong to offend the lad. The bitterness creeping into her mouth scrunched her up in disappointment. Seeing her distress, the three women attempted to soothe her.

"Don't be disheartened," Kiran consoled. "He's always been like that since the day we met him. Nothing personal."

"But should we put up with it? He doesn't have to be an asshole, at least!" Cempaka seethed. The others let out a resigned sigh.

"That man will not change even if everyone reviles him, Cempaka," Petruk replied a sage. "Even frozen meat needs time to thaw before it can be cooked and eaten."

"Petruk, sometimes I wonder why a brawler like you is the wisest among us."

"Oh, of course. It's a pity that humans live to a ripe old age without fully utilizing their brains and muscles. As for Wisesa, only patience as long as my nose will melt him in the future, hopefully. After all, being the crown prince of Alas Purwo must have been quite the ordeal for him. We have no idea what kind of life he's led to become the person he is today, but I'm willing to bet my father's legacy on it."

Alicia was surprised by Petruk's words. "He's the crown prince of Alas Purwo? I thought you were at odds with yon kingdom?"

"Oh, we're definitely still at odds with that fascist state," Bagong chimed in. "He's Wisesa, Ki Semar's adopted son too. He's the eldest son of the current Sunan, but he abandoned his own Sunannate in favor of his father's younger brother. Wisesa had to contend with his own family as well as the scepticism of the Pulomas residents."

Petruk echoed Bagong's words. "We thought he was a spy for Alas Purwo when we found him dying near the fields. But Ki Semar was wiser than us and took him in. However, the villagers still hold a grudge against him, given that he was the crown prince of Alas Purwo, and some of Tumaritis' residents were victims of his father's regime."

"Regardless, he could at least be polite so people would feel for him. What a crude man!" Bagong retorted.

"Well, never mind. At least we don't have to share a roof with him," Gareng added. "I can't stand his arrogance. Let him live in a hut outside the village. Maybe Barong will visit him this time!"

Barong. That was the second time the name echoed in Alicia's ears. Perhaps it sounded like a common creature in the land of Yawa. But for no apparent reason, Alicia felt troubled by the term. She was compelled to inquire about it. Alas, Alicia was curtailed by a pair of people who were standing at the gate. Why was the timing so poor?

After better scrutiny, it appeared that the pair were Ki Semar and a woman whom Alicia assumed to be his spouse. This time, Ki Semar veiled himself within the fabric. The village chief did not show up as expected, and Alicia was not shocked to see him. He was simply a seemingly wise, stooped grandfather in her eyes. In other words, an elderly man relishing his golden years. The woman believed to be Semar's wife called out to the three ladies behind Alicia. Her voice was stern, probably a reprimand.

"Sorry Alicia, we lost track of time. We have to go back to our house," Kiran said.

"See you later, Alicia. We'll help you find your favorite thing tomorrow," said Cahyaningrum.

The three women gave a respectful greeting to the couple and returned to their respective abodes.

"I see that you have met my three kids. And your new glasses arrived!" Ki Semar enthusedly said. "Then, let your eyes catch a glimpse of my lovely wife, Kanestren."

Semar's wife timidly touched Ki Semar. She then questioned Alicia. "Greetings, Miss Alicia. My husband has been talking about you. How are you now?"

"Greetings, Mrs. Kanestren. I find myself in a fine state, thank you."

However, things were not entirely fine because a strange growl interrupted the conversation. The moment Alicia caught everyone's attention, she flushed. Laughter erupted from the entire family.

"You know, I've just come from the kitchen outside, to prepare for the banquet. It's getting dark, let's all go inside and dine," Kanestren said gently as she directed Alicia's wheelchair.

In Alicia's musings, despite the couple being advanced in age, and their children adopted, they were actually a more normal family than her own—the ungrateful Wisesa did not make it into the count. This momentarily triggered recollections of her little family in Camelot. It was only now that she felt how much she missed Donar, her father, and Leith, her cold brother. Alicia tried to stave off thoughts of how her family might react if the most fragile among them were on the other side of the world. It would bring her to tears, dissolving into endless spasms of irritation—her eyes even moistened slightly. It was a good thing the tears remained inconspicuous in the dim light.

Yet, she also reminded herself of her fortune in having two stalwart, discerning, and sagacious men. Indeed, they must have understood and left everything to the Silent Divine regarding her expedition to salvage the world.

Speaking of salvaging the world, it was a matter to set aside for the moment. It was a long journey with no clear end in sight. For now, it was time to dine. []