(LATEST UPDATE: 23/5/2024)
The ship rocked violently in the stormy sea, waves crashing relentlessly against its sides. Despite the chaos, the vessel was a sight to behold, adorned with intricate carvings that would put any fancy yacht to shame. The captain, a burly man with a tightly wrapped headscarf, bellowed orders, his voice barely audible over the roar of the storm.
"Steady on, brothers!" he shouted.
The sailors, dressed in traditional attire, scrambled across the deck, clutching ropes and shouting to one another. Their faces were tense with determination.
Suddenly, through the curtain of rain, the dark silhouette of a menacing Portuguese warship emerged. Its cannons were poised and ready.
"Portuguese! Brace yourselves!" a sailor yelled.
"These invaders think they can simply take our lands and seas?" another sailor spat, gripping the railing.
"Hold on to your faith, Syafiq. We'll see them off—" a third sailor began, but his words were cut short by a deafening explosion.
A direct hit from one of the warship's cannons sent Hffyl sprawling, and he was thrown into the tumultuous sea.
"By Allah..." he muttered as the cold water enveloped him.
Everything faded to black.
[Ext. ???]
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*Eyes opened*
Hffyl jolted awake, drenched in sweat. His heart pounded as he tried to shake off the remnants of the vivid dream. He looked around his darkened room, the only sound the gentle hum of the fan. The air conditioner had switched off automatically to save electricity, leaving the fan as the sole source of cooling.
"What was I dreaming?" Hffyl whispered to himself, stretching as he got out of bed. "Fajr prayer, I guess..."
As he moved, the faint call to prayer began to echo through the early morning air. He reached out to wake his younger brother, whose bed was separated from his by a wooden plank.
"Brother, wake up!" Hffyl called softly.
His brother stirred slightly but then settled back into his sleep. Hffyl sighed and let a moment of silence pass.
An hour after the prayer, their mother, whom they called 'Mama,' pushed aside the curtains. The room filled with the golden light of dawn, painting the sky in vibrant colors.
"Quickly, we're heading to your grandparents' house this morning," she announced.
Hffyl nodded, feeling the lingering unease from his dream begin to fade. He nudged his brother again, more insistently this time. As the household began to stir to life, the promise of a new day and a visit to their grandparents' house brightened his mood.
The grandparents' house was just a short walk away, about 300 meters. The siblings often walked there on foot, enjoying the brief journey together. At home, they spoke English with each other, but switched to Malay when talking to the rest of the family.
As usual, the three siblings were a bit chaotic. Hffyl's little sister, six years younger than him, often found herself the target of her brothers' antics. Both boys had their own style of joking around. Today, Hffyl's brother was engaged in a lively game of tag, racing around the house with Hffyl in pursuit.
Hffyl, on the other hand, approached his sister with a more strategic form of mischief.
"Hey, I got a mission for you. Could yo—" he started.
"No," his sister cut him off.
"Could you grab something from the kitchen?" he tried again.
"I said no," she repeated firmly.
"Fine... Hey brother, could yo—" Hffyl began to call out, but his brother interrupted with a loud, "BRO, GO GET IT YOURSELF."
Hffyl often used his sister as a sparring partner, believing it would teach her to endure and stand up for herself. It seemed to work well enough. His brother, meanwhile, was strong and quick to defend him, sometimes even more protective than Hffyl himself.
Later, in the common area, Hffyl admired some of the creations his grandfather, whom he called 'Abah', had made. Abah was a retired man from Perak with a knack for storytelling, often regaling the family with tales from the British colonial era, the Japanese occupation, and the Communist insurgency. He also shared stories of their family's connection to great figures in Malaysian history.
"In Malay, Abah said, 'I'd fix your old toy gun. Just pull the string.'"
Hffyl's eyes lit up as he tried the toy. "Wow, how did you fix it? It works much better now!"
"Just added a string, some rubber bands, and a screw to make it function again," Abah replied with a smile.
In the kitchen, Hffyl's nose twitched as he caught a familiar scent. He spotted his grandmother, whom he called 'Umi', cooking his favorite dish.
"Spaghetti Olio!" he exclaimed excitedly.
Umi laughed. "How did you know?"
"I could smell it from the living room," Hffyl said, grinning.
"Sure, sure. Go ahead and eat. You need to gain some weight for your very thin body," Umi teased.
Hffyl was very underweight despite eating a lot. He was also a picky eater, often preferring plain white rice over trying new foods. But today, he happily enjoyed his favorite spaghetti with his mother, who would usually share stories and give advice.
Upstairs in the attic, Hffyl found himself drawn to an old photograph of his biological father holding him as a baby. It felt like peering through a window into another world, one he was too young to remember but longed to understand. His father's face, slightly blurred in the photograph, was full of warmth and love.
He remembered the last time he saw him face-to-face before their trip to Mecca and the last time he heard his voice through a video message on his birthday. They didn't see each other often, and when his father passed away from a heart attack, Hffyl couldn't attend the funeral due to the long distance across several states.
Today, something unusual caught his attention behind the photograph. He noticed a blue object in a small glass container.
"Hmm? What's this blue thing? This wasn't here before," Hffyl muttered to himself.
His curiosity piqued, he examined the object closely. His hand instinctively reached out to touch it, but he quickly pulled back.
He had decided, placing the container back in its spot.
Hffyl had a logical mind and a strong sense of self-control. With the mystery of the blue object set aside for now, he headed back to the kitchen for a drink.
Hffyl grabbed a cup of water from the kitchen. As he drank, a sudden wave of nausea washed over him. It started as a tickling sensation at the back of his throat, escalating into a heavy weight in his chest. His head began to spin, and the room around him blurred in and out of focus. Panic bubbled up within him.
"Mama? Umi? Anyone?" he called out, his voice shaky.
His legs quivered, threatening to give way beneath him. Desperately, he tried to resist the encroaching darkness that clouded his vision, clinging to fragments of consciousness. He felt the cool touch of the floor as his knees buckled. With every ounce of strength remaining, he reached out to clutch the kitchen counter, but the room seemed to sway and tilt around him. Confusion, fear, and desperate determination surged in his heart.
Despite his struggle, the overwhelming sensations gradually overpowered him. The room dissolved into darkness.
When Hffyl's eyes slowly cracked open, he was greeted with a strange sight. The room was like stepping into a time machine. There were none of the usual sounds from his home, just an eerie silence.
He looked around, taking in the old-school vibe. The walls were painted in muted shades and adorned with fancy wooden panels. The high ceiling, dotted with ornate moldings, was bathed in soft, golden light from a small chandelier.
Hffyl silently looked around, trying to make sense of his surroundings. He was still and quiet, his mind racing.
"...Did I just get kidnapped?" he muttered to himself, the question hanging heavily in the air.
The unfamiliar room filled him with a sense of unease. Hffyl's thoughts raced as he tried to piece together how he had ended up here. The last thing he remembered was the kitchen, the nausea, and then the darkness. Now, he was somewhere completely different, and he had no idea how or why.