"Two weeks?" Rizki's voice trembled with disbelief, his eyes widening as the realization hit him like a tidal wave. Two entire weeks had slipped by while he was caught in the embrace of sleep, and now he was facing the consequences of lost time.
Seated across from him was none other than Varian, the chief of the elf forest. His demeanor was unexpectedly casual, his posture relaxed as he tossed a pack of cigarettes towards Rizki, who instinctively caught it. "Thanks," Rizki mumbled, surprised by the informal gesture.
Varian's response was a subtle nod, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "No need for formalities here," he stated, his voice carrying a warmth that was both reassuring and unexpected. "You saved my daughters, and that speaks volumes. I've already heard about what happened inside the cave from them."
The tension that had held Rizki's shoulders taut began to loosen. The weight of his actions was recognized, his bravery acknowledged in a way that transcended words. He wasn't just a stranger who had stumbled into their world; he was a participant in their shared story.
Varian's fingers conjured a flickering flame, igniting the tip of his own cigarette with practiced ease. Rizki's gaze followed the dance of fire, captivated by its hypnotic rhythm. In that moment, the act of lighting a cigarette became a symbolic bridge, connecting two individuals from vastly different backgrounds.
The soft hum of a recording device in the background served as a constant reminder that this interaction was significant, etching its imprint onto the fabric of their lives. Rizki's next words tiptoed into unfamiliar territory, venturing into the realm of passports and visas. Varian's brows furrowed; his curiosity piqued by the unfamiliar terms.
"Passports and visas?" Varian repeated the words foreign on his tongue. He leaned forward slightly, his interest evident in the furrow of his brows. "What are these documents you speak of?"
Rizki picked up on Varian's intrigue, offering a patient smile. "They're official documents that grant permission for international travel," he explained. "You see, in my world, we can't leave our country without them. They're like keys that unlock the doors to other countries."
Varian's expression shifted from curiosity to contemplation as he absorbed Rizki's explanation. The concept seemed to puzzle him, the idea of needing specific documents to move freely between regions foreign to his own experiences.
"We don't have such requirements here," Varian mused, his gaze distant as he considered the implications. "Our interactions with outsiders are usually based on trust and recommendations rather than official documents."
Rizki nodded in understanding, recognizing the fundamental differences between their worlds. The exchange was a reminder of the complexities that could arise when cultures collided, each with its own norms and protocols.
Liora's name resurfaced, invoking memories of their previous encounter. Varian's apology was heartfelt, a testament to his willingness to acknowledge and rectify any misunderstandings. Rizki appreciated the gesture, feeling a sense of camaraderie with the elf chief.
"In my world," Rizki continued, steering the conversation back to the topic at hand, "there are certain guidelines and regulations that help maintain order when people from different regions interact. It's meant to ensure safety and prevent any potential conflicts."
Varian's eyes focused on Rizki, his gaze intense as he processed the information. "I can see the wisdom in that approach," he admitted, a hint of respect coloring his words. "Though it does sound quite bureaucratic compared to our ways."
Rizki chuckled, the sound lighthearted and genuine. "Yes, it can be quite an ordeal sometimes," he agreed. "But it's a system that's evolved over time to manage the complexities of our interconnected world."
Their conversation flowed seamlessly, a blend of curiosity, understanding, and shared laughter. Varian's openness was a refreshing departure from the formalities that often-defined cross-cultural interactions. Rizki found himself drawn to the authenticity that Varian radiated, a quality that transcended societal roles.
Amidst the dialogue, Rizki's eyes wandered to the pack of cigarettes that had started it all. The embers glowed softly, mirroring the warmth of the conversation. Each puff of smoke seemed to carry with it a piece of the connection they were building—a bridge between two individuals who had crossed paths in the most extraordinary of circumstances.
And just as the conversation seemed to settle into a comfortable rhythm, Varian's voice held a hint of mischief as he pulled out his own cigar and remarked, "You know, Rizki, you're not just anyone here. You have the approval of not one, but six individuals who vouch for you."
Rizki's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his eyes widening at Varian's words. "Six individuals?" he repeated, disbelief evident in his tone. "Who are they?"
A knowing smile curved Varian's lip. "My daughters, Liora, and myself," he revealed, the words carrying a sense of significance. "You've earned their trust through your actions."
And as Rizki's mind absorbed every word, his thoughts circled back to the quadruplets—the four he had tried to save. It was a realization that struck him like a bolt of lightning, a jolt of recognition that coursed through his veins. His eyes widened in amazement, and a soft gasp escaped his lips. "Wait... those four girls," he stammered, his voice tinged with disbelief. "They're... they're your daughters?"
Varian's laughter echoed in the air once again, warm and genuine. "Yes, indeed. Four spirited princesses," he confirmed, his eyes twinkling with fondness. "Faye must have truly blessed me that day. Quadruplets, all of them."
As the soft tendrils of smoke swirled in the air, a sudden burst of movement shattered the tranquil atmosphere. The door swung open with a resounding crash, a burst of energy sweeping through the room. The scent of cigar had clearly reached someone outside, invoking a fiery reaction.
"Stop smoking at..." The command hung in the air, interrupted by the appearance of an elf with vibrant pink hair and an air of authority. Her eyes blazed like twin flames, her presence demanding attention.
With a face shape that was round and fair skin, she stood at delicate height, her petite frame enhanced by her slender yet shapely body. Her rose-red eyes, framed by pink eyebrows, bore a mixture of concern and exasperation. She was adorned in a silver dress with armor plates on her arms, a sight that exuded a sense of readiness for adventure.
But her current demeanor was far from adventurous; it was fierce and fiery. "You are smoking again, father?!" Her voice crackled with a potent mixture of disbelief and anger, directed at the man who sat before her. The familiarity of their relationship was evident in the intensity of her words.
"Oh crap!" Varian's voice held a note of panic as he scrambled to react to the sudden intrusion. The situation had escalated faster than he could anticipate. The arrival of this pink-haired force of nature had caught him off guard.
Before anyone could react further, the elf with the pink hair moved with remarkable swiftness. Her slender fingers reached out and plucked the cigar from Rizki's fingers, her movements determined and unyielding. Her anger had a purpose, and that purpose was Rizki's well-being.
She then nagged Rizki as she tore the lit-up cigar into two, "Four of us donated our blood to you and don't waste our blood at this stupid stuff!"
Rizki's curiosity had been piqued, his mind racing to make sense of her words. Inquiring cautiously, he voiced his question, "Your blood?", his eyes met hers, seeking an explanation for the cryptic statement. To his surprise, she nodded in confirmation, a hint of relief in her gaze. It was as if a silent pact had been formed, a shared understanding of the extraordinary nature of their connection.
And in an unexpected turn of events, the fiery elf acted with swift determination. The cigars and the pack met the cool breeze outside the window, a gesture that carried finality. Her reprimand was stern, rooted in her genuine concern for their well-being. "No more smoking," she admonished, her tone leaving no room for argument. "You both have to know that six people out of ten people were died thanks to cigars!"
Rizki couldn't help but offer a half-hearted observation. "But your dad looks healthy though." The words were met with a glare that could melt steel. She shot him a look that silenced any further remarks, her frustration evident. "Man has cancer already!" she retorted, her voice carrying the weight of an unspoken plea.
The revelation hit Rizki like a jolt of electricity. He turned his gaze to Varian, seeking confirmation in his eyes. With a nod, Varian confirmed the truth, admitting that he was already in the third stage of cancer. However, his casual dismissal of his own health raised questions. Rizki's confusion prompted a deeper explanation.
Varian's voice was laced with a mixture of acceptance and a father's selfless love. "I don't care about it. I'm old and would eat the dust anytime soon," he admitted, his words carrying the weight of years lived and experiences gathered. He continued, his voice soft yet resolute, "Let it be, third stages, or even hundredth stage, those are not a matter for me anymore. But my daughters' happiness is on my top list to care about. After all, I lived enough as an elf for 600 years and beyond."
Rizki's heart ached at the depth of Varian's sentiment. The elf chief had lived for over six centuries, a life rich with stories and memories. His selflessness shone through in his desire for his daughters' happiness and security. It was a reminder that bonds forged in the crucible of shared experiences held a value beyond measure.
Varian's voice grew wistful as he continued, his words carrying a mixture of contentment and longing. "I'm glad that each of my daughters has reached their own goals," he confessed, his gaze distant as he thought of the paths they had walked. "But there's one thing that remains—a wish that each of them finds a suitor who cherishes them as much as I do."
The room seemed to hold its breath, a cocoon of emotions woven by the threads of vulnerability and shared understanding. In this intimate space, Rizki and Varian had uncovered layers of connection that went beyond the surface. Their stories, their struggles, and their aspirations had merged into a tapestry that painted a portrait of the bonds that defined their lives.
And as the echoes of their conversation settled, the pink-haired elf's gaze softened. Her earlier anger had been rooted in her deep concern, a reflection of the love she held for her father. With a quiet sigh, she stepped closer to Rizki's bedside, her expression a mix of apology and understanding.
"I'm sorry for the outburst," she admitted, her voice softer now. "It's just... sometimes the weight of worry gets the best of me."
Rizki offered her a reassuring smile, his heart touched by her sincerity. "It's alright," he said, his tone gentle. "Your concern shows how much you care."
Then, Varian's presence seemed to fill the room, his aura commanding attention as he addressed his daughter with a stern yet measured tone. "Eve Danielle," he began, the authority in his voice evident, "you've disturbed an important discussion."
The pink-haired elf, identified as Eve Danielle, bowed her head in acknowledgement, her demeanor shifting from fiery to contrite. "I apologize for the interruption," she said, her words laced with sincerity. Her apology was genuine, a sign that she recognized the breach of etiquette in her sudden intrusion. With practiced grace, she retrieved a cup of herbs from outside the door and left it on a nearby surface before withdrawing.
Varian's expression softened as he continued, his gaze settling on the cup of herbs. "Eve is my second daughter," he explained, his voice carrying a mixture of pride and fondness. "She's not only a medic but also our family's cook. Whenever we gather, she's the one who ensures our meals are prepared with care and love."
The connection between the family members was evident in the way Varian spoke of Eve, his words holding a depth of understanding that only familial bonds could bring. And as the room fell into a moment of quiet, Varian's voice gained a note of seriousness.
"But now," he began, his gaze shifting to meet Rizki's eyes, "I have a demand for you."
Rizki's confusion was palpable, his brows furrowing as he tried to make sense of Varian's statement. His reply was cautious, his words chosen with care. "I'm listening," he offered, his curiosity piqued by the cryptic request.
Varian's gaze held a mixture of determination and hope as he continued. "I don't need you to reply right now," he clarified, his voice carrying a weight that suggested the gravity of his words. "But I wish for Eve to be with you—forever."
Rizki's eyes widened in astonishment, his heart racing as he processed the unexpected request. The cup of herbs he had been drinking slipped from his grasp, its contents spilling as his hand trembled with shock.
The implications of Varian's words were profound, the idea of being linked to one of the chief's daughters in such a way was both astounding and overwhelming. Rizki's mind raced, grappling with the sudden shift in the conversation.
"I believe you to be a hero," Varian's voice held a note of conviction, his gaze unwavering. "Not the kind of hero I've encountered in my long life, but a hero whose actions speak of a different kind of courage and integrity."
The weight of those words settled over the room, their impact reverberating in the air. Rizki's heart pounded in his chest, the enormity of Varian's request sinking in. The chief saw something in him, a quality that transcended the ordinary and resonated with the essence of heroism.
As Rizki struggled to find his voice, Varian's eyes held a glint of understanding. "I know this is unexpected," he acknowledged, his voice gentle yet unwavering. "Take your time to think it over. Eve is her own person, and I respect her choices. But I see in you the potential to provide her with the kind of companionship and support she deserves."