The mist still hung low over the village, drifting slowly as though it had a life of its own.
The wind had died. The air was so heavy that every breath felt like a burden.
Inside the house, Padmasari held Nagantara tightly, her heart pounding faster than usual.
In the corner of the room, Banujati stood tall with his wooden staff, gazing outside with an expression that was hard to decipher.
And out there, the creature still waited.
Nagantara did not move. His eyes remained fixed on the window, but this time, not out of fear. He felt something—something not from outside, not from the creature that lurked beyond the walls, but from within himself.
Padmasari noticed it. "Nagantara," she whispered, gently shaking his shoulder. "Are you all right?"
Her son did not answer right away. His eyes stayed locked on the window, and then, suddenly, the dragon mark on his back began to glow faintly once more.
Nagantara felt something stir inside him.
Cold. Deep. Trembling.
And then, he heard a voice.
"Nagantara..."
The voice did not come from outside. It did not belong to the creature lurking beyond the house. It came from within him.
It carried no tone.
Neither a man's voice nor a woman's. Neither familiar nor unknown.
Yet, somehow, he felt that it had always been there, waiting for the right moment to speak.
"You have been silent for too long..."
"Rise..."
"I have been waiting for you..."
Nagantara frowned.
His hand slowly reached for the mark on his back, which now felt warmer than before.
Padmasari and Banujati watched him in silence. They could not hear the voice. Only Nagantara could.
Padmasari began to panic.
"Nagantara!" She shook him gently, but the boy remained still.
Banujati, still standing near the door, lifted his wooden staff slightly before lowering it back onto the ground with a calm, deliberate motion.
Thud!
The sound echoed softly within the room, sinking into the pressing silence.
Nagantara jolted. His eyes regained focus. He turned to his mother, cold sweat beading on his forehead.
"Mother... I heard something."
Padmasari held her breath. "What do you mean?"
Nagantara opened his mouth, but the voice was still there, lingering in his mind.
"Do not be afraid..."
"This has always been within you..."
He turned to Banujati, who was still watching him with eyes sharp yet serene.
"Grandfather..." Nagantara's voice trembled. "There is something inside me... and it is speaking to me."
Outside, the mist continued to coil, blanketing the village path like a creeping white veil.
The creature still stood outside the house, unmoving, yet its presence grew ever more suffocating.
Inside, Padmasari tried to calm herself.
She pulled Nagantara into her embrace, her hands still cold to the touch. "Nagantara… what did you hear?"
The boy shook his head slightly, his brow furrowed. "I don't know, Mother… but the voice is inside my head."
"What did it say?"
Nagantara lowered his gaze, as if afraid to say it aloud. "Rise…" he whispered. "It said I have been silent for too long."
Padmasari tightened her hold, her heartbeat quickening.
Banujati remained silent. But something had changed in his gaze. His aged fingers gripped his wooden staff more firmly. He knew what was happening.
The wind was still dead. The silence remained heavy. But the signs were clear.
"This is no ordinary voice," he murmured at last. "This is something that has been embedded within him since birth."
Padmasari turned sharply. "What do you mean?"
Banujati did not answer right away. Instead, he raised his staff slightly, then brought it back down with a firm motion.
Thud!
At once, the air inside the house trembled faintly.
"Nagantara…"
"This has always been within you…"
The voice grew clearer in Nagantara's mind, as though something within him was beginning to awaken.
And this time, Padmasari could feel it too. Not because she heard the voice, but because the very air around Nagantara had begun to shift.
Suddenly, the dragon mark on his back shone once more—brighter than before.
Padmasari gasped. "Banujati—!"
But before she could say another word, the creature outside finally moved. With slow, deliberate steps, it began to approach the house.
Banujati knew they could not afford to wait any longer. Before the creature could draw any closer, he lifted his staff once more.
Then, in a deep voice, he began to chant:
"O Earth, shield those who are not yet meant to awaken."
"O Sky, conceal the light that is not ready to shine."
"O Time, slow the steps that are yet to be taken."
Thud!
This time, he struck his staff against the ground with greater force.
At once, the wind that had been dead stirred again. The mist outside swirled, coiling around the house as if shielding it from prying eyes.
Padmasari felt a lightness in her body, as though a weight had been lifted.
And Nagantara, who had been filled with fear moments before, could only stare at the old man in bewilderment.
"Grandfather…" he whispered. "What are you doing?"
Banujati turned to him. "Hiding you… for as long as I can."
A thick mist now shrouded their home.
The oppressive air that had once loomed over them began to shift. The wind whispered again, rustling the leaves around the village, as though the world had just taken a long, deep breath after an age of silence.
Yet, outside, the creature had not left.
Padmasari cast her gaze around.
Cold.
This shift in the air made her skin prickle. She felt a pressure bearing down on them, but not from outside.
This… was coming from within their own home.
"Grandfather, what are you doing?" Nagantara's voice cracked through the tension.
Banujati did not answer right away. He remained standing tall, the tip of his wooden staff still touching the ground, his eyes fixed on the shadow beyond the mist.
"I have closed their eyes. They will not see us… for now."
Padmasari swallowed hard. "For now?"
At last, Banujati turned to her. "They are not ordinary creatures, Padmasari. This protection will not last forever."
From outside the house, strange noises began to echo. A scraping sound. As if something was dragging something sharp across the earth.
Nagantara clenched his hands. He could feel it.
Even though Banujati had hidden them, the creature was still there.
"They can smell us, can't they?"
Banujati did not answer. But his silence spoke louder than words.
Padmasari pulled Nagantara closer. "We can't stay here. If they find us—"
Banujati raised a hand, signaling her to be silent.
He closed his eyes for a moment, drawing in a deep breath. Then, he parted his lips and whispered, "Padmasari, stay calm. They cannot see us… but they can feel our fear."
Padmasari held her breath, yet her grip on Nagantara tightened.
"But we can't stay silent forever," she murmured, her voice trembling slightly. "What are we supposed to do?"
"They have not found us yet," Banujati interrupted, his voice unwavering. "But if you keep radiating fear, they will know we are here."
Nagantara heard his words, but something inside him felt strange.
The voice was still in his head.
"You have been silent for too long..."
"Rise..."
Suddenly, his back burned once more.
Nagantara bit his lip, trying to suppress something he did not understand.
But…
He could feel something inside him, stirring. Something that had been asleep for a long, long time.
He took a deep breath. "Mother..." he whispered. "I don't feel well."
Padmasari looked at him in concern. "What do you feel, my son?"
Nagantara did not know how to answer. He could only stare at his mother.
The mist still wrapped around their home.
Silent. Oppressive.
Yet outside, the creature had not given up.
The scraping sound grew louder. Like claws raking against the ground… or something searching for a way in.
Padmasari bit her lip. Her arms still held Nagantara tightly, but her heart was pounding too fast.
She knew they were still hidden…
But for how long?
"Banujati..." she whispered, barely audible. "This barrier… how long will it hold?"
Banujati remained silent. His grip on his staff tightened, his gaze fixed forward.
"Long enough to give us time to think," he finally said. "But not long enough to stay here forever."
Nagantara heard those words.
The boy lowered his head slightly, but inside him, the voice kept whispering.
Then… something happened.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Footsteps… not just one, but many.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
From within the mist, the creature moved closer.
And this time, it was not alone.
Banujati frowned. He felt a strange tremor in the air.
The mist he had conjured began to shift… as if something was trying to break through.
"They are not merely searching," Banujati murmured. "They are beginning to sense us."
Padmasari held her breath. "What do you mean?"
"I can hide us from their eyes. But I cannot erase us from this world."
Amidst the growing tension, Nagantara suddenly lifted his face.
He could feel something. Not fear. Not the mist. But something within him, stirring.
"Mother…" he whispered. "They can smell us… because of me, can't they?"
Padmasari's eyes widened. "What do you mean?"
"I can feel it. It's not them who found us… but something inside me that is calling them."
Suddenly, from outside, a sharp, piercing voice echoed through the mist.
"At last… I have found you!"
The fog shielding the house trembled violently.
Banujati's expression darkened. "No… they've found us too quickly…"
Padmasari tightened her hold on Nagantara.
Outside, the shadows were closing in.
Time was running out.
The mist began to tear apart. The air quivered, as though the world itself knew that something was about to happen.
Banujati gripped his staff more firmly.
Padmasari shielded Nagantara, holding him closer.
And the creatures… they were now standing right in front of the house.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Their footsteps grew heavier.
Padmasari could see them now.
Through the thinning mist, the shadows moved closer, ever so slowly.
Their eyes glowed crimson. Their bodies were pure black, as if molded from darkness itself. Their arms were long, their fingers sharp like talons, poised to strike.
They were not human.
"They know we're here!" Padmasari's voice trembled.
Banujati did not respond. He merely stepped forward, placing himself between the creatures and Padmasari.
"Padmasari," he said in a deep, steady voice. "Protect Nagantara."
Nagantara stared at Banujati's back.
His hand touched the dragon mark on his own skin, now throbbing more intensely. He could feel it.
"Mother… I feel strange."
Padmasari turned to him in alarm. "What do you mean?"
Nagantara struggled to find the words. "Something… inside me… is responding to them."
Banujati heard this. His eyes narrowed. He was not surprised.
"I suspected this would happen… sooner than it should have."
The creatures no longer lingered. They were moving.
They were going to attack.
"Time is up. I can no longer keep us hidden."
Thud!
Banujati struck his staff against the earth. The wind howled louder.
"O Earth, strengthen your bounds."
"O Sky, shield those whose time has not yet come."
"O Time, let not what is not fated happen this night."
Thud!
At once, the ground trembled.
From beneath the soil, small roots began to emerge, creeping outward, weaving themselves into a protective circle around the house.
Padmasari gasped, her breath caught in her throat. "Banujati, what are you doing?!"
Banujati did not turn to her. His eyes remained locked on the creatures.
"Buying us more time."
Nagantara still watched him, but this time, something in his gaze had changed.
He was not afraid. He was curious.
And the strangest thing of all…
He felt as though he knew this power.
Then, something unexpected happened.
The creature smiled.
They did not retreat.
Instead…
They stepped forward, passing through the barrier of roots Banujati had summoned.
Padmasari gasped, though she still clung tightly to Nagantara.
Banujati… was silent. "That is impossible…" he murmured. His protection had failed.
These were no ordinary beings. And they had waited far too long for this moment.
Their footsteps drew closer.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Banujati did not move. Yet his fingers tightened around his wooden staff.
The wind whispered around him, carrying the scent of freshly disturbed earth.
Beyond the mist, one of the creatures stepped forward. Its eyes burned crimson, its fangs curled into a menacing grin, and its long, clawed hands lifted—ready to strike.
Banujati let out a slow breath. He raised his staff slightly, then struck it against the ground.
Thud!
The air trembled. The earth beneath them shifted, cracks spreading like living veins across the ground.
Then—
Crash!
From the soil, thick roots erupted, lashing upwards like living spears, striking toward the approaching creature.
It tried to dodge, but one root managed to coil around its leg.
Slash!
The creature snarled, slashing through the root with its talons, then turned back to Banujati with a wicked grin.
"So… you wish to fight?"
Its voice was raspy and deep—like two voices speaking at once, reverberating in the air and pressing heavily upon their chests.
Padmasari held her breath, clutching Nagantara even closer. Her face was pale as she stared at the creature.
"I am not the one they seek," Banujati's voice remained calm, but this time, there was a firmer edge to it. "But as long as I stand here, they will not lay a hand on him."
The creature chuckled darkly. "You think you can protect him? You are nothing but an old man with a wooden stick."
Banujati narrowed his eyes. "Watch and see."
The creature lunged. Its razor-sharp claws gleamed in the darkness, barely visible in the flickering firelight from the corner of the room.
But before the talons could reach Banujati—
Thud!
Banujati slammed his staff against the earth once more.
At once, the wind howled into a whirlwind. The ground beneath the creature softened—turning into sinking mud!
Squelch!
The creature stumbled, its body sucked downward as the earth itself turned into a living swamp.
But it was no ordinary foe. With a single motion, it slammed its claws into the ground, pushing itself free.
Slash!
It leapt higher, swinging its talons toward Banujati.
Banujati remained still.
In a swift motion, he twisted his staff, raising it before him.
"Aji Pancasakti."
Thud!
At once, a faint light shimmered from the tip of his staff, forming an invisible shield—a thick barrier of air.
Crash!
The creature's claws struck the shield, but instead of breaking through, it was flung backward!
It growled, but this time, its wicked grin faded.
"This old man…"
"… is not an ordinary human."
Nagantara could not look away.
For the first time, he saw Banujati fight.
He was not just a wise old man. He was someone who could stand against the darkness itself.
And strangely…
Nagantara felt something stir within him.
As if this power… was something he had known before.
"But this is not over yet."
The voice echoed again.
Then, from within the mist, more shadows began to emerge.
More of them. Not just one… but five.
Banujati's grip on his staff tightened.
"I cannot hold them all…"