They kept moving, leaving behind footprints that were slowly swallowed by the damp forest floor.
The air felt heavier.
Not just from exhaustion, but from something else—something they couldn't quite explain.
Nagantara walked slower than before. He tried to look around, but the thickening trees obstructed his view. The sunlight, which had once filtered through the gaps in the leaves, was now almost entirely blocked.
This forest felt darker, more oppressive.
Padmasari was the first to notice the change. She said nothing, but her sharp gaze swept over their surroundings—analyzing every detail that felt out of place.
Nagantara could sense the tension in his mother's body. He, too, couldn't ignore the unsettling feeling creeping over him.
Yet, there was no distant sound, no flickering shadows. Only… silence. A silence deeper than before.
Wisangkara continued walking at the front. His steps remained steady, but Nagantara noticed something different.
The old man was more alert now. He said nothing, but his grip on his staff had tightened. His pace was more measured, as if he was reading something from the very ground they walked upon.
After a while, Nagantara could no longer keep quiet. "Why does this forest feel different?"
His voice broke the silence, but it did not dispel the tension.
Wisangkara halted for a brief moment. He turned slightly, his sharp eyes locking onto Nagantara. "Because we are drawing closer to something that was meant to be long forgotten."
Nagantara frowned. "What do you mean?"
Wisangkara did not answer immediately.
Instead, he turned his gaze to the sky, which was now nearly hidden beneath the enormous leaves above. "Look around you, boy."
Nagantara glanced to his left and right. He saw trees larger than any he had ever encountered before. Their branches were thick and twisted, as though they were trying to clutch the sky itself. Massive roots sprawled across the ground, concealing whatever lay beneath them.
These trees… they were different.
Not just older. Not just darker. But as if they were holding something within them.
Padmasari finally spoke, her voice cold as it cut through the stillness. "So, we are getting closer to something that was never meant to be found?"
Wisangkara's lips curled into a faint smile, but it was not a reassuring one. "Nothing is ever truly lost—only hidden."
Nagantara bit his lip. The strange sensation within him only grew stronger.
It was as if… this forest remembered.
And they had just stepped into a place that was never meant to be disturbed.
Their steps carried them deeper into the forest, where the darkness grew ever thicker.
Nagantara could not shake the feeling that something in this place was older than he could comprehend.
Not just the towering trees, aged by hundreds of years. Not just the roots sprawling across the ground like the webbing of a giant. But something lurking behind it all. Something buried within this forest, waiting to be found.
Wisangkara suddenly stopped.
Padmasari and Nagantara halted at once.
Nagantara was about to ask why they had stopped, but before he could part his lips—
He saw it.
Before them, hidden amidst the thick undergrowth, lay the ruins of a stone structure, veiled by roots and moss.
Its shape was unclear, but the massive moss-covered stones hinted that this place once had form—a gate now collapsed, a structure long abandoned.
Nagantara swallowed hard. "What is this…?"
Wisangkara lifted his head, his gaze sharpening as he observed the ruins, as if reading something invisible to ordinary eyes.
Padmasari stepped forward slightly, sweeping her eyes across the remnants. "This place… has been abandoned for a long time."
"No." Wisangkara finally spoke.
He moved his fingers, brushing one of the still-standing stones. "This place was never truly abandoned."
Nagantara frowned. "What do you mean?"
Wisangkara tapped the stone lightly before withdrawing his hand. "There are things no longer seen, but that does not mean they are gone."
His eyes lingered on the ruins for a moment longer before he finally turned to face Padmasari and Nagantara. "This is a place that holds something."
A cold shiver crept up Nagantara's spine.
Holds something…?
He gazed at the great stones, their surfaces thick with moss and entwined with tree roots.
But then—
He realized something. These stones were not just ordinary ruins. There was something different about this place.
And stranger still—
He felt as though this place knew him. As if he had been here before… though he knew that was impossible.
Padmasari noticed the shift in his expression. "What is it, my son?"
Nagantara could not find a certain answer. But at last, he spoke in a hushed voice. "I feel like… this place is not unfamiliar."
Wisangkara's gaze deepened, as if weighing something in his mind.
But before he could say anything—
Nagantara heard it.
A sound.
Not from the forest. Not from Wisangkara or Padmasari. But from within the ruins themselves.
And somehow, the sound felt as if it was calling to him.
Nagantara remained still, staring at the ruins before him. The faint whisper he had heard still lingered in his ears, though it was no longer clear.
Not a human voice. Not the cry of an animal. But something older. As though this place still carried whispers of the past.
Wisangkara stepped closer to the ruins. He traced the standing pillars, though most had long since crumbled.
The stones were cloaked in moss, cracked in places, yet something drew Wisangkara's attention. He reached out and brushed his fingers along one of the pillars.
And there, he saw it—
Ancient carvings.
Padmasari moved closer, narrowing her eyes as she examined the symbols etched into the stone. "Can you read it?" she asked.
Wisangkara did not answer immediately. He wiped away more of the moss, revealing more of the hidden symbols beneath.
He read in silence, then finally spoke in a deep voice. "This is no ordinary ruin. This place holds something far greater."
He turned to face Padmasari and Nagantara with a more solemn expression.
"This is connected to something called… the Seal of Fate."
Nagantara furrowed his brows. "The Seal of Fate?"
He had never heard of it before.
And yet, strangely, the words felt familiar. As though he had heard them somewhere before… or in a memory he had yet to understand.
Wisangkara continued reading the carvings on the stone, though much of the ancient script was beyond his understanding. Time had eroded many parts, leaving only fragments to decipher.
But one thing caught his attention—
Four large symbols were etched into the pillar's surface.
Padmasari, who had remained silent, suddenly touched the back of her neck—a movement that did not escape Wisangkara's notice.
He studied her for a brief moment before turning his gaze back to the carvings with renewed focus. "Padmasari… the mark on your neck. One of these symbols resembles yours."
Padmasari's body tensed as her eyes locked onto the symbol. She turned to Wisangkara, her expression filled with unspoken questions. "What does this mean?"
Wisangkara stared at the symbols for a long moment before answering. "I cannot say for certain."
He tapped the pillar lightly with his fingertips before continuing, "But if this place is truly connected to the Seal of Fate… then we have ventured further than we were ever meant to."
A chill ran down Nagantara's spine.
This place…
What was hidden within it? And why did he feel as if it had been waiting for him all along?
Nagantara's gaze remained fixed on the symbols carved into the stone pillar.
Though their meaning was unknown to him, he felt something stir deep within. As if something inside him was reacting.
Perhaps these ruins were not the only ones holding a secret.
Perhaps he, too, was part of that secret.
Padmasari's hand lingered on her neck, her eyes locked onto the symbol that mirrored the mark on her skin.
Wisangkara studied the carvings for a long while, attempting to discern whatever knowledge time had not yet erased.
But before they could delve further—
Nagantara stepped forward without thinking. His hand reached out, his fingertips brushing against the stone's surface.
And at that moment—
The ground beneath them trembled.
Nagantara gasped, yanking his hand away. But the shaking did not stop.
Small stones scattered across the ruins began to shift, tumbling from the crevices. The air, already heavy, grew thicker—denser. As if the very place had awakened from a long slumber.
Padmasari quickly pulled Nagantara back. "Do not touch anything else!" Her voice was firm, but there was a strain of urgency in her tone.
Wisangkara scanned their surroundings with keen eyes. He did not panic, but his grip on his staff tightened. "This is no ordinary ruin. This place… still holds power."
A sound echoed from beneath the earth.
Not the voice of any living creature. Not the whisper of the wind. But something deeper.
Something ancient.
A lingering echo of the past that had not yet faded.
Nagantara strained to hear, but the sound was too faint to decipher.
Yet one thing was certain—
Something wanted to rise.
Then, as suddenly as it had begun, the tremors ceased.
As if nothing had ever happened.
But the air remained thick with unease, and none of them could shake the feeling that the ruins had just responded to their presence.
Padmasari's grip on Nagantara's arm remained firm, ensuring he did not move again.
Wisangkara's gaze lingered on the pillar Nagantara had touched. He said nothing, but in his eyes was a quiet realization—
This was no accident.
Nagantara had awakened something…
And they did not yet know what would come next.
The air still hung heavy with the weight of the disturbance.
Nagantara could not rid himself of the feeling that something had changed.
Not just this place.
But himself.
Padmasari still gripped his arm tightly, as if ensuring he wouldn't do anything else that might trigger another reaction.
Yet, Nagantara could not ignore what he had just felt.
For a fleeting moment, when his hand had touched the stone… something had flowed into him.
Not power. Not a voice. But an awareness that was difficult to explain.
As if this place knew him.
"We must leave." Wisangkara finally spoke, his voice calm but firm.
Padmasari studied him for a moment before nodding. She did not wish to take any further risks.
Nagantara wanted to ask more, but he held his tongue. He knew Wisangkara was not ready to explain what had just happened.
But before they left—Wisangkara drew his kris from his waist and carved something onto one of the stones.
"What are you doing?" Padmasari asked.
"Taking note."
Wisangkara was recording what he had seen. Though he could not yet decipher all the ancient script, he intended to study it later. He knew this place might be the key to something far greater.
Once finished, he slid his blade back into its sheath and cast one last glance at the ruins.
Then, without another word, he turned and began walking away.
Padmasari and Nagantara followed in silence.
But just before leaving entirely, Nagantara turned back one last time. His eyes lingered on the ruins, now slowly retreating into the shadows of the forest.
And in that moment, the strange sensation returned.
As if… something within those ruins was watching him.
Not with eyes.
Not with a physical presence.
But with something unseen.
Nagantara took a deep breath, then finally turned away. He could not be certain if it was merely his imagination…
Or if something was truly there.
And if it was…
Had they awakened it?
The sky, already dim, darkened further as they left the ruins behind.
Nagantara's steps felt lighter, but his thoughts remained behind, tangled with the mystery of that place.
What had he truly touched? Why did it feel so familiar, when he had never seen it before?
They decided to camp in a clearing, not far from the ruins.
Wisangkara kindled a small fire, letting its glow push back the chill of the night.
Padmasari sat upright, her gaze fixed into the darkness of the forest.
Nagantara could not sleep.
Not from the cold.
Not from the sounds of the forest.
But from the lingering sense that something was still watching them.
"Grandfather… do you know about the Seal of Fate?" Nagantara finally asked, his voice soft amid the crackling fire.
Wisangkara, who had remained quiet, slowly lifted his head. He gazed at Nagantara, then glanced at the sky before answering.
"I know a little."
"What does it mean?"
Wisangkara exhaled a quiet breath. "The Seal of Fate is not merely a mark. It is something that binds a person to events far greater than themselves."
Nagantara tried to grasp the meaning of those words. "So… it's like a curse?"
Wisangkara's eyes deepened. "No. A curse can be broken. But something like the Seal of Fate… cannot be erased. It is part of the one who bears it."
Padmasari remained silent, but her eyes betrayed her desire to hear more.
Yet, before Wisangkara could say anything further—
The sound came again.
Not an animal.
Not the wind.
But something moving in the darkness.
Padmasari instantly turned toward the noise.
Wisangkara remained still, yet his gaze sharpened.
Nagantara felt the chill return to his spine.
They were not alone.
In the distance, something—or someone—was shifting in the shadows.
And this time, it was not just a feeling.
It was real.