The morning air felt lighter as they stepped out from beneath the thick canopy of trees that had sheltered their journey for so long.
After days of walking under the shadow of a somber and secret-laden forest, they had finally arrived at an open expanse.
Nagantara paused at the end of the narrow path, lifting his head to gaze upon the vast sky stretching above him.
For the first time in what felt like ages, he could see the sky unobstructed by towering branches. And for the first time, he felt as though he could breathe more freely.
Before them lay a vast valley, stretching as far as the eye could see.
In the distance, mountains rose high, their peaks shrouded in a thin veil of mist that drifted lazily with the wind.
Nagantara could not contain his awe. All his life, he had known only the world confined within his village and the surrounding forest. But now, he stood before something far greater—something he had never laid eyes upon before.
He turned to Wisangkara, intending to say something, but the old man merely offered a faint smile, as if he already knew his thoughts.
Padmasari surveyed their surroundings with keen eyes.
Just because they had left the forest did not mean danger had passed.
"Where do we go now?" she asked, her voice still wary.
Wisangkara fixed his gaze upon the distant mountains. "There."
Nagantara followed his line of sight, staring at the towering peaks. "Is there something there?"
Wisangkara did not answer at once. But when he finally spoke, his tone was more solemn than before. "There is something long hidden beyond those mountains."
Nagantara studied the peaks for a moment longer. He did not know what awaited them there, but one thing was certain—their journey was far from over. They may have left the forest behind… but perhaps, a greater peril awaited ahead.
They stood at the edge of the valley, gazing at the mountains looming in the distance.
Nagantara was still captivated by the vastness of the world unfolding before him. Yet beneath its beauty, something greater awaited—something unseen, though Wisangkara seemed to know it well.
"Beyond those mountains…" Wisangkara finally spoke, his voice calm but laden with meaning. "Lies a hidden city."
Nagantara turned to him. "A city? Is it like our village?"
Wisangkara gave a small smile, though his eyes remained serious. "No. This city is not like the villages you are familiar with. It has long been avoided by ordinary folk."
He stared toward the mountains, as if recalling something not easily put into words. "But once… it was a center of knowledge."
Padmasari furrowed her brows. "Why is it hidden?"
Wisangkara exhaled softly before answering. "There are many reasons. Some may have been lost to time. But one thing is clear—not all knowledge should be placed in the hands of the irresponsible."
There was something different in Wisangkara's voice now, as if he had once lived through something connected to that place. But before Nagantara could ask, the old man continued.
"We are going there."
Nagantara gazed up at the towering mountains. He had no idea what awaited them beyond. But he knew they had no choice but to move forward.
They began their descent into the valley, drawing closer to the mountains that would soon become their greatest obstacle yet.
Nagantara felt the journey pulling him further away from everything he had ever known.
Once, he had been just a boy living in a small village, knowing nothing of the world beyond. But now, he was walking toward something that had long been hidden from the world.
And for the first time, he truly wondered…
What lay beyond?
Their journey down the valley remained eerily silent.
Nagantara sensed something different in the air—not the tension of the forest, but something else. As if they were approaching something that had been waiting for them all along.
Padmasari remained vigilant, even though the open terrain made them feel slightly safer.
Meanwhile, Wisangkara strode ahead in silence.
But before they could take another step—
Someone stood in the middle of their path.
Nagantara halted at once, as did Padmasari and Wisangkara.
The man stood there at ease, as if he had been waiting for them for quite some time. His clothes bore the marks of long travel, worn yet well-kept.
A bow and a quiver of arrows were fastened securely to his back, while a sword rested at his waist.
His gaze was sharp, yet not hostile. Even as they stopped, he offered them a warm smile. As though this meeting was no mere coincidence, but something that had been meant to happen all along.
"Good afternoon. Your journey must have been tiring."
The man's voice was calm, warm, and utterly devoid of threat.
Padmasari, however, narrowed her eyes, unwilling to trust a stranger so easily. "Who are you?" she asked bluntly.
The man chuckled, though it was not a mocking laugh. "A wanderer. Nothing more, nothing less."
He gave a slight shrug before taking a step forward. Yet, he stopped at a respectful distance, making it clear he meant no harm.
Nagantara observed him closely. This man moved lightly, with no signs of exhaustion, as if he were neither lost nor uncertain of his path. Even the way he stood spoke of someone well-accustomed to long journeys.
The stranger studied them one by one, and when his eyes met Wisangkara's, his smile grew wider. "I have long wished to meet someone like you."
Nagantara felt a subtle shift in the air around them.
Wisangkara remained calm, showing no sign of surprise, but his eyes sharpened. "What do you mean?"
The man did not answer immediately.
Instead, he glanced up at the sky before turning back to them.
"Because this journey is not yours alone. There is something far greater behind it."
Nagantara frowned.
How could this stranger possibly know such a thing?
At last, Wisangkara spoke, his voice steady yet laced with caution. "Let us first see where this conversation leads."
The wanderer said nothing more but continued walking toward them before turning and falling into step beside them. As if he had already decided to join their journey—or perhaps, he had intended to from the very start.
Padmasari was not entirely comfortable with the stranger's presence, but she did not object.
Nagantara studied the man with growing curiosity but, in the end, merely resumed walking.
Their journey toward the mountain had just taken an unexpected turn.
After their encounter with the mysterious wanderer, their march continued.
The man spoke little, yet his steps matched theirs perfectly, following without hesitation.
From time to time, Padmasari cast him sidelong glances, still not fully convinced of his intentions, though she remained silent.
Nagantara was uncertain whether the stranger was someone to be trusted, but he stayed close to his mother, maintaining a safe distance.
The towering mountain before them loomed ever nearer, but the path became more treacherous.
The ground grew rocky, and the wind sweeping down from the mountain's peak carried a biting chill.
Nagantara pulled his scarf tighter around his neck, bracing himself against the growing cold.
Wisangkara pressed on with unwavering steps, as though he had known this path for years.
Meanwhile, the wanderer followed with quiet ease, as if this difficult terrain was nothing new to him.
Padmasari, though still watchful, could not ignore the feeling that they were drawing closer to something of great significance.
"We are nearly there."
The wanderer finally spoke, his calm voice carrying clearly over the whispering wind that swept down from the mountains.
Nagantara turned to him. "Nearly where?"
The wanderer gave a small smile, but his gaze remained fixed ahead. "The city hidden beyond the mist."
Nagantara followed his gaze—and at that moment, he saw it.
Before them, the path narrowed, flanked by towering natural rock walls.
But stranger still—a thick mist clung to the end of the trail.
Unlike ordinary fog that dissipates with time, this mist remained dense, as if it were guarding something within.
A chill ran down Nagantara's spine. He had seen mist before, but never one like this.
It was like an invisible wall, separating the outside world from something concealed within.
Padmasari halted. Her eyes fixed upon the mist, her expression unreadable. "Are you certain this is the way?"
The wanderer chuckled softly, then met Padmasari's gaze with a steady look. "There is no other way into the city… except through this mist."
Nagantara swallowed hard. He turned to Wisangkara, searching for an answer from the old man.
But Wisangkara remained silent for a moment before finally nodding. "This is no ordinary mist."
He lifted his head, studying the mist as though he understood its nature. "It is a protective veil that has shielded the city for countless years."
Nagantara frowned in confusion. "What do you mean, Grandfather?"
Wisangkara did not answer immediately.
Instead, the wanderer rested a hand upon the hilt of his sword before speaking. "Once you step inside, there is no turning back. You will either find the city… or be lost forever."
Nagantara furrowed his brows.
No turning back?
He glanced at Padmasari, but his mother remained silent, deep in thought.
Wisangkara let out a slow breath, then stepped forward. "We have come this far. We will enter."
Padmasari gave a small nod, though her expression remained cautious.
Nagantara inhaled deeply.
Then, without further hesitation—
They stepped into the mist.
And as they did—
The world around them changed.
The mist enveloped them from all sides.
The moment they entered, the world around them seemed to shift.
Nagantara could see nothing but the faint silhouettes of his mother and Wisangkara ahead.
The air grew colder, as if the mist was more than mere vapor.
Their footsteps became softer, the ground beneath them yielding slightly—like damp earth after a rain.
But there was no other sound. No wind. No rustling of leaves. No distant cries of night creatures.
Only silence, thicker than before.
Nagantara edged closer to Padmasari, making sure they did not drift apart.
Wisangkara pressed on, his steps unwavering, undeterred by the mist.
The wanderer, following just behind, moved effortlessly, as if he already knew the mist would not mislead him.
Nagantara wanted to ask something, but for some reason, the words caught in his throat. Perhaps it was the cold air. Or perhaps… it was the feeling that they were stepping into something far greater than they could imagine.
Suddenly, the mist began to thin. Slowly, a massive shape emerged before them—
A wall of stone.
Nagantara's eyes widened.
The wall was tall, vast, and adorned with ancient carvings, their patterns faint beneath the moss that clung to the stone.
Padmasari halted, studying the carvings with cautious eyes. "This… is no ordinary village."
Wisangkara gave a slow nod. "We have arrived."
Nagantara lifted his head, trying to glimpse beyond the towering wall, but the mist still veiled its peak from sight.
Yet before he could speak—
Footsteps echoed from beyond the wall.
And then—
The great stone gate began to open.
From within, an old man in long robes emerged.
His face bore the deep lines of age, yet his gaze was sharp and full of understanding. He stood calmly before the gate, his eyes passing over each of them in turn.
But when his gaze settled upon Wisangkara, a faint smile crossed his lips. "At last, you have come."
Nagantara watched as Wisangkara bowed slightly, a gesture of deep respect.
And for the first time since this journey began, Wisangkara spoke a name with reverence.
"Master Wredanata."
Nagantara kept his eyes on the robed elder standing before the stone gate.
The air around them remained cold, yet it was no longer the mist's doing—it was the stillness of the city itself.
Master Wredanata regarded them with eyes both piercing and calm. "You have traveled far."
Nagantara could not shake the feeling that something was amiss, though he could not quite grasp what. His eyes roamed the city, attempting to understand this place they had just entered. And that was when he noticed it.
He turned, searching for someone who should have been among them. But he found nothing.
Nagantara frowned and glanced toward his mother and Wisangkara. They did not seem to realize what he had just discovered.
He took a step back, looking toward the city's entrance, where the mist still lingered.
There was no one there. No fresh footprints. And, most strangely—no sign of where the wanderer had gone.
"He…" Nagantara finally spoke, though his voice wavered slightly.
Padmasari turned to him, noting the uncertainty in his expression. "What is it?"
Nagantara hesitated before meeting their eyes, as if questioning whether they, too, had noticed. "He… is gone."
Padmasari's brows furrowed. "Who?"
Nagantara swallowed. "The wanderer. He entered the city with us… didn't he?"
Padmasari quickly glanced around, her expression shifting.
Wisangkara remained silent, yet his gaze revealed that he, too, had realized something.
Nagantara felt his chest tighten.
How could someone who had walked beside them only moments ago… simply vanish?
Master Wredanata merely gave a small, knowing smile, as though their confusion was of no surprise to him. "It seems he was only meant to bring you here."
Nagantara stared at the old man, searching his face for answers.
But Master Wredanata offered no further explanation.
And for the first time since this journey began, Nagantara felt the mysteries surrounding them grow even deeper.
Who was the wanderer, truly? And why had he disappeared the moment they arrived?