Akasa and the woman sat facing each other inside the royal carriage, yet silence lingered heavily between them. Akasa looked awkward, unsure how to start a conversation, while she sat cross-legged with her arms folded, eyes closed—clearly uninterested in speaking first.
The distance between their feet was less than a meter. And yet, neither of them spoke.
At last, she slowly extended her arms and assumed a meditative posture.
“Sampun celak.”
(“We’re close.”)
She spoke without opening her eyes.
Akasa frowned. From the window, all he could see was endless grassland stretching as far as the eye could reach.
The moonlight illuminating the star-filled night sharpened his view—but there was nothing. No settlements. No unusual trees. Nothing at all.
Then, thick white mist suddenly rose from east to west, towering upward until it reached the sky itself—leaving behind the image of a colossal white wall cutting off the road across the vast savanna.
She shifted her right hand gently to the side, as if parting an invisible veil only she could see, while her left hand remained in meditation.
A second later, a sound like crashing waves echoed.
At the far end of the road, a straight line appeared—slowly splitting the towering wall of white mist from bottom to top.
It was as if the sky itself had been torn open.
Light spilled from within, transforming the dark, silent night into something resembling early morning.
Strange—yet undeniably real. Nothing about it made sense.
Akasa could only stare, letting the phenomenon silence his reasoning—until defiance of logic began to feel… natural.
The glowing rift widened gradually, creating an opening large enough for the carriage to pass through.
They entered.
Moments later, the sound of roaring waves echoed once more—signaling the closing of the passage behind them.
They were back inside a misty forest. Yet the atmosphere had changed.
It now felt like the moment between dawn and sunrise—despite the fact that just seconds ago, the world had been engulfed in darkness.
Fortunately, the strangeness did not frighten Akasa. Instead, awe slowly took over—until he nearly forgot the important figure sitting silently across from him.
She glanced at him, confused.
There was a reason she was bringing him to face the Queen. Something else troubled her mind—and perhaps the Queen could provide answers.
Her expression hardened once more, masking the curiosity stirring beneath.
“Cah bisu!”
(“Mute boy!”)
She called out to Akasa, who had not spoken a word throughout the journey.
Akasa replied casually.
“Kulo boten bisu.”
(“I’m not mute.”)
“Sinten asmamu?”
(“What’s your name?”)
She lifted her chin slightly, her posture radiating aristocratic pride.
“Satrio… Akasa,” he answered hesitantly, but still gave his full name.
“Sampeyan sumerep kula sinten?”
(“Do you know who I am?”)
Her tone was gentle—yet tinged with arrogance. Naturally so. She was a figure of immense influence throughout the kingdom.
“Penculik?”