[7:25 AM] Grand Hall of the Ardana Kingdom
Raffy, who had guarded Akasa’s past in silence for so long, had finally chosen to open up—sharing the burden with his friends at last.
Meanwhile, within the grand hall of the Ardana Kingdom, the Queen—her consciousness forcibly pulled back into reality—still appeared shaken after witnessing the painful fragments of Akasa’s past.
The resemblance between Akasa’s mother and herself, coupled with the family’s tragic fate, left behind a strange sensation—like deep-seated trauma entwined with longing—etched into the Queen’s heart.
Distant, yet close. Painful, yet warm. Foreign, yet hauntingly nostalgic. Those emotions intertwined into a quiet turmoil, as if the memories were not merely Akasa’s—but somehow her own.
And yet, the Queen was not the only one shaken. Akasa—the bearer of that past—was unraveling.
Tears streamed down his face. His gaze was hollow. His breathing uneven. His body slumped forward, knees weak, head bowed—motionless upon the crimson carpet of the royal hall.
No one knew what had truly happened.
___. Silence fell .___
For the first time, the people of Ardana witnessed their revered ruler—Queen Vishaka Zafia—visibly shaken.
But as her eyes lingered on Akasa’s broken form, something shifted within her. A quiet voice whispered in her heart—urging her not to remain still.
She straightened her posture and stepped forward, approaching Akasa slowly. Her voice broke the silence—gentle, yet firm.
“Gesang pancen werat, nanging aja dadosaken alesan katur kendel berjuang.”
(“Life is indeed heavy, but do not let it become a reason to stop fighting.”)
“Kersanipun lelahmu kala niki… dados pepenget katur dados sosok ingkang langkung sae ing lajeng dinten.”
(“Let the weariness you feel today become a reminder to become a better person in the days ahead.”)
Her voice was soft—yet Akasa did not respond.
“Ing purnama teng pitu ing dinten wolu—sangang dinten saking samangke—tabir dimensi ingkang misahaken kalih donya badhe bikak.”
(“On the seventh full moon, on the eighth day—nine days from now—the dimensional veil separating the two worlds will open.”)
“Menika kala sampeyan saged wangsul.”
(“Only then you’ll be able to return home.”)
Slowly, Akasa’s bowed head began to lift. His eyes were still empty. His body remained rigid.
“Salebetipun wekdal niku, sampeyan saged mapan mriki. Kami badhe jamaken kawilujenganmu.”
(“Until that time comes, you may stay here. We’ll guarantee your safety.”)
A gentle smile followed.
“Nak... sinten asmamu?”
(“My dear child... what’s your name?”)
“Satrio… Akasa,” he answered faintly.
“Sampeyan gadhah asma ingkang sae.”