After the elders of the great family concluded their meeting and reached an agreement to support the nobles of Tirta Negara in order to preserve regional stability, they dismissed themselves with thoughtful expressions. Their footsteps echoed through the main hall, leaving Eyang Pradipa alone, still seated cross-legged in his place.
As night deepened, Eyang Pradipa's mind grew even sharper. He closed his eyes, synchronizing his breath and inner spirit, then began to meditate. Waves of subtle energy spread from his body into the spiritual plane. In that stillness, he used the ancestral art of telepathy to contact Teguh, the father of Baskara.
"Teguh, tomorrow morning, send your son to meet me. There is something important I must tell him directly."
The message flowed gently yet firmly into Teguh's consciousness as he sat cross-legged in his home. He opened his eyes slowly and nodded.
"Understood, Eyang."
The night passed in silence, with only the soft whispers of the wind brushing against the leaves.
The next morning, a family envoy arrived to fetch Baskara in one of the great family's cars. Calmly, Baskara bid farewell to his father and mother before stepping into the vehicle. He didn't say much, but his expression revealed he understood—this was no ordinary meeting.
Some time later, at the main family residence, inside a study filled with ancient carvings and the scent of ancestral incense, Baskara sat directly across from Eyang Pradipa.
"Baskara," Eyang Pradipa's voice rumbled, "you must have heard—Mount Loka Geni has erupted. But I know you've also realized... that wasn't an ordinary eruption, was it?"
Baskara nodded slowly, not answering right away. His gaze was sharp, yet cautious.
Eyang Pradipa continued,
"You're right. The mountain exploded due to a clash of two great powers... two factions that are still not fully clear, but one came from the nobles of Tirta Negara, and the other from the capital Jayakarta—assisted by warriors from abroad."
The atmosphere grew tense.
"They fought over one thing, Baskara. A rare object—the Eternal Gem, a core of elemental fire energy capable of conquering regions and elevating the spiritual power of whoever possesses it."
Baskara listened intently.
"Our family, like it or not, is now entangled. We have agreed to support the local nobles of Tirta Negara. Not out of loyalty, but to keep this great fire from consuming our family."
Eyang Pradipa stared closely at his grandson.
"I know you witnessed the eruption firsthand. But it is not yet your time to get involved in this storm. That time will come. Before then, there are things you must learn—and I will begin preparing you, step by step."
Baskara bowed slightly.
"I understand, Grandfather..."
"Good, if you understand," said Eyang Pradipa, his eyes deep with wisdom. "My child, I will recommend a powerful technique for you—to understand and build as the foundation of your strength."
"Truly, Grandfather?" Baskara's eyes lit up.
"Of course. Come with me. I must also report this event to the ancestors."
Without delay, they left the study and made their way to a rarely visited part of the family complex—a sacred site accessible only to the main elders and chosen heirs. There stood an ancient stone temple, sturdy and graceful, covered in old carvings and a thick spiritual aura—the Temple of the Ancestors.
Within that temple, Empu Nala—a venerable sage who had long guarded the family's ancestral legacy—usually meditated, undisturbed by the outside world. He was the teacher of past generations, including Eyang Pradipa himself.
As they reached the sealed stone door of the temple, a deep voice suddenly rang from within:
"Enter."
The temple door slowly opened with the rumble of stone grinding against stone. A wave of heat and spiritual pressure swept over them. Baskara shivered—not from fear, but from the realization that he was about to face a vital part of his family legacy.
Eyang Pradipa gave a small smile.
"Yes, that's Empu Nala's voice. He's been expecting us. I contacted him earlier through meditation."
Baskara nodded, then stepped into the temple alongside his grandfather.
Once inside the ancient aura-filled temple, they were immediately greeted by the weighty voice of Empu Nala, the ancestral guardian.
"Sit."
His voice resonated through the air, as though echoing from another age.
They sat cross-legged on a flat stone platform, surrounded by small spiritual flames forming a sacred circle. Silence reigned—only breath and heartbeat filled the space.
Eyang Pradipa spoke up,
"Ancestor..."
But before he could continue, Empu Nala interrupted,
"Yes, I already know. Let us not waste time. I will get straight to the point."
He gazed at Baskara with penetrating eyes, as if seeing into his soul.
Eyang Pradipa added calmly,
"My child, this ancestor will give you something—a treasure, a technique, and... a map."
Empu Nala raised his right hand. From the air before him, a glowing relic emerged and slowly solidified into three objects: a small box containing a warm, radiant item; a scroll inscribed with a technique; and an ancient map sealed with crimson spiritual marks.
With deliberate movement, the map was placed before Baskara.
"You may use the treasure and the technique—if you can master them," said Empu Nala, his voice like thunder. "But this map..."
He stared at Baskara even more intently.
"You may only open it once you've reached the realm of Resi Loka. Remember that well."
His tone pierced deep into Baskara's awareness, as if to warn of dire consequences should he disobey.
Baskara swallowed hard, eyes showing both confusion and worry.
"Ancestor... why does all of this feel so sudden?" he asked softly, his voice strained with inner pressure. "Is this a sign of something great... or some danger that will befall our family?"
Silence fell. Empu Nala closed his eyes.
"I know what you're thinking," he said, calm yet resolute. "The fire from Mount Loka Geni did not just burn the land... it burned the order of things. What happened between the nobles of Tirta Negara and Jayakarta is just the surface. The roots of that conflict run deeper, older... and darker."
He locked eyes with Baskara, as if to etch the truth into him.
"Your family—and you—will stand at the heart of that storm. When it comes, I cannot yet say. But prepare yourself."
Baskara lowered his head, breath heavy. He knew—this was no longer mere training or a youthful adventure. He had stepped into the realm of fate itself.