The next morning, sunlight streamed through the cracks in the bedroom window, gently brushing against Baskara's still-sleeping face. He stretched lazily before sitting up, rubbing his eyes with his small hands.
With messy hair and sleepy steps, he trudged toward the kitchen. His half-open eyes caught sight of his mother, busy preparing breakfast.
"Heyyy… pretty mom…" Baskara greeted with a drowsy voice, one eye still shut, winking playfully.
Tirta turned around, bursting into laughter at her son's antics. "Hahaha! You little flirt!" she teased, giving his head a soft tap and pinching his cheek until it turned red.
"Ow, ow! That hurts, Mom!" Baskara whined dramatically, rubbing his cheek.
But suddenly, amid the teasing, a deep voice came from the living room.
"Ahem… looks like someone's having fun this morning."
They both turned their heads. Baskara quickly put on a fake serious face and pointed toward the man who had just stepped in through the doorway.
"Well, well, well… Dad! So you do remember the way home, huh? And you still care about your wife and kid, apparently…" he said with a teasing tone and a mischievous grin.
Teguh, his father, chuckled softly. "You little rascal," he said, gently tugging on Baskara's ear.
"Ow ow, Dad! That hurts too!" Baskara yelped again, hamming it up even more.
Tirta clapped her hands, trying to break up the chaos. "Alright, enough! Breakfast's ready. You two barely reunited a few hours ago and already causing a ruckus."
She placed plates of nasi uduk, spiced eggs with keluwak, and slices of spiritual fruit on the table.
"What time did you get home, Dad?" Baskara asked, climbing onto the sofa.
"Just earlier… around five this morning," Teguh replied, sitting down and removing his slightly dusty leather gloves.
Teguh was a mid-level Semediawan in his forties, though he looked like he was in his thirties. His skin was clear, his body sturdy, and his eyes sharp—like someone who lived by discipline and kept secrets. Not without reason—Semediawan had their ways of slowing aging, maintaining bodily energy, and preserving vitality.
For the past few months, Teguh had been away on business related to the greater Semediawan family—usually involving territorial negotiations, spiritual defense lines, or sometimes… hidden conflicts between schools.
But this morning, the house felt warm again with his presence. Laughter, jokes, and the aroma of food filled the air, making everything feel normal—even though Baskara was hiding a big secret from the night before.
After breakfast, Baskara's curious side began to show—he just couldn't sit still. His eyes sparkled with excitement, and as usual, his mind was buzzing with questions.
"Hehehe… since Dad's home, I might as well ask the expert," he muttered with a sly grin.
"Dad, Dad! I want to ask you about Semediawan!" he exclaimed, walking over with his leftover juice.
Teguh calmly sipped his warm tea and nodded. "Go ahead, ask."
"What exactly is a Semediawan?"
Teguh set down his cup. "A Semediawan is someone who can channel spiritual energy from nature into their body. They use different techniques depending on the path they follow. But… it all starts with one thing: strengthening the body."
"The body comes first?" Baskara asked, now serious.
"Yes. Your body must be strong enough to hold the flow of energy. After that comes the stage of opening the nadi—the energy pathways in your body. Then comes padet sukma, where you condense the spiritual energy that once flowed freely. And the deepest stage is jagat jiwa—the union of energy, consciousness, and soul."
Teguh raised one finger at a time. "Each stage has four levels: initial, intermediate, advanced, and perfected. Reaching even one can take years."
Baskara fell silent, his face serious and slightly stunned. This explanation was far deeper than anything he'd ever heard—even during his ten years in the womb, not once had he overheard a conversation like this.
"Hey, why so quiet?" Teguh asked with a smile.
"Eh? Oh, yeah—I get it now," Baskara replied quickly, trying to look smart.
"Pfft, look at you—already acting like an expert," Teguh teased, giving his son's head a light pat.
"I'm heading to Grandpa's place now, after a shower," Teguh said, rising from his seat.
"Eh… wait, Dad!"
Teguh turned around. "What is it now?"
"When someone's meditating… can their spiritual energy affect the things around them?" Baskara asked cautiously, recalling the chaos in his room the night before.
Teguh frowned slightly, then answered casually, "Hm… usually no. That energy is subtle—barely noticeable unless you intend to release it outward."
Baskara nodded quickly. "Oh… okay," he said, forcing a smile to hide his nerves.
Teguh stared at him for a few seconds, suspicious, but said nothing and walked off.
Meanwhile, Baskara remained where he was, his eyes darting toward the stairs leading to his room, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
"So… last night was strange after all."
Night fell. Stars glittered in the sky like soft, shining specks. The air was cool, and Baskara's house felt calmer than usual. His parents were still at Grandpa's place—talking over family matters.
Baskara, of course, wasn't going to let this chance slip by.
"Yoshhh! Time to try it outside," he said with enthusiasm, eyes gleaming. "While Mom and Dad aren't around…"
He carefully stepped outside, walking toward a small hill at the edge of the family estate. It was still within the Semediawan family's territory, but far enough to give him some privacy.
Baskara sat cross-legged on a flat rock, surrounded by gently swaying wild grass.
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and began to focus. In the quiet night, he could feel the presence of spiritual energy around him—flowing softly like a gentle breeze. The strange event from the night before returned, but this time, it was much more controlled. No objects fell, no shaking. Just a soft breeze swirling slowly around him.
Now, with his father's explanation of the Semedi stages, Baskara had a clearer idea of where to begin. Since the age of five, he had been training his body on his own—using books and simple physical exercises. He had also unknowingly strengthened himself with spiritual foods prepared by his mother.
His original goal was simple—to avoid getting sick easily. But Baskara's body turned out to be unique. By the time he was seven, his physical resilience matched—or exceeded—that of a ten-year-old. He had passed the first realm with ease and had already begun the stage of opening his nadi.
"Alright… let's improve this energy circulation," he murmured, beginning to control his breathing and focus on the energy pathways inside him.
Spiritual energy began to flow, tracing the energy channels in his body like tiny rivers searching for the sea. Baskara worked on widening those channels, imagining each one as a pipe that needed expansion for better and faster flow.
His body began to feel warm… then refreshed… then light, as if all burdens were lifted. His breathing felt freer than ever.
"Waaah… my body feels amazing. So light and clear," he whispered, slightly opening his eyes. "Is this what they call… the minor realm?"
He wasn't sure. There were no references that described how it felt to ascend realms—minor or major. He only knew one thing: his body was responding much faster than expected.
"Alright… let's keep going."
A small smile formed on his lips. Even though he didn't fully understand everything yet, his instincts and natural intellect continued to push him beyond his limits.
The next morning, the atmosphere in Baskara's house was more serious than usual. In the main room, both his parents called him to sit with them.
"Baskara," said Teguh calmly, looking his son in the eye. "Tomorrow, there will be a gathering of the extended family at the main hall. You're coming with us."
Baskara nodded casually. "Okay, Dad. I'll come."
Then Teguh glanced at his wife before turning back to Baskara.
"And one more thing… You're old enough now to begin your basic education. So I have to ask—do you want to go through regular formal schooling? Or…"
After that, Teguh glanced at his wife, then looked back at his son. "One more thing… You're old enough to start basic education now. So I have to ask—do you want to attend a regular school? Or a hybrid one that also teaches martial arts?"
The question made Baskara pause for a moment. In this era of civilization, formal schools still existed, especially for ordinary people who didn't walk the path of meditation—either because they had no potential, or simply weren't interested.
"Hmm…" Baskara scratched his head even though it wasn't itchy. "Maybe just a regular school, Dad?"
Teguh raised an eyebrow, a little surprised. "But haven't you been asking a lot about meditation and its techniques? I thought you were interested."
Baskara grinned, folding his arms behind his head. "Hehe, I was just curious. Nothing serious…"
In truth, Baskara had chosen the regular school on purpose. He didn't want to stand out too much—especially not in a way that would make people realize he was different from other kids. He wanted to live a normal life, at least for now.
Besides, he had chosen to attend the school owned by his extended family, located within the Semediawan family compound. It was close to home, and he could see his parents more often—especially his father, who frequently traveled out of town on family duties.
"Alright then," Teguh said with a nod. "We'll get ready tomorrow morning."
"Heh… and here I thought you and Dad didn't have any plans to go anywhere," Tirta chimed in with a gentle smile, reaching out to stroke Baskara's head lovingly.
"You really are something…" she added with a warm gaze.
Baskara just chuckled quietly, hiding something far bigger than just a school choice—a secret about his meditation practice that even his parents didn't know.
The next morning, in front of a grand gate made of steel adorned with colorful traditional Nusantara carvings, two adult men stood at attention. They wore formal black suits, the signature look of the Semediawan family, and were greeting arriving guests while checking invitation cards one by one.
When they saw the three new arrivals—Teguh, Tirta, and Baskara—the guards immediately bowed politely.
"Good morning, Sir, Ma'am, and Young Master," they greeted in unison.
"Morning," Teguh replied casually. "How's the attendance so far?"
"About half the guests have arrived, Sir," one of the guards answered.
"Alright then, we'll head in."
"Please, go ahead."
As the three of them stepped into the main hall, a lively atmosphere greeted them. The room was spacious, decorated in elegant colors while still maintaining a warm, familial feel. The air was filled with the sound of conversations as guests greeted and chatted with each other.
"Oy, Teguh!" a voice suddenly called from the side.
Teguh turned. "Oh, hey, Kak Roni! What's up?"
Though they weren't actually related, calling older people "Kak" had long been a tradition in their community.
"Come over here. Let's grab a drink and talk about that business matter from yesterday. I've also got something important to discuss."
"Sure, sure." Teguh turned to his wife. "Honey, I'll be over there for a bit. You two go find a seat first."
"Alright," Tirta replied softly, gently holding Baskara's hand.
After walking around for a bit, Tirta and Baskara found an empty spot in a cozy corner of the room. Just as they sat down, two small children came over—a cheerful little girl with neatly braided hair, and a slightly shy-looking boy.
"Hi, Auntie!" the girl greeted brightly.
"Oh, hi Dinda, Fajar!" Tirta responded with a warm smile. "Where's your mom?"