As dawn broke, Arya's house grew busy. His mother was already bustling in the kitchen, while Arya and Dio, with tired faces and swollen eyes, had to face the bitter truth—they were the ones sent to the market.
"Get up, no lazing around!" Arya's mother's firm voice echoed through the house.
"I just fell asleep, Mom..." Arya grumbled, rubbing his heavy eyes. Dio, emerging from the room, looked calmer but just as disheveled. "Shopping this early? Why not in the afternoon?" he asked.
"Because in the afternoon, the chickens are gone. Now hurry, before the sun rises!" his mother shot back, leaving no room for argument.
Inside Arya's room, Rika was still sound asleep, hugging a little pillow she had somehow found. Nagini sat gracefully in the corner, eyes closed as if meditating.
"Why aren't they asked to go?" Dio muttered, gesturing toward Rika and Nagini with his chin.
"One's a lazy ghost, the other's not even human," Arya replied, hefting the shopping bag. Dio only sighed heavily.
The Market TripThe market was only a few kilometers away. The narrow path they took was still dark and cold, filled with the distant sound of roosters crowing. Arya yawned repeatedly as they walked, while Dio stared straight ahead, fighting off his drowsiness.
When they finally arrived, Dio froze at the shopping list Arya's mother had given them. "She said just chickens," he muttered, glaring at the bulging bag now stuffed with banana leaves, vegetables, spices, and all sorts of other things. "This is shopping for a feast."
Arya chuckled softly, resigned. "That's the market for you—always more than you planned."
As they were leaving, Arya suddenly stopped at a quieter lane of the market. He pointed at a misty hill in the distance. "Over there..." he said softly, voice serious. "That's the place I told you about. The one from my dream."
Dio, who had been fussing with the shopping bag, turned sharply, his face tense. His eyes widened before he quickly looked away. "Cut the nonsense," he muttered coldly. But his body language betrayed something else—a fear he tried to hide.
Arya only gave a faint smile and said no more. They continued walking home in sudden silence.
Back HomeWhen they returned, they handed the groceries to Arya's mother. Neighbors had already arrived to help prepare food for the evening's ceremony. The kitchen buzzed with chatter and laughter as the women worked together.
In the living room, Arya's uncle and other relatives began gathering. Arya approached them nervously, worried about a repeat of last night's tension between his uncle, Nagini, and Rika.
But this time, the atmosphere felt calmer. Most of Arya's uncles and relatives—many of them spiritual practitioners—didn't seem too concerned about the two spirits. They kept their voices low, discussing the plan for the night without sparing Nagini or Rika a glance.
Rika, freshly woken, peeked from behind the door while rubbing her eyes. "Arya, why is it so noisy?" she asked sleepily.
"My uncles and cousins are here," Arya answered briefly.
Nagini, standing behind her, tapped Rika's shoulder lightly. "Be polite. Don't cause trouble."
Rika nodded, though she still looked drowsy and confused.
Amid the bustle, Arya glanced at Dio, who sat in the corner sharpening a blade. "We're not done talking about that hill," Arya whispered.
Dio looked up briefly, then returned to his blade. "There's nothing to talk about. Just focus on tonight."
Arya sighed deeply. He knew Dio was hiding something but chose not to push—for now. Tonight, he realized, would mark the beginning of something much larger than any of them had faced.
The CeremonyThat evening, long mats were spread across Arya's yard. Dim yellow bulbs hung overhead. The cool night air carried the scent of jasmine blossoms used as decoration. Villagers began arriving, invited personally by Arya, for the communal prayer feast—bancakan—held to honor the ancestors.
Arya and Dio were neatly dressed in sarongs and blangkons borrowed from the neighbors. Standing outside their room, they waited to join the guests.
"You two look so cool~~!" Rika exclaimed, eyes sparkling.
Arya and Dio's faces flushed red, both looking down in embarrassment. Dio, usually stoic, scratched his neck awkwardly, avoiding her gaze.
"I want to try wearing a blangkon too!" Rika said eagerly.
Smiling, Arya grabbed a spare blangkon from a chair and placed it on her head. Because she was shorter with a round face, it made her look like a decorated mochi.
"How do I look? Cute, right?" Rika asked proudly.
For once, Dio burst out laughing. "You look like a kid about to perform in a school play!" he teased.
Arya, however, froze for a moment, staring at her with quiet admiration. In his heart, he whispered, Adorable... But he quickly looked away before either of them noticed.
When It BeganOnce everyone had gathered, the ceremony began. The village elder, a white-haired man with a gentle yet commanding voice, led the prayer in ancient Javanese. The crowd fell silent, listening with reverence. The sacred stillness, broken only by the prayer's cadence, filled the night with a solemn aura.
After about twenty minutes, the prayers ended, and the food prepared earlier was served. Following tradition, guests packed some to take home as blessings from the feast.
Conversations on the PorchWhen it was over, Dio slipped into the room to change out of his stifling clothes. Meanwhile, Arya joined his uncles on the porch, where they sipped coffee and chatted casually.
"I should apologize for not telling you about my friends," Arya said carefully.
"Friends, huh?" Uncle Ran, thin and wiry, replied with a faint smile.
Uncle Nar—the same one who had clashed with Nagini last night—set his cup down on its saucer. "I've already explained the situation to them, so they'll be prepared for anything," he said.
Arya's eyes flicked to Uncle Nar's wrists and fingers, noticing the sheer number of bracelets and rings he wore. Of course... charms for protection, Arya thought with a flat expression.
"So, where will you all go after this?" Uncle Ran asked, sipping his coffee.
"To the hill," Arya answered shortly.
"The hill, eh?" Uncle Nar smiled faintly. "When you were little, you often went there, didn't you?"
Arya froze. "When I was little? I went there?" he asked quietly, trying to recall. But no memories surfaced.
"Be careful," Uncle Nar warned, his eyes sharp. "That red woman should be able to protect you."
Arya frowned, puzzled by his words. He didn't ask further—his uncle's remarks were always cryptic. He would have to uncover the truth himself.
Inside, Nagini sat by the window, gazing at the same hill Arya had mentioned that morning. Her face was grave, as though she carried a secret she wouldn't share with anyone.
The Journey to the HillThat night, the four of them set out toward the hill behind Arya's house. The quiet was filled only by their footsteps and the crunch of leaves beneath them. Arya led with a small flashlight, its beam dancing across the rocky path.
"Why are we even here? This path is creepy," Rika complained, glancing around nervously. She walked in the middle, flanked by Dio on one side and Arya on the other, seeking safety.
"My uncle said I used to come here when I was little," Arya replied casually. He glanced at her and smiled faintly. "Besides, it's the best spot to find cell signal."
Rika huffed, unconvinced that was worth the risk.
After twenty minutes, they reached a weathered black-stone gate, an old Javanese-style structure still standing despite moss and cracks. Under the moonlight, it looked like something pulled from folklore, eerie and foreboding.
Arya stepped forward, urging them onward. But Nagini suddenly froze at the threshold, eyes locked on the gate.
Her gaze shifted. Her eyes widened as if she were seeing something invisible to the others. The night wind swept through her crimson hair, but she didn't move. Flickers of images filled her mind—elderly figures in traditional garb, faces twisted with anger, and mantras echoing as if shaking the very air.
"Nagini?" Dio called carefully. But she didn't respond.
Rika, unsettled by her silence, stepped closer. "Mother Nagini, what's wrong?" she asked, reaching out to touch her hand.
Before she could, a sudden chill swept over them, sharp and biting. Rika yelped and darted behind Arya, shivering.
"What is this place really?" Dio asked. His tone was calm, but his eyes showed alertness.
Arya swept his flashlight over the gate, searching for clues. Nothing but faded carvings.
All eyes turned to Nagini, who finally spoke after a long, heavy silence. "This is an unguarded gate," she whispered, her voice trembling.
"An unguarded gate?" Arya repeated, baffled.
"Yes..." she said, still staring at it. "This shouldn't be possible. A gate like this... should never be left open."
Still trembling, Rika clutched Arya's arm tightly. "But it's just some old stone gate... right?"
Nagini gave no answer. The visions lingered, fragments of a past she could not piece together. But one thing she knew with certainty: something on the other side was waiting—something that was never meant to awaken.
Sensing the worry in her face, Arya tried to ease the tension. "If it's too dangerous, we can turn back now." Yet inside, curiosity gnawed at him.
Nagini inhaled deeply, then turned to Dio. "If you decide to step through, Dio, be ready for whatever comes."
Dio gave a slight nod, fingers brushing the hilt of the keris at his side.
They exchanged glances. Then Arya, brimming with courage, took the first step through the gate. Rika followed nervously, while Dio and Nagini guarded the rear.
Silently, they all knew: this journey was no longer about dreams or chasing cell signals. It was leading them into something far greater—something that would shape all their fates.