The next morning, Melaka felt different. The usual buzz of the port, the familiar calls of the vendors, the very rhythm of the city, all seemed to hum with a subtle tension that Aishah alone could perceive. The wooden fish pendant, now a constant, warm weight beneath her tunic, pulsed with a quiet insistence, like a second heartbeat guiding her. After Master Aris's pointed suggestion to "keep her curious mind on the known lands," Aishah knew she should obey. But the pull of the unknown, of Singapura's lost secrets and the whispers of ancient magic, was too strong to resist.
She feigned a headache, excusing herself from her usual morning duties. Master Aris, his brow furrowed with a knowing look, simply nodded. "Rest, Aishah. Some paths are better left un-trod." His words were meant as a warning, but to Aishah, they sounded like a dare.
With a small satchel containing a compass, some dried fruit, and a canteen of water, Aishah slipped out of the workshop. She chose the less-traveled routes, winding through the quieter kampungs on the outskirts of the city, where chickens scratched in the dirt and the scent of woodsmoke hung in the air. Her destination wasn't on any map she'd ever drawn for trade or navigation. It was on the map her own hand had sketched, the impossible map of Singapura.
The journey was long, taking her away from the bustling coastline and inland, towards the dense, emerald jungle that bordered Melaka. The familiar sounds of the city faded, replaced by the chirping of unseen insects and the rustle of leaves in the humid air. The pendant grew warmer with every step, its guidance undeniable. It led her along an overgrown path, barely more than a deer trail, that plunged deeper into the wilderness.
Hours later, as the sun began its slow descent, painting the sky in fiery oranges and purples, Aishah found herself before a massive rock face, draped in thick, ancient vines. A waterfall cascaded down one side, not a thundering roar, but a gentle, misty veil. This was it. The hidden entrance from her drawing.
Her heart hammered, a mix of fear and exhilaration. Taking a deep breath, Aishah pushed through the shimmering curtain of water. Behind it, the air grew cool and damp, and the light dimmed considerably. She found herself in a narrow, slippery passage carved into the rock. The walls were rough, wet, and smelled faintly of moss and something metallic, like old coins.
The passage opened into a larger cavern, dimly lit by cracks in the rock face far above. Her footsteps echoed hollowly. The air here was heavy, ancient, as if time itself had slowed. And then she saw them.
The walls were covered in inscriptions, just as in her drawing, but they weren't just symbols. They were crude, haunting murals. Figures with animalistic features danced around leaping flames, strange creatures with glowing eyes stalked through shadowy forests, and at the center of it all, a massive, stylized dragon seemed to coil, its scales depicted as five distinct, glowing orbs. One of the orbs was undeniably shaped like her wooden fish pendant.
As Aishah stepped closer, tracing the lines of the murals with a trembling finger, a low rumble vibrated through the ground. Dust sprinkled from the cavern ceiling. Her pendant, which had been warm, now felt scorching hot against her skin. A sharp, piercing sound, like metal scraping stone, echoed from deeper within the cavern.
Panic seized her. This wasn't just an old cave; it was alive with something powerful, something that stirred at her presence. She had found the forbidden path, and it was clear that she was not alone in this ancient place. The echoes of Singapura were growing louder, and they brought with them a chilling sense of danger she had not anticipated.