Late afternoon approached. The sky cast an orange glow, veiled by the mist. From time to time, a gentle breeze blew, swaying the hair of those gathered by the edge of the white bridge along Jalur Lumut—the bridge connecting the cliffs of the Lumut Mountains.
His body was firm and well-built, wrapped in a dark green vest. His fingers gripping the top surface of the white railing revealed hints of muscle on his tan skin. His short, middle-parted hair covered the knot of his black udeng above sharp eyes that stared deep into the river current flowing eastward below the cliff.
"Forgive me, Master..." Agniran turned toward Solor, who was also gazing at the river current. "May I mention that which is forbidden?"
Solor glanced sideways. Now and then, his dark irises shifted, looking down at two crocodiles lying motionless along the riverbank. "Why?"
"Earlier, we captured someone who had performed the ritual of the Circle of Darkness."
Solor frowned, though he could still feel the cool air atop the cliff.
"Afterward, an earthquake struck." Agniran turned his body around. Now his waist rested against the white railing. "We thought the earthquake was caused by the person performing the Circle of Darkness ritual." After gazing up at the orange sky, his eyes settled on Solor's face, which remained still with his chin propped upon the railing. "However, the pillar of light appeared to the west."
Solor nodded.
"This is our first time seeing that pillar of light, Master... it was truly magnificent," Handoko said as he stroked and gently toyed with the golden mane of Solor's horse using the spear he still cradled.
Solor closed his eyes.
"Is it true that the phenomenon of the pillar of light only appears when a relic is used?"
Agniran's back straightened. He deliberately held his sharp chin high so as not to bow his head, striving to conceal his fear.
"Yes, that is true," said Solor, who had remained relaxed in the same posture all along.
Agniran fell silent. He hoped Solor would explain the emergence of the pillar of light more specifically.
Solor turned his body around. His hand stroked his horse's flank once. Now Solor's back rested against the white stone railing beside Agniran. He turned his head. "A youth used it in Kawi Village..."
Those words instantly caused the three of them to stare at Solor.
"He used a relic to block a landslide about to strike his village..." he added.
"He was helping his village, Master?!" Handoko stared at Solor with an anxious face, as if unable to believe what he had just heard.
Solor nodded slowly, then looked at Handoko. "Yes..."
"Is that true?! So the relic user protected his village from a landslide attack? Then, was he successful?" Handoko took a step closer, his heart pounding faster.
"What do you mean by successful?" Solor asked, looking at him.
"Did the relic user succeed in saving the village and its people?" Handoko pressed.
Solor lowered his gaze. His lips betrayed a look of sorrow. "Yes, he succeeded in saving the village and its residents."
Agniran's heart beat even faster. Trying to suppress the tremor on his face, his sharp eyes now locked onto Solor's face. "Then, what did the Alliance do?"
Solor's head bowed further. Now he closed both of his eyes. "They punished him."
That answer drew the three youths closer. Goosebumps rose on the napes of their necks.
Handoko's gaze remained fixed on Solor. He swallowed hard as he digested those words. "What do you mean, Master? The Alliance punished him?"
Solor looked up. "Yes, he was executed."
Joko, who had been listening intently to their conversation, felt the back of his ears burn. Unconsciously, a tear trickled down from the corner of his eye.
The spear Handoko was holding slipped and fell as his fingers suddenly went weak.
Agniran lowered his body, sinking to the ground beneath the railing with his shoulders leaning limply against it.
"Forgive me..." Solor slowly lowered his face.
Solor was startled as the three youths slowly drew close to one another. Without a single word, they put their arms around each other's shoulders, then bowed their heads in unison.
The sight made Solor's chest feel as if it were being squeezed.
His memory drifted back decades ago, to when he was still a disciple at a padepokan. The very same gesture had been taught by his master—a symbol of solidarity, a final tribute, and a sign of grief over the fall of a knight.
It had been a long time since Solor had last seen that sign of respect.
Now, in the middle of the white bridge connecting the cliffs of the Lumut Mountains shrouded in twilight fog, three youths who had never even known Randu directly bowed their heads in profound respect.