The wind of the last third of the night began to stir through the gaps in the leaves, carrying the scent of damp earth and something older, more alien. Amidst its rustle, faint voices could occasionally be heard like soft whispers resembling an ancient chant that did not originate from human lips, alongside a quiet laughter like the flapping of wings hiding behind tree trunks, only to vanish in an instant.
Agniran's eyes fluttered open. Lying on his side, he faced Joko while his back was turned to Handoko.
Unwrapping his jarik cloth, he sat up straight. His eyes scanned his surroundings. Silence. The light from the extinguished campfire left a thin trail of smoke below, illuminated only by Agniran's oncor torch tucked into a vine on a tree trunk above.
For a moment, he woke up thinking he heard Solor's voice. However, when he looked over, he saw Solor sound asleep on his side, his hands clasped between his legs curled beneath the dim glow of the torchlight reflecting off the tree bark.
Agniran stood up and quietly walked toward the sleeping Solor.
He spread his jarik wide and lay flat on his back beside Solor, pulling the cloth over them both.
Closing his eyes once more, he drifted back to sleep.
As the night drew close to surrendering itself to dawn, the cold air suddenly bore a bone-chilling sting, far colder than it should have been.
The silence morphed into a suffocating presence—invisible, yet palpably watching from every direction. The breeze vanished, replaced by an intoxicatingly sweet and fragrant aroma—alien, and carrying something inexplicable. It felt as though a gentle call was dancing in the distance, luring unsuspecting souls.
From behind the dense fog hanging like a curtain of death, an unnatural figure slowly emerged. A towering creature, far larger than a wild forest bull, stepped forward gracefully yet soundlessly. Its high, spreading antlers branched like the boughs of an ancient tree born from a primal dream, exuding a crown of majesty and danger all at once.
Its entire body seemed forged from pure gold, reflecting a light not of this world. The glow was not merely blinding, but mesmerizing, seductive, and at the same time... threatening.
Every inch of the entity was an improper beauty—strikingly gorgeous, yet wrapped tightly in an air of curse. It did not merely exist; it reigned, dominating the night with an aura that shattered reason and sowed an indescribable dread.
Clop... clop...
The tap of its hooves left behind traces of precious gold scrape.
Joko lay sound asleep, his legs curled over Handoko's stomach. His elbow was bent, pressing against the shoulder of Handoko, who was fast asleep on his back with his limbs spread across a mattress of jarik.
Joko opened his eyes slowly. Extremely close to his gaze was Handoko's Adam's apple, his face tilted upward, unconscious.
Drifting between awareness and stupor, Joko's mind hovered on the boundary between dream and reality. His heart trembled, swept up by an incomprehensible turmoil—a subtle whisper blurring logic and stoking desire, hypnotized by the fragrant scent drifting through the air.
The aroma tickled his sense of smell. He flared his nostrils repeatedly, sniffing.
Amidst the uncertainty, he pushed himself up, leaving Handoko's knocked-out body behind.
Lowering his posture with one leg bent, his right hand reached for a machete lying on the rough bark of the branch. For a second, he resembled a hunter awaiting the perfect moment to strike.
At the end of the branch, his eyes caught a golden gleam down below.
Through the lingering mist hanging in the air, his gaze locked onto a magnificent figure treading slowly not far beneath him.
The creature was like a heavenly illusion manifested in the mortal realm. Joko's breath hitched, caught by something far greater than fear... a paralyzing awe.
All doubts in his mind melted away, dissolving into a single dominant sensation: enchantment.
Without full awareness, his body began to move. He descended the tree branch with slow yet deliberate steps, as if his soul were being led by an invisible hand.
Each step brought him closer to the creature now gliding gracefully along the Mossy Path, a trail partially shrouded in thick, damp green moss.
He glanced down. The golden light emanating from the creature's body danced in the air, softly reflecting off the moss-covered stones and slipping through the thickets.
The shimmering rhythm of its swaying fur carved space and time into something still and sacred, as though the night had opened solely for him—a singular, undisturbed moment where the world held its breath so the spell would not break.
The fog slowly faded like a pulled curtain. Everything felt so calm... too calm. Yet it was not a comforting peace, but one that discarded reason.
Joko walked closer behind it. An immense opportunity unfolded before his unblinking eyes; his soul felt as though it were being pulled from his body.
In his grip, he unsheathed his machete, sending a flash of cold metal through the fog and golden rays. He imagined a single strike... and that gold would belong to his family.
Yet, his steps were no longer his own. He was trapped in a vortex of fascination, dragged toward an invisible world—a place where beauty was a bait, and every desire turned into a snare. And the night remained silent, holding its breath, awaiting the end of the footsteps descending deeper into the shadows.
A delicate, sweet scent wafted into the nostrils of the sleeping Solor. He smelled the fragrance of the dead.
Disturbed and uneasy, his eyes slowly opened.
He sniffed. "What is this...?"
He scanned his surroundings, but nothing was visible in the dim shadows atop the tree. Yet when he began counting the young men, one was missing.
"Where did the other one go?"
Solor quickly pushed aside the jarik covering Agniran, who was fast asleep on his back. He stood up and walked toward where Handoko lay sleeping. In his mind, he searched frantically for Joko. This prompted him to peer down from behind the branch to inspect the area below. There was nothing. Only a few scattered remnants of the campfire sending up thin wisps of white smoke in the dark late night. His eyes also caught the root cave covered in dense foliage where his horse was hidden. But then, his eyes widened as he saw a golden shimmer radiant with light, reflecting the mist all around.
Solor realized. His eyes dilated, and his sleepiness vanished instantly. His face brightened with joy. Between the shadows and the dark, he saw it—the creature whose legend had echoed for thousands of years. A living legend now standing before him, virtually untouched by time.
"Dadung Kawilis..."
The utterance snapped him back to the reality that it was a dangerous beast.
"Heh, so it's you..." Nimble, quiet, and concealed, he immediately moved to find a way down.
With calm yet vigilant movements, he climbed down the tree. The soles of his sandals stepped onto the moss coating the root trunk. He walked past several bushes and roots until he stopped right beside the dead campfire.
His gaze locked onto the brighter mist at the end of the paving path, which was partially covered in roots and moss. Within the shadows of the fog, he spotted Joko's back sneaking behind the spreading, giant golden-shimmering antlers.
"A spellbinding beauty!"
Near the ashes of the dead fire, he found a sharp piece of leftover rock. He grabbed it firmly and tossed it into the air. Raising his right foot, he caught the stone in one swift motion and threw it with high precision.
Fuuuuughhhhh!
The stone sliced through the air, striking the glowing creature dead-on.
Clatter-smash!!
Instantly, the deer's body shattered. Not into blood, nor screams, but an explosion of light and movement. Its form evaporated into thousands of golden-furred butterflies fluttering about, filling the night with a strange, trembling radiance—beautiful, yet raising the hairs on their necks.
They swirled in erratic patterns like an illusion refusing to fade, before vanishing one by one into the rolling fog. Agniran, followed by Handoko, woke up to the echoing sound of the explosion that resounded like a giant mirror shattering in the quiet. Without a second thought, they slid down from the branches. Their feet hit the damp earth and underbrush simultaneously, their hearts pounding wildly.
Below, Joko stood dazed. His gaze was hollow, his body nothing more than an empty shell.
"Joko!" Agniran called out in a panic.
They caught him just before his broad frame collapsed unconscious.
"Ah... the gold... even though... it was just a little closer..."
Solor and Handoko rushed over with their spears.
"I told you! That is a luring creature!" Solor bent his right leg, resting his left knee on the ground. He rested his elbow on Joko's back as Agniran supported him from the side. "It displays its beauty... and looks real... But it brings no safety..." His lips drew close to the ear of the somber, seated Joko.
"You should remember when we caught that deer, right?" Agniran looked into Joko's eyes from the side. "It led us right to the giant crocodile nest, didn't it?"
"So, Master Solor was right, Jok... It's a dangerous creature..."
Solor stared at the remaining butterflies flying farther away into the dark forest sky. "It's a mystical entity."
He looked back at Joko, tapping his index finger on the back of the young man's neck. "Not an animal..."
"Forget it. It's useless to gain gold if we have to gamble our safety."
Handoko laid his body down, leaning against a paving stone right in front of Agniran. The dim light filtering through the fog cast a soft glow on his striking white cheeks. His clear eyes brought a sense of peace, perfectly matching his long, thick eyebrows and the tips of his wavy hair that occasionally swayed to touch his dimples.
Joko's eyes, previously blurred by mist, cleared up after being wiped by his friend. It was then that he realized the most precious treasure was not gold, but the person right in front of him.
"You idiot..."
Joko flicked Handoko's forehead gently.
Agniran smiled, seeing Joko regain his senses. Solor stood up, still watching a few stray butterflies fluttering about.
"When you faced that pack of crocodiles earlier, you all ran away..." He scanned their faces. "Let alone trying to possess the Dadung Kawilis..."
"Only if you can overcome the obstacles and dangers presented by the Dadung Kawilis..."
He pointed his index finger toward the three of them still kneeling on the ground. "...can you truly capture it!"
Solor ran toward the spot where the deer had shattered. "Didn't I tell you that only those with formidable supernatural powers can obtain it?!"
Snap-catch!
He caught a stray butterfly that was flying erratically, occasionally bumping into leaves.
"Look at this..."
He dropped the butterfly with the golden-furred wings onto the surface of a paving stone.
Then, he crushed it under the sole of his sandal right in front of their eyes.
Squelch!
Instantly, the golden sheen evaporated, transforming into chunks of centipede flesh, maggots, and other repulsive insects swarming the wet earth. The stench of metal and rotting soil wafted up together. What was once enchanting was now nothing more than horror disguised as beauty.
They fell silent, coming to a realization: the end of the night had brought not only a lesson, but also revealed just how fragile the line was between enchantment and disaster.
A silvery-blue sunrise emerged behind the canopy of giant trees. The fog gradually thickened, bringing more light with it. They packed up their gear, preparing to continue their journey.