They ran once again, following the stretch of rope that sliced through Lataran Ijo. Their bodies were covered in dark-colored batik jarik cloths to fend off the burning sun. Handoko ran up front, swinging the tip of his spear to part the ankle-high grass and ensure the rope stayed in sight. All around them, a sea of grass swayed in the wind, resembling a boundless green ocean. As long as the rope remained visible, the hope of staying on track had not flickered out.
"Hey, look!" Running at the very back, Joko pointed ahead toward a black dot on the horizon.
"What's that?" Handoko stared at the distant object, but then looked back down and resumed parting the grass with a steady run.
Gradually, the dot drew nearer, now looking more like a box.
"Is that a house?" Handoko raised his head, before turning his gaze back to the ground.
Getting closer, the box shifted into the shape of something with a tiled roof. But as they drew nearer still, it became clear that the object was moving.
"Ha, it's a cart!" Handoko went back to tracking the rope through the grassy brush.
As it came into clearer view, the object undeniably looked like a cart, until they closed the distance and began shouting.
"Heyyyyy!"
"Over here...!"
Agniran and Joko ran while stretching out both arms, waving their jarik cloths until they billowed wide, trying to catch the attention of the bullock cart still moving far ahead of them.
The cart grew larger before them. Two sturdy oxen stepped calmly, pulling a large wooden cart with slender, massive wheels. Every turn of the wheels produced a soft creaking sound, mingling with the oxen's occasional deep snorts and long exhales. The cart had a triangular roof made of light, tile-like sheets, yet sturdy enough to protect the cargo inside. Sacks, wooden crates, earthenware jars, and rolls of fabric were neatly arranged, filling the back bed.
On the driver's bench sat a man in his fifties. His mustache and beard were streaked with gray. The cart driver wore a black shirt layered under a light-brown lurik jacket, while a brightly patterned jarik wrapped around his waist. A dark brown blangkon cap covered his head. His hands held the reins casually, as if traveling across Lataran Ijo were merely a routine he had undertaken countless times.
"Sir...! Wait...!" Agniran shouted.
Agniran and Joko waved their jarik cloths high, while Handoko kept running up front, clearing the grass with his spear. Hearing the shouts, the driver slowly turned around. His face showed no surprise—only a faint smile, as though he had expected to find exhausted travelers in the middle of that green ocean all along.
"Ah, tekan uga. Sugeng rawuh ning taun Panandha!" ("Ah, you've made it. Welcome to the Year of Panandha!")
The cart ground to a halt as they panted, drawing close to the side of the driver.
"Thank goodness... we were lost," Agniran said, unwrapping his jarik. He pulled back the cloth to reveal his short, center-parted hair soaked in sweat. He finally felt shaded under the shadow of the cart.
"Yes, yes... young travelers..." The driver greeted them warmly.
"Where are you headed, Sir?" Handoko looked up at the driver, who still held the reins. His loosened jarik revealed medium-length curly hair that swayed in the wind blowing across the endless green field.
"Well now... is this your first time?"
"What do you mean?" Handoko asked, staring at the driver.
The driver understood—this was indeed their first time crossing Lataran Ijo.
"Yo wis, monggo. Nek arep numpang. Nek arep neruske mlaku dhewe yo monggo. Pilihane ana ning kowe." ("Well then, feel free if you want a ride. If you want to keep walking on your own, feel free as well. The choice is yours.")
Without second thought, Joko immediately stepped on the wooden footboard at the back of the cart and climbed into the cargo bed.
Sacks and wooden crates were neatly stacked on both the left and right sides of the cart bed, leaving a narrow passageway down the middle to walk and maintain the load's balance.
"Alright, Sir. We'll ride along!" Without further delay, Agniran and Handoko followed Joko, climbing up onto the cart.
"Kok yo ketoke kesel tenan..." ("You sure look exhausted...") the driver muttered while looking ahead, before resuming control of the cart as it moved slowly forward.
They traveled slowly across Lataran Ijo. The dusk light swept over the expanse of grass, turning it golden, while the wind rippled through it like a resting ocean.
The cart moved so slowly that its wooden wheels creaked gently to the rhythm of the two oxen's steps. The orange dusk light illuminated the jarik draped over Handoko's shoulder, making the strands of curly hair hanging over his temples glow golden. Sitting leaning against the side of the cart, he simply gazed at the plain of grass through a curved, carved wooden window resembling a gebyok. The scenery never seemed to change, as if they were standing completely still.
The corner of Handoko's long lips twitched.
"If it's going like this... it feels like running earlier was actually faster."
The steps of the two oxen were so calm as they paddled through the orange-tinted waves of grass, as if completely unaware of what it meant to hurry. Agniran rested his back against the wall of the cart while folding his jarik, letting out a long exhale.
"Sir, does it always move this slowly?"
The driver turned around. He smiled as he looked at Joko sitting behind his back. "Young man... ning Lataran Ijo, sing kesusu kuwi malah luwih cepet kesasar." ("...in Lataran Ijo, those who are in a hurry end up getting lost even faster.")
Handoko, who was sitting near the window, turned to face him.
"Lost? Isn't it just a matter of walking straight?"
The driver shook his head gently while looking at the road ahead.
"Everyone coming here for the first time thinks like that."
Joko, sitting behind the driver with both arms resting on his knees, stared intently at the driver's face. His sharp, narrow eyes were filled with curiosity. "Are these oxen really walking this slow, Sir?"
Beneath his beard, the driver offered a small smile. "It is not my oxen that are slow. It is humans who are often far too rushed."
"The faster you step without being sure of your direction, the further lost you will become."
The three of them fell silent.
Only the creaking of the wooden wheels and the rustling of the grass waving in the evening breeze could be heard.
A few moments later, the driver spoke up again.
"Besides... where are you three actually heading?"
The three young men looked at one another.
Handoko was the first to answer.
"We... are following someone."
"And now?" the driver asked.
No one answered.
The dusk light from behind penetrated the curved doorway of the cart, framing Joko's face and defining his thick eyebrows and narrow eyes, which were staring at the driver full of curiosity.
"Where is this cart headed, Sir?"
The driver gave a subtle smile without looking back.
"Why... if you truly have a destination in Lataran Ijo, you shouldn't need to ask where this cart is going."
His words made the three of them exchange looks once more.
For the first time, they realized that ever since chasing after Solor, they had never truly thought about the ultimate destination of their journey.
Agniran finally let out a sigh.
"Never mind... let's just ride along for now, Sir."
The three young men slowly gathered behind the driver's seat. Their gazes were fixed straight onto the horizon. At the far edge of the grassy expanse, a small shadow slowly began to emerge. Its shape was still faint, standing alone in the middle of the vast Lataran Ijo painted by the dusk light, causing curiosity to slowly build within their minds.