A dark night enveloped a temple-like building made of granite blocks whose upper structure was completely covered in thick moss.
The flickering light of a hanging lantern illuminated a stone table resembling an altar—looking old and partially covered in moss. Someone placed a scroll down and unrolled it.
"This is the list of knights who have been executed by the Alliance," said a middle-aged man with short, curly, partially graying hair. He wore a long-sleeved white shirt wrapped with a crisscrossing leather vest resembling a tunic. His fingers spread out a sheet containing the records of the Alliance's laws, noting those who had been executed for violating the use of sacred heirlooms over the past hundred years.
"In a hundred years, there have been twenty-four people?!" a young man stared at the list without turning his head.
"Indeed..." The middle-aged man with short, curly hair stepped back, his back facing the young man dressed in a deep dark purple vest. "We have tried since long ago, striving to amend these laws."
His face gazed out the window, revealing a waterfall shimmering under the moonlight. "Yet the Alliance hasn't given the slightest response."
He turned back to face the young man beside the stone table. "They will continue like this..."
"Then who is capable of upholding their right to goodness?!"
"Our sole purpose is to abolish the laws regarding the use of heirlooms intended for saving lives..."
"This is a man-made law! Why do they stubbornly cling to it just to taint humanity?"
"If we set this in motion once more, are we in the wrong?"
A large, sturdy man wearing armor, his head wrapped in a blangkon and a jamang headdress, stepped forward toward the young man who was resting both palms on the stone table to support his body. "We have fought back, but we always fail."
His face stared sharply at the young man. "Teges, the power of the Alliance is unshakable." He nodded slightly. "We have brought witnesses, various regional representatives, and even some high-ranking Alliance officials who share our views..."
"Yet, still, the Grand Supreme Leader of the Alliance refuses to change the law."
The middle-aged man with short, curly hair approached the young man standing tall, gazing at the moonlight beyond the window. "Our Panawang has foretold..." his voice sounded firm and convincing, "...that the Crescent Moon Wanderer is predicted to be born next year."
His right hand gently patted and stroked the shoulder of the young man named Teges. In response, Teges tightened his grip.
"Good evening."
A man in a uniform resembling a soldier with deep dark purple accents entered the room, accompanied by a young man in a long-sleeved white shirt.
The young man in the white shirt looked at Teges, who was standing with his back to the stone table. His gaze burned—a mixture of anger, hope, and disappointment.
Teges nodded. He slowly stepped forward, then embraced the young man in the long-sleeved shirt.
The middle-aged man with short, curly hair looked at the young man in white. His expression was calm and full of spirit. "Andika, this is Teges..."
"Alongside him, we will move forward to fight the Alliance..."
Andika's body trembled, his face flushed, and his tear-filled eyes stared at Teges. "Allow me to follow you!" His anger could no longer be contained.
The middle-aged man with short, curly hair stepped closer, and his right hand grasped Andika's arm. "Do not let your anger turn you into someone of no worth."
The young man's eyes looked up at the curly-haired middle-aged man. "I've known Randu since childhood. Randu often took on extra work just to pay for his mother's medical expenses. He also frequently refused to buy anything for himself..."
"He always helped the villagers even though his own life was hard." The young man in the long-sleeved white shirt wept softly. "He is a good person..."
"I know that." The hem of his sleeve rose, wiping away the tears that continuously fell. "Truly, I had no idea what he was planning when he asked to take your place in helping Aunt Minah, who had been struck by a falling tree branch..."
"Had I known, I surely would have forbidden him!"
The curly-haired man nodded. "Everyone already knows who Randu was." His palm stroked Andika's back, gently touching the somewhat worn white fabric.
"May our plan succeed."
"And may such an incident never happen again, ever."
The curly-haired man stepped into the adjoining room. "Come here..." he said, walking ahead.
They arrived at the living room. The room, with its elegantly carved geometric granite walls, radiated a golden glow, warming the entire space.
In the middle of the room, they sat on a set of antique sofas cushioned with deep purple pads.
His body reclined casually, his back leaning slightly forward with both knees and elbows resting. The curly-haired man looked at Andika, who had just settled into the single sofa beside him. "I am Supardi, and this is Jalu." His right hand pointed toward the large, sturdy man.
"He is an elite disciple from the Manunggal Jagad Padepokan of Ampringan." His right hand then shifted toward Teges—the tall, broad-shouldered young man with a flat-top haircut, wearing a deep dark purple vest.
"Five years prior, we already led a rebellion against the Alliance's laws."
"Because of my father."
"Just like Randu."
Supardi straightened his back. "We all know, this is the year of Panandha..."
"This year is a hope for you... for all of us."
He looked alternately at the faces of the young men before him. "A hope that will bring forth the true Crescent Moon Wanderer."
A man in a soldier-like uniform with deep dark purple accents placed a Warung and Pondok Kecot plaque on the table surrounded by the sofa where they were seated.
"Do you know what this is?"
Supardi embraced the plaque, turned it over in his hands, and then held it out toward the two young men.
Both young men remained silent, their eyes fixed on the yellowish gleaming plaque under the light of the hanging lantern.
"This is a membership card..."
"A membership that allows one to wield a sacred heirloom as they please."
"Do you know? The Grand Supreme Leader of the Alliance..." His clean face showed disappointment, "...allows it."
The young man named Andika straightened his back with a curious look.
"Yes..."
"You surely understand..."
"A law can certainly be changed."
"Not blindly sacrificed at the cost of the lives of good-hearted human beings."
Supardi stood up. His steps were firm as he crossed the space by the table, causing the traditional fabric (jarik) covering his baggy trousers to sway.
"Listen to this carefully."
He stood facing them as they listened with utmost seriousness. "For over a thousand years, they have said that the prophecy of Sanajayan's Destiny through the Seven-Year Tournament will give birth to the Crescent Moon Wanderer, who will purify the Circle of Darkness."
Both of his hands opened outward. "Yet, where is he?"
"Many elders have said that the Seven-Year Tournament is merely a form of entertainment."
"And that is a fact. There is not the slightest sign that the Circle of Darkness has been purified."
"Some high-ranking officials of the Alliance have even begun to doubt that prophecy."
He lowered his head. His brow furrowed and his eyes closed. "If the Crescent Moon Wanderer has not yet been born, it means the Alliance has been walking down the wrong path."
Supardi swept his gaze once more, looking at each of them sitting before him. "Is a belief that kills humans on the path of nobility something that is right?"
He walked with a steady stride.
"Then know why I am here, repeating this rebellion."
"With this, if Sanajayan's Prophecy of Destiny has erred in its interpretation, let us prove it ourselves."
"In the name of the goodness and nobility of a knight who willingly sacrificed himself to save humanity..."
"...We remain under its banner!"
Supardi tossed a piece of fabric.
The thick, black, silver-striped piece of fabric floated slowly down and landed on the table surface.
The piece of fabric turned out to be a pocket-sized emblem, shield-shaped, bearing the image of a crescent moon with Javanese script framed by a ribbon that read: "CHANDRAKLANA".
"The Crescent Wanderer is not a single person. The Crescent Wanderer is all of us."
They all stood up with full enthusiasm, tightly grasping onto hope.
Supardi nodded toward them. "The Alliance has kept waiting for the Crescent Wanderer for a thousand years. We will wait no longer." His gaze was sharp, full of spirit and hope. "If the Crescent Wanderer are those who protect the people, then we are the Crescent Wanderer!"