"Where is he?" she asked softly.
The man turned his head. The figure walking beside him was taller than he was. His square jaw appeared sharp and clean, paired with a neatly trimmed black mustache, radiating a dashing and commanding presence.
"Waiting at the Crescent Wanderer's Hall," the man replied without looking back.
"Is there any recent news regarding the discussion of the Alliance's laws?" Her gaze directed forward, keeping pace with the man beside her.
"Massive demonstrations have broken out in some regions..." The man turned his head. His gaze fell upon the long-lashed eyes beside him, which looked swollen from a lack of rest. "They are demanding that the law be revised."
The young woman lowered her neatly shaped eyebrows. Her face was shrouded in doubt. Her memory drifted back to the case of a young man named Randu, who had been sentenced to death simply for using an heirloom to save many lives. Her chest beat faster, as if pity and sorrow were shaking her soul.
Yet a moment later, reality enveloped her thoughts once again. She understood that the Alliance's law had stood for centuries, as firm as a giant nearly impossible to shake. Even so, a question continued to echo within her heart: Can a law remain upright without losing its mercy? Might the Alliance make room for a justice that also considers a person's intentions when helping others?
Her beautiful, slightly pale face turned. The faint circles under her eyes made her gentle visage look shadowed by exhaustion. She looked at Darmaji from the side, gazing into the man's wide and resolute eyes.
"This is a very heavy decision for the Alliance..." her voice lowered. "And for me as well."
She looked at the path ahead of her, then lowered her head. "I am truly confused..."
The man stopped walking. His large, muscular hands gripped the young woman's arms. Looking down slightly due to his tall stature, his gaze pierced sharply into the swollen eyes of the beautiful, calm-faced woman before him.
"I beg you..."
"I place all my hope in you..."
"In these coming years..."
The young woman knew what the dashing man meant. He was asking the same thing as everyone else: wanting her to purify the Batin Pangikrar once more, for she was the true Crescent Moon Wanderer.
Yet what made the young woman deeply sad was that she felt incapable because time was running out.
"I know, Darmaji. Forgive me... If only I could have done it sooner, surely that young man wouldn't have died at the hands of the law..."
The tall, black-mustached man released his grip. He shook his head slowly at the young woman. "Something even worse than Sakadian's problem yesterday..."
They walked down a corridor connecting to a building that towered gracefully in one corner of the highest hierarchical district of the Palace of Wulansana. The seven-story white stone building had been passed down through generations to every Crescent Wanderer.
Its shape resembled an ascending ancient temple, filled with historical carvings of wisdom and knowledge, engravings of stars and crescent moons, smooth curves of clouds, and reliefs depicting the journey of a Wanderer across its every level. Sunlight gently illuminated the geometric sides of the clean white stone walls, making them glow brilliantly as if translucent.
Meanwhile, at its summit stood a clear glass dome facing all directions of the sky—serving as an observation room where the Bearers of Hope studied stellar movements and various natural omens. Directly above the main gate, the words "Balai Chandraklana" were grandly carved deep into the white stone with elegant script.
Two guards opened the gates of the building. In the distance, in the middle of a room with walls patterned in rolling clouds resembling an ocean, the banners of the Alliance hung magnificently. Dimly glowing lanterns warmed the atmosphere.
Among the rows of lanterns stood an Alliance elder whose body was almost entirely draped in ceremonial fabric. His body was slightly hunched, walking away from a large white pot filled with a lush cluster of soft pink and cream flowers. He stepped forward to approach them.
The elder was an old grandfather with a long white beard. His hair was covered in a white turban-like cloth adorned with sumping ornaments covering the sides of his head. His wrinkled eyes, hidden behind long, thick, whitening eyebrows, gazed at the young woman full of hope.
"Samiranah Angsana Wulandarsa..." his voice was raspy, yet still radiated authority.
The young woman stepped closer. Without hesitation, she reached for both hands of the old man standing while leaning on his wooden staff. Her fingers gently grasped the aged hands, then lifted them slowly while supporting the elder so he could stand more upright.
"Ki Waluyo Karman..."
"You should have summoned me to come to your quarters..." A fragile smile formed on the young woman's face. She looked into those old eyes—a gaze that always reminded her of a father who understood every burden without needing many questions. "I didn't want you to go to the trouble of coming this far, Ki..."
The old man shook his head slowly. He released his grip from Samiranah's hands, turned his body away, and tapped his staff against the floor.
"There is an important matter you must know..." He nodded, then walked away from them. "I did not expect Wandarimo to finally bring forth the heirloom once given by Alingkukoh to the family..."
"What do you mean?" Samiranah's eyes stared in confusion.
The elder, renowned as a sage, turned around to face Samiranah and Darmaji, who stood firmly beside her. "He is going to make that carnelian agate the prize for next year's tournament!"
Anxiety washed over Samiranah's face. Her thoughts drifted; she stood in silence with her gaze fixed on the floor below. "I worry about his conviction..."
The old man lowered his head slightly, his eyes sharpening as he stared at Samiranah's face, pale from sorrow and sleep deprivation. "His conviction toward the Alliance."
For a moment, the room fell silent.
"Impossible," Samiranah blurted out. "The Alliance will reject it, because heirlooms are forbidden to appear among the common folk."
Waluyo Karman stepped closer to Samiranah with a gaze that remained sharp. "That carnelian agate is a gift from Alingkukoh! Wandarimo is no ordinary person."
Samiranah rubbed her temples gently. Her face looked at the old man before her. "They are people of high knowledge... Even if this is due to family matters... it is impossible for their family to be used as a gamble just to bypass the Giant Law."
She turned her head toward Darmaji, who was still standing quietly and firmly, then looked back at the old man. "...There must be another reason for this..."
Waluyo Karman shook his head slowly.
"Just as with you, Ki..." Samiranah continued. "You know the law is the law. Then why do you doubt it?"
Samiranah gazed intently. "Every time Ki receives a vision... I always hope Ki will share it with me. Yet that hope always ends the same way."
"A vision? Not all visions turn out the same... Nduk," he replied, raising his staff to take a step. "Not all visions ultimately come true just as they appear..."
"I actually wish I wouldn't be visited by visions. Because the visions that come to me disturb my mind. Deep down, I actually loathe it..."
"Yet I am also afraid of my vision. If I were to spread it, people who don't understand might interpret my vision wildly..."
"Who will take responsibility?"
"It would be me, wouldn't it, Nduk?"
His staff tapped the floor. Waluyo Karman walked toward the large white flower pot whose blossoms towered lushly. "Enough, obey me. Trust me."
He turned around, facing Samiranah with a serious expression. "Your position is the highest among all of us. You are a Crescent Wanderer. Push for its proposal!"
The room fell silent once again.
"Too many secrets!" Samiranah turned her body and walked toward the tall window adorned with elegant white geometric carvings. Her footsteps stepped softly on the polished white floor. "You told me to trust you," she turned around to face Waluyo Karman, "yet you yourself do not trust me!"
"What should I trust you with?" His staff tapped the floor again. "Your time is down to a year..."
With a heavy heart, Samiranah tried to answer, "Yes... My time is running out. All my research, everything I have done so far, even spending my nights just waiting for answers from the skies... every single night..."
"For six years!!" Her eyes stared intently at Waluyo Karman.
She lowered her gaze. Her eyes grew slightly watery. "Yet, this duty feels like something whose answer is not meant to be found..."
"Enough, do as I said earlier. That is hope..."
Samiranah turned away, approaching the tall window draped with thick, white-gold curtains. "Very well, I will do it..."
Her eyes gazed out at the short, lush, and neatly trimmed lawn surrounding the white building outside. This time, she chose to honestly express what had been her lingering grievance.
"For six years I have wandered in search of knowledge. But as it turns out, the knowledge I need most is kept tightly guarded by the very people who sent me to find it."
"You taught me that knowledge is the path to wisdom. Yet every time I approach the truth, you slam the door shut."
She turned back to face Waluyo Karman, then shifted her gaze to Darmaji. "So... this is what the face of the Alliance's justice looks like."
She stepped closer to Waluyo Karman, who stood supporting his aged body yet still radiating authority.
"Now I understand. Apparently, it wasn't just that village savior back then who struggled to attain justice. Even someone who dedicates their life to the Alliance must be content living in ignorance."
Her voice sounded resolute despite the lingering weight of sleepiness. "How am I expected to find a way to purify the Batin Pangikrar if you intentionally hide parts of that path from me?"
She took a deep breath. "If that is so... do not blame me if one day I fail. For from the very beginning, I was never given the opportunity to know everything."
"That is not it," the old man interrupted.
"Then what is it?"
"Because certain knowledge..." Waluyo paused briefly, "...is more dangerous than ignorance."
Those words echoed once again. Over and over, wrapped in different phrasing.
"Dangerous to whom?"
"Everyone," answered Waluyo Karman.
"Including me?"
Waluyo did not answer. His silence was far more painful than a rejection.
Samiranah smiled—a smile so fragile.
"I am not asking for all the secrets."
"I only want, just for once... for Ki to treat me as someone worthy of hearing." She nodded slightly. She rubbed her temples gently, then closed her eyes tightly before opening them again, trying to banish the heavy weariness.
"Yet every time Ki receives a vision, I am left standing outside the door."
Her eyes welled with tears, briefly washing away her exhaustion. "Waiting."
"As if this mandate is mine... but the knowledge behind it is not." She closed her eyes tightly, until a tear slipped from the corner of her eye.
"Trust is not always measured by how many secrets you know," Waluyo Karman replied.
Darmaji stepped forward, looking at Samiranah's visibly exhausted face. "If one day that burden falls upon your shoulders, I hope you will still wish that day had never come."
"Very well." Samiranah lifted her gaze with a wounded heart. "I will carry out the order." She nodded slowly.
There was no more term of endearment Ki... No more warm tone. Only formal language between ranks.
That made Waluyo realize: their relationship had just fractured.
Samiranah then walked toward the stairs. "I have unfinished duties."
Her footsteps brought silence—a silence born of repeated disappointments. Slowly, Samiranah's figure climbed the stairs, leaving them without uttering another word.
Darmaji walked over to Waluyo Karman.
"She is beginning to hate me," the white-bearded old man murmured softly.
Darmaji replied gently as he supported Waluyo Karman's arm to guide him out of the room. His eyes looked down at the old man. "Better to be hated today... than to lose her forever."
That afternoon, during the carriage ride amidst the bustling highest hierarchical district of the White City of Wulansana, Waluyo Karman sat facing Darmaji inside the white carriage.
His face trembled slightly with the carriage's jolts. Both hands tightly grasped the end of his unique wooden staff carved from white stone.
"I do not wish for this mandate to fall into the wrong hands, whoever they may be."
Darmaji turned his head. "Is Samiranah truly the Crescent Wanderer prophesied all this time? Or is she merely a successor of the title like the others?"
The white-bearded old man with a turban on his head gazed out at the paved road outside the carriage window. "The Crescent Moon Wanderer is no guarantee."
His eyes stared intently at the road that seemed dragged behind by the carriage's speed. "Many have held that title."
"But not all of them are the ones I am searching for."
Darmaji closed his eyes, his jaw tightening. Slowly he opened them again, his body swaying occasionally with the carriage's motion. He looked at Waluyo Karman with a sense of pity.
"Ki... still doubts Samiranah?"
Waluyo stared straight into the dark pupils of Darmaji's eyes.
"I doubt everyone."
"Including myself."