Night blankets the surroundings. Lantern light glows evenly in various places across the magnificent White Royal Palace. A towering spire in the center reaches into the night sky, supporting Sanajayan's Relief of Destiny at its peak. Its glow radiates a soft white light, resembling a star.
Inside the Crescent Wanderer's Hall, Samiranah wears casual white attire. She looks refreshed after soaking in warm water for a while. Her hair remains neatly styled in a bun at the nape of her neck, leaving two strands hanging beside her cheeks.
At that moment, she gazes into the steel mirror hanging on the white wall, which is covered in intricate relief carvings. Looking at her own reflection, she touches the faint, bluish-black circles beneath her eyelids.
"Not a single sign..." Her fingers pick up a powder container lying near her small white bag with golden ornaments. "I don't feel or know of any sign. Even if Ki Waluyo Karman wants Wandarimo's proposal rejected..." "It's highly unlikely." Her mind is in turmoil. Her once beautiful face now looks pale and drained of energy from a lack of sleep. Her fingers gently dab powder onto her upper cheeks until the dark circles are concealed. She puts the powder container back down.
"A sign?" For a split second, she remembers Sakadian. "Sakadian..."
She steps out of her room, then walks down a hallway where the walls are made entirely of elegantly sculpted white stone, crossing the glowing trails of flame-lit lamps. She opens a door, revealing a vast room before her. Her soles tread upon the shiny, translucent white stone floor before she descends a flight of stairs.
In the spacious room, numerous bookshelves carved from white stone are on display. There are also globes, wide-leafed white potted plants, a table fully set with equipment, various hanging decorations, the Alliance flag bathed in a dim glow, and neatly organized white stone drawers of various sizes.
Her feet step onto a golden-hued carpet, walking toward another room resembling a balcony that presents a nighttime view outside the palace. She stops at a table with a white sofa facing directly toward the balcony. Her fingers reach for a file containing a sheet of paper with sketches of the relief she had just drawn.
Her eyes sweep across the room, then stop at a large painting displayed on the wall, illuminated by the moonlight coming from the balcony outside. The painting is etched with ink forming a continent.
Both of her eyes fixate on the region of West Sanajayan, looking at the depiction of the Lumut Mountains, then shifting near the Nawijem Swamp area, stopping precisely at a slope point. There it is written: Kawi Village.
"Sakadian appeared there," she murmurs softly.
The room suddenly falls silent. Her brow furrows, pondering something about the Panandha year. "Actually, Sakadian is a marker." "A marker that an heirloom has been actively used," she utters softly, almost to herself. "Or could I be mistaken...?" Her voice gradually lowers. "All this time I've said there are no signs, yet the signs are already here..." She bows her head gently. "Or... six years without proper rest has made my mind lose its sharpness."
She immediately sets the sketch sheet back onto the table, then walks back toward the large bookshelves. Her soles touch the cold white floor surface of the night before growing warm again as they step onto the soft carpet circling the middle room.
"The heirloom is an agate..." Her tired fingers trace the densely and neatly arranged books within the white stone shelves. After a moment, the book she is looking for has still not been found. She tries searching on the next shelf, checking every tier from top to bottom, from left to right. However, it is not on that shelf either. She tries the next shelf again, but the result remains nil. "Ah right, I put that book in Warung and Pondok Kecot a year ago."
She closes her eyes. "I remember, the history of that agate was once made by a gemologist." Her head drops downward for a fraction of a second, as if she is about to fall asleep, before lifting back up. She tries to open her eyes wide.
"I know Ki Waluyo Karman is hesitant, to the point that he told me to push for Wandarimo's proposal." She walks slowly toward the long sofa. "If he were truly certain, he should believe that the Alliance's law will reject it." "And he wouldn't need to come see me..."
Her body reclines onto the long sofa. The softness of the cushions causes all her muscles to gradually relax, while her eyelids feel increasingly heavy. "Then... why is Wandarimo planning to propose such a thing...?"
Her head rests against the soft sofa. Unawares, overwhelming exhaustion slowly overtakes her body. Her eyelids close tightly until she finally falls asleep before she can find an answer to her own question.
Darkness. In her slumber, Samiranah finds everything appearing dark. That dream once again brings her face-to-face with a figure who looks so much like her. They are standing atop a steep black rock cliff, with crashing ocean waves pounding against the coral down below. She does not recognize the place, knowing only its features resemble the North Sanajayan region, the Alingkukoh area.
"Hi, we meet again," the figure resembling her turns her head, looking at Samiranah standing and gazing at the ocean before her. "I've fallen asleep again," Samiranah replies. "Don't worry, you need to take care of your health," the shadow figure says. "I don't understand why some Alliance high officials always close themselves off. Why do they never tell if, say, they receive a divine revelation?" "Because a revelation is not proof," the figure closes her eyes while smiling. The figure continues, "It is merely a burden carried by the one who receives it. If everyone announces what they see, the Alliance will no longer be led by wisdom, but by conflicting interpretations."
The figure reaches out and takes hold of both of Samiranah's hands. For a brief moment, Samiranah looks at the face that is completely identical to her own. "Not every truth must be spoken immediately. Some must wait for time, because words born too soon can sometimes change the path that should happen." "All this time I haven't known, who are you?" "Why are you always in my sleep?"
The figure smiles warmly. "You rarely sleep, Samiranah." "You know it yourself, every day you wait until past the last third of the night." "And you have been doing that ever since you became..." Her sentence cuts off. "...the Crescent Moon Wanderer." "For six years you haven't paid enough attention to yourself."
Samiranah returns the figure's grip, then tightens her hold. "I beg you, tell me..." "How to purify the Inner Pledge (Batin Pangikrar)?"
The figure smiles again and returns her grip gently. "You already know the way, Samiranah. You have purified it."
Samiranah's eyes open. Her gaze turns to the bookshelf in front of her. She realizes. "Once again, the dream answers the same thing."
She hurriedly gets up and stands on her feet. Her hand pours a ceramic teapot onto a table, then she walks toward the balcony carrying a cup of warm tea. Before her stretches the panorama of the silent palace in the middle of the night. Her body reclines on a mini daybed, and she places her cup on the side table. If she tries to sleep again to continue that dream, that figure surely will not appear. The figure in her dreams always appears precisely when she does not expect it.
Her eyes stare at the shining, bluish-white moon, making her tear-stained face and the faint dark circles around her eyelids more distinct. Now she waits once more for the night to provide answers. Every day, every night.