Phase 1: Rise of the Orphan Blade
Chapter 2: The Forge's Heart
Part 1: Rivals and Roots
Kerisforge Stronghold wasn't just a place—it was a fire, burning away who I thought I was and forging something new. I'm Rentap Buana, sixteen, still carrying the weight of a vow made on Blood Island, a keris that chose me, and ancestors' whispers that wouldn't let me rest. The pirates, the kirin, the forge test—they'd brought me here, to a fortress of coral and jade, where every step felt like a challenge. I want to share with you what it was like to find my place among warriors who didn't know me, to face rivals who saw me as less, and to learn that strength isn't just in a blade but in the roots you claim. This is the part of my story where I stood among the Kerisforge Clan, not yet one of them, but fighting to be.
The air in Kerisforge was different—thick with salt, smoke, and the hum of ley lines, like the stronghold itself was alive. I'd passed the First Forge Test, my blood still drying on the arena sand, Taming Jiwa's jade pulse a steady rhythm in my hand. Kadir had called me one of them, but the elders' eyes, sharp as coral, said I'd only begun. The stronghold was a maze of coral halls, training grounds, and forges glowing with starlit flames, every corner pulsing with anime-style energy—jade waves from sparring warriors, mantras echoing like the sea. I was an outsider, my Blood Island tunic faded next to their kirin-etched armor, my rusted kerambit and Suri's jade-edged dagger small beside their gleaming kerises. But Taming Jiwa was different, its seven waves drawing stares, whispers of "Eldrin's blade" trailing me like shadows.
Kadir led me through the stronghold that first morning, his staff tapping coral floors, his voice gruff but steady. "Kerisforge isn't just a clan," he said, as we passed a forge where smiths chanted, jade fire shaping blades. "It's a hierarchy, built on skill, spirit, and loyalty. You're a novice, Rentap, bottom rung. Prove yourself, or you'll stay there."
I gripped Taming Jiwa, its pulse warm, Lila's coral bead heavy in my pocket. "How do I prove it?" I asked, my voice rough from the test's strain.
Kadir's eyes flicked to me, measuring. "Through training, trials, and trust. The Clan's divided—novices like you, adepts who've earned their blades, masters like Suri, and elders who guard the Sky Nexus. Each has a role, a test. Yours starts now."
We reached a courtyard, coral pillars circling a sand arena, jade runes glowing faintly. Dozens of novices trained, their kerises flashing, jade waves bursting as they sparred, Astra-Nusantara Silat forms flowing like the sea. Some were my age, others older, their tunics marked with kirin emblems, their eyes hard with purpose. I felt small, the weight of Blood Island's cliffs replaced by the stronghold's vastness, but Taming Jiwa's pulse pushed back my doubt, Assyafiee's whisper urging me forward.
Kadir gestured to a woman overseeing the novices, her armor etched with starlit vines, her keris sheathed but glowing. "This is Master Zainah," he said. "She'll guide you, but don't expect kindness. Earn it."
Zainah's gaze was like a blade, cutting through me. "Rentap Buana," she said, her voice sharp but not cruel. "Taming Jiwa's chosen, fresh from Blood Island. The elders speak of your vow, your kirin trial. But here, you're no one until you prove it. Join the novices. Show me what Kadir sees in you."
I nodded, my throat tight, and stepped into the arena, Taming Jiwa at my side, the rune pouch and coral bead steadying me. The novices' stares were heavy—some curious, some cold, a few smirking like I was prey. I wasn't the boy from the mangrove maze, not after Suri's stealth, Rahim's strength, Laila's spirit, Tengku's tactics, but I was still an outsider, my vow a secret I carried alone.
Zainah paired me with a novice named Hafiz, a wiry boy with a scar across his brow, his keris etched with coral runes. "Show me Storm Claw," he said, smirking, his stance loose but ready. The other novices watched, their sparring paused, the air thick with expectation.
I drew Taming Jiwa, its jade waves shimmering, and dropped into Storm Claw, the mantra, Ya Rahman, Ya Rahim, steady in my chest. Hafiz moved first, his keris flashing, jade waves bursting, anime-style, crackling against the sand. I countered, Veil Tide cloaking my steps, Taming Jiwa cutting through his wave, coral dust rising. He was fast, trained, but I'd faced pirates, a kirin, the forge's wraiths. I wove Sky Fang, feinting left, then struck with Iron Surge, my jade wave shattering his guard, sending him sprawling.
The courtyard went quiet, Hafiz panting in the sand, his smirk gone. Zainah's eyes narrowed, but she nodded. "Not bad, Blood Island. But don't get cocky. Next!"
The morning was a blur of spars, each novice tougher, their kerises sharper, their jade waves stronger. I held my own, Taming Jiwa alive in my hands, its pulse guiding my strikes, visions of the kirin and my parents flickering in my mind. But the hierarchy was clear—novices like Hafiz respected skill, not stories, and I was still the new blood, my place unearned.
At midday, Zainah gathered us, her voice cutting through the heat. "Kerisforge thrives on order," she said, pacing. "Novices train, adepts lead, masters teach, elders guide. You're here to climb, but only the worthy rise. Rentap, your keris draws eyes, but it's your heart we'll test. Tomorrow, you'll join the novice ranks formally. Prepare."
I nodded, sweat stinging my eyes, Taming Jiwa heavy but warm. The hierarchy felt like a mountain, each rung a fight, but the keris's pulse, the Ancestor's Whisper, my vow—they were my fire. I wasn't here to stay a novice. I was here for the Sky Nexus, for Blood Island, for the parents I'd never known.
Trouble came that evening, in a coral hall where novices ate, the air thick with smoke and laughter. I sat alone, Taming Jiwa sheathed, picking at rice and fish, Lila's coral bead in my hand, its glow a quiet comfort. Hafiz approached, flanked by two others—a tall girl with braided hair, her keris etched with star motifs, and a stocky boy with a parang, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Blood Island," Hafiz said, leaning close, his scar catching the torchlight. "You think you're special, with that keris? Taming Jiwa's a myth, and you're no legend."
I gripped the coral bead, Taming Jiwa's pulse stirring. "I don't think anything," I said, keeping my voice steady. "I'm here to train, same as you."
The girl—Nadia, I'd learn—laughed, sharp and cold. "Train? You're a fisherman's brat playing warrior. That keris deserves better."
The stocky boy, Kamil, smirked, tapping his parang. "Let's see it, then. Show us Eldrin's blade isn't wasted."
I stood, Taming Jiwa in hand, its jade glow flaring, anime-style, silencing the hall. Novices watched, some whispering, others grinning like a fight was sport. I didn't want this, not after the maze, the trial, the forge test, but the keris's pulse was clear: Stand. "Outside," I said, my voice low. "Not here."
They led me to a training ground, coral pillars glowing under moonlight, the sea's roar distant but fierce. Hafiz drew his keris, Nadia her star-etched blade, Kamil his parang, their jade waves flickering, ready. I faced them, Taming Jiwa alive, the mantra in my throat. "Three on one?" I said, Storm Claw steadying my stance. "Fair enough."
Hafiz struck first, his keris slashing, jade waves bursting. I dodged, Veil Tide cloaking me, Taming Jiwa countering, my wave shattering his, coral cracking. Nadia flanked, her blade a blur, but I wove Sky Fang, feinting, then struck with Iron Surge, sending her stumbling. Kamil roared, his parang swinging, jade waves heavy as stone, but I slid under, Star Whisper guiding me, the kirin's vision sharp in my mind, my jade wave slicing his guard.
They were skilled, trained by Kerisforge, but I'd fought for my life, faced a kirin, heard my ancestors. Taming Jiwa blazed, its pulse Assyafiee's strength, and I fought, blood dripping from a cut on my cheek, sand stinging my eyes. I disarmed Kamil with a Sky Fang twist, knocked Nadia back with Iron Surge, and pinned Hafiz with Veil Tide, my keris at his throat, jade waves trembling.
"Enough!" Zainah's voice cut through, her staff slamming the sand, jade energy rippling. She stood between us, eyes blazing. "You're novices, not enemies. Rentap, you fight like a master, but curb your pride. Hafiz, Nadia, Kamil—envy is a weak blade. Back to quarters, all of you."
I lowered Taming Jiwa, its glow softening, my breath ragged. Hafiz glared, but nodded, Nadia and Kamil trailing him, their eyes promising more fights. Zainah turned to me, her voice low. "You've got fire, Blood Island, but rivals sharpen you. Use them, don't break them."
I wiped blood from my cheek, Taming Jiwa warm in my hand. The hall, the fight, Zainah's words—they were Kerisforge's truth: strength earned respect, but trust was harder. I wasn't one of them, not yet, but Taming Jiwa, my vow, my blood—they were my roots, and I'd grow from them, rivals or not.
That night, I sat in my quarters, a small coral chamber, Taming Jiwa across my lap, its glow painting the walls. The rune pouch, coral bead, and kerambit lay beside me, Blood Island's anchors in this new world. The fight with Hafiz's crew left me shaken, not from their blades but from their words. Was I worthy of Taming Jiwa? The Sky Nexus, my parents' legacy, the Clan's hierarchy—it was a mountain, and I was still climbing.
I whispered the mantra, Ya Rahman, Ya Rahim, and felt Taming Jiwa's soul, Assyafiee's warmth, the kirin's strength. A vision flickered—my mother's face, her eyes kind but fierce, saying, "You're enough." I held onto that, the vow I'd made at Crimson Cliff, the fire that brought me here. Kerisforge was my forge now, its hierarchy my path, its rivals my sharpening stone. The Sky Nexus waited, and I'd face it, one fight at a time.
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