Lira could no longer fully hide the fear that had taken root after hearing that mysterious whisper. Even as Arka held her tightly, soothing her with his gentle voice, Lira knew something was lurking outside the hut—something not from Arka's world, yet not from the Kayangan she once knew either. The cold from that dark energy still clung to her skin like morning dew refusing to evaporate.
"Are you sure it was a voice, Lira? Not just the wind?" Arka asked again, trying to sound logical, though the worry in his tone was unmistakable. He pulled back slightly, gazing into her eyes.
Lira shook her head quickly, still panting. "Not the wind, Arka. I... I felt it. The same energy I felt at the pond this afternoon. Cold and… evil." She hugged her knees, curling in on herself. "It told me to go home. But the voice… it wasn't from Kayangan."
Arka frowned. He wanted to believe her, but the idea of "evil energy" and "whispers" was beyond his understanding as a farmer. Still, he saw the real terror in Lira's eyes, and that was enough. He would never doubt what she felt.
"Don't worry, Lira. I'll protect you," Arka promised, gripping her hand tightly. "We'll figure this out. Together."
That night, Arka placed his hoe beside the door, knowing full well it wouldn't help much if the threat Lira sensed was real. He left the oil lamp burning longer than usual, casting a dim, warm light across the cold, tense hut. He sat outside on the porch, letting Lira sleep first, keeping watch.
But Lira couldn't sleep peacefully. The whisper kept spinning in her mind—sometimes soft like rustling leaves, sometimes clear as if someone was right by her ear.
"Come home... Return… Destiny…"
Caught between sleep and wakefulness, Lira felt herself pulled into a dream—but this wasn't an ordinary dream. It was a vision.
She stood in the midst of ancient ruins, not of Earth, but shattered crystal structures that resembled the architecture of Kayangan—though darker, more somber. Black moss crept along the crumbling walls, and the air was cold enough to pierce the bone.
Then, in the distance, she saw a faint glow—like something calling her. Lira stepped forward, her feet heavy. The closer she got, the more clearly she saw the source of the light: an ancient, open book resting atop a cracked stone altar. The book was made of a dark material she'd never seen before—cold to the touch, engraved with strange symbols that felt oddly familiar.
As Lira approached, the pages began to flip on their own, as if an invisible wind turned them. Strange illustrations appeared: winged creatures that resembled fairies but exuded a dark aura; the silhouette of a volcano erupting; and then… a chain of light binding something vast and shadowy within a chasm.
Suddenly, a deep, ancient voice echoed throughout the ruins, rumbling like it came from the book itself. Not the cold whisper she'd heard the night before—this was older, wiser… and sorrowful.
"Division… downfall… only… what is rooted… shall endure…"
The words were fragmented, incomplete—but Lira felt their weight. What did it all mean? Division? Downfall? And what was rooted?
Then, the same dark energy from the previous night surged, filling the ruins. The light from the book dimmed, and the chains in the illustration began to crack. Panic surged in Lira's chest. She reached for the book, desperate to read more, but the dark energy pushed her back.
She screamed.
Her cry jolted Arka awake on the porch. He burst inside, breath quick. "Lira! What happened?!"
Lira awoke with a start, her body trembling violently, cold sweat on her brow. Her eyes were wide with horror. "Arka… I… I had a dream—or maybe a vision..."
She tried to explain the strange dream: the dark ruins, the ancient book, the cryptic whispers. Arka listened patiently, though he couldn't imagine it all.
"An ancient book? Ruins? Maybe it was just a nightmare, Lira," Arka said gently, wrapping his arms around her and rubbing her back.
"No, Arka. It felt real. That voice… it was different from the one last night. It was older. And that dark energy was there too," Lira insisted, her gaze desperate. "I don't think this is just about me. I think this is about something much bigger."
Arka couldn't respond. His mind was blank. Too many strange things had happened since Lira entered his life. But one thing was certain: he would do whatever it took to protect this girl.
"What if… we tried to find that place?" Arka suggested. He knew how absurd it sounded—chasing ruins from a dream. But he saw the conviction in Lira's eyes. "If it felt that real, maybe it actually exists."
Lira's eyes widened, a spark of hope lighting up within her. "You'd help me?"
"Of course," Arka replied firmly. "I won't let you face this alone. And if there's a danger threatening you, I want to understand it too."
Arka took her hand, and the warmth from his touch was a sharp contrast to the chill of her vision. Their decision to seek the truth—even if dangerous—felt like the first right step.
---
Meanwhile, in Kayangan, King Eldrin sat on his throne, his gaze sharp and calculating. Beside him stood his wise advisor, the fairy Elarion.
"The surge of dark energy is growing stronger, Your Majesty," Elarion reported, his voice calm but laced with concern. "It's exactly like what happened thousands of years ago."
King Eldrin nodded. "I know. And what worries me most is that Lira—my daughter—she is the center of it."
"You mean… she's attracting the energy?" Elarion asked, stunned.
"No. She's the trigger," Eldrin said gravely. "Her fall, the merging of Kayangan and Earth's energy within her—it has awakened something that should have stayed asleep. An ancient threat bound by forbidden laws themselves."
"We must find her," the king continued, his voice carrying the weight of millennia. "Before she becomes a lure to that power—or worse… before she becomes the key to setting it free."
His words hung in the air, heavy with mystery and foreboding.
Back on Earth, Lira and Arka had only just begun their journey—unaware that they were not merely seeking answers, but were walking straight toward a destiny far greater than either of them could imagine—one that could shake the very foundations of Kayangan and Earth.