The Thief

by Rama Nugraha

  The two braced themselves when the three Royans walked into the room. Datan felt faint tension falling upon them.

  “My brothers! Datan Woudward has come!” Nymeria announced. She tapped the shoulder of the man with glasses in which one of the lenses was green. “Well, Datan. This is Jasin Dagalla. He’s an excellent potion master!” she then turned to the other man, the one smoking babag which had a calm face with blue eyes as sharp as knives. “And Antal Hirkala, a great assassin. He loves chewing babag, and I meant really chewing it,” she laughed. “They are a part of the family that I love. Right, so... what do you want to drink? Naqi?”

  Datan scoffed. “I didn’t come here to drink some naqi with your family, Nay,” he said coldly. “Where is my father?”

  “Datan!” Nymeria hissed, glaring. “I’m trying to be polite here!”

  Jasin cleared his throat. “Let him be, Meria,” he closed his book, though his index finger was pointed towards the book, acting as a bookmark. “Datan, you are an Ingran, are you?” he inquired with an overly enthusiastic gaze. “I heard they have the best physique. I wonder… ah, Tanjiji did not react well to your skin, didn’t it?”

  Datan scratched his one-centimeter beard. He paid the other no mind. He did not even bother to open his mouth or to even spare him some glance. Datan looked straightly at Nymeria.

  Jasin stilled, frowning, his face turned sour. He had just been ignored. His gaze changed, looking at Datan as if the Ingran man was the stupidest man ever. There was no sound. The air in the room was so tense that it made all of them sweat.

  “Who are all of you actually?” Iriana was the first one to speak.

  Antal made a buzzing sound. “It is not necessary to know who we are, Kahisar Irirana,” he replied. “I know who you are and I feel honored to meet you. What a great coincidence.”

  A thin smile appeared on Antal’s pale face. The way he stared at her showed a deep interest. Antal straightened his back and put one of his hand into his pocket, smoking babag in between the fingers of his left hand. He blew the purple smoke through his narrow nostrils. The Royans were tense, still looking at Antal like he was a predator looking for prey.

  “I’d never thought,” Antal stated. “That you are this charming. You always look young, beautiful. You’re smart, courageous, and an El Esa… oh. The Man with Red Eyes was not wrong. You are, indeed, a perfect woman.”

  Irirana looked like she had been stabbed in her abdomen. Her face stiffened. Beads of sweat were visible in her foreheads. “What did you just say?” her voice sounded nervous as he noticed something.

  “Yes. I wonder…” Antal ignored her, his smile widened and his eyes were filled with lust. He scanned Irirana from the top of her head towards her slim body behind the cloak. His gaze kept going downwards until it reached the tip of her toe. “Lie to me, Lady. Are you happy? Do you still have room for a man?”

  Datan widened his eyes. His heart raced. How dare he?! He almost sheathed his sword when—

  Kanas moved faster. He threw a dangerous warning towards Antal from where he stood, threatening him with something. “Watch your mouth, Boy,” his voice was as sharp as a sword that could split the air.

  Datan chocked. His blood sizzled.

  Antal, on the other hand, looked astonished. “A flintlock!” he exclaimed, taking a step to the side, away from the window. “How many bullets are in there? One? Eh, two?”

  Kanas touched the trigger, while the muzzle was pointed at Antal. “There’s enough to end your life in a heartbeat,” he stated. He was ready to shoot anytime.

  Datan knew that a flintlock was a rare item. He had only seen it once back in Tormera in a Night Market around nine years ago. It was sold by a mysterious merchant from Surak Country in Bavarat. That time everyone fought to own it, despite the price, and the fact that the gun was rusty, not to mention it was often clogged when used for shooting. Yet, Kanas’ flintlock had double barrels and was clearly taken cared of well. It was shiny black with the symbol of red Urtaya in the handle. Gun enthusiasts would want to own it, even Datan.

  Antal pretended to shiver. He bit and chewed the tip of the babag in between his lips. “A special gun. Only owned by Royan One, right?” he puffed his chest. His nose blew more babag smoke to the air. “Come on, shot me.” There was no hesitation in his eyes.

  Yet, Kanas’ index finger trembled. He was holding himself back, unable to pull the cold gold that was the trigger. He had to stop because he could felt Irirana’s disapproving gaze from his peripheral vision.

  “Lower your gun, Kanas,” Irirana stated.

  Datan felt great wrath being confined inside Irirana. Her hands squeezed each other before she balled them into fists. Antal managed to ignite her anger. What did he mean by saying that?

  Kanas tensed, his face displayed rigid wrinkles. He sighed loudly, letting his anger out somehow, then he lowered his gun. Antal was amazed to see how obedient Kanas was toward Irirana. He smiled victoriously.

  Jasin cleared his throat again like there was something constantly bugging his throat. It was distracting. He looked at Nymeria. “Is this drama over, Meria?” she asked. “Because I have to go. Our mission in Eglak took time, we don’t have that much time to spare.”

  Nymeria nodded. “I understand, Jasin,” she said.

  Datar turned Malika, scratching the tip of his thumb. “So, where is my father, Nay?”

  “I’ll take you to him now.”

  “Nymeria may go with Datan,” Irirana said sharply, his hand rested on the handle of the sword in her ginger. “But Jasin and Antal aren’t going anywhere. I still want to talk to you.”

  Antal glowered coldly, he laughed dryly. “You think you have the authority over us, Lady?”

  Irirana gasped, she froze as tension thickens between them.

  “Then you’re wrong!” Antal flicked the half-burnt babag towards the Royans while spontaneously stomped the wooden floor with his left feet.

  A sharp click of something mechanical was heard.

  White smoke smelling like chalk spurted from the gap between the floors, suffocating the Royans. It pierced their skin and blinded them for a moment. Everything happened too fast, too surprising. The air in the room was hot like it was burning. Kanas hold back his breath, breaking the front door when he still could. Though his eyes ached he managed to pull Irirana out of the house.

  Datan was left inside.

  “Poisonous gas!” Kanas shouted, coughed caused by the burning sensation in his throat.

  Irirana clutched her chest, gasping for air. “Where’s Datan?”

  Kanas and Irirana saw the opened door. Nothing could be seen except thick white smoke coming out of the ventilation gap in the windows and the cracks in the roof. It made a loud hiss from the gap from the floor. They waited until a minute passed. No one came out of the smoke. There was no movement in there.

  Irirana covered her mouth, shocked. Tears pooled her eyes.

  ◆◆◆

  Nymeria grabbed Datan’s hand, going through the smoke. Before she blinked, her eyes turned silver. Nymeria bit her lower lip, making it bleed. Her clothes were stained by blood from a stab in her left shoulder. In a blink of an eye, Nymeria changed, she looked like she was holding back immense pain.

  What happened?

  “Your father,” she whispered.

  Datan shook his heavy head. There was no time to think. He followed Nymeria. They climbed down rusty iron stairs under the floor, until they reached a long corridor that went downward.

  Torches with blue fire blazed in both sides of the wall. The placing of the sconce that was far away from each other made the corridor looked dim. The damp air hit them along with foreign silence which was broken by the sound of crackling fire and sharp breathing.

  Antal patted the dust away from his pants. “You alright, Meria?” he asked. He tightened his black coat with orange inside. The hem of the front of his cloak was clipped together with a gold brooch in the shape of a cracked mask with hollow eyes.
>
  “Yeah!” Nymeria panted. Her index and a middle finger touched the blood in her shoulder, sniffing it with her eyes closed. “I was just surprised. But I manage to control it.”

  Antal gave her an odd look. “Why don’t you just take the stone now?” he asked. “While he’s still out of his mind.”

  “It won’t be as fun, then, Antal. I still want to play with him.”

  Antal’s mouth formed a thin line.

  “Your greatest enemy is yourself,” Jasin uttered wisely. He walked towards Nymeria and hugged her. “And you’ve managed to beat it, Meria.”

  Nymeria giggled softly. “Only sometimes, Jasin,” she chirped.

  Then Antal took his turn to hug Nymeria. “Don’t go overboard, Meria,” he warned.

  “I understand,” Nymeria said. “You too, good luck.”

  “Glasses,” Antal looked away. “Come on!”

  Datan felt strange. He tried to focus to comprehend what was going on. But, it was unbearably difficult. His brain was numb and his hearing weakened. It was as if he forgot some of the things that had happened. Datan starred at Antal and Jasin, who had put on their cloak and held their belongings. They were about to depart, leaving them to walk in the corridor. Datan heard a small click following Jasin’s steps.

  Nymeria focused her attention toward Datan when the two figures disappeared at the end of the corridor. Nymeria waited, smiling.

  Datan sat, leaning his back on a hard surface. He still could not comprehend the situation. “Why do I become stupid like this?” he asked, bewildered seeing Nymeria.

  “It’s normal,” Nymeria laughed. “Piloo was designed to null one’s intelligence in an instant. Making someone confused. Jasin is the only one who could make the antidote. It doesn’t last long, though. An hour, at most.”

  Datan was dumbfounded. He was certain his face looked idiotic now. He winced. “My chest hurts,” Datan showed an exaggerated breathing gesture while holding his chest, he blinked vigorously like something got into his eyes, staring at his hand that became even redder.

  “Will I be alright?”

  “That’s just side effect. It’ll wear off. You can stand, right? Come on, let’s get out of here.”

  “You sure?”

  “I am.”

  “My father?”

  “You’ll see him soon.”

  Nymeria helped Datan stand and they walked further away from the rusty staircase.

  The roots of the trees made the water from the soil seep through the ceiling though it had been layered by ceramic and rags. Drops of water made spider webs glistened as they were illuminated by the light from the torches. A layer of dust covered every inch of the neglected corridor, suggesting that there had not been any visitors before them. Once in a while, black mice squeaked seeing them before fleeing. Once, Nymeria looked at the dirty wall, looking for the arrow mark she made in an intersection before walking again in silence. For a while, the lizard looked bored in her shoulder.

  Only the sound of footsteps and breathing accompanied them.

  Nymeria took Datan to a place he had never seen. It felt like going through a dead end into the unknown where the terrain kept going downward with plenty of turns. It was suffocating, the air was filled with the smell of rotting dead mouse that had dried for decades, making the hair on his body squirmed. Until they reached an area where there was no more torch, leaving only a pitch black corridor before them. Nymeria took one of the last torches from the sconce.

  “You don’t need one, do you?”

  “No,” Datan replied. His body had turned normal and his nose felt tortured. “I hope we’re not lost, Nay. You really pissed me off. First, you separate me from my friends, and now you drag me to this suffocating rat nest. What are you trying to do? Where do you hide my father?”

  “Patience, Datan. Just a little more. And also, I want to show you something.”

  They went through damp blindness. They kept went down, perhaps into the bottom of the soil. With his Ingran eyes, Datan saw the corridor got wider and became more of a dirty mess. He could see everything with his eyes including the faded color scheme ten meters ahead of him, further than that, it turned greyscale. Then, light could finally be found, and soon, they were outside.

  A warm breeze brushed against his face, easing the foul smell that had been lingering around them.

  They were in a vast stoic land near a slope which ended in a valley. Blue vines spread evenly, adorning the black wall, displaying the entire structure of the murky cave. The scent in the air changed as a large door showed itself in a great distance, surrounded by thin fog. The door looked very distinct. Old. Yet, it was sturdy, standing so tall that it was threefold the height of three Suba Tower. Datan’s eyes were glued to the sight before him, his legs unconsciously approached the end of the road.

  Datan was astounded. Immense fear crept upon his face.

  Chapter 32

  To the Other Side

  Neena in the Surface called it The Osberga Door.

  The door was made of ninety-nine plates of Black Iron. People said it was built by ninety-nine blacksmiths and that it took ninety-nine years to build it. It had ninety-nine sculpture of ancient symbols made of gold. It was the gate between the two realms. The arrangement of the symbols formed blazing fire, displaying majestic ancient times, and heavily influenced by the obsession of power. It was said that the sculpture changed every ninety-nine years, forming the rest of the four elements that exist.

  Datan’s nape felt cold.

  Looking down, Datan found an estuary and small houses surrounded by twinkling round lantern. Datan also saw tunnels in the slope, all of which connected to the bottom of the valley in the cave.

  In the distance, Jasin and Antal were climbing down one of those.

  Looking up, vines of gigantic plants covered almost the entire opening of the cave, blocking the silver light hanging in the starry sky.

  “Why are we here, Nay?” Datan turned to the other, his voice cracked.

  Nymeria stood next to him, raising her left hand holding the torch as she mustered a small smile under the blue light. “What were you thinking about when you see that door?” she asked curiously. “You can smell it, can you? The burnt smell came from those symbols. They said the door affected the atmosphere around it.”

  Datan did not understand, nor did he care. He felt on edge as bad feeling washed over him. “Where is my father?”

  “You haven’t answered my question.”

  “Neither have you… since way earlier,” Datan asserted. “Where is my father?”

  Nymeria sighed. She finally pointed an Urgut hut at the corner of a field which Datan did not manage to see earlier. A dim light glowed inside, which was visible through the dirty and cracked square glass window.

  “You locked up my father there?” Datan shouted harshly.

  “Relax, Datan. Your father is taken cared of well. I gave him many things, whatever he wants that I could get. Seafood—especially Hunig meat.”

  Datan shook his head. “Father doesn’t like seafood,” he scoffed. “Especially Hunig meat. I don’t think he has even tried that.”

  “You are the one that never tried. With me, he seemed to like it,” Nymeria shrugged.

  Datan clicked her tongue impatiently, he left Nymeria to meet Father. But as he was close enough, his steps stopped. His eyes noticed the presence of a group of men and women behind the stones, hidden by the darkness in both sides of the cave.

  They dressed in rags like homeless people. Some of them were standing, while the others were sitting down. They were honing, playing around with sharp knives in their hold. They looked like a bunch of big violent mercenaries. Some of their hair was silver. While Urgut people in the crowd were bald. Their faces were white like they had been vigorously powdered. They have tattoos of red-scaled snake surrounding their slippery forehead. Swords, ax, and knives were hung around their body.

  Datan could feel the danger emitted by those bloodthirsty eyes.
>
  Datan turned to face Nymeria. In his mind, he was frightened. “Really, Nay?”

  “Meria, Datan, come on. I still want to talk to you.”

  “What do you even want to talk about?” Datan tried to keep himself composure.

  “The reason why I chose you,” Nymeria answered. She looked at the looming Osberga Door. “I wonder… have you found your life purpose?”

  Datan frowned. “Of course,” he said. “I live for the League of Royans.”

  Nymeria looked at Datan once again. “Are you sure?” she inquired. She narrowed her eyes and her gaze pierced him deeply, trying to probe the inside of Datan’s mind. “Not everyone truly understands the answer to that question.”

  “You talk too much.”

  “What if I offer you a new purpose?”

  “Not interested.”

  “What if I want to?”

  “Who cares? I won’t let you dictate my life, Nay.”

  “Maybe I can persuade you anyway?”

  “Enough!” Datan barked. “You’re like a deaf woman who can’t comprehend other people’s words!”

  Nymeria bit her thumb, standing still to hold back anger. She was staring at Datan, but then she started to smile. Datan hated that smile. It felt like she had an ulterior motive. Datan felt tension and anxiety crept upon his legs into his chest, making it hard to breathe.

  “I want to see my father. Now.”

  Nymeria approached Datan and stopped right before him. “Alright,” she said.

  Nymeria’s gazed across the street, signaling something towards a boy who came out of the darkness running. The boy hen bobbed his head. He knocked on the door of the hut twice, then he waited. The door was opened. Datan held his breath as he saw Father emerging from the hut. Father looked unharmed, he even looked somewhat heavier than the last time Datan saw him.

  “Father?” Datan approached him.

  “Datan?” Father squinted, he walked closer. “For Unum, my son Datan!”

  “Father!” Datan was so touched that he felt suffocated.

  They were about to hug each other when—

  Father stopped. “No, no,” he denied.