Rainbow Valley Village was a stark contrast to the familiar wilderness and rugged cliffs of Mount Tarakan. The air here was a symphony of sounds: chattering voices, children's laughter, and the steady hum of activity. Wira's senses were bombarded by unfamiliar scents: the savory aroma of cooking from various homes, the earthy smell of livestock, and the mingled scent of human sweat and street dust. All of it, for Wira, was an overwhelming and extraordinary experience.
He walked beside Laksmi, his head swiveling, trying to absorb every single detail. A small child herding goats caught his eye. An old woman meticulously weaving a basket by the roadside drew his gaze for a long moment. He saw a mother hanging colorful clothes on a line, their bright hues dancing in the morning breeze. A group of men were repairing a roof, their hammers clanging rhythmically. Every single sight, every subtle sound, was a novel, captivating spectacle.
"Laksmi, are they all… humans? No tigers or monkeys?" Wira whispered, his eyes glued to a group of women pounding rice, their movements a synchronized dance. He found himself mesmerized by their rhythmic thudding, so different from the silent, predatory movements of the jungle.
Laksmi stifled a laugh, trying not to draw attention. "Yes, Wira. They're all humans. There are no wild tigers roaming the streets here."
"Oh," Wira nodded slowly, his brows furrowed in thought. He watched an old man carving a wooden statue, his fingers nimble and precise. "But… why are their body shapes so different? Some are small like fawn, some are large like wild boars… Are they from different sects?" He remembered his grandpa explaining how different animal species had distinct forms.
Laksmi sighed softly, a mix of exasperation and amusement on her face. "No, Wira. That's because of their age and their work. The small ones are children. The large ones are adults. Everyone is different. It's not because of sects."
They reached the village center, a small open field dotted with simple stalls. The rich aroma of satay and fried snacks wafted through the air, making Wira's stomach rumble again, despite having just eaten roasted chicken. His nose twitched as he tried to identify each new scent. It was like a forest of smells, each distinct and intriguing.
"What's that?" Wira pointed to a stall selling colorful cakes, vibrant hues he'd never seen in nature. "Is that poison? The colors are so strange." He wondered if they were fruits from some exotic, dangerous plant.
Laksmi quickly pulled Wira away from the stall. "No, those are food. They're called cakes. Come on, we need to find a safe place first. Maybe some of my parents' acquaintances are here."
However, before Laksmi could take another step, a loud voice called out. "Laksmi! Is that really you, child?"
A middle-aged woman with wrinkles etched on her face and neatly tied hair rushed towards them. Her eyes were red and swollen, as if she had been crying for a long time. She immediately embraced Laksmi tightly.
"Child Laksmi! Oh my goodness, you're safe! Your parents… they…" The woman couldn't continue, sobbing into Laksmi's shoulder.
Laksmi returned the hug, tears starting to fall from her own eyes. "Aunt Suri… what happened? Why did they do this to my parents?"
Aunt Suri released the embrace, looking at Laksmi with eyes full of sorrow. "Last night… a group of masked men stormed the village. They were looking for something… they seemed to be looking for you! Your parents tried to protect you, but they…" Aunt Suri's voice hitched, unable to continue. She glanced at Wira, who stood stiffly beside Laksmi, observing the situation with a pure, unreadable expression. He looked at Aunt Suri's red eyes, wondering if it was a side effect of some strange inner energy he didn't know. "Who is this young man, Child Laksmi?"
Laksmi remembered Wira. "He… he's my friend, Auntie. He saved me from the assassins in the forest."
Aunt Suri looked at Wira with a hint of suspicion, but Wira's innocent gaze showed no threat. His stillness, his calm demeanor, was so unusual in a village setting. "Thank you, young man. You both must be hungry and tired. Come, to my house first. It's not safe outside."
Wira and Laksmi followed Aunt Suri through the village streets. Several other villagers stared at them, their gazes filled with pity for Laksmi and questions for Wira. He could feel their eyes on him, but he didn't understand why. Were they performing some kind of village-wide observation technique?
As they arrived at a simple wooden house, Wira continued to observe his surroundings. There was a well near the house, and a girl around Laksmi's age was drawing water. The girl wore simple clothes, her hair neatly braided, and her face was clean.
Wira watched the girl for a long time, then turned to Laksmi. "Laksmi… that one is also a woman, right?" He studied her movements, comparing them to Laksmi's, trying to find common traits. She wasn't as dirty, and her clothes were simpler, but the general shape was consistent with Laksmi's "not muscles."
Laksmi nodded, feeling a slight relief that Wira could finally distinguish genders. "Yes, Wira. That's Aunt Suri's daughter, her name is Ayu."
Wira nodded slowly, still trying to process all this new information. Human body shapes truly were diverse. And it seemed, in the outside world, there were rules far more complex than just martial arts techniques or hunting.
"Ayu… her face is different from yours. But sama-sama perempuan. Berarti… perempuan itu banyak jenisnya ya?" Wira berbisik pada Laksmi, suaranya penuh rasa ingin tahu. He wondered if this meant there were different "species" of women, just like there were different types of deer or monkeys.
Laksmi only rolled her eyes. This was going to be a very long journey. She pulled Wira's hand to enter the house, so their conversation wouldn't be overheard by too many people.
Inside the humble wooden house, Aunt Suri immediately served them water and some boiled cassava. Wira devoured it ravenously, as if he hadn't eaten in days. Laksmi only sipped her water slowly, still shaken.
Bibi Suri was busy preparing other food, and Laksmi took the opportunity. She looked at Wira intently.
"Wira," she said softly. "You… you really have never seen other humans besides your grandpa? You lived alone with him on that mountain?"
Wira stopped chewing the cassava, looking at Laksmi with innocent eyes. "Yes. Why?"
Laksmi fell silent for a moment. She began to understand everything. How Wira could be so strong yet so utterly naive about fundamental things. How he thought 'chest muscles' were actual muscles, or that a 'bride' was a martial technique. All this time, his only social interaction had been with his grandfather. There was no village, no market, no women, no concept of ownership, not even an understanding of the diversity of human forms.
"No wonder…" Laksmi murmured, more to herself. A faint smile, a mix of pity and amusement, touched her lips. "No wonder you're like this. That means… you've never known the world outside the mountain?"
Wira nodded enthusiastically. "No. Grandpa said the outside world was too dangerous. Too many evil martial artists. But now he says I'm ready, and I have to find a bride." He paused, then his eyes lit up. "So, Laksmi, are there special techniques for finding a bride? Like a secret hand sign, or a specific type of plant to give them? My Grandpa mentioned something about 'the heart,' but he didn't elaborate on the practical methods."
A moment later, Wira's gaze drifted to a small wooden doll propped on a shelf, intricately carved with what looked like a tiny, stylized human figure. He tilted his head, comparing it to the actual villagers outside. He wondered if this was how humans documented their "forms" – much like his grandpa would draw diagrams of martial postures in the dirt. He then looked at Laksmi, a new question forming in his mind, but decided against asking it, realizing she was still upset about his 'chest muscles' comment. It was a lot to take in, this human world, where things weren't as straightforward as a well-aimed punch or the scent of a wild boar.
Laksmi rubbed her temples. This wasn't just about finding protection; it was about teaching someone from scratch how to be a part of society. A task far greater than she had imagined. But on the other hand, Wira's innocence and mysterious power might be the only hope she had right now.
"Alright, Wira," Laksmi took a deep breath. "I'll teach you. But you have to promise, you'll listen to me. And you won't do anything strange that gets us into trouble."
Wira grinned wide, showing his white teeth. "Understood, Laksmi! What's the first lesson about humans?"
Laksmi pointed to the plate of boiled cassava. "First lesson: You have to wait for others to eat before you finish everything yourself."
Wira looked down at the empty plate in front of him, then at Laksmi, who hadn't touched her food. His face flushed bright red. This was his first 'sin' in social interaction in the outside world, and he felt it clearly. It wasn't the pain of a blow, or the fatigue of training, but a strange, hot flush of embarrassment he'd never experienced. He realized the 'rules' his grandpa spoke of were far more nuanced than he'd ever imagined.
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📌 *Author's Note:*
Wira finally meets the "real human world"—and promptly mistakes cake for poison, villagers for animal sects, and… finishes all the food before anyone else can eat. 😅
Laksmi definitely has her hands full with this one.
What do you think of Rainbow Valley Village? Do you think Wira will blend in… or cause even more chaos?
Let me know in the comments! And don't forget to add this book to your collection 💙