2025-01-02 23:16:32One morning, Darian received a phone call on his cellphone—a gift from Grandpa Ronan. Conversely, a distressed older woman’s voice delivered terrible news. The woman was Grandma Asih, Grandpa Darian’s neighbour in the mountains. Grandma Asih informed Darian that his grandfather, Grandpa Surya, was seriously ill.
The news hit Darian like a blow to the chest. He felt torn. He needed to return to the mountains immediately, but he also had to ask for permission from Grandpa Ronan, his employer. With a pounding heart, Darian nervously approached Grandpa Ronan in his study.
“Grandpa,” Darian called, his voice slightly trembling.
Grandpa Ronan turned, his gaze sharp but warm. “What is it, Darian?”
Darian took a deep breath. “I… I received some bad news, Grandpa. Grandpa Surya, my grandfather in the mountains, is very ill.”
Grandpa Ronan furrowed his brow. He paused for a moment as if processing the information. The room grew quiet; only the faint ticking of the wall clock could be heard.
“I want… I want to go back to the mountains, Grandpa,” Darian continued, his voice barely audible. He looked at Grandpa Ronan with hopeful eyes.
Grandpa Ronan stared at Darian for a long time. He saw the sadness and concern reflected in his grandson’s eyes. After a moment, Grandpa Ronan nodded slowly.
“Go ahead, Darian,” said Grandpa Ronan, his voice soft. “Your family’s health is more important. Go home and take care of your grandfather.”
Darian felt a wave of relief. He bowed respectfully, gratitude filling his heart. “Thank you, Grandpa. I will never forget your kindness.”
With Grandpa Ronan’s permission, Darian hurriedly prepared for his departure. He left the Adinata family’s lavish home, leaving behind Kirana and all the insults he had endured. His departure was a liberation, an escape from the hell he had lived in for so long.
The cold air cut through the bones, slicing through the morning silence at the peak of Mount Pelangi. Thick fog enveloped the dense forest, only occasionally parting with the gusts of wind that carried the scent of wet earth and pine.
In the stillness of the morning, a thin young man stood upright before an older man with long white hair neatly tied. The older man, Grandpa Surya, was the only family the young man had.
His face was wrinkled, but his eyes remained sharp and gleaming with vitality. He held a simple wooden staff in his hand, but in his grip, it transformed into a deadly weapon.
“Watch out, Darian!” cried Grandpa Surya, his voice heavy yet gentle. Grandpa Surya swung his staff swiftly, his movements agile and powerful despite his advanced age.
Darian dodged with finesse, his body moving like a nimble forest cat. He had trained for years under Grandpa Surya’s guidance, learning the traditional martial arts passed down through generations. His movements were still stiff, but they already displayed extraordinary potential.
Darian parried the next strike with his bare hands, his muscles tensing. Grandpa Surya smiled faintly, seeing Darian’s progress.
He knew that Darian had a natural talent for martial arts, a talent that needed to be honed into a powerful weapon to protect himself.
Grandpa Surya attacked again with rapid and precise punches and kicks. Darian was overwhelmed, nearly falling several times.
However, he rose again with strong determination, striving to keep up with every movement of Grandpa Surya.
“Breathe deeply, Darian,” said Grandpa Surya, his voice calm amidst the flurry of their sparring. “Gather your focus. Feel the flow of energy within your body.”
Darian followed Grandpa Surya’s advice, taking deep breaths and trying to calm his mind. He began feeling the energy flow within his body, making him more substantial and focused.
Slowly, Darian began to match Grandpa Surya’s movements more effectively. He parried attacks with greater precision and even managed to land a few counterattacks.
A satisfied smile appeared on Grandpa Surya’s face. He knew Darian had found the balance between physical strength and inner energy.
“Keep practising, Darian,” said Grandpa Surya. “Your talent is extraordinary, but only through hard training will you reach the peak of your abilities.”
The sun started to rise from behind the fog, illuminating the mountaintop still covered by the morning chill.
Grandpa Surya, with his wooden staff, launched a barrage of attacks. His movements, though seemingly simple, were filled with power and precision.
Darian, with agility, blocked each strike, his body moving nimbly and quickly. Sweat soaked his body, but he remained focused, trying to absorb every lesson Grandpa Surya taught.
He was learning not only martial techniques but also patience, discipline, and self-control.
After several hours of training, Grandpa Surya stopped the session. “That’s enough for today, Darian,” he said, his voice heavy but gentle. “Your body needs rest. Let’s go hunting.”
Darian nodded. His body is tired, yet his spirit is still burned with energy. He thoroughly enjoyed the martial arts training and the hunting excursions with Grandpa Surya.
It was their way of surviving in the wilds of Mount Pelangi and a means to sharpen Darian’s skills.
They walked down the mountain slope, entering the dense, quiet forest. Grandpa Surya showed Darian various plants and animals, teaching him about their properties and how to use them for survival.
Darian paid close attention, absorbing every bit of knowledge Grandpa Surya imparted. He knew that this knowledge would be invaluable for his survival.
After walking for a while, they came across the tracks of a deer. Darian’s eyes sparkled. This was his chance to test his hunting skills. Grandpa Surya smiled and gestured for Darian to lead the hunt this time.
Darian moved carefully, following the deer’s trail with keen precision. He applied all the knowledge that Grandpa Surya had taught him, using the terrain and cover to get closer to his prey. He moved quietly and patiently, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
After a while, Darian managed to get close to the deer. With a swift and accurate motion, he launched his arrow. The arrow hit its mark, and the deer collapsed to the ground.
Darian felt a surge of joy at his success. He had tested his hunting abilities and proved that he had learned much from Grandpa Surya.
Grandpa Surya merely smiled, proud of Darian’s progress. They then dressed the deer and headed back home, ready to enjoy the fruits of their labour. The sun began to set, painting the sky with shades of orange and pink as they returned, tired but satisfied.
Now, a public transport vehicle stopped on a minor road at the foot of Mount Pelangi. Darian disembarked, his steps firm despite his weariness. His worn-out backpack hung from his shoulders, carrying only a little provision.
The cool mountain air greeted him, carrying the scent of earth and dew-soaked foliage. The memories of his childhood on Mount Pelangi, where Grandpa Surya shaped him, resurfaced and came alive in his mind. But now, he was returning not as a naive young man but as an adult who had felt the harshness of life outside.
He walked along the winding path toward a simple house nestled in the mountain. But as he drew closer, he felt something was different.
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