Reina awoke with a pounding head and a sore body. She lay on a bed made of woven hide and dry grass—rough and smelling of earth. The tent she was in was fairly spacious, its thick grayish fabric draped heavily, dimming the amber light that crept in through the folds.
In the corner stood a wooden table, cluttered with scrolls and strange metallic tools she couldn’t identify. Rows of glass bottles lined a hanging shelf, filled with greenish liquids that seemed alive—slowly swirling like trapped creatures. The air was tinged with the scent of herbs, metal, and a faint trace of blood.
Reina sat up cautiously, eyes scanning her surroundings with alertness. Her body still ached, but the magical bindings that had once wrapped her wrists were gone, leaving only a faint golden shimmer on her skin.
Suddenly, the tent flap parted. Without a sound, the tall, dark-haired figure stepped inside—Bhirendra.
Reina froze, her heart dropping. Her entire body tensed, instincts kicking in. She gripped the coarse blanket beside her like a shield, though she knew it wouldn’t protect her if he truly meant harm.
Bhirendra said nothing. He walked calmly over and placed a plate of hot food directly on Reina’s folded legs. Steam rose from a bowl of dark porridge that smelled savory and foreign. Beside it, a slab of reddish-black meat still oozed juice and blood.
Without changing expression, he stood straight before her, his muscular arms crossed. His eyes—sharp and deep green—stared straight into her. Cold. Intimidating. A gaze that said, “Eat. Or I’ll make you regret it.”
Reina bit her lip. She didn’t know if the food was safe. It could be poisoned. Or worse—part of a creature that wasn’t meant to be consumed. But hunger gnawed at her, and the look in his eyes left no room for negotiation.
Hesitantly, she lifted the wooden spoon and took a small bite. It tasted salty and strange—a mix of smoked meat and bitter herbs—but it wasn’t disgusting.
Bhirendra watched her, eyes narrowed. Only after she took the third bite did he turn away and settle onto a stool in the corner. He unrolled something that looked like a metallic scroll and began writing with his fingertip, leaving trails of glowing blue light that slowly faded—notes or a report, Reina couldn’t tell.
Silence pressed between them. Only the occasional clink of weapons, soldier footsteps, and the soft hum of the twin moons above the amber sky filled the space.
Reina lifted her gaze, trying to read his expression. But all she saw was a stone wall—no empathy, no emotion.
“Why didn’t you just kill me back there?” she asked softly, her voice hoarse.
Bhirendra didn’t answer right away. He slowly turned his head, meeting her eyes—for the first time, perhaps, not as sharply.
“Not yet,” he said coldly. “You… might be useful.”
Reina swallowed hard. She wasn’t sure if that was good news or the start of another curse. She leaned back against the edge of the bed. Her body still ached, but her mind was far more restless. She watched Bhirendra, still hunched over his glowing notes.
With half-formed courage, she broke the silence.
“Did any of your soldiers… find another outsider in the forest or somewhere? His name is Aditya Gumilang.”
Bhirendra didn’t respond immediately. His eyes remained fixed on the glowing script, as if Reina’s question were a minor distraction. But when she continued staring at him—pleading, desperate—he finally shook his head. Slowly. Coldly. Without explanation.
Reina’s world crumbled. She closed her eyes and slumped forward, her expression falling. Her thoughts spiraled—was Adit still lost in that forest? Or worse… captured by Theo’s people? Or… not alive?
“We shouldn’t have run into that cursed forest. Maybe it was the Somo Stone that…” she muttered, shaking her head repeatedly, pressing her fingers harshly to her temples.
Suddenly, Bhirendra’s hand reached out and stopped her movements. His grip was strong but not rough.
“You know the Somo Stone?”
His voice was serious. For the first time, Bhirendra asked more than a sentence—and he seemed genuinely intrigued.
Reina nodded slowly. “I don’t know much, but… I’m familiar. Grandpa Upa used to say… the Somo Stone is the Earth’s anchor, something that must never be moved from its place under any circumstances. It’s the foundation of the world…”
Bhirendra didn’t blink. His body instinctively leaned toward Reina, as if trying to absorb every word. “Do you know where the stone is now?”
“No,” Reina answered quickly, then paused. “But… I think I felt its energy. When I entered this world.”
Bhirendra frowned, his thoughts racing. His gaze shifted—this time carrying a different tension. Not threat, but confusion.
He stared at her for a moment, as if about to ask something but unsure how.
“What?” Reina asked nervously. “Just say it. Stop staring like that.”
Bhirendra’s expression shifted—unlike his usual impassive stone face. Finally, he took a breath and spoke quietly, “Close your eyes. Don’t open them until I say so.”
Reina hesitated, wanting to ask why, but Bhirendra had returned to his cold, authoritative self. She sighed and obeyed, slowly shutting her eyes.
A few seconds passed, then she felt it—a warm touch on her forehead.
Reina jolted as she realized Bhirendra’s forehead was pressed against hers. She almost pulled back, but his large hand gently but firmly held her neck in place.
Her heart pounded. His warm breath brushed her skin. They were only inches apart.
But Bhirendra was lost in deep focus—diving into Reina’s subconscious. He tried to reach the core of her awareness, searching for clues, traces, or energy resonance that might connect to the Somo Stone.
What he found instead… was a barrier. Layers of complex magical protection, unnatural and old. As if Reina’s mind had been locked away by an ancient spell—one he didn’t recognize. It was impossible to go any further.
At last, Bhirendra pulled away. He looked at Reina with an unreadable expression—a mix of curiosity, frustration, and a subtle worry.
“You…” he said softly, “…prepare yourself. Tomorrow morning, you’re coming with me.”
Reina’s mouth fell open. “What? Where?”
But Bhirendra was already standing. Without answering, he turned and walked out of the tent—his steps firm and unwavering.
Reina sat frozen. The night felt colder. Confusion and frustration danced in her chest, swirling into the quiet rhythm of despair.