The expanse of rice fields had now completely transformed into jungle. Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the jungle canopy, creating a mosaic of light and shadow on the ground. The air, once humid and warm, now felt cooler and filled with the scent of wet earth and leaves.
Besides the banana trees whose torn leaves swayed in the wind, the ferns which were as tall as an adult, the banyan trees, and the damar trees, the remaining trees there were mysteries to Lestari. Perhaps those had become extinct in modern era, or perhaps she simply didn't know, as her village was actually quite modern. Those trees towered tall, with trunks as wide as two or three adult men lined up. Their roots, protruding from the ground like muscles of the earth, were covered in thick green moss.
The jungle symphony was dominated by the sounds of insects. Lestari could identify the ngeng ngeng ngeng ngeng collective chirping of cicadas and the crickling crickling crickling of crickets, which sometimes stopped in unison as the heavy footsteps of the elephant shook the earth. However, in a matter of seconds, a single cricket would start chirping again, soon followed by its flock.
From behind the dense trees, the birds also seemed unwilling to be outdone in their singing competition. There was the constant tok tok tok tok of the Takur birds carving their homes. There was also the mysterious, echoing ngong ngong ngong whistle of the Tuwu birds. Occasionally, a shrill, wi wik wi wik could be heard, which Lestari couldn't quite place. It came from an eagle flying above the forest canopy.
There was also the sound of the jungle itself. The rustling of branches and leaves in the wind, as if the trees were whispering to each other.
Behind the noisy orchestra of insects and birds, the soft trickle of water could be heard, coming from a small, flowing stream. The mahout was still calmly spurring the elephant along the path parallel to the stream, as if the stream were guiding them to a hidden place in the jungle.
The symphony didn't sound unfamiliar to Lestari's ears, instead it triggered a wave of nostalgia that squeezed her chest.
Lestari closed her eyes. She remembered her childhood. Back then, before housing developments occupied the rice paddies and light pollution swallowed the stars, the evening atmosphere in her village was exactly like that. However, as she grew older, one by one, the members of nature's orchestra withdrew. The shrill chirping of cicadas was slowly replaced by the roar of motorcycle exhausts. The Takur birds no longer tapped on wood behind her house, replaced by the sound of engines leveling gardens and rice paddies. Then, the calls of Tuwu birds, which was used to give her goosebumps, hadn't visited her ears for years.
Lestari didn't know how long she'd been lost in nostalgia, but the frequency of the jungle orchestra that had filled every corner of her ears had now begun to fade, as if the jungle were whispering goodbye. The green canopy also began to part, and expanses of rice paddies came into view on both sides of the road, although the plots weren't as expansive as the rice paddies in the previous village.
It turned out that the sun still hung high in the sky, though its rays were no longer as intense as before her departure. Its rays were now a warm, soft golden yellow. This kind of glow, in modern times, is a typical three o'clock in the evening atmosphere.
Human life began to show its traces through the thriving vegetable gardens. The trees there were also more familiar to Lestari's eyes. She recognized rows of coconut trees whose leaves swayed in the breeze, sugar palms with their rough trunks, and jackfruits with their large, yellowing fruits hanging low. There were also betel nut trees that reminded Lestari of her grandmother, who loved chewing betel nut and often instructed her to pick up fallen betel nuts.
A small temple across the river came into view.
Sensing their destination was within sight, the mahout pulled on the reins, ordering the giant beast to slow down. Despite its small size, the temple was surprisingly crowded. In its courtyard, men and women, from the oldest with their hunched backs to the usually lively children, sat cross-legged in remarkable order. They formed small circles, surrounding the hermit, who sat cross-legged and leaned against the trunk of a banyan tree. The group wasn't just one, perhaps as many as ten.
They were so focused, it was as if the world outside their group had ceased to exist. Even the galloping of the horses and the elephant Lestari rode when the mahout stopped it across the temple didn't make them turn their heads or utter the curious whispers that usually emerge when seeing members of the royal family.
The river was the limit of travel for Lestari's group's mounts. The small wooden bridge across it seemed too flimsy to support their weight.
The mahout deftly jumped off the elephant's neck. Uncontrolled by Lestari, her body began to descend as well. Seeing the Crown Princess set foot on the ground, Bandung Bandawasa, Ceking, and Maiden Kuning immediately dismounted.
Lestari didn't immediately step forward. She stood still, waiting for the mahout, Ceking, and Bandung Bandawasa to tether their mounts under the shade of banyan trees.
Once the mounts were safely parked, the mahout walked forward to lead the way. Lestari began to follow behind him. Behind Lestari, Maiden Kuning followed obediently. Bandung Bandawasa and Ceking followed, closing the line.
When they reached the courtyard, one of the sages finally stopped what he was doing and walked over to Lestari's group. The sage looked very young, perhaps in his early twenties. His face was distinctly Southeast Asian, not Indian.
The young sage stood before them with a composed demeanor. His calm gaze swept over each member of the group, starting with the mahout, Lestari, Maiden Kuning, Bandung Bandawasa, and Ceking, before finally returning his gaze to Lestari.
"Swasti," the young sage greeted. He bowed slightly, offering a modest salute. "Hana tujwan apa kita maring patapan iki?" he continued.
[Translation: May you be good. What is your purpose for coming to this hermitage?].
"Rajakumari Baka ta ingong. Kumonaken ingong maring patapan iki manih dening Rajapitri, gawe sinahu Rajasastra," Lestari replied.
[Translation: I am Crown Princess Baka. I was ordered to return to this hermitage by the Royal Father to study politics and statesmanship.].
The young sage smiled. He bowed again, but this time lower, as a formal sign of respect for Lestari's position.
"Swasti, Rajakumari. Sampurakna kalancangan ingong. Panaranngong Bawal. Salah sawijining manguyu ing patapan iki. Tulung atutana ingong maring Maharesi."
[Translation: May you be good, Crown Princess. Forgive my impudence. My name is Bawal. I am one of the senior students at this hermitage. Please follow me to the Great Sage.].
Sage Bawal raised his head again. His hands remained clasped in a respectful position in front of his chest, and his serene smile remained on his serene face.
Lestari nodded once. "Swasti. Nora apa-apa, Resi Bawal. Dalan ni tulung tuduhna, atarima sih," she replied.
[Translation: May you be good. It's okay, Resi Bawal. Please show me the way, thank you.] .
Sage Bawal turned and began walking toward a path that cut through the northern area of the temple. The surface was paved with arranged river stones. Lestari and her group quickly followed. To the right and left of the path were rows of huts too small, only wide enough for one or two people to lie down.
'There's no gate either. This village is so poor,' Lestari thought.
Between the huts grew tall rontal trees with straight, rough trunks. Their leaves were large, fan-shaped, and their fruit was round, black.
As they advanced into the hermitage complex, the small huts began to give way to more suitable buildings. They were larger, perhaps large enough to accommodate five people lying down.
Shortly afterward, Sage Bawal stopped in front of the largest building among the others. It was no longer a hut, but a house with a clean porch, indicating that its occupant held a respected position within the hermitage.
Sage Bawal turned around, returned to his usual state before looked at Lestari and said, "Rajakumari, tulung anteni."
[Translation: Crown Princess, please wait.].
Sage Bawal climbed the steps of the stilt house and entered through the slightly ajar door.