The morning fog draped Kota Serunai (Serunai City) like a wet silk veil. Lanterns from the night before still floated among the wooden stilts of the harbor, their faint light reflecting in broken puddles. The air smelled of salt, wet timber, and smoldering fuel from the destroyed Grand Lingqi Furnace.
Hai Cheng walked along the Pelabuhan Tua (Old Harbor), the jade beads of his Suanpan (abacus) clicking faintly in rhythm with the waves. Each bead hummed softly—a pulse of currents still unsettled after last night's catastrophe.
"Disaster brings attention," a soft voice said from the shadows.
Hai Cheng turned sharply. A young woman stepped from the mist, her feet barely touching the wet planks. Her attire shimmered with patterns that mirrored Batik Lingkar (Batik Arrays), spiraling across fabric like ocean swirls. Her dark hair was partially pinned with a golden sanggul (hair ornament), etched with tiny interwoven Peranakan tiles.
"I'm Yue Lan," she said, bowing slightly. "Protector of the Arus Alam (Natural Current)."
Hai Cheng studied her carefully. There was no fear, only calm focus. "The currents are fragmented," he said. "The Harimau Ombak (Tide Tiger) nearly struck the docks. The furnace—someone deliberately breached the Arus Dagang (Trade Current)."
Yue Lan's eyes flickered toward the horizon, where the first faint tendrils of foam curled unnaturally along the channel. "It is not just the Arus Dagang," she said. "The Hukum Ombak (Law of the Tides) itself is bruised. Someone—or something—forces the currents to fracture."
Hai Cheng felt the vibration beneath his feet. Something moved below, unseen. "The Admiral," he murmured. "He intends to manipulate the currents."
Yue Lan's lips pressed into a thin line. "Then we must awaken the Orang Selindung (Veiled Folk)."
Hai Cheng frowned. The Orang Selindung were legends—protectors of forgotten Perjanjian Selat (Strait Covenants). They rarely intervened in human affairs. "And if they refuse?"
"Then the sea will act without them," Yue Lan said, stepping closer. Her hand brushed against his arm, but instead of warmth, it carried a subtle vibration—a faint pulse of Arus Alam. The currents spoke through her touch, whispering warnings and old secrets.
A sudden roar echoed across the mist. Hai Cheng barely registered it before the Harimau Ombak (Tide Tiger) materialized from the foam again, its stripes fracturing into luminous batik patterns as it prowled closer to the harbor.
Yue Lan leapt onto the edge of the dock, spinning a glowing Lingqi Array in her hands. The array shimmered turquoise and gold, flowing like water. "Focus, Hai Cheng!" she shouted.
He clenched the jade Suanpan (abacus) and felt the Arus Dagang (Trade Current) align with the Lingqi patterns. Together, they formed a hybrid stream of Arus Warisan (Heritage Current).
The Harimau Ombak paused mid-leap. Its spectral claws hovered inches above the wood. Hai Cheng's pulse synchronized with Yue Lan's array, and the tiger's energy quivered like a tide held in a net.
Then a third presence announced itself. From the shadows between the stilts, figures emerged—hooded and silent. The Orang Selindung (Veiled Folk). Their eyes glowed faintly green beneath the hoods, reflecting the fractured currents.
One stepped forward. "The currents have been violated," the voice said, low and reverberating. "This intrusion threatens balance. You, Hai Cheng, are the one chosen to listen."
Hai Cheng's fingers tightened around the Suanpan. "Listen? I can stabilize the Arus Dagang—but control it? Never. Not entirely."
The Orang Selindung motioned to Yue Lan. "And you, protector of Arus Alam, must teach him the ways the currents speak beyond calculation. Only together can the Perjanjian Selat (Strait Covenant) remain intact."
The Harimau Ombak's glowing stripes pulsated faster, sensing the new presence. Hai Cheng inhaled deeply, letting the currents ripple through him. He felt Arus Dagang (Trade Current), Arus Alam (Natural Current), and faintly—like a heartbeat beneath the waves—the hidden Arus Warisan (Heritage Current).
It was alive. And angry.
"Then we start," Yue Lan whispered.
Hai Cheng nodded. The battle was not over. It had only just begun.
Above them, the mist lifted slightly. Lanterns reflected in the water like scattered stars. The city waited, unaware that a storm of currents and guardians had just begun brewing beneath the surface.
And far below, in the depths of the strait, coils of ancient energy shifted. Not in rage—but in recognition.
The Lingqi Sea had remembered its listeners.