Morning arrived in Jayakarsa City, accompanied by the sounds of life.
Merchants prepared their stalls, cart wheels rattled along the stone roads, and the aroma of warm food filled the air. The atmosphere felt very different from when Gatot was still a child living in Wanasura Village.
Inside a simple yet tidy house, a family sat together enjoying breakfast.
At the dining table, Gatot sat in front of a plate of warm rice and beef. He ate slowly, without saying much. Not far from the table, his parents were already speaking.
"Gatot, we've heard that you've been a bit lazy during your archery and sword training." his mother said. "Your father and I want you to take this more seriously. It's for your own good."
"Your father worked very hard to bring our family to this city," she continued.
"This opportunity to achieve something in this city won't come twice," his father added.
The words entered his ears, and passed right through. In one ear, out the other.
Gatot continued eating calmly. "Yeah," he replied shortly, unwilling to engage further.
More and more words poured into his ears.
"If you become a great knight, you'll have a chance to be chosen by the Sky Gods as a Dharma. Our family's status could rise, so you need to be more ambitious, Gatot…"
Gatot kept chewing slowly, his gaze empty, like someone lacking motivation. When he was younger, he once dreamed of that, become a Dharma and protect the world.
He still remembered his days in Wanasura Village, talking with Sancaka about that same dream.
"I'm full," Gatot said, then stood up from his chair. He moved quickly, avoiding any more words directed at him.
Outside, Jayakarsa City was already bustling. Gatot walked lightly, but his mind felt heavy. He looked around, a tall buildings, crowded streets, and countless unfamiliar faces passing by.
"I just want to live a normal life." Gatot murmured softly to himself.
He never truly wanted to become a Dharma. He imagined a simpler life,
being a merchant like his parents, or a farmer like most people in the village. A quiet life, without the pressure of becoming "something great." But his family had other plans. They wanted him to become a knight, and from there, perhaps be chosen as a Dharma.
His steps stopped in front of a watchtower. The tower stood firmly, facing outward from the city, a post for archers on guard duty. Gatot prepared his bow. Archery was his natural talent. At the top of the tower, the morning wind greeted him. From that height, he could see the forest, and the road leading out of the city—toward a wider world.
As he focused on the view while holding the bowstring, his thoughts drifted into the past. Wanasura Village came to his mind, and the friends he once had there.
"Sancaka." The name slipped quietly from his lips. "I wonder how you're doing now… I hope someday we can meet again." Gatot kept his gaze fixed on the horizon.