The Chronicle Of Jawata (Compilation Trial Edition)

4.47.

“The Princess is healing soon because there will be someone to help her,” replied Purwa. Hearing this, Taja was silent for a while thinking about the interpretation of Purwa's dream.

“You must be making it up,” Taja is not sure Purwa's words really mean it.

Purwa so pouting, “You are the same as the others! They are always sober whenever I interpret a poem.Well why do you want me to tell it? Go to your place..I want to sleep!” Purwa's burglars pulled out the thick blanket.

“Sssst...don't be noisy! You can make the others wake up. Sorry, I don't mean to underestimate you.just not sure if you're really dreaming that way. Is it true that the dream is related to the Princess?”

“So you don't believe it?” Purwa opened the blanket that covered his face.

“Not so, I just feel ...”

“Taste what?”

“I feel ... related to the poem in your dream?”

“Hmm, so ... could be you doer in the poem,“Purwa thinks the same.

“What? Perpetrator?” Taja.

“Yes, that is..,” Purwa scratched his head, his frown was gone.

“This is the meeting of the little goose and the child of doom.. So...if the little goose is Princess Alingga, is it possible that the child of calamity is me, so you mean?”

“I did not say so, but..in the dream.I also saw a boy like you. It's similar! Even I have seen directly with my own eyes once in my life,“ Purwa recalls the events that he himself forgot to do either, it has been too long.

”At that time.because I was late back after bathing, I took a detour through the back palace garden. An absurd coincidence, as I was passing through the lake in the area, something was moving very fast, gushing into the lush bushes. Then he pummeled his head and stood towards me. At first glance he looked at me too, probably because I had caught him. I don't know what he was doing at the time. I only know his face from the city billboards who call him a fugitive Jawata.”

“Then?”

Both of Purwa's eyeballs seemed to imagine to the time that was going on at that time, “Of course I became shaky, especially after being convinced that he was really the fugitive in question…I thought he was going to kill me like some people think that that kid is a Killer Devil. But it turns out not, he even plunged into the lake.”

“Who is he, Purwa? how's the features?” ask Taja again. But Purwa was silent, unwilling to say further.

“Say, Purwa!” Taja wiggled the hand grips of the smallest child among his peers.

Purwa shook his head quickly, actually not that he did not know but was reluctant to say it.

“Why? are you scared?” It's just wonder to see it.

“He is dead. I dare not mention his name because his death was so terrible,” Purwa replied inching in his blanket back.

Purwa shook his head again, “Not. Because it was executed at Tanapura.”

Taja stunned, his eyes narrowed tensely, “Execution in Tanapura?”

“That's enough. Now go back to your place, I want to sleep!” purwa's voice was depressed in the throat.

“Wait, you'll know his name! Tell me who is he?” Taja tightened Purwa blanket.

“No want!” Purwa quickly pulled the blanket over, his body coiled and turned his back on Taja unless his two legs were raised.

Taja is not that easy to give up, want to insist that Purwa say it, “Come say, Purwa! Just say his name once, then I'll let you sleep.or I'll tickle your feet until morning.“.

Purwa wriggled amusedly as Taja's fingers crept from the soles of the feet to the calves, “Good...well....well, I'll just write it!”He finally complied. He immediately grabbed him by a piece of paper and a pen from the feather of a bird on the table beside the bed.

“Any...why are you so curious? As long as you know.the curiosity is not good, it will only plunge you..” babble the boy while writing something he on paper.

“Now I want to sleep, don't bother me anymore or.I'll scream. Good night late!” purwa said before summarizing the paper into 4 folds and thrusting it on Taja. Then he fell back on a soft mattress and pulled with a blanket tightly.

Return to where he lay.

The atmosphere was very quiet, he was alone who was still opening his eyes. Under the dim light a number of lanterns were the only nightly illumination in the room, the folding of a piece of paper in the hand, and something was inscribed from the handwriting of the Purwa.

Taja did not blink, momentarily gasped as he read the short piece of writing.

’TAJURA’

He suddenly recalled the fame of the name of someone he had never known at all, but always seemed to be closely related to. The name was also what had made him and his two friends ’terdampar’ in Tanapura, even repeatedly brought them on a lot of difficulties.

He mused in the evening, each time wondering to himself about the connection between him and Tajura which is often touted by many as Anaka Malapaka. There have been many nights spent thinking about the figure of the owner of the name, making Taja more and more concerned in his own questions, about how similar he is to him or just a coincidence, but there was no clarity as an answer to all that other than the 12 o'clock poem reverberated and stopped his reflection.

’Satria mute murdered moon dead

The king laughed, tears of blood and a red face

Time for the Rat to sing!’

The sound of the clapper was struck twice.

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