The Chronicle Of Jawata (Compilation Trial Edition)

4.36.

The whirling wind welcomed Radhit's anxiety. Behind the palace gate, his footsteps on the stone floor are engraved with various symbolic myths and past stories that have been heard during his stay in Graha Kaninggaluh.

It is rare to miss to notice the carved floors each time treading on a cold floor composed of circular black marble plots with carved textures of winged animals, dwarfs, and people, and the figure of Buto.

The marble floor was as old as the Shradava Palace. It was there when the palace was built. I don't know when it happened, which was obvious since he was born, the floor was already like this.

A group of young women wandered in the courtyard, following the direction of the elder dancers who seemed to belong to the local people and nobles, accompanied the music of a type of silver lute.

The singing of the Ancient Verse blends in a soft rhythm, creating a beautiful nuance mingling different cultures, at times served when there is a palace banquet.

On the other side of the court, the middle-aged teachers in hermit clothes with white beards were unraveling to the chest, facing the rows of bare-chested disciples, equally cross-legged in the midst of the crowd of bald young disciples. They sat down neatly, forming a circular row. When Radhit passed by, they didn't seem distracted. It seemed that they were very centered by the teachings of the teachers back then.

A few young warriors not far from Radhit's age, flashed on the other side of the courtyard. They carried assembly weapons, arrows, wooden spears, and a small trident.

It also appears that the young warrior disciples were following the chairman, going in and out of the palace area. They carried a set of arrows complete with bows, as well as spears higher than their bodies.

In front of the group of young soldiers, a senior soldier, was herding towards the outside of the palace gate. The hunting season is on schedule these days after a regular training period they do every weekend.

One passageway entered without guards, on it was plastered with white horse-carved boards. One place Radhit's destination was already visible at the end of the eye.

East Sinloka. One place is bordered by stone walls built high where the door is without bars and guards. Usually the palace residents use this place as a family meeting area or agreement of the palace relatives and padepokan. Inside were several small domes of nyiur leaves.

Among the domes, the roof is stretched and some are budding. There is a towing rope that controls the roofs to keep them stretched or budged.

Wawena, that's what the domes in East Sinloka call. Like Cambodia lying face down and looking down. Anyone leaning in the shade of Wawena will feel cool and beautiful.

In one Wawena among them, a student in the same uniform as Radhit. The student was pensive. I don't know what he was thinking while staring at the bright sky.

His gaze was momentarily fixed on the ground, then turned to the surrounding foliage he touched. His hand grasped a dozen flutes that were played dancing around his fingers. Radhit knew exactly who the student was.

"Poor Singh...."

Radhit said softly while his eyes had not yet moved from a student with a silent flute. Radhit recognized the young man his age as seen from the direction he walked.

Radhit did not flinch as he watched a relative of his parapokan. His murmur was greeted by a voice that allegedly came from behind. A soft voice as his warm breath touched Radhit's nape.

"You are a son of a Muarralintang, will not be discouraged in the face of such a situation."

A voice shocked Radhit. He turned slowly to the source of the voice, suddenly someone was present behind him. Radhit knew who was currently hugging him from behind.

The woman was graceful and smelled the fragrance of the white robe she was wearing. Slowly Radhit stared at him to the face of the person looking back at him gently.

A beautiful woman without a loop in her hair, without any skewers of makeup and makeup. Allowed her long hair to unravel to the waistline. Her lips were like a ravenous hue of pomegranate, smiling gently welcoming Radhit's glare implied gloomily.

The woman hugged Radhit tightly. Radhit looked back at the look on the woman's face carefully.

"How are you, my beloved son?"

"Are you still mad at me for not seeing me?" Ask the woman none other than Radhit's mother.

"There may be a protracted Ananda angry at Mother who is beautiful like an angel," replied Radhit reciprocating the embrace of her beloved mother, throwing a seducing praise. His mother smiled happily to get a sweet treatment from her only favorite son.

Look at the woman's eyes turned to look at Radhit fixedly, her smile even more glazed without leaving the slightest anxiety. But Radhit replied with a look emanated an annoyed mingle sad, could not be hidden from his way of staring.

"Stand here, son..," his mother asked. For a moment they leaned under Wawena they were the biggest around the place.

Radhit had not been in the lap of the Mother for a long time. Two years ago, the last time he spoiled like that.

"I've prepared a letter for you. This will, then bring it and give it to a crew of the Ark of Surra," said Mother began to speak serus.

"That guy's the only one I know from across the street."

"He'll be on the coast in a few months. This letter asks for his availability to take you to the Sanoora peninsula," continued Mother.

"Come there...,"

"Sanoora?" Not yet after his mother spoke, Radhit interrupted first. He rose from the lap of his mother.

"What's Ananda going there for?!" radhit asked in astonishment, looking fixedly at his mother.

"If anything happens to me, that's where you're going."

"Mother wishes there was a better life for you than to go on with remembering all the events that were so bad for you, son...,"

Look at the eyes of the mother who was originally as tough as a coral, began to glaze as thin as a cold mist.

Piercing worry accompanied by a vibrating tone of voice, the mother continued her sentence.

"Mother doesn't want you to experience sadness like her...."

Radhit looked at his mother's gaze glimpsed at the student with his equally silent flute. Sitting there for a long time. Under the most secluded Wawena.

His mother's gaze returned with bitter tears.

"Please promise me that you will leave this country after what happens to me!" a little stern, her mother was still crying and quickly wiped away the tears that flowed down her cheeks.

"It's about the execution?" Radhit recalled the bad fate that befell his family several forwards had already been determined.

Between nightmares and horrible reality. Until now, he did not understand what was going on so his mother said so.

"I was so scared..," Radhit looked worriedly confused face.

"Mother said to me, everything will be fine," Radhit began to tear up.

While occasionally looking in the direction where a disciple was fluttering was still pensive there. The bamboo flute in his hand had long since been silent. Just like his master.

Look into the eyes of the young man there, staring blankly without a soul.

Life was no longer visible from his living body. It is like a body wafting without a sound, while its heart may be turbulent and burning with anger.

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