The Musafir
Throw Light
THEY CONTINUE THEIR JOURNEY. The hallway was getting smaller, they had to duck down to keep walking. The heart of the Northern River Angel behind him was pounding strongly, he was sweating coldly, the narrow room felt himself trapped. If only he did not catch his breath and regulate himself, he would probably scream loudly and run like crazy.
Mantingan was already used to the narrow room like this hallway. For three years he lived in a cave. The rock seems to have become his best friend. And the darkness was no longer frightening to him.
“Mantingan, can I take off my veil and robe?”
Mantingan glanced back for a moment and laughed. “Here no one else sees you but me. Except spiders and animals in the dark.”
The North River's Angel. “Don't scare me like that, you know I don't like darkness and tight spaces.
Again the laughing mantis. “I have no intention of scaring you, sorry if you feel scared because of me.”
The North River Angel slightly hummed while removing the veil. He took a deep breath to enjoy the stuffy and humid air of the cave. Suddenly, he felt anxious again.
“Until when do we walk in here, Mantingan?”
The mantel takes time to reply. It was not easy to estimate how long they had encountered the end of this long passageway. There is even a slight risk of them getting lost and trapped.
“For now, I don't know for sure. Maybe about a day or two. But in a cave like this, we can forget time because there is no sunlight.”
The look on the face of the Northern River Angel changed. “Why do we only bring one torch?”
The mantle widened his eyes. He had forgotten to take that into account. If the oil and the cotton of the torch had run out, then the darkness would have preyed on them. It was dangerous, without light, it was not impossible for a savage beast to attack them.
“Then how?” ask the Angel of the North River again.
Once more. Again the mantel takes time to answer. It has no wood, nor does it have cotton. If only Mantingan could use a cloth shirt as a substitute for cotton, then it must have done. Where can oil and wood be obtained from? Inside this rocky passageway, there are almost no living plants, except for tiny root fibers that are rarely seen. It's small, rarely seen anyway, that's what's troublesome.
Until somehow Mantingan get inspired, which is completely unexpected by him. He remembered that the magician could create his own spell. Although it is very difficult and the success rate is small, Mantingan will still work. This is the only hope; making light incantations.
Mantingan decided to stop and sit down, he also asked the North River Angel to take a short break and be free to do anything as long as it does no harm. Of course the North River Angel does not move to another place other than to the side of Mantingan.
Mantingan took out an empty piece of Magic Throw, he took out a palm engraver neatly wrapped in dried palm leaves— to not be damaged. The mantan begins the experiment, by compiling words resembling incantations in the Pallawa script. The North River Angel noticed it.
***
Dozens of lines of sentences had been created, none of which cast a magic impact. The mantle began to fret because the torch began to show signs of lack of good: the fire exploded slowly, swaying in the absence of wind, the light began to dim. While the light spell has not yet been created.
Such moments, the Northern River Angel tried to cheer up. “You are good at composing words beautifully, Mantingan, even if your writing is a bit messy.”
The mantle scratched his head that was not itchy. A messy writing is his trademark. It was a mess because he wrote often. Before Mantingan started writing his travel story, his writing was not as messy as this. Mantingan smiled for a moment before returning to writing the script.
The giver of life
O sunshine
Come up and give light
The Magic Throw that Mantang finished engraving lines of characters began to show signs. Spirited mantle is not playing when slowly for the sake of slowly carving the action fused with the body of Lontar Magic—that's the signs if the spell was successfully made. But not all characters have joined, the movement has stopped. The mantan showed a disappointed look on his face as he looked back at his Magic Throw.
The second line of sentences is a set of characters that do not fuse with the body of the Magic Throw. The Mantingan. Something is wrong. The mantain knows that. Something is wrong with the second line. Not wrong in writing, but wrong in the sense contained.
The giver of life
O sunshine ....
That's where the error lies. It is not the sunshine that gives life. She's not. But He. The Gusti. Even if the sun with its rays grows trees, but the question is who created the sun.
Wrestling. Who arranged everything carefully. The universe is organized by His permission. And the chaotic universe by His permission. He created the sun, the moon, and everything that hangs in the sky. None escaped His sight, not even a leaf. He is the Lifeguard. Not sun.
The mantle takes the empty new Magic Throw. He changed his words which meant right.
The Livener
The Light
O Gusti
The Ruler
Heaven and earth
Sun, moon, and stars
By his permission the light illuminates the ants at night
In the true sense or not in the true sense.
Magic ejection shows signs. The entire script merges with the ejection body simultaneously. Justjust wonderful. There is no spell that so quickly merges with its host, especially simultaneously.
The North River Angel looked at Mantingan with a look of disbelief. Magic is common in the land of Champa, magic in Champa is common to children's toys. So he knew very well how the magic spell made Mantan so quickly unification. But that was not all he admired, the greater his admiration for the sentence produced Mantingan.
“Mantingan, the sentence you wrote really ...” The Northern River Angel was unable to speak anymore.
The mantel shows his smile. “From yesterday I made the wrong sentence, now it's right. I'm sorry if I made you wait a long time.”
“What makes me rush inside this endless cave of silence?” The North River Angel was silent for a moment to prove the silence of the cave. The mantingan again scratched his non-itchy head and smiled awkwardly. “But, Mantingan, that sentence you wrote earlier is very, very impressive. You can look for fault points and fix them very quickly, I can hardly believe there is a magician swordsman who managed to create a spell inside a narrow cave like this.”
Indeed what the Angel of the North River said there is a point. Normally, a magician swordsman would go to a quiet place to create a new magic spell. That's just a lot that doesn't work. While the Spell, in the depressed condition like today can still create a new magic spell perfectly.
Which woman is not impressed?
