The Musafir
Ten Birds I've Came Singing
A large round piece of meat suddenly appeared. Directly filled the inn yard. Piled up to even his height had exceeded the roof of the inn.
Chitra Anggini. The surprise is not a trick. Never had he seen such a pile of flesh, even more so suddenly appeared without wind or rain, whether jungle!
“Thank you for saving myself that night,” Mantingan said after turning around and looking at the girl with a sincere smile. “My eyes are completely open. The martial world is in fact very vast. There are still many sky-level techniques that I have not learned, including moving objects from one place to another. I've learned it, and it's thanks to you.”
“How can ...” Chitra Anggini who still looked incredulous shook her head slowly. “Learning that style is not an easy thing, you have to be transformed into a black swordsman who is really deep black. Besides, it takes you a long time to master it. The warriors who attacked you at that time were over a hundred years old, they devoted their entire lives to mastering the style, even though it was not perfect in the end. In fact, my sister Kartika had given up on the style after a dozen years of studying it but found no results. How can you master it in just the blink of an eye?”
“Cannot explain to you. Too complicated, and probably not to be trusted at all.” The mantan smiled subtly while patting Chitra Anggini's open shoulder. “Now do what I have asked you. And one more request: meet Munding Caraka, make sure she's okay and say that I'm okay too. Buy some herbs. All my money's still on you, isn't it?”
“I still haven't got enough explanation about this successful style of yours, Mantingan.” Chitra Anggini did not answer that question. “Ingin also I mastered it.”
“Should I say that it will be very difficult for you to master it, Chitra,” Mantingan said reluctantly. “As you have said earlier, it will take a lifetime to be able to learn this style to an advanced level. With your current state, such a thing would really happenu.”
Chitra Anggini fell silent, before lowering his head and in the end nodded slowly. He said, “It is what makes you worthy of being a Sky Stakeholder. Now go back to the inn before it's too late.”
The mantan soon darted away, though it was well known to him that Chitra Anggini was still embittered and felt that his destiny was unjust.
Of course, Mantingan also cannot avoid that talented people will be much easier to reach the sky. However, not everyone is born gifted at something. Is it not in this injustice that everyone always tries to reach the heavens, no matter how futile their efforts may be?
The mantle continued to dart and dart. His feet stepped on the roofs of buildings to be able to bouncy to the roofs of other buildings. Himself like splitting the horizon all orange because drenched in twilight sun.
***
UPON arriving at the Thousand Cup Store, Mantingan was able to realize that the bird in the letter language and the cipher accent was not a bird in its true form.
The birds are sweet-talking comfort women who always come to the tavern every sun is about to sink to sing. When the sun has completely sunk, then they will stop singing, but still serve customers in the room.
The group of comfort women was named Ten Birds Kutilang Singing. Their voices are indeed as bright as the sound of finches, and their faces are as beautiful as finches. The beauty they bring has no antidote.
The ten women always managed to make all shop customers so captivated, so the Thousand Cup Store will always be quiet after they finished singing and began to sell themselves.
Mantingan did not wait in his room, he occupied one of the benches in the tavern for dinner. So when Ten Kutilang Singing began their show, only himself was still eating so voraciously, while all the visitors of the shop were watching in silence and carefully.
“How can he keep eating in front of these ten angels of heaven?”
“Only a madman can do that!”
“Ah, don't you see he's young? Certainly not feel the pleasure of romance.”
“Object him and hear the ten finches singing!”
Mantingan ignored the whispers of the visitors of the shop. If his stomach is hungry, he will eat. What do you care about the Ten Fruits Singing which is clearly not a bunch of fine women?
After all, this was a tavern, a place where everyone could eat as long as they could pay. No one could ban him from eating, even the shop owner's mother invited him with great pleasure. He said, “Maybe there's something wrong with your brain and your teacher's brain, but I've always liked your attitude. Eat with you in peace, I guarantee no one will bother you.”
Certainly at this time, the Mantingan wore a caping that had cast a shadow magic spell to disguise the appearance of his face. Really he can not guarantee that no patient who knows his face. Unless there is a swordsman who has a sharp hearing science at the level of Dew Drop Hearing Science that is able to translate sound into form, then no one should be able to recognize him as a Man Hero in that place.
The lute and the horn begin to sound. The Ten Birds of Fire were singing standing on the stage in a dim light. The shades of red. Dreary. The smell of jasmine rushes, inviting those who kiss her to imagine in a very beautiful way.
As the singing began to be sung, all the visitors of the tavern held their breath. So washed. Silence as a statue. Only Mantingan continued to devour his food. Care not to care.
This poem is left behind
on the muddy road
absolutely nothing that pays attention
but like pearls
for who finds
I feel lucky for a lifetime
A poem like a young man
the Hero Man
no one knows where he is
maybe in a shanty neighborhood
far from the word luxury
maybe in the jungle
far from civilization
No one knows what
but as bad as what place it stands
Hero Man is still a hero
it's still a pearl
in the dark of the mud of the streets though
so many people are now hunting him
The mantan continued to bribe food into his mouth, but his mind sank into contemplation. What poetry is left on the streets that tells about him? Or does the song itself contain only parables, so that the poetry in the mud of the streets never really existed?
The singing continued, with the fusion of the voices of the Ten Fruits Singing which could truly be said to be very beautiful.
Everyone is trying to have it
But even when an angel comes
Pick him up and offer him all the love
She refused
Mantingan stopped chewing for a moment to smile bitterly. In his mind, he strongly condemned the creator of the poem.
____
Note:
I hope, three chapters tonight can pay for my guilt for not updating over the past few days.
I also want to share at once asking. In the near future, my new brand called Walkround Adventure (WR Adventure) will issue a mobile phone case product edition of the Musafir.
I want to ask, anyone who is interested (not that it should buy it), because at the same time a market test.
I will allocate some sales profits to buy some illustrations of the Musafir, because a few days ago I saw a dissatisfied comment on the illustrations of figures I drew myself.
Thank you 🙏
