• The Heir of the Rahwana GateDusk in the Hidden Dojo

Dusk cloaked the horizon behind the Anjasmara mountain trees. The sounds of nature sang softly birdsong, the rustling wind, the whispers of leaves as if inviting someone to walk the secret path.

In a hidden stone dojo, carved with images of monkey spirits and mountain crests, Aji Saka stood tall beside Mpu Reksabanyu. The seven-year-old's eyes blazed; though young, his resolve pulsed faster than his heartbeat.

"Listen closely, Aji," said the old master. "The Rahwana Gate is not just martial arts. It's the path that cleaves reality and illusion, allowing you to see what others cannot."

The master raised his hand, revealing an ancient glowing symbol etched into the dojo wall. It slowly rotated, emitting a soft blue aura.

"This… is the Rahwana Gate," he whispered. "The gate between truth and deception. A lost knowledge, erased from all the academy's records. Now, only you shall inherit it."

Aji stared at the symbol, curiosity flickering in his gaze. "What's the danger, Master?"

"If you're unready, your own shadow may kill you. Or trap your soul so deep you forget who you truly are."

Phase One: Soul Cleansing

For the first week, Aji didn't learn how to strike or defend. He was only instructed to stand in the center of the dojo, his gaze vacant, listening to the rhythm of his own heartbeat. Whenever his shadow shifted stretching, twisting, breaking he had to remain still and keep watching.

Mpu Reksabanyu observed him sharply. "That's the illusion of your soul. And you must become aware of it. When the illusion shatters, you'll begin to see what lies beneath."

On the third night, Aji flinched as he watched his shadow it grew massive, bleeding, weeping. His knees buckled.

"Good," said the master. "You've seen your fear. Now you must feel its tears… instead of running."

With trembling resolve, Aji obeyed. He allowed the shadow to weep, and didn't turn away. Almost entranced, he felt warm tears run down his cheeks not from physical pain, but from wounds of the soul.

When morning came, Aji stood taller. A small but crucial step.

Phase Two: Energy Binding

In the second week, Mpu taught Aji to feel and channel the energy of nature through stone, roots, and the spring waters near the dojo. Aji touched basalt rock, ancient tree roots, and mountain water.

"They are all part of You," said the master, touching Aji's shoulder. "Energy connects all you just have to recognize it."

Closing his eyes, Aji felt the heartbeat of the earth align with his own. A soft vibration echoed through him, like the rhythm of a forest hammer. When he exhaled slowly and envisioned the energy flowing to his fingertips, a distant leaf trembled and fell.

He smiled. It was the first time he felt power not from his dagger, but from within.

Phase Three: Physical Training and Secret Techniques

Training moved to a sealed chamber an arena within the cavern below the dojo. Aji practiced classical Majapahit martial arts, mimicking his father's movements, combined with secret hand formations from ancient palm-leaf manuscripts.

Mpu Reksabanyu taught him the key technique: Sindika Gate a movement that used his body's energy to pierce through physical and illusionary barriers.

The first time he performed it, a rock wall behind a glass bottle shattered. Aji was stunned then proud.

"You are ready," said Mpu. "But not complete."

The First Challenge Outside

On the tenth night, Mpu led Aji out of the cave. Moonlight glimmered in four beams as they walked along a spice-scented river to a nearby village. There, Aji witnessed the manipulation of academy agents: a poor man writhed under a spell, while a passing academy guard collapsed asleep.

Mpu turned to him. "Remember, you will not confront them. You will observe."

Aji nodded silently.

As they entered the village, Aji saw agents in grey cloaks quietly registering residents into thick ledgers. Dark magic, propaganda, forced belief it was all real.

He spotted a little girl sobbing beside her mother outside their home. The mother held her tightly out of illness, or fear of the list.

Aji quietly approached. The image stirred a memory of his own mother. Instinctively, he raised his hand. A soft aura emanated from his body, gently dissolving the negative energy around the woman and child.

Their faces brightened with surprise, then softened into smiles. Before they could speak, Aji and Mpu had vanished into the night.

Back at the Cave

That night, a small fire flickered in the cave. Mpu studied Aji intently.

"You've seen the outside world," he said. "You've touched another's soul. That means you are not only strong. You are a bridge."

Aji swallowed hard. He felt the weight of responsibility both thrilling and frightening. His steps were no longer mere practice.

"How much longer, Master?" he asked quietly. "Until I can enter the academy?"

Mpu closed his eyes. "Two things. You must pass the three stages. And… you must receive the summons."

"A letter from the academy?" Aji furrowed his brow.

"Yes. That's what we'll craft. You, representing the Macapat bloodline Majapahit. You will receive it, not out of obedience. But because the world sees your potential…"

The master unrolled a thin scroll. "This is the original design of the Nusantara Academy's entry letter modified with a hidden code."

Aji saw the symbol etched on it. A small mark—resembling the Rahwana Gate.

"When you present this… they'll think you're an ordinary child. But you will carry our legacy to the heart of the world."

Aji nodded firmly. The soft chime of hidden metal echoed beneath his robe.

That night, Aji said little. He sat in thought, preparing for what came next: the letter. The academy. The world beyond where his family's murder still echoed in secret and manipulation.

Dusk at the Cave Entrance

Two days later, as the sun dipped, Aji and Mpu stood at the mouth of the cave. There stood a young man with silver hair, sharp eyes, and a gleaming bow a secret agent of the master.

"Everything is ready," he said. "Supplies, the letter, identity, cover."

Aji turned to face him, his expression steady.

The silver-haired youth handed him a sealed package three crests marked it: one of the Nusantara Academy, and another of the Rahwana Gate.

Aji clutched it tightly. As if holding a new world and an immense burden.

Mpu placed a hand on his shoulder. "Go, Aji Saka. Be the heir of a forgotten gate. Be the bearer of truth."

Aji looked down the winding path toward the village. The wind stirred his brow, but his voice was clear:

"I am ready."

To Panularan Village

Aji's first step was Panularan Village the place where the Nusantara Academy held its entrance trials. There, all candidates would gather and be tested in three trials: Legacy, Reason, and Loyalty.

Aji knew… he had to win. Not just to enter. But to protect the hope that now lived in his name.

To be continued...