In a quiet backyard, Baskara sat cross-legged beneath the shade of a Kalaban tree. His body was drenched in sweat, his breath steady, but his eyes still burning with passion. That afternoon, the sunlight gently filtered through the leaves, creating a peaceful atmosphere that could only be felt at home.
Soon, the light footsteps of a woman could be heard approaching. She carried a tray with cold herbal drinks and bright, refreshing fruit slices. Her face was beautiful and graceful, with a smile as cool as morning dew. In her heart, the woman muttered softly, "Such a diligent child."
"Baskara, are you thirsty, dear?" she called gently as she got closer.
Hearing her voice, Baskara turned around with the excitement of a child who had just discovered his favorite toy. His smile widened, innocent and cheerful.
"Mommm!" he exclaimed happily.
Yes, the woman was his mother, Tirta. A mother with rare beauty, not only because of her looks but because of her sincerity and tenderness that never changed.
Tirta chuckled at the sight of her son. "Hahaha, just like always. Even though you're drenched in sweat, you're still full of energy. Sit down, Mom brought you a drink and Suo spiritual fruit so you can stay healthy and strong."
"Okay!" Baskara replied as he sat down again, his smile as wide as the morning sun. He took the drink and fruit with a dramatic expression.
"Wow! Mom is really the savior of this barren training field," he said exaggeratedly.
Tirta chuckled softly. "You're something else. Your training is serious, but your mouth never stops joking."
They sat side by side under the tree, the evening breeze gently blowing, carrying the scent of leaves and damp earth. While enjoying the Suo fruit, they began chatting about training and Baskara's future choices.
"Mom, I'm confused. I like training at home, but my friends say that if I join a martial arts school, I can learn more great techniques. But if I'm with you and Uncle, I can joke around and train while laughing."
Tirta looked at her son with loving eyes. "You're really unique. On the outside, you act serious like a warrior, but at home, you're like a little kid who doesn't want to be fed but still sulks if I don't pay attention to you."
They both burst out laughing. Amidst all the training and future choices, the little moments under the tree were the most precious—the moments where Baskara wasn't the future warrior, but just a child enjoying laughter with his mother.
The next day, Baskara sat cross-legged in the small study room of his family's house. In front of him lay an old book titled "Basics of Natural Energy and Spiritual Circulation." This book wasn't a secret manual or an advanced technique; it was a general book often used by the Semediawan family as basic reading material. Its content was more like an introduction to understanding martial arts and the relationship between humans and the spiritual powers of nature.
Page by page, Baskara read with furrowed brows and lips that sometimes puffed up in confusion. The book explained that many people on Earth could harness spiritual power through a special breathing technique called soul circulation. The deeper one mastered this breathing technique, the faster one could meditate. The better their martial arts, the greater their influence on both their body and their opponents in battle.
Of course, for a seven-year-old, all this explanation felt like reading song lyrics in a foreign language. Baskara understood in passing, but he couldn't picture it clearly. He slowly closed the book, stared at the ceiling, then suddenly jumped up and ran to the kitchen where his mother was preparing breakfast.
"Mooooom!" he shouted, dragging his book as if it were a piece of evidence.
Tirta, who was tasting the coconut root cake batter, turned around cautiously. "Oh my, Baskara. I just sat down and you're already yelling."
"Mom, Mom! So, if we take a slow, long breath and hold it for five counts, it can bring natural energy into our bodies, right? But why do I get hiccups when I do it?"
Tirta stared at her son for a few seconds before laughing softly. "You're getting hiccups because you drank cold water after training, not because of your breathing technique."
"But this book says breathing techniques are really important! If the technique is good, meditation becomes faster. So, why do I fall asleep when I meditate?"
Tirta shook her head slowly while handing him a glass of warm milk. "That's because you meditate while wrapped up in a blanket and lying in bed, not sitting upright. Of course it won't work."
Baskara sat down while chewing on the cake, still holding the curiosity on his face. "Mom, please teach me how to meditate properly. I'll even skip my afternoon nap if I can understand all this."
Tirta sighed deeply. "Alright, but you have to promise me, just five questions a day. If it's more than that, my brain might explode."
"I promise... half!" Baskara replied, laughing loudly.
Tirta could only shake her head, but behind her smile, she felt proud. Her child might still be small, but his enthusiasm and curiosity burned like a small fire that never went out.
Unfortunately, Tirta did not fully understand the true nature of her child. Behind his cheerful, innocent, and playful demeanor, there was an extraordinary intelligence hidden. Baskara, despite being only seven years old, had secretly discovered and read one of the basic meditation techniques that was actually intended for Semediawan family members who were of appropriate age and had permission.
With his impressive learning speed, he grasped the contents of the technique in just a few hours. He learned how to absorb the spiritual energy of nature through proper breathing, body concentration points, and maintaining a calm state of mind. But of course, Baskara's approach was still colorful.
That night, in his dimly lit room, he sat cross-legged on a thin mat. The blue glow of energy lamps swayed gently on the ceiling. His eyes shone, and his lips curved into a characteristic smile—a mischievous and plotting grin.
"Hmmm... If tomorrow I can meditate and feel the energy of nature, I bet Mom will be shocked! Heheheh…" he murmured, chuckling softly as he held back his satisfaction. The corners of his mouth lifted, like a sly character in a fairy tale.
But what Baskara was doing wasn't just childish antics. Beneath the innocent behavior and wide grin lay a secret that no one knew—not even his own mother.
Baskara was a child born with an extraordinary anomaly. While still in the womb, he stayed there for ten years. Yes, ten years! A pregnancy that defied all rational explanation.
And miraculously, when the pregnancy entered its third year, he began to hear conversations from the outside world. By the time the pregnancy reached four years, he could understand every word and meaning, as if his mind had developed beyond his age.
When he finally entered the world, there was no cry. No baby wail. Just a flat, calm face, and eyes so sharp that time seemed to stop. The midwives who witnessed it were stunned, their bodies frozen in awe.
Tirta and her husband could only remain silent, almost not believing what they saw. The baby that was born seemed not just to be a baby—he seemed to carry something that could not be explained.
In the end, by mutual agreement, they asked everyone present to keep the event a secret. They feared that if the secret spread, their child would become a target for those who wanted to exploit or even destroy him.
And now, seven years later, that child—Baskara—was beginning to walk his own path. Unbeknownst to anyone, tonight, he would perform his first meditation.
With slow, deep breaths, he closed his eyes.
"Hopefully, tomorrow morning, I can wake Mom up with a little wind technique, just to surprise her," he murmured with a satisfied smile.
However, that night... something unexpected began to rise from within him.
A few moments after sitting cross-legged and regulating his breath according to the technique in the book, Baskara started to feel something different. The air around him seemed alive. Subtle energies that were previously invisible began to appear as soft lights flowing aimlessly, dancing in the air like stardust freely drifting.
He slowly opened his eyes, a smile slowly forming on his face. "Is this... the spiritual energy? It's so abundant…" he murmured quietly. He took a deep breath and grinned, "Alright, time to absorb! Wushhh!"
Suddenly, the spiritual energies swirling around him began to gather above his head, condensing like a cloud full of vapor. Then, with a gentle movement like a waterfall, the energy fell onto his body, flowing from his head down to his feet. His body felt warm and comfortable, as though embraced by a soft mist flowing in through his nose, skin pores, and into his veins.
"So warm... and comfortable..." he whispered.
However, he soon realized something was wrong. The room around him began to vibrate slightly, the wind blew from an unclear direction, and several small objects in his room—books, pens, even sandals in the corner—were blown away and fell to the floor.
"Hmmm... Why is it like this? The book didn't mention any effects like this," he said, furrowing his brow.
From outside the room, a light step and a soft voice called out.
"Baskara...? Didn't you close the window, dear? Why does it feel like there's wind coming from inside?" his mother, Tirta, called from behind the door.
Baskara jolted, his eyes widening. "Uh-oh, this is bad!" he muttered quickly.
He stood up hastily, trying to calm the energy still swirling around his body. "Y-yes, Mom! I'll close it now! Hehehe!" he answered with a panicked tone but still trying to sound casual.
Tirta paused for a moment, then her footsteps retreated, seemingly thinking that her child had just forgotten to close the window, as usual.
Baskara sighed in relief. "Phew... that was close…"
He sat back down, watching the remaining spiritual energy slowly dissipating from the air.
"Well... that's enough for now," he muttered quietly, still astonished. "But why did it have such an effect? The book didn't say anything about the room being hit by wind…"
He stretched and yawned widely. "Alright... sleep first. Tomorrow, I'll ask Mom more questions. Heheheh…" he murmured, grinning before lying down on the mat, letting his mind wander between satisfaction, curiosity... and a little mischief.