As they reached the monument, its holographic rainbow shimmered above them like a gateway to another world, casting kaleidoscopic reflections on the faces of passersby.
"This is where we part ways," Purnama said. Since the day hasn't changed in Rona yet, the entrance and the exit are the same. You'll arrive back at the Cirque."
Suria glanced up at him, a flicker of concern in her eyes. "How do you know the day hasn't changed yet in Rona?"
"Look, Suria," Purnama said, pointing towards the monument.
"That rainbow will vanish, replaced by holographic stars, and those little leprechauns will magically disappear one by one, the last leprechaun giving way to fairies. That's when the day changes."
"So, how do we get back before the day changes?" Riang asked.
"Head back to the spot where you entered Rona. You'll find a lake nearby. Jump in, and it'll transport you to an in-between dimension. That's where you'll regain your true form. After that, use your Dykin seed, and you'll be back on Earth."
"Gotcha, Purnama!" Riang chirped, her enthusiasm undeterred. "I remember seeing a crystal-clear lake near the tree I was galloping around before. My original form should be back to normal as well!"
"I'm sorry I can't show you both around this wonderful place," Purnama said, his voice tinged with regret.
Then his expression turned serious.
"The other reason I need to find Belang is because of your kris, Suria. There's something wrong with it."
"Yeah, it seems you noticed it too," Suria replied, her hand instinctively reaching for the gummy sword at her side, a frown creasing her brow. "I'm not sure what it is, but that Darkseed did something to it. It feels… off."
"If you find Belang, maybe we can come back here later and spend more time exploring," Suria said, settling onto Riang's back.
"Yeah, that's a great plan!" Riang agreed, her donkey head bobbing enthusiastically. "We can leave Aurea for a while and return here with the other Kshatriyas! Meeeeheeeeee!!"
"I'll do that," Purnama promised, a flicker of determination igniting in his chest.
"Let's go, Riang," Suria said, her voice filled with urgency. "The longer I stay here, the harder it will be for me to leave this place. Good luck finding Belang, Purnama." Her gaze lingered on him, a silent promise in her eyes that they would reunite.
Riang shot off from where they first came in like a donkey possessed, her hooves pounding a cheerful rhythm against the soft ground.
Suria and Riang headed south with heartfelt farewells, their spirits buoyed by the hope of reunion. Purnama, watching them go, turned east, setting his sights on Le-Dang, where his quest to find Belang awaited.
Along the path to Le-Dang stretched a vibrant, sprawling settlement. Houses nestled beneath rolling hills, woven into the canopies of ancient trees, hidden behind cascading waterfalls, and even floating on clouds that shimmered with a heavenly glow. Each dwelling told its own story, with wooden arches, crystalline windows, metal facades, and ornate designs blending seamlessly with sleek, futuristic touches. Paths made of light and shifting bridges linked the settlement, giving it an otherworldly charm.
Driven by urgency, Purnama pushed his genie-form speed to the limit.
He then arrived at the bustling, steampunk-inspired city of Le-Dang. Here, mystical and industrial forces collided in a wondrous display. Giant, brass-plated gears whirred and clanked on the sides of buildings, powering intricate clockwork mechanisms that lifted airships from towering docks. Intricate networks of copper pipes snaked along every façade, venting rhythmic puffs of scented steam that twisted into animated shapes, floating and cavorting above the cityscape. Factories even existed, producing golden kitchenware—a testament to the enduring spirit of craftsmanship within Rona.
Belang's residence stood on the outskirts of Le-Dang, a unique dwelling constructed from sturdy wood and brick. Its shape, reminiscent of a double-story igloo, was accented by a striking glass chimney that rose from its peak. Atop its main door perched a huge stone statue of a middle-aged man with a long, striped beard, a flat cap, and aviation goggles. This quirky monument served as a reminder of Belang's Celestion identity before entering Rona. Behind the house, a lush garden provided a tranquil retreat from the bustling town.
As Purnama approached the weathered wooden door, he raised his hand to knock, but there was no response. He knocked again and waited a moment longer, still without an answer. He tried the knob, and to his surprise, the door swung open, unlocked. He cautiously entered. The furniture was overturned, and shattered vases littered the floor. The air hung heavy with a strange silence.
"Belang?" Purnama called out cautiously, his voice echoing eerily in the empty rooms. No answer came.
Where was Belang? Had something happened to him? Wait...
A sudden realization struck Purnama. He flew closer to the bed, moved it aside, and lifted the large carpet beneath. A hidden door with a simple handhold was revealed. He pulled it open, unveiling a secret passage.
Purnama descended a narrow staircase into the dimly lit basement, where interconnected tubes and gleaming valves snaked along the rough-hewn walls. As he reached the secret room, a jumble of steampunk devices lay scattered across the floor, and a sack of Dykin seeds rested upon a wooden cabinet.
However, a glint of gold on a nearby table caught his eye – a small, intricately crafted chest encased in glass. His fingers traced the cool surface, hesitating before he finally peeked inside.
"That fool...this must be the only reason he was wanted..." he muttered, swiftly closing the chest and wrapping it in a soft cloth. He tucked the precious cargo under his arm and quickly retrieved a sack of Dykin seeds, securing them within his orange leather pouch.
Now certain of Belang's location and his course of action, Purnama launched himself towards Santu-Bong, taking the northern route through Le-Dang.
The path led him across a wide, open desert, where massive, gnarled, and ancient tree roots clawed skyward from cracked earth. Their surfaces, hardened like petrified wood, formed natural, arching bridges in places. The sand underfoot crunched with an unnatural, almost metallic echo, revealing veins of embedded obsidian shards just beneath the surface. Strange, geometric rock formations and towering, angular cacti broke the monotony of the dunes, casting long, sharp shadows. Emerald hills flanked the trail, home to those who had escaped the bustling life of the cities, their slopes dotted with crystalline springs that pooled into impossibly clear, vibrant oases. Despite its remoteness, trade persisted, with weather-beaten stalls and makeshift shelters serving weary travelers, their campfires casting dancing light against the stark, alien landscape.
Purnama eventually found refuge in a colossal dinosaur skull, ingeniously converted into a rustic motel. Its hollowed eye sockets now served as warm, inviting windows, casting a soft glow into the twilight. Rib-like struts arched overhead, creating a natural vaulted ceiling from which crude lanterns, fashioned from glowing fungi, hung like strange fruit. As he settled inside to rest and fill his stomach, a sinking realization struck him: three hours in Rona had already passed—equivalent to four days on Earth!