After finishing their meal, the two of them walked through stone corridors toward the Ancestral Hall, a place that now served as Baskara's learning chamber. The aura there was silent yet profound, as though it held the breath of the ancestors who had long rested within.
In front of binong wood shelves that stored engraved boards of ancient techniques, Eyang Pradipa stopped at the eastern rack. He turned to his grandson, his eyes calm yet piercing.
---
"My child… before you delve deeper into the world of alchemy, you must understand its roots. What is alchemy?"
Baskara stared intently, and Eyang Pradipa began to explain—his deep and steady voice seemed to blend with the echo of the room.
---
"Alchemy," he said, "is an ancient art—not merely turning things into gold or brewing healing potions like in old legends… but a way of life."
"It unites the elements of the earth—solid matter, metal, crystal… The elements of the heavens—spiritual energy, essence of the soul, forces of the cosmos… And the element of the soul—which comes from within yourself."
"True alchemy is about transforming essence—elevating something to a higher state of being, including your own self."
---
Baskara fell silent, slowly beginning to grasp the depth of those words.
**"Now," Eyang Pradipa continued, "alchemy is popularly divided into two major branches:
1. Weapon Forging – those who combine metal, spirit, and spiritual energy to create living weapons, or weapons with their own will.
2. Spiritual Pharmacy – concocting potions, salves, or medicine from rare herbs and alchemical substances that can heal wounds, strengthen the body, and even influence consciousness."**
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"But remember, my child…" Eyang Pradipa's voice lowered, "to become a true alchemist, you must first be strong within. You must at least reach the Realm of Soulbirth."
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Explanation of the Realm of Soulbirth
"The Realm of Soulbirth," said the grandfather while sitting cross-legged and gesturing for Baskara to sit before him, "is the spiritual phase in which a person has formed their soul core. Not just as a vessel for energy, but as a center of consciousness, strength, and personal will."
"When someone reaches this realm, they no longer merely receive energy from outside, but can 'generate' energy from within. Like a sun that burns by itself, not a torch that needs to be lit."
"It is here that alchemy begins to reveal its true secrets."
---
Baskara listened with bright eyes, yet remained calm. "So, if I haven't reached the Realm of Soulbirth yet, I can't fully master alchemy, right, Grandpa?"
"Correct," Eyang Pradipa nodded. "But you can begin with the basics. Learning the symbols, understanding the spiritual patterns of ingredients, and studying the theory of elemental resonance. The Realm of Soulbirth will simply unlock your path to true transformation."
---
Baskara slowly stood, gazing at the alchemy shelf before him.
"Then I'll begin now. There's no time to wait."
In a blink, time passed like a breeze through silent mountains. Seasons changed, rain fell, leaves dropped, and the ancestral land bore the traces of Baskara's training. With unwavering resolve, he continued forging himself. His meditation was no ordinary one—he immersed himself in every breath, every pulse of energy in his body as though reweaving the foundation of his life.
Days passed in stillness, accompanied only by nature's sounds and the wind of the ancestral land. Baskara's routine remained constant—he spent his days meditating, practicing martial arts, and studying the fundamentals of alchemy, both in weapon forging and spiritual pharmacy. His persistence was fueled by the support of his grandfather, Eyang Pradipa, who continuously provided resources, potions, and even spiritual stones to strengthen Baskara's meditative foundation.
Seasons turned. Rains came and leaves fell, until in the blink of time, Baskara had reached the age of ten. And at that age, he had reached the final threshold of the Realm of Padet Sukma—the stage that had been the foundation of his power thus far.
One silent night, amidst the gentle rumble of rain falling on the roof of the Ancestral Hall, Baskara slowly opened his eyes. His gaze was sharp yet peaceful. He knew… the time had come.
> "Finally…" he whispered in his heart. "It's time to enter the next realm… the Realm of Soulbirth."
As the silent night began to breathe with coldness, that peace suddenly shifted into something stirring. Dark clouds gathered in the sky, as if hiding something unusual. In mere moments, heavy rain pounded the earth fiercely, striking roofs and the ancestral ground like drums of war from the heavens.
Lightning crackled, splitting the sky with blinding flashes—illuminating the normally calm and reverent compound of the Baskara family. But that night, the atmosphere felt different. A power was awakening—something invisible, yet felt to the bone.
Especially above the Ancestral Hall—where inheritance, techniques, and ancient secrets had been kept for centuries—lightning seemed to dance, crawling over the roof like angry dragons of light. Wind spiraled around it, creating a vortex of energy that forced anyone nearby to retreat.
From within the hall, a surge of spiritual aura spread out, dark violet with golden streaks—signifying two forces at once: destruction and birth.
At the center of that aura, Baskara sat cross-legged. His body trembled, not from fear, but because a great power within him was beginning to stir. This was the night his soul would be reborn. The night the silent child would shatter the limits of the human world.
His grandfather, Eyang Pradipa, stood at the hall's entrance, clad in a gray ancestral robe. His eyes watched the raging sky.
> "Even the heavens greet this moment… The Realm of Soulbirth will open tonight," he murmured softly, his breath heavy with prayer.
Inside the silent space of his soul, Baskara seemed to be drawn into another dimension.
His physical body remained sitting cross-legged in the center of the hall, now surrounded by swirling wind and spiritual lightning, but his consciousness… had entered a vast and majestic place. A dark space, colored deep violet, limitless, yet calm… like the womb of the cosmos.
He stood at the center—without shadow, without direction.
> "Welcome… to yourself," a deep yet gentle voice echoed from every direction.
Suddenly, small lights began to glow, forming three figures: a crying child, a wounded youth, and himself in a radiant spiritual form of white and gold. The three figures encircled him.
"Who are you?" Baskara asked softly, but his voice resounded loudly in that space.
The child replied, "I am the pain you've buried since birth, the silence and loneliness you've never spoken."
The wounded youth said, "I am your anger, your desire to prove yourself, your grudge against injustice."
And the radiant figure said, "I am your soul's potential, your true essence… But to become me, you must let go of the other two."