Chapter 5: The Claw Path's Echoes
The pre-dawn air on Kinabalu Peak was heavy with mist, the jungle silent save for the occasional drip of dew from the canopy. Rentap Buana, stood at the edge of the clearing, the tiger pelt draped over his shoulders like a second skin, its weight a constant reminder of his survival. His tattered green shirt clung to his bruised frame, the scars on his back and ribs throbbing with each breath. The fisherman's knife bloodied from the hunt, felt inadequate for the trial ahead, but the staff in his hand—worn smooth by Harimau Jati's training—gave him a flicker of confidence. Mira's coral pendant pulsed warm against his chest, her memory a steady flame as he faced the *Claw Path*, a trail Guru Harimau Jati had warned would test his spirit. The guru stood nearby, his tiger pelt cloak catching the faint light, his scarred face unreadable. "The mountain speaks today," he said, his voice a low growl. "Listen, or be consumed."
Rentap's heart pounded, the guru's words from the night before echoing—*face the echoes, conquer them, or they'll haunt you*. "What will I find?" he asked, his voice steady despite the unease coiling in his gut.
Harimau Jati's eyes glinted, sharp as a tiger's. "Kinabalu holds the spirits of its past—tigers, warriors, their battles etched into the stone. The *Claw Path* will show you their echoes. You'll see what they saw, feel what they felt. Survive it, and you'll grow. Fail, and the mountain claims you." He pointed to a narrow trail winding into the jungle, its entrance marked by a stone arch carved with claw marks, the air around it shimmering with an unnatural haze. "Go. I'll be watching."
Rentap nodded, clutching the pendant, Mira's giggle flashing in his mind—her tiny hand in his, her scream as the pirates came. He stepped onto the trail, the jungle closing around him like a living thing, the air growing colder, heavier, as if the mountain itself breathed. The path twisted through ancient trees, their branches gnarled like claws, and the ground beneath his feet hummed with a strange energy, vibrating through his sandals. Shadows moved at the edges of his vision, flickering shapes that vanished when he turned. His grip on the staff tightened, the *Tiger Claw Slash* and *Leaping Fang Strike* fresh in his muscles, but this trial felt different—less a fight of the body, more a battle of the mind.
The first echo came without warning. The air shimmered, and the jungle faded, replaced by a vision of a warrior—tall, clad in a tiger pelt, his eyes wild with rage. He fought a massive tiger, its claws dripping blood, its roar shaking the earth. Rentap felt the warrior's fury, his fear, as if they were his own—the desperation to protect his village, the sting of claws raking his chest, the weight of failure as the tiger's jaws closed around his throat. The vision vanished as quickly as it came, leaving Rentap gasping, his heart racing. Sweat beaded on his brow, his hands trembling, but he pressed on, the pendant warm against his skin. "Mira," he whispered, grounding himself. "I won't break."
The path grew steeper, the air thicker, each step a struggle against an unseen force. Another echo shimmered into view—a young hunter, barely older than Rentap, facing three tigers at once. The hunter's courage surged through Rentap, but so did his terror, the realization of his own weakness as the beasts closed in, their claws tearing through flesh. Rentap staggered, the phantom pain searing his limbs, his mind reeling with the hunter's final scream. He dropped to one knee, clutching the staff, his breath ragged. The echoes were relentless, each one a flood of emotion—rage, fear, despair—threatening to drown him. But Mira's laugh cut through the haze, her voice a lifeline. "Brother, be brave," she seemed to whisper, and Rentap rose, his jaw set, the spark within him flaring against the darkness.
Deeper into the *Claw Path*, the echoes grew more personal. The jungle shimmered, and Rentap saw Blood Island—flames licking the longhouses, pirates laughing as they dragged Mira away, her hazel eyes wide with terror. Rentap's chest tightened, the memory no longer just his own but amplified by the mountain's power, the pain raw and sharp. He saw himself at ten, crawling through ashes, calling her name, his voice breaking as the smoke swallowed her. The echo shifted, and he saw Mira as she might be now—sixteen, her braid swinging as she fought back, her scream turning to a cry of defiance. Rentap's knees buckled, tears stinging his eyes, but he roared, slamming his staff into the ground. "I'll find you," he vowed, his voice echoing through the jungle. The vision faded, but its weight lingered, a fire in his chest that burned hotter than ever.
The final echo came at the path's end, a clearing where the air crackled with energy. A massive tiger appeared—not a vision, but a spirit, its form translucent, its gold eyes glowing with ancient power. It roared, the sound a wave that shook Rentap's bones, and charged. Rentap reacted on instinct, the *Leaping Fang Strike* flowing from him as he leaped, his staff slamming into the spirit's shoulder. The tiger didn't bleed, but it staggered, its form flickering. Rentap followed with a *Tiger Claw Slash*, the sweeping strike cutting through the air, the spirit snarling as it lunged again. The fight was a blur of motion, Rentap's body moving faster than his mind, the guru's training guiding his every step. The spark within him surged, a flame that matched the tiger's ferocity, and with a final thrust, he drove the staff through the spirit's chest, its form dissolving into mist with a final, mournful roar.
Rentap collapsed, panting, the jungle returning to normal around him. The air felt lighter, the hum of the *Claw Path* gone. Harimau Jati stepped into the clearing, his expression a mix of pride and scrutiny. "You faced the echoes," he said, his voice gruff. "Not many do and live. The mountain has marked you." He gestured to Rentap's arm, where a faint scar had appeared—a claw mark, glowing faintly before fading into his skin. "A sign of Kinabalu's favor. But also its claim."
Rentap rose, his body trembling but his spirit stronger, the spark within him now a steady flame. He clutched Mira's pendant, her memory sharper than ever, a promise he would keep. "What now?" he asked, meeting the guru's gaze.
Harimau Jati's lips twitched in a rare smirk. "Now, you train harder. The mountain's given you a taste of its power. You'll need more than that to master Tiger Martial Art." He turned, gesturing for Rentap to follow. "Rest tonight. Tomorrow, we push further."
That night, Rentap sat by the fire, the tiger pelt wrapped around him, the new scar on his arm a quiet reminder of the *Claw Path*. The stone pillars loomed, their carvings glinting in the firelight, as if acknowledging his survival. The echoes of the mountain lingered in his mind—Mira's scream, the warrior's rage, the tiger's roar—but they no longer overwhelmed him. They fueled him, a fire that would grow with each step on his path, a step closer to Taming Jiwa, though its power remained a distant whisper, waiting for him to claim it.
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