Chapter 12: Shadows of the Straits
The night air on Blood Island was thick with salt and tension, the moon casting a silver sheen over the coral-strewn beach where Rentap Buana sat. At sixteen, he carried the weight of his journey in every scar—gashes across his back and ribs, wounds from the jungle's wrath on his shoulder and leg, and the two claw marks on his arms, one from the *Claw Path* and the other the *Mark of Mastery*, both glowing faintly under the moonlight. The tiger pelt draped over his shoulders was a mantle of pride, its stripes a testament to his trials on Kinabalu Peak. His new tunic, woven from jungle fibers, rustled softly as he adjusted his stance, the fisherman's knife at his belt now a warrior's blade, and the staff in his hand a symbol of his growth. Mira's coral pendant pulsed warm against his chest, her memory a steady flame that fueled his resolve, sharpened by Lina's warning of raiders near the straits. The village slept behind him, its longhouses quiet under the banyan trees, but Rentap's senses, honed by weeks of training, caught every whisper of the sea, every creak of the night.
The flame within him—the fire tempered by Kinabalu's lessons—burned steady, a quiet strength as he stood watch. Guru Harimau Jati's words echoed in his mind: *The mountain's favor is a double-edged blade. Use it wisely.* Rentap gripped the staff, the *Jungle Stalk*, *Tiger Claw Slash*, *Leaping Fang Strike*, and *Feral Roar Strike* ready at his command, his body coiled with anticipation. Lina had slipped away after their talk, her dagger glinting as she promised to alert the village if danger came, but Rentap knew the raiders' return was no coincidence. Six years ago, they'd taken Mira, and now their shadows loomed again, a threat he couldn't ignore.
A faint ripple on the water caught his eye—dark shapes cutting through the moonlit sea, their sails black against the horizon. Rentap's heart quickened, the pendant warm against his skin, Mira's scream a distant echo—*Brother, fight!* He moved to the jetty, his steps silent with the *Jungle Stalk*, and crouched behind a stack of fishing nets, watching as three boats approached, their hulls low with armed figures. Raiders, their blades gleaming, their laughter harsh as they dropped anchor. Rentap's grip on the staff tightened, the flame within him flaring, a fire ready to meet their darkness.
He waited, tracking their movements as they disembarked, their leader—a tall man with a scarred face and a curved sword—barking orders. They moved toward the village, their intent clear: plunder, perhaps more. Rentap's mind raced, Mira's hazel eyes flashing in his memory—her trust, her abduction. He couldn't let it happen again. Using the *Jungle Stalk*, he slipped closer, striking from the shadows with a *Tiger Claw Slash*, the staff cracking against the first raider's skull, felling him silently. The second turned, but Rentap was already moving, a *Leaping Fang Strike* driving the staff into his chest, dropping him with a muffled grunt.
The leader spotted him, his sword raised, and charged with a roar. Rentap met him head-on, the *Feral Roar Strike* surging from within, his staff whipping through the air with a primal yell, the blow slamming into the raider's sword arm, disarming him. The man staggered, but drew a dagger, slashing at Rentap's side. Rentap twisted, the blade grazing him, and countered with a *Tiger Claw Slash*, the staff cracking against the leader's temple, sending him sprawling. The fight was quick, brutal, the flame within Rentap burning brighter with each strike, a fire fueled by vengeance and love.
Noise from the village broke the silence—Lina's cry as she rallied the fishermen, their spears and nets a makeshift defense. Rentap finished the leader with a final *Feral Roar Strike*, the staff shattering his ribs, and turned to face the remaining raiders, four more emerging from the boats. He moved with the *Jungle Stalk*, striking from the shadows, his strikes a dance of precision and power—*Leaping Fang Strike* to down one, *Tiger Claw Slash* to cripple another. The villagers joined, their chaos complementing Rentap's skill, and together they drove the raiders back, their boats retreating into the night, leaving behind the fallen.
Rentap stood panting, blood dripping from his side, the flame within him steady but weary. Lina rushed to him, her eyes wide with awe. "You fought like a tiger," she said, bandaging his wound with a strip of cloth. "The village is safe because of you." Pak Din hobbled forward, his gaze softer than Rentap remembered, nodding approval. "You've brought honor, boy," he rasped, his voice rough but warm. The villagers gathered, their cheers a mix of relief and reverence, but Rentap's mind lingered on Mira—her absence a wound deeper than any blade.
That night, he sat by a fire on the beach, the tiger pelt wrapped around him, his wounds bandaged but throbbing. The stone pillars of Kinabalu lingered in his memory, their carvings a distant echo, but the *Mark of Mastery* on his arm glowed faintly, a promise fulfilled. The flame within him burned steady, a step closer to Taming Jiwa, its whispers now louder, a call tied to the raiders' return and Mira's fate. The sea whispered its secrets, and Rentap knew his path was far from over.