The First Morning
1805 Words
Chapter 020: The First Morning
Morning mist still hung thick among the towering trees.
Dew dripped from leaf to leaf, creating a rhythmic tick... tick... tick... that echoed through the silence.
The slope before them looked damp, blanketed in thick moss that glistened faintly beneath the sunlight beginning to filter through gaps in the canopy.
Rafandra took a long breath, narrowing his eyes as he assessed the terrain ahead.
"We need to be careful," he said quietly but firmly. "Every step upward is risky. If we slip, that ravine below is incredibly deep. The dew is still heavy, the ground is slippery... it's extremely dangerous."
Rezvan nodded, his expression serious. His eyes swept across the slope, searching for rocks and roots sturdy enough to use as footholds.
He rolled up his sleeves before climbing slowly.
One foot found a root. The other searched for a solid gap between the rocks.
His breathing remained steady, but his heart pounded hard enough for him to feel every beat in his chest.
Crack!
The sound of a branch snapping beneath his foot made both men freeze instinctively.
The forest around them seemed to hold its breath along with them.
Slowly but surely, they continued climbing.
Then Rezvan suddenly lost his balance.
His body lurched sideways as the soil beneath his feet gave way in a small landslide.
"Teach!" Rafandra shouted hoarsely, instinctively grabbing Rezvan's hand as half his body dangled over the slope.
"Come on, Teach... you've never climbed before," Rafandra grumbled while pulling him back up.
Rezvan groaned as he struggled to regain his footing.
"I... climbed... back in high school..." he gasped between heavy breaths, desperately searching for solid footing.
Rafandra snorted while bracing himself to keep both of them balanced.
"This is just a basic climb, and how many times have you slipped already?"
"Three."
Rezvan answered between breaths before flashing him a weak smile.
"And I'm still alive... thanks to you."
Rafandra rolled his eyes before slowly releasing his grip.
"Be more careful. You're not a cat... you've only got one life."
Rezvan chuckled through his labored breathing.
"Haha... good one, Raf."
The morning breeze drifted gently past them, carrying the scent of wet earth and damp leaves.
Below them, the fog rolled like a white ocean—peaceful, beautiful... and deadly.
From somewhere beneath came the distant sounds of insects and flowing water, piercing the forest's silence.
They resumed climbing.
Only a few more steps remained before reaching the plateau above.
Rezvan's breathing grew ragged.
His dirt-covered fingers reached for the last rock that could support his weight.
"Raf..."
He spoke between breaths.
"You've become more relaxed around me."
"Could you stop calling me 'Teach' all the time and just use my name? We could be a little closer, couldn't we?"
No answer came.
Rafandra didn't move.
His body had gone completely rigid.
His eyes remained fixed ahead as though he had frozen in place.
"Raf, did you hear me?"
Rezvan's voice rose slightly, irritation creeping in after being ignored.
He climbed the final rock and stepped beside Rafandra.
"Raf... what's wrong? Why are you so quiet?"
He wiped the sweat from his forehead.
Still, Rafandra said nothing.
He simply stared ahead.
His eyes had widened.
His breathing had stopped.
Finally, in a voice barely above a whisper, he said,
"Tell me..."
"...that you're seeing what I'm seeing."
Rezvan followed his gaze.
The moment his eyes found the landscape before them—
Something that should not exist in the world they knew—
His pupils dilated.
His breath caught.
No words came.
Only silence...
...and the thunderous pounding of their hearts.
Before them stretched an immense valley reaching as far as the eye could see, lush, damp, and deeply green.
Towering trees rose into the sky, their trunks so enormous that it would take five grown adults linking arms to encircle one.
Their leaves reflected sunlight like wet sheets of polished metal.
Some trees leaned at impossible angles, wrapped in lianas stretching for dozens of meters, coiling around them like enormous sleeping serpents.
This world was alive.
Its sounds were deep...
Heavy...
Strange.
Far away, rhythmic thunder echoed through the earth, like the beat of gigantic drums.
Morning mist still lingered low when an elephant emerged from the white veil.
Its silhouette was immense and calm.
Then another appeared.
And another.
Soon the valley filled—not with one or two, but with an entire herd.
Their bodies were massive and powerfully built, noticeably taller than any elephant living in the modern world.
Their rough hides glistened with dew.
Fine hairs covering their backs and shoulders became visible only when shafts of sunlight pierced the thinning mist, outlining their enormous bodies.
They moved in slow, synchronized rhythm, parting grass that reached as high as a person's chest.
Every footstep sent droplets of water cascading down, sounding like a gentle rain falling around their legs.
Their trunks brushed through shrubs and examined every blade of grass, as though confirming the path was safe.
It was ordinary behavior for creatures like them...
Yet to anyone hiding nearby and watching...
It felt different.
Too quiet for a herd that large.
Too orderly.
Too... cautious.
Above the herd, enormous shadows glided low overhead.
The birds possessed astonishing wingspans, their colors blending seamlessly with the mist and pale morning sky.
Each beat of their wings stirred powerful gusts that sent waves rolling across the tall grass, as though a giant were breathing over the valley.
Their wingbeats were not loud—
Only heavy...
Moist...
Enough to raise the hairs on the back of one's neck.
Because in a landscape this silent, every sound became proof that something was moving.
Something was alive.
Something was watching.
Near the river glistening through the center of the valley, large deer-like figures emerged.
Their silhouettes gradually sharpened.
They were magnificent sambar stags, tall and heavily built, their long branching antlers resembling clusters of dry branches whenever they rose above the mist.
The antlers were not tree-sized, but broad enough to appear almost forest-like from a distance.
The valley floor was dark and saturated with moisture—fertile alluvial soil left behind by a river that must once have been much larger.
Each footstep the animals took produced a soft churning sound, leaving shallow depressions that quickly filled with water.
The valley breathed moisture.
Even fresh footprints reflected the morning light.
Above them, copper-colored insects darted in erratic patterns.
Their wings flashed like shards of heated metal, characteristic of tropical insects thriving in humid, mineral-rich environments.
Occasionally, a giant dragonfly skimmed over the river's surface, its shimmering body dancing among the reflections.
The mist slowly thinned.
A brilliantly blue sky appeared overhead.
It felt strangely unfamiliar to anyone from the modern age.
There were no airplane contrails.
No towers.
No aircraft.
Nothing but an untouched sky, just as it had existed for thousands of years before humanity reshaped the world.
There was no sign of civilization anywhere in the valley.
Only nature's rhythm remained—
The wind whispering through tall grass.
The cautious footsteps of giant animals.
The distant calls of hornbills from forests cloaking the surrounding slopes.
Nothing openly threatened them.
Yet that very tranquility pressed heavily against their chests.
Movements too smooth.
A landscape too vast.
Mist too eager to swallow every sound.
Across that endless plain, the herd seemed completely indifferent to whether lost humans stood hidden at its edge...
...or whether someone nearby was holding their breath, praying not to be noticed.
Standing at the edge of the ravine, Rafandra and Rezvan could only stare.
Not because they were afraid—
But because their bodies could find no proper way to respond to a sight that seemed to violate both space and time.
"You see it...?"
Rezvan's voice finally broke the silence, trembling ever so slightly.
"Yeah."
Rafandra answered quietly.
Briefly.
His voice sounded low, almost as though he were confirming it to himself.
"Are you sure we're looking at the same thing?"
Rezvan leaned forward slightly, unable to tear his eyes away from the vast green valley below.
"Are we still sane?"
He tried to joke.
But the anxiety in his voice overwhelmed the humor.
"What do you think?"
Rafandra glanced sideways at him with an analytical look—as though evaluating both the man beside him and the impossible situation—before turning back toward the unknown landscape.
"Hey... does Indonesia even have a valley like this?!"
Rezvan asked, his breathing caught somewhere between awe and panic.
"I'm not a forestry officer."
"How would I know?"
Rafandra answered flatly, never taking his eyes off the valley as though reading an unfamiliar map.
"I think..."
Rezvan muttered.
"...I might have to change the subject I teach."
"Becoming a biology teacher... doesn't sound like a bad idea."
The two exchanged a brief glance.
Confusion and amazement mirrored each other on their faces.
Their feet remained firmly planted.
Yet their chests felt heavier—
As though nature itself demanded silence, unwilling to have this extraordinary landscape disturbed while it quietly restored itself to the world's forgotten memory.
"Are we..."
"...still in Indonesia?"
They spoke almost simultaneously.
The question was born from the same uncertainty—
A mixture of wonder, confusion, and tension that made their heartbeats fall out of rhythm with the valley below.
Rafandra and Rezvan remained standing at the cliff's edge, silently surveying the impossible landscape.
Then the calm shattered.
The ground beneath their feet trembled.
A slow...
Heavy...
Rhythmic vibration.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
Rezvan straightened immediately.
"W-What was that?!"
he hissed, instinctively stepping backward.
Rafandra didn't move.
"Quiet."
His voice was barely audible.
He leaned forward, listening for the pattern while scanning the trees.
Something enormous was moving nearby.
Every instinct sharpened by years of experience told him so.
The impacts grew louder.
BOOM! BOOM!
Something was striking the ground with its full weight.
Then came a rough growl—
Low...
Long...
Powerful enough to make the dry leaves carpeting the forest floor vibrate.
Rezvan swallowed hard.
He wanted to speak...
But fear sealed his mouth shut.
Rafandra remained perfectly alert, scanning every direction.
Everything he had learned through years of training and survival experience granted him calm in the middle of mounting tension.
Suddenly—
The bushes below them exploded with movement.
Three enormous wild boars burst from the undergrowth.
Each stood nearly waist-high to an adult.
Their black bristles were thickly coated in mud.
Fresh blood still dripped from their snouts and legs.
Rezvan shuddered.
His eyes widened.
What kind of wild boars are that big?!
His mind screamed dramatically.
Rafandra watched with unwavering focus.
His breathing remained short but steady.
His fingers instinctively tightened against his knees.
His body leaned slightly forward—
The unconscious posture of someone accustomed to reading dangerous terrain.
What kind of boars... am I looking at? he wondered silently.
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