Kudingking stood under the scorching midday sun, sweat trickling down his back as he stared at the small bag of rice in his hand. The weight of it felt so light, almost mocking, against the weight of his aching body. His muscles screamed from the labor he'd put in, his hands rough from the manual work that now filled his days. He used to command legions, lead warriors across battlefields with the weight of his weapon Gayang in hand, and now, this… just a handful of rice. The world seemed to mock him in return, as though laughing at the absurdity of it all.
His attire was simple yet functional.He only wore a white loincloth, its fabric worn and frayed from the long hours of work. The cloth was tied at the waist, the edges fraying with time, revealing the strength of his once godly form now tempered by the burdens of his punishment. His feet are bare.Free from any kind of shoes.His skin, dark from both the sun and his years of toil, gleamed with sweat, and his long hair, once braided and decorated with intricate adornments, was now simply tied back with a rough string. His body ,however, is lean and a bit skinny, though he still have some muscle from the hard work he did all these years.Its such a contrast from his original divine state.His original divine state are strong and muscular.In fact ,more taller than a mere mortal.Sometimes,when he look at his own reflection in the river,he a felt sting of humiliation.This face,this body are no longer belong to a god.He felt so frail and so small according to himself.
The rice bag in his hand felt like an insult, a reminder of his fall from grace.
Kudingking's frustration simmered beneath his calm exterior, his throat tightening as he looked up at the old man, who seemed oblivious to the depth of his struggle.
The old man, by contrast, was a picture of a different kind of wealth. He was adorned in traditional attire that spoke of his heritage and status. He wore a black jacket known as a "Gaung," its long sleeves and high collar indicative of the traditional male dress. The jacket was embellished with gold trimmings and buttons, adding a touch of opulence. Paired with the jacket were black trousers called "Souva," secured with a wide indigo-blue waistband, also adorned with gold accents along the seams. Atop his head rested a "Siga," a headgear made from woven dastar cloth, folded and twisted in a distinctive manner, leaving only a small corner of the cloth visible. This attire was completed with accessories such as a "Kaking," a black waist sash, and a "Himpogot," a silver belt composed of interconnected coins, symbolizing wealth and status.His thin form, adorned with a string of polished beads around his neck, stood there with a calm detachment, his eyes as cold as his demeanor.
"Shouldn't I at least get a full bag of rice for all my efforts?" Kudingking inquired, his tone betraying a hint of suppressed anger.
The old man barely reacted, his voice unyielding. "You should be grateful. Do you know how hard it is to find rice nowadays? The crops barely survive the season." His shoulders shrugged indifferently, as though the world's struggles meant little to him.
Kudingking's eyes narrowed. "That's not true," he said, his tone growing sharper. "Rice grows just fine around here. You can find it everywhere."
"Then grow it by yourself then."The old man said with a flat tone.
Kudingking just wants to smack the man's head. But he is not in a good position right now.He knows the other man just wanna taunt him.
"Are you joking? You know why I can't grow the rice!"
Unmoved, the old man waved a dismissive hand. "Take it or leave it," he stated flatly, offering the small sack.
For a moment, Kudingking stood there, staring at the old man with disbelief, anger bubbling beneath his skin. The rice, so small and insignificant, seemed to mock him. His hand tightened around it before he caught himself.Then he put the small rice bag inside his barait, a basket bag that made from rattan.He exhaled deeply, the frustration slowly melting away as he remembered the lesson he had to learn.
Be patient.
He then put his barait on his back.
With one final glance, Kudingking turned his back on the old man. His steps were slow and deliberate. The ache in his body was nothing compared to the weight of his humiliation.
At least I get to eat after two days.He thought.
"Hey, young man! If you need work again, just find me in Bawang Village."
Young man?If only you know how old I am.
The words echoed in the quiet space between them. Kudingking wanted to curse the man, to lash out at the casual arrogance of it all, but instead, he paused. His jaw clenched as his irritation flared, but then, slowly, he turned around to face the old man again. His eyes, cold and steady, met the old man's.
Without a word, Kudingking turned back and began to walk away, his pace unhurried. He wasn't defeated; he was adapting, learning to live with his punishment, one step at a time.
He kept walking along the muddy road. It wasn't usually like this as the ground was always dry. But it had been raining a lot lately.Thankfully,it's not raining today but there is no sun light.Its cloudy but it's feel ...warm.Perhaps it's gonna rain later.
I need to go home as soon as possible.
He thought.
He let out a huge sigh when he finally reached his ...humble shack.Before heading inside, he stopped by the river near his shack. His feet were caked in mud, with small cuts from sharp stones along the road. He crouched at the edge and rinsed them off, wincing as the cold water hit the open wounds. Once they were clean, he climbed the steps. The stairs groaned under him, a few barely holding together. Inside, the roof leaked in two corners. The floor was uneven, patched with scrap wood. Nothing in the place was solid, but it was still standing.
Inside, the roof leaked in two corners. The floor was uneven, patched with scrap wood. In one corner, he had a small spot for cooking.Its just a few stones set up for firewood, with a blackened pot he used to cook rice. Smoke always found a way to slip through the gaps in the wall.
He take out the bag of rice from his barait.Preparing to cook the rice .
After the rice is cooked,he slowly eating it.Savouring the taste of the plain rice.He knows that he will not die of starvation because of his father will.But still,he hate the feeling of hunger.
There was a time he went three weeks without food. It wasn't to test himself but instead he wanted his father to notice, to end the punishment. But his father had already made sure his body wouldn't quit, no matter how much he suffered.Its frustrated him.
In the end,he try to catch a fish on the river.Its was hard for him as his body getting weaker from not eating for three weeks.Not only that,since his father took his divinity he can't use his strength to catch the fish using his power.His body and eyes movement are not fast enough to catch the fish.So he waited for a right moment and keep on train himself on how to catch a fish.
When he was able to catch a fish for the first time ,he shout happily.
Kudingking just smiles at himself when he remembers that memory.Feeling proud at his small achievement.
He finally feels full after two days of not eating.Only after he ate did he realize that he had not yet cleaned himself in the river.If he had his divinity,he won't have to take a bath as gods are always in purity and smell nice.
So, despite feeling tired from working tirelessly he just gets up and walks out from his shack.His body feels sticky with sweat.
Since it was almost dusk, Kudingking quickly washed himself, using the flowers that he picks from near his shack to make himself smell more pleasant. It wasn't typical to bathe so late, not with the hour approaching when spirits, or something far less human, began to emerge from the shadows.
The air felt different now, thick with the scent of earth and water, carrying the weight of something unseen. A ripple broke the stillness of the river, barely noticeable at first. Something shifted just beneath the surface, disturbing the calm flow of water.
There was no wind to cause it, no animal to disturb the reeds along the bank, no creature drinking or moving near the water's edge. The water shifted unnaturally, as though something from below was causing it to stir.For a moment, the ripples expanded outward, sending waves that lapped against the muddy shore, but nothing emerged.
Kudingking however act like he don't realize the presence of that creature.He continue washing himself when suddenly the water ripple again.This time the waves from below the river is much bigger than before.As if ,that creature is trying to make Kudingking scare or give him a warning.
He waited, expecting a third ripple, but none came. As the sky grew darker, Kudingking slowly emerged from the river, his body bare. He dried himself with the cloth he had left on a large stone, then put on his clean loincloth.
His eyes remained fixed on the river, cold and unmoving.
He knew what it was. And he wasn't afraid. But the problem is that he couldn't even wield a sword now.
Shit.
He have to use whatever he have now.With a flick of his wrist, Kudingking grabbed the dry cloth he had laid on the stone and whipped it through the air, using the heavy folds of the fabric to strike the water or any approaching threat. The cloth, once a tool for drying, became an unexpected weapon in his hands.
The ripples in the water grew bigger, slowly spreading out from where the creature was emerging. At first, the disturbance was small, but it quickly became more noticeable, as if the thing below the surface was aware of Kudingking's presence. It rose slowly, its dark shape breaking the water's surface. The air around him grew thick, a sense of unease settling over him. The creature moved with purpose, not in a rush, but in a way that made it clear it had no intention of rushing.Like a predator that knew its prey would not escape. Its eyes gleamed, cold and intent, as it continued to rise from the water.
Kudingking frowned at the creature. It was a crocodile, but not just any crocodile. This one was a spirit, the kind that could change into a human. It walked upright on two legs.
That sight would be rare to most people, but not to Kudingking. He had lived long enough to see stranger things. He had even seen the sky with more than one sun. As he looked at the spirit crocodile, he noticed the faint outline of human features in its body. The shape of its shoulders, the posture, the way its eyes stared back at him.
"What do you want?" Kudingking's voice was cold.
The man-crocodile let out a low laugh. It rumbled deep from within his throat, rough and guttural.
"Nothing special. Just that this river belongs to my people."
"So?" Kudingking's voice turned sharp.
The man-crocodile gave a slow grin, flashing rows of sharp white teeth.
"Well, I prefer... my people prefer privacy. Use the other river, human."
Kudingking didn't flinch. His gaze held steady.
"I've lived long enough to know this river didn't always belong to your kind," he said. "You're the outsider here, not me."
The man-crocodile blinked, the grin on his face tightening. He studied Kudingking again, this time with a hint of confusion.
"You speak like you've been here for ages,"
"You don't need to know me. But I've bathed in this river long before your tribe claimed it. I'm not leaving because you showed up late."
The spirit crocodile narrowed his eyes, the muscles in his jaw tightening as if deciding whether to argue or strike.
The man-crocodile let out a soft hum, as if amused.
"I see. You must be one of those stubborn ones," he said with a polite smile. "But I'm sure you understand how important it is for certain… boundaries to be respected."
His tone was smooth, almost friendly, but the way his eyes watched Kudingking said something else entirely. The threat was there and it was quiet, but clear.
Kudingking raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.
"If you want me gone, say it. Don't dress it up like a warning."
The spirit's smile widened, though it didn't reach his eyes.
"It's not a warning. Just a request. I wouldn't want any... accidents to happen. This river can be unpredictable at night."
Kudingking's jaw tightened.
"Then be careful. I don't like accidents either."
The man-crocodile couldn't hold back a mocking laugh. It echoed low and wet, like it bubbled from the back of his throat. Kudingking said nothing, but his fingers tightened around the cloth in his hands.
"Ah... haha... that's funny," the spirit said, wiping at the corner of his mouth, though there was no real humor in his eyes. "Did you just threaten me?"
He leaned in slightly, voice dropping.
"Well, well... and here I was being so polite to you, human."
Kudingking had enough.
His body ached from a full day of labor under the sun, and the small bag of rice still felt like an insult weighing down his back. He hadn't slept properly in days. The roof leaked. His feet were cut. And now, this creature was standing in front of him, laughing in his face.And now this thing was mocking him like he was just some ordinary man in the wrong place.
He snapped.
His grip tightened on the cloth in his hand, veins rising on his forearm as he took a step forward.
"You talk too much," he muttered, voice edged with fury. "Laugh all you want, but I'm not in the mood to run."
The man-crocodile paused, still grinning, but his eyes watched more carefully now.
Kudingking didn't flinch.
"I've worked all day for scraps. I haven't rested in days. You think I'll back down just because you're bigger?"
He shifted his stance, ready.
"Come on, then. Let's see who walks out of this river."