Renggi Nanta had just returned to her office that late afternoon when Maharahi visited her. She handed her a stack of paper that each was filled with a painting and a little information of seventeen men that they could take to Smajawangsa within twenty-four hours. Renggi Nanta knew that Maharahi wasn't just a common physician, but she'd never guessed that her power could allow her to know these many things. 

"Only seventeen?" she asked. 

"The rest are women, children, elderly or upperclassmen," answered Maharahi. "You said it yourself, this isn't the time where the more the merrier." 

Renggi Nanta made a beckoning sign to the window. Just like that, a man in all black uniform similar to the uniform that Lir wore jumped right in.

"Take them to Fort Hallow," she gave him the papers. He nodded dutifully and then left the way he came. 

Maharahi folded her arms and placed her hands on the back of her waist. "You have eyes and ears in this entire kingdom, Renggi Nanta Dipaswirih," she commented. "How come you didn't see the attack?"

Renggi Nanta just turned and replied, "I could say the same thing about you."

Ha.

Maharahi bowed, "My lady."

Renggi Nanta lifted her chin up, "Maharahi."

The man who received the instruction distributed the papers to sixteen other black-clad people. They hopped on their horses and rode to seventeen different directions, all across Ranundala. And just like Maharahi expected, they were all found in less than a day. 

It was just past midnight when a young man was being kicked out of a tavern for disturbing the other patrons. His tied long hair was all messed up, while his deep set eyes were barely open under his arched eyebrows with a slit on the left one. He slumped on the village street, scaring passersby with his awful singing. His steps took him to a dark alley where his voice echoed through the walls. 

His singing went lower once, before he started screaming again. And as he reached the end, he suddenly jumped backward. His left hand reached for a figure's neck while his right hand found a bottle. He smashed the bottle and directed the sharp edges onto the figure's eyes just when he screamed, "Amanji of Rigawir?" 

The young man dropped the figure to the ground. He took a step back, completely shocked and confused. "Who the fuck are you?" 

A few kilometers away from the village, in a janak kurat training hall known as majar, there was another young man. He was meditating, just like Jantra Kawa did in his quarter. And because he was meditating, he could hear someone else's breathing not far from where he sat. 

"State your purpose, my friend," said the young man with spiky hair and a scar across his right chin. He didn't even bother to open his eyes. "Otherwise, leave me in my peace." 

"I'm here to find Hismar," a woman in black uniform stood in front of him. He couldn't open his yellow eyes quick enough. 

The dawn broke at the other side of Ranundala. A young man with half ponytail quietly snuck out of the mansion while fixing his dark green wrap shirt. Just when he circled the mansion, he bumped into a plump man in iron armor.

"What the hell are you doing here, rookie?" asked the plump man. "Where's your armor? Go get dressed before the Commissioner wakes up."

"Yes, Sir," replied the long haired young man.

He hurried toward the well nearby the servants' quarters to wash his face. Just as he bowed, a badge with the kingdom's symbol of the blazing firebird landed on top of his palm. He looked around and found someone in all black uniform was leaning by the fence, giving him a salute. 

Far in the east, another young man just left a luxurious manor in the middle of a rice field. His muddled face and tight lips couldn't hide the confliction that's haunting his heart. When another black-clad person stood in his way, he shouted, "For gods' sake, what is it now? I told your master I'd get back to him in three days. Inggi is not some duck I can just hand to him, you know. She's my sister. She has her own mind. And I'm sure becoming a concubine has never crossed it." 

The black-clad person whispered something and gave him the same badge with a firebird symbol. He scrutinized at the badge, touching its surface, feeling the authenticity of an officially made identification. 

"Alright," he said as he looked back up. "But she's coming with me." 

This time, it was the black-clad person who looked conflicted. He then shrugged. A few minutes later, three riders were headed to Fort Hallow in the north side of the capital city. 

It was when the horses trod the cobblestone street they realized they were already in Smajawangsa. The black-clad rider led the way into an abandoned fort, almost in ruins after the last rebellion during King Prajanggaru II's reign. As soon as they reached the bridge, the gates were open slightly, allowing one rider to come in at a time. 

They mounted their horses and went into the building. Inggi, the man's younger sister, was told to wait by the hallway while her brother was taken into a room. Inside the room, there were already sixteen other young man who frighteningly looked similar to him. He was the last person to be called into another room where he was questioned by four other black-clad people. Their question seemed so random at a time, ranging from how he would react if a certain thing happened, all the way to his personal feeling for the royal family. 

After he finished his session, he went back out to the larger room alongside with one of the questioners. She called only nine names, Amanji, Hismar, Dwigarya, Resan, Jat Kirdi, Kinalu, Mantem, Saka Gumin and Darga. The remaining six men's journey ended there. Once the other six left the room, she addressed the nine men and thanked them for their honesty, followed by the announcement that their last trial would commence. 

A mountainous palace guard made his way into the room. The questioner told them to defeat him on a one-on-one combat. Some of them were visibly gulping. 

"You could at least tell us what we get for beating him," groaned the young man with a slit eyebrow called Amanji. 

"A chance to be of service for the Kingdom of Ranundala," she answered. Hearing the grunt from the audience, she continued, "And an appropriate token of gratitude that may change your life forever." 

"Do you mean..." Hismar spoke up, "we get to serve the Prince Regent?" 

"Correct," answered the woman. "Would you like to try first?" 

"Sure," answered Hismar. 

The remaining candidates removed themselves from the middle of the room, giving some space for Hismar and the palace guard to go head-to-head. Once the woman began the combat, Hismar ran toward the palace guard. With a speed your eyes could barely catch up, he jabbed his fingers on the guard's pressure points, blocking the flow of chi that rendered the guard completely motionless. Then he slid under his arm and flipped him backward. The guard went down in four seconds. 

Even the black-clad people were astonished. They knew he was taken from a majar, but they didn't expect him to perform the art of chi blocking. This man was not only an expert in janak kurat, he could probably the training master himself.

The man from the commissioner's house smirked. "I've never seen someone so eager to enslave himself for the royal family." 

"The Prince Regent's decree exempts my majar and the graveyard I take care of from tax," Hismar stood up. "It would be my honor to be of his service." 

The hosts helped the palace guard up. After a few minutes, he was ready to fight again. 

"Well, I'm only interested in the 'appropriate token of gratitude that may change my life forever'," said a brawny yellow eyed man as he took the center stage. 

After being signalled, the two charged at each other. The brawny man directed a punch to the guard's face, but he caught his fist and twisted it as if he's locking a key. The brawny man attacked with his left hand. He hit his head. But the guard swept his feet and he fell into his butt. The guard didn't give him a chance to get up as he lifted him up until he was level before knocking him down with his forehead. 

"Thank you for your effort, Jat Kirdi," said the woman in black. 

The rest of the men took a sharp breath. Hismar had made it too easy that they forgot the palace guard must be trained hard to be a palace guard in the first place. At this rate, Hismar could be the only one who pass the trial. 

One by one, they challenged the palace guard. He was strong and skilled, although he didn't use any janak kurat technique. Four other men were defeated. Hismar was still the only one who won the trial. Until the man named Amanji managed to climb the guard, choked his neck and brought him to the ground. 

"Please yield," he whispered with his raspy voice. "I don't wanna kill you." 

"I yield!" shouted the palace guard. 

Amanji let go of him and helped him get up. The two remaining men, the man from the commissioner's house and Inggi's older brother, glanced at each other. Since the latter didn't seem to want to move his ass, the former came into the ring. 

And he proceeded to have the longest fight within the trial. Punches were blown and received, but he always got back up on his feet. Charging, deflecting, slipping away just before the palace guard made his final blow. 

"Alright, that's enough!" the woman in black shouted when their fists were still up in the air. "Kinalu, you pass." 

The man jumped and celebrated his win, while the palace guard fell on the ground, taking a rest after his long sparring session. Kinalu still had so much energy that he hopped to join Hismar and Amanji like a rabbit. 

"I've never seen someone so happy to enslave himself for the royal family," quipped Hismar.

"I'm just happy that I pass without embarrassing him," Kinalu waved at the palace guard who just replied with a grunt. "We guards have a code too."

"Darga," the woman continued the trial and called Inggi's older brother. "Whenever you're ready." 

The long haired man with a tied head band let out a long breath and shouted as he attacked the palace guard. Unlike the winners, this man didn't have any fighting skills at all. His attacks were so random and unpredictable. He used dust, some rocks he found on the ground, his head band, even his shoe against the palace guard. Due to his decreasing stamina and quite the confusion, the palace guard was forced to go down. 

Darga didn't get to celebrate like Kinalu, because the door was then opened. A woman, clearly of noble class, walked into the room. 

"Congratulations," said Renggi Nanta. Her presence made everyone else withdraw from the room, including the beaten palace guard. "You are all selected to become the Prince Regent's new personal guard. The Prince Regent is currently unable to travel owing to a traumatic accident he just had. Your job is to take his place when he needs to travel." 

 

"I beg your pardon?" Hismar repeatedly blinked. "Take his place?" 

"Yes," Renggi Nanta nodded. "You might notice that you have similar appearance. It is to match His Highness' image. You will act like him, speak like him, dress like him, meet people who are important to him. You will be his human shield, but only until the coronation of the Crown Prince. This may cost you your life, but your dedication will be valued." 

"Go on," Amanji crossed his arms on his chest. 

"You must leave your old life and come live in the palace to guard the Prince Regent at all times," continued Renggi Nanta. "Including waiting and attending the Prince Regent in private. No day off, no small money allowance, no slacking, no fooling around. As payment, by the end of your term, you will receive a house and a farm in some place in Ranundala."

Their mouth went wide open. A house was already a massive payment for a mere personal guard. But a farm? They could live without having to work for someone else for the rest of their lives. This token of appreciation truly might change their lives forever. 

"Now, if you..." 

"I object!"