The Unfinished Story, Pt. 2

Once upon a time, there was a dying writer.

The writer desperately needed to write one last story before he meets his last seconds as he himself held a true passion a writer to tell endless of stories so he grabbed himself a blank book and an ink. Then, he began to write the first sentence on the first page of the book:

“Continue and finish this story.”

Afterwards, he died peacefully.

Years later, a young female Indonesian writer purchased the same book from an old bookstore. Inspired by the first sentence that she read on the first page, the Indonesian writer began to write sentence and each of every sentence to the page…until the book mysteriously disappeared from the Indonesian writer’s room. But she shrugged and moved on with her life.

Three days later, the book appeared to another writer, a young man living in Boston. He leafed through the book and read what had been laid out before him: a tale of two siblings who had gained riches and royalty simply by the eldest sister weaving a robe fit for a king. Intrigued by what he read, he took up his pen and began to write on...

The flames roared around the two young men, licking at their long, flowing robes. It seemed as though there was no way out; their fate was sealed. Hirata threw off his robes and wrapped them around Panji's mouth. "Wait, why are you doing this?!" Panji cried in anguish.

"Take...take my robes for me...Panji," Hirata sputtered, inhaling the smoke from the fire. "Give them...to Sandrika...tell her that...I...I love her." Hirata fell face-down on the fine sandstone floor, motionless. Panji trembled with fear; would he be next? To make sure that wouldn't be, he wrapped the robes around his face, to filter out the smoke.

But then, a loud rumbling sounded outside; thunder. The rainy season had begun in the kingdom, and a wall of rain came pouring down from the heavens, slowly extinguishing the flames surrounding the boys' room. As the fires died down, Panji removed the robes wrapping around his face and sighed in relief. The worst had been over...

"...But at what cost?" he thought to himself, looking over Hirata's motionless body.

--- --- --- ---

Soon after everyone had been alerted, the medicine men of the kingdom tried to see if they could heal Hirata. They tried all the finest healing herbs, spices, hot springs, everything they could possibly use to cleanse Hirata of the smoke he inhaled. But try as they might, they could never get him to fully recover.

One day, he had called King Kharna, Sandrika, and Panji to his side. "I...I do not know how much longer I will live on this earth," he said weakly. "But there is something I want you three to do for me."

"Name it my friend," Kharna said quietly. "And we shall try what we can."

"Your Majesty..." Hirata said, looking to the king. "I would like you to find your siblings...so that they can share your glory with you and your father.

"I sense kindness in your heart...and I believe...that you will be the one to bring back Shataharu back."

"But what of his older brother?" Sandrika asked. "He was cursed not a year ago, and still has nineteen years before he can return to normal!"

"Kharna is king now," Hirata said. holding his sister's hand gently. "It is up to him whether or not his brother remains cursed. He will make that judgement when he listens to his brother's plea." Hirata finally turned to Panji. "Panji...my dear friend, Panji...protect them."

"I am only a beginning soldier," Panji disputed. "How can I possibly defend His Majesty and his wife?"

"You can...if you try," Hirata said, smiling weakly.

"For you, my friend, we will do what we can," Kharna said. "We will depart at sunrise the next morning. For now, let us make the proper preperations."

Kharna and Panji left the room silently, but Sandrika stayed behind to talk with her brother briefly. "Are you sure this is what you desire, little brother?" she asked.

"I am sure," Hirata nodded. "What I want is best for your husband...and what is best for you. When I first heard the king's story, I was saddened how, when he had claimed the throne, he would have nobody but his father and you to savor it with. I want him to be able to share that joy with his brothers...and you as well."

A tear dripped from Sandrika's eye as she hugged her brother gently. "May the Gods watch over you as you heal," she whispered, trying not to cry. And then, she slowly let her brother's hand go as she left the room. She knew what was to come...and hopefully, her brother would still be around for her to tell of their accomplishments.

The midnight hour was closing in, and the man had decided it was best to get some sleep. So, leaving the book on his desk, he slowly went off to bed.

But later that night, a thief silently broke into his home and found the book. He read through the book himself, and figured that he would sell millions if he were the one to complete it. So, he took the book and dissappeared in a flash.

Realizing the next day what had befallen of his newfound treasure, the man did not know how it had dissappeared. Regardless, however, he decided to take what he had remembered and write a story based around that concept. As for the book he had...that's another story...

To be continued...