In his early twenties, Kai grew up in a humble fishing village on the lush coast of the 'Spice Islands'. But his heart was more attached to the depths of the forest behind his village than to the roar of the waves or the fishing nets.
"The forest speaks to me, Father," Kai once said as a child, pointing to the dense trees.
From an early age, he felt an inexplicable connection to the natural world around him. Not just admiring the beauty of the tall trees or the chirping of the birds, but Kai also heard them.
"They sing, Mother. Songs about the sky and the earth," he whispered to his mother one evening.
His gift was not structured verbal language, but rather the resonance of emotions and energy radiated by the forest. The rustle of the wind through the leaves conveyed the joy and freedom of the tree spirits.
"The wind is so cheerful today," Kai murmured, smiling to himself.
The gurgling waters of the river carried the serenity and wisdom of the guardians of the spring.
"This river holds many stories," an elder once told him.
"Listen carefully, son." Even the silence of the forest spoke, conveying the vigilance and mystery of the creatures that lurked within.
"Shhh... someone is watching us," Kai whispered softly as he walked through the trees.
For Kai, this was not a metaphor or mere imagination. He really felt the presence of the invisible entity. He could feel the restlessness of an old tree whose roots were starting to be eroded.
"The tree is sick... I feel it," he said anxiously to his father one day. Or the fear of a deer being chased by a predator deep in the forest.
"The deer is afraid... there is a predator near him. I feel his strong fear."
He learned to recognize the "voice" of every corner of the forest, making it more than just a collection of trees and animals, but a living, breathing community.
"Every leaf has its own story," Kai thought, gently touching a strand of bamboo.
Of course, this ability made him considered strange by most of the villagers.
"Look at Kai, talking to himself again," a small child whispered to his friend. They saw him as a quiet and lonely child, preferring to spend time in the forest rather than interacting with others.
The whispers began to spread.
"He must have supernatural powers," said an old fisherman suspiciously.
Some people say Kai has a sixth sense that allows him to sense the supernatural. Others whisper that he has a connection with the forest dwellers, perhaps even a pact with them.
"Don't get close to him, or something will happen to you," a mother tells her child.
Some more conservative parents worry that Kai has been "possessed" by the forest spirit, making him strange and unpredictable.
"The forest spirit is cunning, it can lead young minds astray," an elder warns.
They warn their children not to get too close to Kai, fearing that his "strangeness" will rub off on them.
However, not all villagers are so negative.
"He has strengths that we don't have," a wise elder says.
Some, especially elders who still remember the ancient stories of the harmonious relationship between humans and nature, view Kai's abilities with a tinge of respect.
They believe that Kai may be a young nature shaman, someone chosen to maintain the balance between the human world and the spirit world.
"Maybe he is our intermediary with nature," an elder says hopefully.
They remembered the legends of their ancestors who also had a natural sensitivity and acted as intermediaries with the forest guardians.
"Just like his great-grandfather," whispered a grandmother with a faint smile.
Kai's parents played a crucial role in bridging this misunderstanding.
"He's a good boy, with a pure heart," said Kai's father in defense of his son. They never hid Kai's uniqueness, but they never exaggerated it either.
They taught the community about Kai's kindness, about his deep knowledge of the forest that often helped them find firewood or medicinal plants.
"He knows a lot about healing plants," said Kai's mother proudly. They explained that Kai wasn't evil or dangerous, just different.
"Let him have his way," Kai's father told suspicious neighbors.
Still, the stigma stuck.
"That strange boy…" some people muttered behind his back.
Kai often felt alienated, caught between two worlds – the human world that didn't fully understand him, and the forest spirit world that had become his refuge.
He learned to ignore the whispers behind his back, but deep down, he longed for acceptance and understanding.
"One day... they will understand," he whispered to the wind.
As signs of forest disturbances began to emerge, the community's view of Kai began to shift slightly.
"The animals are becoming strange... what's happening?" a villager asked anxiously.
At first, they looked for rational explanations for strange phenomena such as aggressive animals or wilting plants.
However, as the incidents became more intense and could not be explained logically, some people began to remember Kai's "strangeness."
"Maybe Kai knows something... he's close to the forest," a mother said worriedly. Maybe, the young man they had always considered odd might have the answer or even the key to solving this problem.
Slowly, curiosity and hope began to grow among some of the villagers.
"Kai, do you know why the forest is like this?" an elder asked approaching him.
They began to observe Kai more closely, looking for signs or clues from his behavior in the forest.
Several elders began to approach him, trying to unearth ancient knowledge that might be hidden in the forest "language" that only he could understand.
They approached slowly, their wrinkled faces holding fragile hope.
"Son, try to listen to the forest… what is it saying?" Granny Ino asked in a hoarse but hopeful voice, her trembling hand touching Kai's arm.
Her dim eyes stared at Kai with surprising intensity. Kai closed his eyes, focusing his hearing beyond the rustling of leaves and the chirping of birds. He tried to feel the resonance of the forest, the vibration of energy that always whispered to him.
"The forest...not calm, Granny," Kai answered slowly, his eyes opening again with a frown.
"There's… chaos… like a suppressed pain."
Elder Baras, who was standing beside Granny Ino, nodded slowly.
"As we feel too. The Earth is indeed not well." He squinted toward the sacred forest that seemed to grow darker in the shade of the afternoon.
"Maybe something woke him up… something disturbed him."
"Did the forest say anything, son?" Grandma Ino demanded, her grip on Kai's arm tightening.
"Did it show you the way out?"
Kai closed his eyes again, trying to find answers in the silence of the forest. He felt the fear of the tree spirits, the worry of the spring guardians. And beneath it all, there was a faint, ancient hum growing stronger from the depths of the earth.
"I feel... the 'sleeping snake' moving, Grandma," Kai whispered, his voice barely audible.
"It's restless... very restless."
Grandma Ino and Elder Baras exchanged glances, their faces growing pale.
"The sleeping snake... the legend..." Elder Mara murmured in a worried tone.
"We must act, Granny," Kai said with sudden determination burning within him.
"If the 'sleeping snake' fully awakens... as you say... disaster will befall."
Grandma Ino nodded slowly, tears streaming down her wrinkled cheeks.
"You're right, kid. You're the only one who can hear them... maybe you're also our only hope." He let go of Kai's arm and looked at him with great hope.
"Listen to the forest, child. Let it guide you."