Zor woke early, the morning sun just beginning to light the village rooftops. The salty breeze from the sea brushed against his face as he stood outside his small window, eyes filled with hope and fire.
Today, he had a purpose.
With excitement burning in his chest, he ran to the village square where some elders were already starting their day. Among them was Kalim, sweeping the front of his wooden porch.
Zor waved his hand and called out, "Tang Kalim!"
Kalim looked up, raising an eyebrow. "You're up early, boy."
Zor nodded with a big grin. "I've decided! I want to be a Seeker!"
The villagers nearby paused, turning their heads toward the boy. Kalim blinked, lowering his broom.
"I want to be a Seeker," Zor repeated. "I want to discover who I really am. I want to explore the world. I want to go beyond this island!"
Kalim chuckled softly. "You're still young, Zor. Being a seeker is not a children's job."
The other villagers murmured their agreement. One old woman shook her head. Another man smiled and said, "That boy always dreams big."
"But I'm already twelve!" Zor argued. "And you told me before, Tang Kalim, that anyone ten years old and up can be a Seeker!"
Kalim raised a hand to stop him. "I did say that, yes..."
Zor leaned forward, pressing. "So that means I can, right?"
But Kalim's expression grew more serious. "I also said that only the most talented ones can be Seekers, Zor. Not everyone who wants to be one becomes one. Only those with great knowledge and ability are accepted. Just because you qualify doesn't mean you should."
Zor opened his mouth to reply, but no words came.
His heart, though still burning, felt the first sting of resistance.
Zor clenched his fists. His voice trembled, but not from fear.
"If my talent right now isn't enough," he said, "then that's fine. I'll gain skills. I'll work hard."
He raised his voice, his words firm and full of fire.
"I'll work harder than anyone!"
The villagers turned. More and more residents had gathered, drawn by the sound of his voice. They stood quietly, watching the boy who had grown up among them who had once been found crying beneath the broken statue, now standing tall in front of them all.
Zor's eyes swept across the crowd.
"I love this island," he said. "And I thank you all for raising me. You're my family. That will never change."
His voice wavered. His hands trembled. But he didn't stop.
"But I feel like… I have to grow outside this island."
Tears welled up in his eyes, slipping down his cheeks.
"I want to solve the puzzle of my life," he said softly. "To know who I am. To know my beginnings. My parents."
He took a shaky breath.
"I'm going to be strong."
The silence that followed was deep. The wind passed gently through the trees, as if even it respected the boy's words.
Kalim stepped forward.
He looked at Zor, truly looked at him, not as a child, not as a burden, but as something rare.
A spark.
Without a word, Kalim opened his arms and pulled Zor into a tight embrace.
"You stubborn, brave child," Kalim whispered. "You really mean it, don't you?"
Zor nodded against his shoulder, wiping his tears.
Other villagers began to nod quietly. Some smiled. A few wiped their own eyes.
"He's one of us," someone murmured.
"Let him try," said another.
And though no official decision was made that day, something had changed.
The island had always been quiet. Safe. Ordinary.
But now, one of its own was dreaming beyond its borders.
And the winds that had always circled Markirel… began to shift.
Zor took a deep breath as Kalim let go of the embrace. His tears had dried, but the warmth in his chest remained. The silence around him was no longer heavy, it was filled with something new.
Support.
Zor stood straight and looked around at everyone. His voice was calm, but full of emotion.
"Thank you… everyone."
He looked down for a second, then back up.
"I know some of you didn't want me to be a Seeker at first," he said. "And I understand why. You care about me. You're worried about my safety. And that means a lot to me."
He stepped forward, looking each of them in the eye.
"I never had a real family. I don't know who left me here… but all of you, you became my home."
He smiled gently and started naming those closest to him.
"Thank you, Nanang Eliya, for cooking me warm meals even when food was tight. Your boiled yam stew saved me so many nights."
The old woman put a hand to her chest, eyes welling with emotion.
"Thank you, Lolo Bram, for teaching me how to carve wood and fix broken tools. I still use that little knife you gave me."
Lolo Bram gave a small wave, his usual stern face cracking into a proud grin.
"Thank you, Ate Sila, for helping me clean my muddy clothes every time I played too rough."
She laughed. "You mean every day."
Zor chuckled, then continued.
"Thank you, Kuya Jorn, for always telling me stories about the world outside, even if they scared me."
"You're welcome, little man," Jorn said, arms crossed proudly.
"Thank you, Tita Mayra, for patching up my bruises and cuts. You always made me feel like I was stronger than I really was."
Mayra smiled softly from behind the herb stand.
"And… thank you, Tang Kalim," Zor said, turning to him, "for answering my endless questions. For never getting tired of my curiosity. For telling me the truth, even when it was hard."
Kalim gave a slow nod, eyes filled with quiet pride.
"I wouldn't be who I am without all of you," Zor said, his voice catching again. "And even if I leave this island someday, I'll carry each of you with me."
The wind passed through the square again, this time gentle and warm.
For the first time, the island no longer felt like a cage to Zor.
It felt like a home base.
A beginning.
And his journey was just about to begin.
That evening, the village quieted under a sky of stars. A fire crackled softly in Kalim's yard, and Zor sat cross-legged beside him, the flames reflecting in his eyes.
Kalim stared into the fire, silent for a long time.
"Zor," he finally said, voice low, "I've lived many years. I've seen people leave, seen people come back broken… or not at all."
Zor stayed quiet.
"I'm still not sure if this is the right path for you," Kalim admitted, "but I can see now, you're not just chasing adventure. You're chasing truth."
Zor looked up. "I have to know. Even if it's hard. Even if it's scary."
Kalim gave a small nod. "Then I'll help. I won't stop you… but I won't make it easy either."
Zor smiled. "I wouldn't want it easy."
By morning, word had spread across Markirel. The villagers gathered again, this time with a sense of purpose. Zor stood in the center, unsure what was happening.
"What's going on?" he asked.
"You didn't think we'd just let you walk away without any preparation, did you?" said Jorn, stepping forward with a long wooden spear in hand. "This was mine when I was your age."
Another man, Kuya Elden, came with a short knife in a leather sheath. "Good for skinning, cutting, and defense. It's sharp."
Auntie Lera brought a small archer's bow and a set of handmade arrows. "Light. Easy to carry. Might help keep distance if needed."
Zor looked at all of it in awe. "You're giving these to me?"
But before he could reach out, Kalim stepped forward and raised his hand. "That's enough."
The villagers turned.
Kalim walked between them, then toward Zor.
"He doesn't need all that," Kalim said simply.
"But Tang Kalim," Jorn protested, "he's leaving the island. He needs to defend himself."
"This spear was mine in the war!" Elden added. "It's been passed down two generations."
"He needs to learn how to protect himself!" someone else said.
But Kalim remained calm. He walked to Zor and looked him in the eye.
"No weapons are needed to be strong and ready."
Zor blinked. "Huh?"
"Strength doesn't come from the weapon in your hand," Kalim continued. "It comes from the mind holding it."
Some villagers murmured in disagreement.
"But what if he's attacked?" "He's just a kid." "Let him take the bow at least."
Kalim ignored them.
He reached into his robe and pulled out a small, well-kept knife with a smooth handle and a simple blade—not shiny, not fancy. Just practical.
He handed it to Zor.
"This is enough."
One of the villagers scoffed. "That little thing? What even is that? It's barely a knife."
Kalim turned toward the man, his expression calm. "It doesn't matter how big or small your weapon is. What matters is how well you know it."
He looked back to Zor.
"Zor, can I ask you something?"
"Yes?"
"Do you know how to clean a fish using a knife?"
Zor nodded. "Yes."
"Do you know how to dig up root crops using the edge of a blade?"
"Yes."
Kalim smiled and placed the knife firmly in Zor's hand. It fit just right.
"Then this is enough for you… for now."
Zor looked down at the knife, then back up at Kalim.
It wasn't the most impressive weapon. But it was real. Familiar. His.
He gripped it tightly and nodded.
"Thank you, Tang Kalim."