Prince Batara Lattu gazed across the shimmering sea towards Tompotikka. He longed for its princesses, his heart consumed by a powerful, almost feverish desire. His golden-sailed ship, the Tanete Manurung, cut through the morning mist, carrying him towards a destiny he both craved and feared. A fever had recently weakened Batara Lattu. Still, his mind fixated on Tompotikka's two princesses: We Datuk Sengeng and We Adil Luwu. Three months of travel and many cold stops had brought him to this port, rumored to be unassuming yet holding unparalleled beauty.
La Pangoriseng, his loyal advisor, approached Batara Lattu with a steady gait, though his face showed weariness from the long journey. "My brother," he began without preamble, "you cannot remain hidden. La Temalureng and I have discussed it thoroughly—we will propose marriage to We Datuk Sengeng on your behalf. This is the honorable path we must take now." Batara Lattu lifted his head, his eyes still red from the fever. "But how can we? We are not merely guests; Singingwero's forces are watching closely. They suspect something amiss within the palace walls." La Temalureng, ever direct, interjected firmly, "They fear the name of Ale Luwu. We possess ships and a thousand warriors. We shall present ourselves as palace renovators. We will enter without causing alarm. This is not war; it is a strategic maneuver."
At Tompotikka's palace edge, We Mamala, the princesses' guardian, bowed. La Pangoriseng and La Temalureng offered rice and proposed renovation. Her aged face was a canvas of suspicion and cautious hope. "If they truly come from Ale Luwu, what is their purpose?" she murmured to herself, her voice trembling slightly. "Our palace is vulnerable, our guards few. If they promise to repair it, could it bring us safety?" La Pangoriseng offered a subtle smile. "Safety or subjugation, you ask? We are not conquerors. We simply offer hands that can mend the decaying floors of your esteemed palace." We Mamala considered his words, taking several deep breaths. "Very well. But there must be no loud disturbances. The two princesses—they must remain absolutely safe."
Later, Batara Lattu shed his princely robes, donning the simple uniform of a worker. He concealed part of his face, attempting to quiet the frantic beating of his heart. He and his brothers carried water jars, swept dusty floors, and cleared debris—simple actions that tested Batara Lattu’s patience and resolve. Near a sunlit window, We Datuk Sengeng and We Adil Luwu walked gracefully. We Datuk Sengeng, whose dream of a golden ship still lingered in her mind, often paused to gaze at the distant sea. When Batara Lattu caught a fleeting glimpse of her, the world seemed to halt. His eyes widened, and his knees felt weak. La Pangoriseng and La Temalureng, witnessing their brother's profound reaction, exchanged knowing glances. "Control yourself, Lattu," La Temalureng whispered gently. "We are here in the name of our kingdom. Do not become a hindrance." "But she—" Batara Lattu's voice caught in his throat. Overwhelmed, he abandoned his disguise and rushed back to the ship, covering his face with a blanket. His fever had not vanished; it had transformed into a potent mix of shame and fear, ignited by the explosive feelings within his chest.
News of the Ale Luwu ships appearing in the sea soon reached La Hendri Giling and his wife, We Hendri Jelok. They cursed loudly, gripped by fear of Puang Matoa’s prophecy. A crown prince of Ale Luwu would marry a Tompotikka princess. "If this prophecy proves true," We Hendri Jelok muttered, her voice sharp, "then our position here will crumble. We must act swiftly to prevent it." They knew Ale Luwu’s arrival was more than renovation. It challenged their carefully constructed power.
One afternoon, as the sun began its descent, We Datuk Sengeng stood on the palace terrace, her gaze fixed on the ships anchored in the bay. Batara Lattu, now dressed in his formal princely attire, was guided by his two brothers onto the platform. His body trembled slightly, yet his steps were firm and deliberate. When his eyes met We Datuk Sengeng’s, a long silence fell, as if all other sounds had been drawn away from them. We Datuk Sengeng lowered her head slightly, then raised it, her expression serene but resolute. "You are from Ale Luwu," she stated, her voice calm and clear. "Why have you come here? Is it to repair our palace, or to claim the life of our nation?" Batara Lattu swallowed hard, his voice filled with earnestness. "We have come by command and by conviction. My father, Batara Guru, commanded my journey. I have come to propose marriage on behalf of Ale Luwu, not to conquer."
We Adil Luwu stepped forward, her face a careful balance of suspicion and hope. "Many promises have been made throughout history, and many have proven hollow. What tangible proof can you offer, Prince of Ale Luwu, of your true intentions?" She challenged him, her eyes searching his for any sign of deceit.
La Pangoriseng raised a hand, gesturing towards the ongoing construction. "We have already begun the work," he explained, indicating the newly laid stone floors and the diligent workers. "These are not the actions of invaders." La Temalureng added, his voice firm, "We are paying for the labor, we are making repairs, and we guarantee your safety throughout this renovation period. These are our proofs that we are not plunderers."
We Mamala looked from the two Ale Luwu leaders to Batara Lattu, her wise eyes scrutinizing them all. "If your intentions are truly good, then prove to these princesses that your arrival will not bring disaster. Do not rely solely on words."
Batara Lattu nodded solemnly. "I understand, We Mamala. I swear before you all and before the Heavens: my intentions are pure. If your hearts reject me, I will depart with honor. But if your hearts open to us, I will protect you with my life." His voice resonated with a deep conviction, leaving no doubt about his sincerity.
We Datuk Sengeng gazed at the prince for a long moment. A powerful intensity emanated from her words, not merely from fascination, but from her careful consideration of the consequences of every possible choice. "If you are truly earnest," she declared, her voice steady, "then prove it with actions that speak louder than any words."
That night, on the deck of the Tanete Manurung, the three brothers sat together. La Pangoriseng broke the silence. "Tomorrow, we will showcase the construction for all to see. Let them witness our hands at work. If necessary, Temalureng and I will stand as your shields." La Temalureng added, his gaze fixed on Batara Lattu, "And you, Lattu, do not allow your heart to make a decision before you truly know them. Love is not an excuse to disregard the fate of a nation." Batara Lattu stared out at the dark sea, swallowing the heavy burden that now felt greater than his own longing. "I came as the son of Batara Guru," he said softly. "I came as a future king. If war is forced upon us to protect them, then I shall make that decision. But first, I must know: will their hearts accept us, or will they ignite a war?"
The next day, as the repair work was publicly displayed, the spies La Hendri Giling and We Hendri Jelok observed from a distance. They hungered for an opportunity to exploit the situation. "If Ale Luwu gets too close, we will provoke a conflict between them and Singingwero," La Hendri Giling stated coldly. "Then Tompotikka will become a field of ruins—and we shall collect the remnants." We Hendri Jelok cautioned him, "Do not be reckless. If Ale Luwu wins, we are erased. If they lose, we are also lost. Our choice must be cunning."
As night fell, Tompotikka slept with an uncertain breath. On the deck of the Tanete Manurung, Batara Lattu closed his eyes and prayed, his resolve hardening. Behind the palace curtains, We Mamala kept vigil, offering counsel to the princesses: "Do not rush your decision. While your heart may tremble, your mind must ultimately choose." In the halls of Singingwero, strategies were being meticulously drawn; on the ships of Ale Luwu, the troops prepared for battle. The morrow would be a day of reckoning—the beginning of something that could escalate into a great war or forge a unifying alliance, forever altering the balance of power among the kingdoms.