The silence in Sawerigading’s grand home was a heavy shroud, broken only by the frail, shallow breaths of his beloved daughter, We Cudai. He knelt beside her, his noble features etched with profound despair, feeling utterly helpless against the mysterious affliction that stole her vitality. "Why has this fate befallen us?" he murmured, his voice a raw whisper, despite his noble standing.
We Tenriabeng, his wife, placed a comforting hand upon his shoulder, her gaze firm yet empathetic. "Sawerigading, we must consider every option," she urged, her voice steady. "Even the most unusual. Perhaps planting padi, despite it being a commoner's task, holds the key to her recovery. We have exhausted all other avenues." The suggestion was a stark challenge to his ingrained noble pride.
Sawerigading wrestled with the profound indignity of the idea. His status forbade such manual labor, yet his daughter’s pale face fueled an anguish that transcended social norms. After a moment of agonizing internal conflict, his love for We Cudai prevailed over his noble feelings. "Very well," he conceded, his voice heavy with reluctant conviction. "We shall discuss this unprecedented step with Datu Palinge' and La Mappanganro."
In an unprecedented display of collective humility, Sawerigading, Datu Palinge', and La Mappanganro, clad in simpler attire, joined hands in the muddy fields. Their noble hands, accustomed to scrolls and scepters, now tilled the earth, planting the sacred padi—a symbolic act of profound sacrifice for We Cudai. This arduous labor, typically reserved for common folk, became a testament to their unwavering family bond and shared hope.
Three months later, the fields yielded a bountiful harvest, the golden padi swaying gently in the breeze. Sawerigading, having personally witnessed the diligent growth, felt a fragile glimmer of hope rekindle within him. "This padi will be her medicine," he declared, a new conviction hardening his resolve for We Cudai's recovery.
A reverent ritual commenced, centered around the harvested padi. Traditional dances unfolded with solemn grace, and fervent prayers ascended to Sanghyang Seri, imploring divine intervention for We Cudai's healing. The air was thick with ancestral supplications, each movement and chant a collective plea for mercy and restoration.
However, the fragile peace was shattered when Datu Palinge' arrived, his face etched with an ominous new concern. "There is an unforeseen complication," he announced gravely. "For the cure to be complete, two mute individuals, We Gaderang and We Pusaka, need specific, rare tools—items hard to procure."
Sawerigading felt a consuming despair. He had already sacrificed his pride, yet now faced another seemingly huge obstacle. The uncertainty of how to obtain such specialized tools tormented him, casting a long shadow over their hard-won hope.
He considered a risky solution: sending La Galigo on a mission to Ale Luwu, a distant land known for its dangers. The thought alone was heavy with risk.
La Mappanganro, his expression grave, confirmed the dire necessity. "It is an extreme risk, Sawerigading," he stated clearly. "But for We Cudai, we have no other recourse. This journey is imperative."
With a profound sigh, Sawerigading accepted the daunting burden. His decision to send La Galigo showed his deep love, a sacrifice beyond pride and family duty. The future remained precarious, We Cudai's destiny hanging in the balance, but Sawerigading had chosen to face the unknown, propelled by an enduring hope.