Whispers of Rumah Gadang*
By Leni Marlina**
In the picturesque village of Minangkabau land, nestled between rolling hills and whispering forests, stood the grand old traditional house known as Rumah Gadang. Its veranda, adorned with intricate carvings and draped in climbing ivy, was a sanctuary where time seemed to stand still.
Sarah, the youngest daughter of Datuak Bagindo Kayo and Siti Nurhaida Sikumbang,  a spirited young artist with dreams as vast as the sky, often found solace in the veranda's embrace. Her paintings adorned the walls of Rumah Gadang, each brushstroke capturing a piece of her soul. Putri, the second daughter of the fabulous parents, a renowned writer who frequented the Rumah Gadang for inspiration, shared Sarah's love for the veranda's timeless charm. Maryam, the oldest daughter of the amazing parents, a  wise and gentle presence, was the heart of Rumah Gadang, her quiet wisdom guiding those who sought refuge within its walls.
One evening, as the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a golden glow over the veranda, a sense of unease settled among the cousins. Sarah, lost in thought as she gazed at her latest painting, spoke first. "I can't shake this feeling that something is amiss," she said, her voice tinged with concern.
Putri, her brow furrowed, nodded in agreement. "I've been struggling with my writing lately. It's as if the words have dried up, and I can't find my muse," she confessed.
Maryam, ever perceptive, observed the tension in the air. "Perhaps there's a deeper reason behind these feelings," she suggested. "The veranda of time often reflects what lies within our hearts."
As they spoke, a gentle breeze swept through the veranda, carrying with it a sense of urgency. Suddenly, a loud crash echoed from the direction of the Rumah Gadang's library. Without hesitation, the friends rushed inside to find books scattered across the floor and a mysterious figure standing amidst the chaos.
The intruder, a young man with wild eyes and a haunted expression, turned to face them. "I'm sorry," he stammered, his voice trembling. "I didn't mean to intrude, but I had to find something."
Sarah, her instincts sharpened by years of artistic intuition, studied the stranger. "What were you looking for?" she asked gently.
The young man hesitated before blurting out his story. He explained how he had stumbled upon an old journal in the village's archives, a journal that spoke of hidden treasures within Minangkabau land. Desperate to save his family's struggling business, he had come to search for clues that could lead to the rumored riches.
