Chapter 99: Curator of Dust

  The air in the lower hall of the museum was stagnant, heavy with the scent of cured leather, rusted iron, and the dry, papery dust of centuries. It was a stark contrast to the humid warmth of the rainforest outside, a cool, subterranean stillness that amplified every sound.

  "Hey," Raito leaned in close to Yukari, his voice barely a breath against the silence. He nodded subtly toward the figure stomping up the stairs—a man who seemed less like a person and more like a boulder that had decided to grow a beard. "Do you have any idea who that is?"

  Yukari narrowed her eyes, studying the stranger. He was compact, barely coming up to Raito's chest, but his shoulders were nearly as wide as a doorway. His arms, exposed by rolled-up sleeves, were corded with muscle as dense as tree roots.

  "Who knows," she whispered back, her gaze tracing the intricate, heavy tools hanging from the man's belt. "I've never seen him before."

  Raito paused, his eyes flicking to the woman standing beside them. Zhu Lihua’s posture had shifted, her relaxed stance hardening into something sharper, like a blade being drawn. "But... your mother seems to know him," he whispered again.

  "It appears so," Yukari murmured, a flicker of apprehension in her voice.

  The tension in the room spiked, thick enough to taste. Zhu Lihua stood with her hands on her hips, a mocking, predatory smirk playing on her lips. The bearded man stopped a few paces away, his face darkening like a thunderhead.

  "Shorty? SHORTY?!"

  His voice was a seismic event, booming off the stone walls and shaking dust from the ancient tapestries hanging overhead. He stomped forward, his heavy, iron-shod boots clanking rhythmically against the floor. He jabbed a finger—thick and calloused—directly at Zhu.

  "I didn't get to where I am just to be called 'Shorty'!" he roared, his face turning a dangerous shade of brick-red. "And especially not by you, you overgrown matchstick!"

  Zhu didn't even blink. She merely tilted her head, her smirk widening into a grin that was all teeth. "If you don't want to be called Shorty, why not choose a form that reaches the top shelf?" she drawled, her tone dripping with a sweet, poisonous mockery. "Perhaps 'Vertically Challenged' suits your temperament better?"

  "Because you are the only one who calls me that!" the man shouted, veins bulging in his thick neck. His hands curled into fists at his sides, resembling two heavy sledgehammers. "Are you asking for a fight right now?! Here?! In a museum?!"

  "Maybe, maybe not," Zhu shrugged casually, inspecting her fingernails as if bored. "Who knows? You are the one blowing steam over a simple nickname."

  "Oh, you're asking for it!"

  The bearded man growled, a low, rumbling sound deep in his chest like a furnace roaring to life. He began to aggressively roll up his sleeves further, revealing forearms covered in old scars. The air around him seemed to heat up with his sheer indignation.

  "Uncle Tanvir!"

  A bright, cheerful voice sliced through the rising hostility like a knife through tension. Samira skipped between the two warriors, her hands raised in a placating, sunny gesture that seemed completely out of place in the gloomy hall.

  "You two know each other?" she asked, blinking innocently, her head tilting to the side.

  Tanvir froze mid-roll. The rage evaporated from his face instantly, the red flush receding as he looked down at the princess. He cleared his throat, smoothing down his vest with a rough hand.

  "Oh, Princess," he said, his voice dropping several octaves to a gruff but undeniably respectful rumble. He offered a stiff, awkward bow. "Welcome, welcome. What brings you down to the archives today?"

  He straightened up, shooting a quick, venomous glare over Samira's shoulder at Zhu.

  "And no," he spat, pointing an accusatory finger at the War Empress. "We do not know each other. I refuse to be grouped with this explosive firecracker. We simply share a... unfortunate history of collision."

  Tanvir froze mid-roll. The rage evaporated from his face instantly, the red flush receding as he looked down at the princess. He cleared his throat, smoothing down his vest with a rough hand.

  "Oh, Princess," he said, his voice dropping several octaves to a gruff but undeniably respectful rumble. He offered a stiff, awkward bow. "Welcome, welcome. What brings you down to the archives today?"

  He straightened up, shooting a quick, venomous glare over Samira's shoulder at Zhu.

  "And no," he spat, pointing an accusatory finger at the War Empress. "We do not know each other. I refuse to be grouped with this explosive firecracker. We simply share a... unfortunate history of collision."

  "Look," Zhu began, her voice losing some of its mockery, replaced by a sharper, more business-like edge. She stepped forward, ignoring his finger. "I don't want to work with you as much as you don't want to work with me. But you clearly found something here." Her eyes gleamed with a predatory interest. "So I want in. How's that?"

  Tanvir stared at her, his thick brows knitting together into a single, formidable line. He grunted, the sound heavy with reluctance.

  "Hmmph," he exhaled sharply through his nose. "Fine. Suit yourself." He jabbed a finger at her again, this time with less rage and more warning. "But try not to ruin decades of work with your explosiveness. I do not want your 'destroy stuff first, regret later' attitude anywhere near our discovery."

  Zhu gave a single, curt nod. "Understood."

  "Good," Tanvir grunted. He cleared his throat again, a rough, gravelly sound, and turned his attention to the two younger travelers. His demeanor shifted instantly, the hostility draining away to reveal a surprising, gruff politeness.

  "Pardon my outburst," he said, adjusting his belt. "My name is Tanvir Khan. Owner and Museum Director of this fine building."

  He extended a hand towards Raito first, the movement quick and decisive. "Nice to meet you two. Especially you."

  "Me?" Raito blinked, a little confused by the specific attention, but he took the offered hand. Tanvir’s grip was like a vice made of warm leather. "Er... I guess nice to meet you too?"

  Tanvir gave Raito's hand a firm, single shake before releasing it and turning immediately to Yukari. He took her hand in both of his, his rough palms surprisingly gentle.

  "Oh, a hand of a scholar," he murmured, inspecting her fingers with a knowing nod. "You have a bright future ahead of you, miss." He shot a quick, meaningful glance over his shoulder at Zhu. "As long as you stay away far from that explosive over there."

  "Mind your own business," Zhu snapped from the background.

  Tanvir ignored her completely, his focus solely on Yukari. "Be more like your father," he pleaded, his voice dropping to a sincere, almost reverent tone. "Please, from the bottom of my heart."

  Yukari stiffened. Her breath hitched in her throat. "Wait," she whispered. "You know my father?"

  "Of course!" Tanvir exclaimed, releasing her hand to gesture grandly at the stone walls around them. "Where do you think we are? This is Zarateph, miss! The central hub of adventurers! The beating heart of exploration!"

  He shook his head, his expression turning somber. "Of course everyone knows the famous Harrison Aster. It's a shame that we lost someone as bright and with as much potential as he had. My condolences."

  He grabbed her hand again, shaking it vigorously once more, his eyes full of genuine sympathy. "If there is anything you need—anything at all—feel free to ask me," he declared, puffing out his chest. He jerked a thumb back at Zhu, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth beneath his beard. "I am certainly more helpful than that red one over there."

  "Then..." Yukari’s voice trembled, a hairline fracture in her composure. She took a step closer to the broad, bearded man, her hands clenching at her sides. "Can you tell me where my father was last seen? What he was doing here? What he was looking for?" The questions tumbled out, desperate and raw. "Anything. Please."

  Her face was a mask of untold anguish, the cool composure of the scholar stripped away to reveal the grieving daughter beneath.

  Tanvir’s expression softened, the gruff lines around his eyes deepening with sympathy. He reached out, intending to place a comforting hand on her shoulder, but paused mid-air. He was, simply put, too short. His hand hovered awkwardly near her elbow. He cleared his throat, retracting the hand and hooking his thumb into his belt instead.

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  "Calm down, kid," he said, his voice a low, gravelly rumble meant to soothe. "Unfortunately, that I can't answer right now." He shook his head, his heavy beard swaying. "Even with Harrison being as famous as he was... we don't really know what he was doing here. Adventurers don't really pry into each other's business. It's an unwritten rule. A code."

  Yukari’s shoulders slumped, the hope draining from her eyes.

  "However," Tanvir continued, his tone firming up. He looked her dead in the eye. "I will try my best to find out. I'll ask around. I already told you I will help you with anything you need, and I will fulfill it. Got it, kid?"

  Yukari stared at him for a moment, then nodded, a jerky, mechanical motion. She turned away, retreating to Raito’s side as if seeking shelter from a storm.

  Raito didn't say a word. He simply wrapped his arm around her, pulling her close, his warmth a silent anchor in the drafty hall.

  Tanvir watched them for a second, a flicker of sadness in his eyes, before shaking himself off. He turned to the redhead bouncing on her heels.

  "So, Princess," he asked, his voice returning to its professional tone. "What business do you have here?"

  "Oh, just a quick meeting with Mother and Malik would be great, Uncle Tanvir!" Samira chirped, her cheerfulness undimmed.

  "Sure, sure," Tanvir waved a hand. "The Queen and the brat Malik are downstairs along with the others." He gestured toward the dark stairwell behind him. "I'll guide you lot."

  He took a step, then stopped and pivoted to face Zhu Lihua. "And you," he said. "All the information about our discovery is down there too. Make sure you pay close attention."

  Zhu gave a single, sharp nod.

  "Right then." Tanvir turned back to the stairs, his heavy boots clanking against the stone as he began the descent into the lower level of the museum. "Follow me."

  The group followed closely behind, leaving the stagnant air of the upper hall for the deeper, cooler darkness below.

  The staircase descended straight into the earth, the walls lined with sputtering oil lanterns that cast long, dancing shadows. The air grew warmer here, humming with a low, constant vibration.

  They reached the bottom, facing a single, heavy wooden door.

  "We're here," Tanvir said, his hand resting on the iron handle. He looked back at them, his expression grim. "Be ready. Beyond here is a battlefield."

  He threw the door open.

  A wave of noise washed over them, instantly drowning out the quiet of the stairwell. It was a cacophony of shouting, arguing, and the rustle of heavy paper.

  "This structure is roughly 1000 years old!" an old man's voice screeched from somewhere in the center of the room.

  "No way, you old coot!" another voice shot back, sharp and dismissive. "Look at the design! The angles! It has to be recent! Or maybe it came from the future! Time travel, maybe?"

  "Time travel?! What kind of fairy tale did you crawl out of?!" a third scholar bellowed, slamming a hand onto a table. "There is no way! It has to be from an ancient civilization!"

  The room was massive, a subterranean hall filled with dozens of people clad in identical, dusty brown robes. They were huddled around a massive central table like vultures over a carcass. Behind them, a chalkboard that spanned the entire back wall was covered in frantic scrawls and diagrams. Sketches and pictures of a metallic, white-silver structure, half-buried in sand, were pinned haphazardly across the board. Words like Unknown Civilization?, Future Tech?, and Outworlder? were circled heavily in chalk.

  At the head of the table, overlooking the chaos with the patience of a saint, sat a woman. She had rich brunette hair and a regal bearing that seemed to create a bubble of calm around her chair.

  "Ah... Mother! Hello!" Samira shouted over the din, waving enthusiastically.

  "Did we interrupt something?" Yukari whispered to Tanvir, eyeing the shouting scholars warily.

  "Gahaha!" Tanvir laughed, a booming sound that fit right in. "Nothing out of the ordinary, kids! These archeological scholars are just trying to figure out where our little discovery came from. Our team is very passionate, so the discussion can be a little heated." He grinned. "But don't worry. We all share the same goal."

  "A council of nerds," Raito whispered under his breath.

  Yukari glared at him, her elbow poised to strike.

  "Sorry," Raito apologized quickly, raising his hands in surrender.

  At the head of the table, the regal woman sighed. She rubbed her temples, whispering something to herself about her aching head. Then, she stood up.

  "HEY! HEY!"

  Her voice wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable authority that cut through the shouting match instantly. The room fell silent.

  "This is getting nowhere!" she declared, her gaze sweeping over the chastised scholars. "Let's take a break. Cool your heads. Then come back here with a cohesive theory, not fairy tales!"

  The scholars nodded sheepishly, mumbling apologies as they retreated to their corners to nurse their bruised egos and re-examine their notes.

  The woman smoothed her skirts and walked toward the group near the door. Her expression softened as she saw the redhead.

  "Samira, what brings you here?" she asked, opening her arms.

  "Mother!" Samira cried, rushing forward to hug her. "Uncle Bob came back! And these are his guests!" She gestured grandly towards the group.

  "Oh, how lovely," the Queen said, her warm brown eyes scanning Raito, Yukari, Zhu, and Mila. "I guess that is another urgent matter I have to attend to."

  She smiled, a gentle, teasing expression. "I don't want Bob to spoil you rotten with his gifts. He can get a little... overbearing sometimes." She looked past them to Mila. "Isn't that right, Mila?"

  Mila bowed slightly, her face flushing. "I apologize for Master's behavior."

  "Don't be," the Queen chuckled. "Bob is Bob. He is a grown man, not your responsibility." She shook her head fondly. "But those two brothers are definitely alike."

  She gently disentangled herself from Samira's hug and stepped forward, performing a perfect, elegant curtsy.

  "My name is Aleena Said," she introduced herself, her manners impeccable. "Queen of Zarateph, and the one in charge of this gathering of scholars. Very pleased to meet you."

  "The War Empress of Ruhong and the infamous runaways Bob always wrote about in his letters," Aleena mused, her gaze lingering on each of them with a sharp, assessing intelligence that seemed to peel back their layers. "What an interesting combination."

  She tilted her head slightly, her expression unreadable. "I can assume that you all are not here because of a little wedding," she said, hitting the mark with the precision of an archer.

  "Not in allegiance with that place anymore," Zhu Lihua started, her arms crossing over her chest as she met the Queen's gaze. "And you would be correct about why I am here."

  Zhu studied the Queen, a flicker of respect sparking in her eyes. "I guess being called the brain behind Zarateph's unyielding political structure is not just for show. There is an air of cleverness around you," Zhu commented, her tone appreciative.

  Aleena offered a modest, yet knowing smile. "Well, my husband isn't really the lying type. He wears his heart on his sleeve," she said smoothly. "So someone has to take the more cunning role."

  She took a step closer to Zhu, her voice lowering into a professional offer. "And if you truly have no allegiance anymore... maybe you can come work for us?" She didn't miss a beat, seizing the opportunity. "Zarateph could always use a warrior of your caliber."

  The two women stared at each other, a silent exchange of mutual respect passing between them—two powerful figures recognizing the strength in the other.

  "Not interested," Zhu said finally, though her tone was polite. "There are more pressing matters right now."

  "I guess you are right," the Queen sighed, her gaze flickering back over her shoulder to the chalkboard covered in question marks.

  "And we are simply here to have a vacation," Yukari interjected, stepping forward and bowing alongside Raito.

  "Vacation?" Aleena blinked, genuinely surprised. "My, that is new. Usually, people come here for fame, riches, or to immerse themselves in buried knowledge." She looked them over again, amusement dancing in her eyes. "As unpredictable as what Bob describes."

  "Right?" Samira chimed in, popping up beside her mother, radiating mischievous energy. "They are interesting!" She turned her gaze to Raito, batting her eyelashes. "And he is cute."

  "Samira..." Aleena’s voice dropped to a scolding, maternal tone, her brow arching. "Dear, flirting with another man while being engaged is very uncouth. Please refrain yourself."

  Samira’s face fell into a dramatic pout. "Sorry, Mother."

  Yukari couldn't help herself. She let out a short, sharp giggle. Catching Samira’s eye, she stuck her tongue out in a quick, childish gesture of mockery.

  "Linlin," Zhu warned, her voice a low rumble.

  "Sorry," Yukari muttered, straightening up instantly, though the ghost of a smirk remained.

  "Well, welcome," Aleena said, clapping her hands gently to dispel the tension. "And I hope this region can give you two the vacation and entertainment that you need."

  Samira looked around the cavernous room, her gaze searching the shadows between the stacks of ancient texts and strange machinery. "Mother, where is Malik, by the way?"

  Aleena paused, looking around as well. Her brow furrowed. "Huh. Oh. That's weird. He should be here," she wondered aloud, her voice tinged with confusion. "Where could that boy have gone?"

  "SORRY! SORRY! COMING THROUGH! SORRY!"

  A shrieking voice, high-pitched and frantic, echoed from the back of the room. A figure burst from behind a towering stack of crates, sprinting blindly past the huddled scholars. He was carrying a stack of heavy leather-bound books that reached well above his head, obscuring his vision entirely.

  His foot caught on a loose paving stone.

  "Whoa!"

  The man went flying. The books launched into the air like startled birds. Some spun harmlessly into the shadows, but several heavy tomes flew directly towards Raito and Yukari with the grace of falling bricks.

  Yukari reacted instantly. With the fluid grace of a dancer, she snatched two flying books out of the air before they could make impact, her movements precise and calm.

  Raito was not so lucky.

  Thwack.

  "Ouch!"

  A heavy volume smacked him squarely on the forehead. He stumbled back, tripped over his own feet, and crashed to the ground right next to the man who had started the chaos, tangling in a heap of limbs and paper.

  They both scrambled to their feet, groaning and rubbing their heads in unison.

  "Ow, ow, ow..." they muttered together.

  "I'm so sorry!" the man stammered, frantically adjusting his glasses which hung askew on his nose.

  "It's not your fault," Raito said, wincing as he rubbed the growing lump on his head. He looked at the stranger, offering what he thought was a helpful piece of advice, though his throbbing head made his tone flat and ominous. "But be careful... if you don't want to be killed."

  "Hieeee!"

  The man let out a terrified squeak. He scrambled backward, crab-walking away until he hit the corner of the room, where he curled into a ball, shaking like a leaf in a gale.

  He was a skinny, lanky man with a mop of fuzzy, chestnut-colored hair that looked like it had never seen a comb. His glasses were so thick they magnified his eyes into giant, fearful orbs, completely obscuring any expression other than pure panic.

  Raito blinked, looking at the cowering man and then at his own hands. "Did I say something wrong?" he asked, genuinely baffled. He looked around the room for support, but found only confused stares.

  Yukari didn't say a word. She simply walked up behind him, grabbed the back of his head, and forced him into a deep bow.

  "Sorry!" she apologized loudly to the room at large. Then, she leaned in close to Raito's ear, her voice a harsh whisper. "Why are you threatening to kill someone you just met?! Are you alright?"

  "When did I say that?!" Raito whispered back, his voice laced with confusion. "I just meant he should be careful or he might get hurt!"

  "Malik! Are you alright?" Samira rushed past them, kneeling beside the fuzzy-haired man and helping him dust off his clothes. She murmured soothing words, trying to coax him out of his corner.

  Across the room, Tanvir watched the scene unfold, his arms crossed over his barrel chest. His expression was grave. He turned to Zhu Lihua.

  "When did this start?" he asked, his voice low.

  Zhu sighed, watching her stepdaughter wrestle Raito into a proper apology. "A few days ago," she answered quietly. "And the worst thing is... the boy doesn't seem to know."

  "Then time is of the essence," Tanvir grunted, his gaze fixed on Raito's confused face. "He is more of a danger to those around him than he realizes."