act35side

In the stuffy summer heat, a girl sits at her desk, one hand sorting through a thick stack of reference materials while the other wipes sweat from her forehead.

She hears footsteps behind her but doesn't bother to turn around.

There are almonds on the desk, but he already knows.

Why are you still reading, my dear sister?

It's such a fine and sunny afternoon, my dear sister! Let's go play outside!

You don't plan to sit with your nose in those dusty papyrus scrolls your entire life do you, my dear sister?

I talked to Father, my dear sister. He said he would consider making me the Historian of Shar-Agade.

Being a padishah isn't so bad, my dear sister. So just give up already.

Enough! Stop bothering me, you little pest!

She quickly turns her head, but there is nobody behind her...

Only the scroll she tossed at her brother, sprawled out on the floor.

Are you there, Pepe? Quick, let me in!

I'm here, come in.

I've been sending you messages on the communicator. Why didn't you respond?

I turned it off. I've been looking at books and scrolls all night. What happened?

A <i>lot</i> happened last night. Did you seriously not hear a thing holed up in here?

Nope. Didn't hear a peep.

You sealing yourself away to work is really...

Forget it, I don't even know where to start.

Just hear it yourself.

Emergencies across multiple districts of Menat.

Many metallic humanoid constructs have broken into homes and stolen large quantities of gems.

Residents have reported these robberies to the city guard, and the captain assures us that an investigation is currently underway.

Metallic humanoid constructs...?

According to an eyewitness, he saw these metallic constructs breaking out from the museum last night...

What?!

Well... Everything I wanted to say, the radio already said.

Anat says the museum staff followed their tracks and ended up at the Grand Bazaar.

Is this Zubayr's doing?

We suspect so, but nobody's seen him at all lately. You were in contact with him the longest. Could you help us look for him?

Got it. I'll head over right away.

What about you and Anat?

We're in charge of the museum, we have to find all the artifacts.

We're going to head out and have a look ourselves.

If I find anything, I'll let you two know. Be seeing you.

Phew...

Err, hold on, we interrupt this program for some breaking news.

Residents have noticed the water coming out of their taps is muddy and full of silt.

The city guard reports that they have dispatched emergency teams to inspect the city's old underground water pipes. Due to their complexity, this process will take some time...

Just what is going on here?

Someone has already told me the tale of this place.

The prosperity of the Grand Bazaar is borne upon gems, alongside spices, silks, and crafts, all flowing through the river of commerce to bestow riches upon this land.

The gem trading post and the gems with unusual Originium circuits have transformed Menat-Ha'mait into a morning star on the crown of sand...

Several houses begin to turn into sand. People throw open their windows or rush out their doors, staring in disbelief at the ancient buildings they have lived in for generations, and then at Zubayr, who stands in the middle of the street.

But Zubayr pays them no heed.

He stoops down and picks up a piece of jewelry from the pooling sands, its gem glinting within the metallic helix structure under the sun.

The fresco you mentioned is straight ahead, Zubayr Effendi.

My mother's father once told me that the painting depicts the lives of ancient Sargonians and records the birth of Menat-Ha'mait.

'Even if the river dries, and the city is buried beneath the sands, it will not fade.'

...'Will not fade', indeed. Just like every gem that has passed your hand and mine.

But it was neither dried river nor burial by sand that brought calamity to the city of yore.

But a flood that destroyed even the peaks of the grand edifices. What remained of their splendor was eventually buried by the sands, becoming a secret of a thousand years.

Each rise of the sun and fall of the moons is a tiny repeat of the endless cycle.

The brevity of a day and the span of a lifetime...

The birth of a new city, the fall of an empire, and mountains to dust, are but all similar repetitions.

Effendi, if I may. I believe that while the fresco captures only a fleeting moment from centuries past, its value lies in that this moment will be repeated countless times to its beholders.

The Shah ordered this fresco made not to ensure his name would be remembered throughout history.

He hoped to leave behind his interpretations of time and life. To serve as a foundation that the people yet to come could imitate.

Here did the Shah of Past and Future build his trove, and so it was that during the long Aslan Wars, which raged after his death, countless lords ameer coveted this place.

Until the hellish heat waves from the far south brought great change to the climate. A devastating flood ensued, toppling walls, diverting rivers, and leaving the land forever scarred.

And so the people searched the sands for traces of the trove, but found nothing. Thus did they believe it was washed away in the deluge.

The treasure hunters of the lords ameer left, but the artisans and merchants came, establishing a new settlement by the riverside.

I have been watchful of all that transpires here.

I was ordered to guard the trove. That is my duty.

I dwelled beneath the sands, fending off miscreants who dared approach for countless moons.

As for you, young one, you should know better than any other: the Shah's treasure trove lies beneath this city.

'Fourth, the liver. We go into the night, awake and alert, for duty and obligation.' ...I thank you for returning this gem to me. It has restored more of my memories.

The treasure trove started with tens of thousands of skilled craftsmen gathering at the then-desolate Menat-Ha'mait.

From majestic labyrinths made of gold to hand-crafted gems inlaid with Originium circuits, the artificers created them all and buried them beneath the sands.

Later generations mostly believed that after exhausting all their energies on their work, these artisans were all buried alongside their creations.

But in truth, some still lived in a secluded village to the southwest of Menat-Ha'mait, and for many generations, they guarded the secret of the trove's entrance.

It is now your turn to speak, young one.

What follows next involves the story of your family.

The young overseer shuts his eyes tight, as though drowning in the heavy sands of memory.

The tale has been passed down from generation to generation, seared into the mind like the scorching sun above the desert.

Its heat burning, singeing, and blistering.

Three hundred years ago, an army comprised of the forces of many lords ameer and padishahs found that village.

They interrogated the villagers on the location of the trove's entrance, cutting the hands off of anyone who refused to speak.

A gemwright who had already lost his hands could no longer bear to see more of his kin suffer, so he approached the army and proposed to lead the way.

Before the trove, he watched the terrible battle between the army and its guardian unfold. He saw that though the guardian was defeated, the gates would not open without his Arts.

The furious army cut open the guardian's chest, plundering every gem inlaid within and without his body.

Although the gemwright used every technique he knew to guide his young child in restoring the guardian, he never woke up.

After that, a set of scales was set up in the Grand Bazaar of Menat-Ha'mait. Once an adult, the gemwright's child buried the guardian, then established a trading post specializing in gems.

His descendants have been waiting there ever since.

Every generation did all they could to ensure Menat-Ha'mait's gem trade would become even more prosperous.

Whether it takes a hundred years or a thousand, the day will come when the people scour the sands of Sargon, and all the gems will gather in this city once more...

...And I shall return them to you.

The overseer dares not open his eyes as he feels Zubayr's sistrum press upon his chest.

Yet, visions of centuries passing flash before him in an instant.

He witnesses suns rise and moons fall, cities flourish and then crumble, returning to the sands from which they came.

He sees the ancient guardian walking in the boundless desert.

The guardian spreads his arms, basking in the light of the stars, facing eastwards to welcome the sunrise.

Feeling watched, the guardian looks down and meets the young overseer's eyes.

Under his merciful gaze, the overseer trembles.

He trembles in anticipation of the momentous words the guardian is about to utter.

Your family's journey for penitence has been long indeed...

You are all free now.

It has been quite a while, you two.

Many centuries have I forgotten my duty, but now I return to the mortal realm. I, alongside this city, shall make up for the time we have squandered.

But at the same time, I have a request, and I hope the two of you will agree to see it through.