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Novelux The Museum of Everlasting Brilliance

Dave nodded along, raising an eyebrow. "About what I figured. Well, your secret's safe with me. Hope they've left you alone since."

Still, selling weed - formerly selling weed - didn't exactly make for the sort of big notworthy stuff a lot of Wayfarers were involved in, unless the gang not liking it was a hell of an understatement. Not probing if he didn't want to talk about it.
 
"Yeah, I've been fine. I don't even live anywhere near them anymore."

While trying to think of a way to change the subject, Andre realized he'd gotten rather hungry. "Say, it's been a while since I ate," he started. "Would you like to get a bite to eat? There's got to be someplace nearby that serves food."
 
Yeah, nope, he didn't want to talk about it. Fair enough. None of his business.

He took a breath. "Sure, bite to eat sounds fine. I saw a decent-looking place a couple streets away on the way to the museum."

Andre seemed like an okay kid. Smart, head screwed on straight, little awkward. Dave made a mental note to see if other Wayfarers seemed that normal.

For now, the only concern was food.

<><><><><>​
 
Ch07: Geological Intrigue
Oresday, 30th Spirits

As advertised in the papers, Uncanny Antiquities: an Exhibition of Mystery Mineralogy was now open to the public of Novelux, on display at the Museum of Everlasting brilliance. The entrance hall and the west half of the first floor was decorated with banners displaying both the logo for the Alexadrian Geologic Society, as well as Magna University.

But of course, the real eye-catcher was the numerous glass display cases featuring all manner of mineral oddities. From elemental stones to wonder orbs, strange fossils to petrified seeds, unearthed from dungeons where they'd taken on unique properties. Glittering clumps of dungeon dust in varying stages of morphing into a remarkable facsimile for Commonweath dollars and Protectorate bullion.

The exhibit's grand unveiling would no-doubt attract all manner of mineral and relic aficionados from all over the city.
 
Steven arrived in Novelux with wide eyes, which only got wider when he found the building that matched the one depicted on the pamphlet clutched in his claw. Everlasting Brilliance indeed...

He glided through the museum's doors, taking it all in. It wasn't that he was unfamiliar with such extravagance, but it was so a different from anything in Frontier Town, even making the Mayor's manor where he'd been working look drab in comparison. Funny, how used to it he'd gotten.

And then his eyes landed on the display cases, and he felt all the stress of the last few weeks melt away. Samples of rocks and minerals, fossils, dungeon items and more; this was heaven. He tucked the pamphlet into his bracer pocket and gave a contented sigh. Yes, perhaps Lucien had been right. This was the break he needed.

(He could tell the Prinplup would be alright in his absence, as it was Lucien himself who had deposited the rock and mineral exhibition pamphlet on Steven's desk with a knowing smile.)

Well, if Lucien wanted him to relax, then who was he to go against the wishes of the interim mayor?

With a self-satisfied hum, Steven drifted into the row of displays, muttering to himself. "Oh, now that's an unusual color of sandstone..."
 
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Laura had plenty of leeway where her job was concerned. So long as she put articles together and fed the Gazette information about Wayfarer goings-on, Nathaniel was happy to let her spend her days out of the office. Right now, she was 'reporting' on the Uncanny Antiquities exhibition – there were a fair few 'mon back in Frontier Town who'd become avid readers of any column on Mystery Dungeons and anything relating to them. Such as this display of dungeon-sourced minerals with altered visual properties—

"Steven!"

The mineral collection in front of her was a living Metang, one she hadn't seen since before the Novelux expedition. Not so long ago, really, but it sure felt that way.

"It's good to see you," she said, with a smile. Somehow she got the unaccountable feeling she shouldn't be surprised to see Steven perusing a rock collection. Why was that? Weird.

"You taking a break, or being made to?" she asked, right in there with a question, as was becoming her habit. Call it journalistic impulse.
 
Steven peeked up from the display he'd been studying when he heard someone call his name.

Standing beside the glass case which housed a dungeon orb that seemingly had been formed of two different materials along a bisecting fault, was a familiar face.

"Laura, hello!" he chimed in greeting. "It's good to see you too, though perhaps a bit of a surprise. I didn't get the impression there were other Wayfarers interested in this sort of thing."

He tipped a claw towards the exhibits, before raising it to his temple with a nervous tap-tap at Laura's question.

"I guess it wouldn't escape notice how busy I've been as of late," he said with a sheepish smile. "Consider it a little of both. And Lucien has been working on his diplomatic persuasion as of late. Not that it took much to sway me to come to a exhibition like this."

He eyed her curiously. "Does that mean you're here for pleasure as well?"
 
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Laura shrugged, and smiled a little sheepishly. "I'm interested in mystery dungeons, and I always kinda liked, y'know, semiprecious stones and that sort of thing. Liked the idea of having an elemental stone collection. I won't pretend to have learned enough about it to talk shop with someone who knows what they're on about, though."

She raised her notepad and gave it a little wiggle.

"I'm totally here for business," she said, with obvious irony. "Definitely doing real Gazette work and not just getting away from things for a bit."

Laura pocketed the pad, and glanced back at the displays. She pulled one of her own orbs and held it up to the light, comparing its sheen and hue with the ones in the glass case in front of her. Subtly different. Yet, the same.

"For real, though, I think what gets me the most about this stuff is how it's not just random entropy or whatever. The fact so much of this stuff has a useful function implies purpose, even some kind of consciousness. Whenever we learn stufff about the world spirit, or whatever, I can't help but, y'know, buy into it? In a serious way, not just a 'healing crystals and astrology' dumb teenager way..."

She laughed awkwardly, feeling stupid. Depending on their home world, a randomly selected Wayfarer was as likely to say 'don't be stupid, we live in a rational universe and mystery dungeons are a mass hallucination', or 'don't be stupid, I've personally met God and she read me my horoscope'. At least Steven was an agreeable, mellow sort of bloke, right?
 
A noticeable crowd had gathered around one display in particular—which was saying something considering that whole exhibit was full of patrons. It wasn’t hard to see why this display had drawn a crowd though, given that the item in question was taller than most of the gathered mon. A huge slab of patterned sandstone, marked with regular discolored indentations.

Standing at the back of the crowd was one dark-leaved Grovyle in a weathered longcoat.
 
Steven gave a good-natured laugh as Laura pocketed her notepad. "And here I was worried I'd have to give an interview while on vacation." He laughed again, shaking his head, before muttering slightly, "Wouldn't be the first time."

He followed Laura's inspection of the orbs as she spoke. His expression only furrowed slightly at mention of 'purpose' and 'consciousness', but he didn't interrupt. Instead he tapped a claw to his chin, and nodded. The way she talked, it was clear there was more to her intrigue than collecting shiny things, which he appreciated.

"It's alright, I can't claim to talk shop about such things like dungeon items, either. Your guess is as good as mine when it comes to how this world imbues power to such objects. It's not like we can simply use our own presuppositions to learn how an entirely new world works."

He fixed Laura with a genuine smile. "You've got the right idea though. It's only natural to be curious about this kind of phenomena, and I admit while it's not my primary interest in coming here, there's a certain fascination with learning something new and truly mysterious."

His gaze swept from the case with the orbs to some samples of rocks that held crystalline forms within their layers.

"I think what interests me most is the story any given rock can tell. Their formation came about from a very specific set of circumstances. Random in the big picture, that it happened in that particular place over the course of hundreds of millions of years, or maybe it was a single, sudden event. And even more random that it's been exposed for us to observe and collect. But the feeling of holding the entire history of its life in your hands, being able to look back in time further than the pages of any history book, it's--"

Steven suddenly stopped short, realizing that Laura's idea of a relaxing get away was probably not listening to him ramble on about rocks. He fidgeted with the notch on one claw before apologizing.

"Ah, sorry about that." He swept one claw forward gesturing towards the rest of the exhibit. "Perhaps we can walk and talk? There's plenty more of the exhibition to see, although I wonder what's drawn so much attention--"

As Steven followed the murmur of the crowd towards an odd-looking slab of sandstone, he stopped short for a second time. The figure standing with his back to them... He knew that Grovyle. And he knew what they'd done.

Steven grated out a sound like he was clearing his throat and sent a narrow-eyed stare at Ralsen's back. "So, should I alert museum security, or do you only prefer to help yourself to relics when they're in our possession?"
 
The Grovyle turned at Steven's words, eyes alight with curiosity. "Ah, Steven. And Laura." He nodded to the both of them. "So your journeys have brought you to the east—I was wondering if we'd end up crossing paths again." From his tone, he sounded genuinely pleased.

Ralsen threw a glance over his shoulder at the sandstone xenolith, tapping a claw on his arm. "I don't believe that relic is related to my quest. And if my superiors had any interest in it, I doubt they'd use me when they could simply loan it from the university." He brought a claw to his coat collar, where a university ID badge was clipped.

Ralsen crossed his arms behind his back. "But, I realize that you have every reason to doubt my words—you're welcome to keep a watchful eye if you prefer."
 
What university? Catch it—

Laura collected herself, feeling her tail rebel in irregular twitches. This wasn't a fight. This was an opportunity for dialogue – with only (relatively) level heads in the room. Okay.

"Ralsen. So, you're here for pleasure?" she asked, borrowing Steven's line. Hopefully signalling to the Metang that she meant to keep this conversational. "We've recently had some run-ins with other individuals working for your superiors. You wouldn't happen to be here with a Matthias, would you?"

She glanced at the 'relic', and the plaque by the display...

"PATTERNED XENOLITH" (Specimen #847)
On loan from Alexandria State College

Acquired in 179 CE from Aegis Watch Rift in western Auranosa, this remarkable rock formation is of indeterminate mineralogical composition, taking the form of an irregular monolith of at most 14 inches to a side. Its surface bears precisely arranged indentations, appearing as seven circular depressions no larger than a shirt-button. These depressions form a geometric pattern suggesting deliberate arrangement, though whether by a thinking 'mon's paw or natural process remains unknown.

The uncanny features of the Xenolith, so-called because its appearance and properties in no way match the sedimentary rocks of its original location, include imperviousness to any kind of kinetic or thermal energy. In other words, it cannot be chipped or shattered, and it maintains a constant temperature of 67°F regardless of ambient conditions! Be warned, the Xenolith has also been known to interfere with chronometry – check your pocketwatch before you leave; you may find that it's running a little slow!
 
Steven's stern expression held firm through Ralsen's pleasantries, at least until the Grovyle gestured to his badge.

"A fair point," he said, acquiescing. He had no desire to start anything with Ralsen, especially not here with so many display cases and precious samples around. And Laura kept a diplomatic air about her, even if Steven was curious who this Matthias fellow was. He could follow suit.

"Still," he said, addressing Ralsen, "you say it doesn't interest your superiors, yet you're here all the same. What exactly are we looking... at...?"

As Laura inspected the plaque, Steven's gaze was drawn to the slab itself, and he felt his metaphorical blood run cold.

He knew exactly what they were looking at, but he wasn't sure how. That was a lie. He knew how, the slab, the glyphs, the cavern of ice and rock and steel, he just didn't know how it was here.

"Laura."

Steven's voice was strained. He placed a claw gently against her arm, trying to suppress an involuntary shiver.

"Laura."

One digit of his other hand ticked out an invisible rhythm-- ancient words of an ancient language-- his gaze still locked, wide-eyed, on the slab in front of them.

"I've seen these glyphs before."
 
Laura frowned at the plaque, and at the stone itself – with properties like that, Ralsen was probably right to call it a Relic. What Saint would leave a remnant like this?

"I've seen these glyphs before."

Laura reflexively put her paw to Steven's limb in reassurance. He sounded frightened, somehow. For a second, her hackles went up, but no – there was no threat here. It was something in Steven's memory. Something he experienced before...

"It's inert," she said, keeping her tone neutral. "It's been a catalogued specimen for... about two years."

The word choice was deliberate – Steven was obviously a minerology guy. Make it familiar, make it academic, and it would become safe.

She glanced back at Ralsen. No, he wasn't with Matthias, okay. "What's your interest, then?" she asked, one ear twitching. "Ah, you're genuinely into Saints and such, right? I'd love to know if there's an agenda there, or if you're just a mythology geek."

She wondered idly if Ralsen knew more about whatever happened five thousand years ago than they did.
 
Steven continued to stare at the xenolith, transfixed. Ralsen, the museum, the crowds, it was all background noise. In his tunnel vision, it was just him, the glyphs, and growing chill that seemed to settle in his very soul.

A voice echoed in his mind from somewhere far away; too far to tell who it belonged to.

A memory of the doorway in the dark tunnel before he woke up here, in Forlas.

your soul bears some indicators of one who has... already begun to die.

His free arm twitched, like he wanted to reach out and touch the slab, but a sudden warmth on his other arm stopped him.

Laura. She was saying something. He blinked, finally breaking eye contact with the xenolith, and turned his haunted gaze to her.

"They were inert in my world, too," he croaked. "Until I woke them up."
 
Ralsen glanced at Laura, his expression hard to make out. "Matthias... I'm familiar with the name, though I've never worked with him personally. I heard that his latest operation was unsuccessful—I take it that was your group's doing?" His tone was light, casual... he didn't seem too invested in other agents' successes.

But when Steven said it—that he'd seen these glyphs before—Ralsen's eyes lit up. "Have you, now?" He turned back to gaze at the stone, eyes running along its surface, taking in the details.

"From what I've gathered, though we all came here from different worlds, there are certain common similarities... recurring locations, regions. I've seen markings like those in books I read long ago, though I never studied them in detail. Perhaps I should ha—"

"They were inert in my world, too," he croaked. "Until I woke them up."

Ralsen's gaze slid back to Steven, surprise and intrigue flickering across his features, along with... contemplation. Brow furrowed ever so slightly as he attempted to puzzle things out.
 
This was dangerous territory. Steven knew exactly the kind of person Ralsen was. A legend seeker who worked in the shadows, who had no qualms about deception and dishonesty. Yet he couldn't stop the words from tumbling out.

"The Regi titans. Legendary elemental golems that slumbered for thousands of years, locked away in tombs by an ancient people that feared their power. I discovered their resting places on accident, and what started as simple curiosity became full-fledged interest. Deciphering the glyphs became a hobby of mine. Piece by piece, I learned about the ancient rite that sealed them... And how to undo it."

Steven knit his claws together, eyes furrowing in concentration.

"Do you remember when we first met, back at the Sanctum of Wishes, when I told you I was left with no choice?"

Rain slowing to a light patter. Clouds parting to reveal dawn light. And all he could remember was cold. He was so, so cold.

The memories came with brutal clarity this time. He was sure of it now. This time he couldn't hold back the shiver.

"I unsealed the Regis to save my region. It worked. But it cost me my life."
 
"Cost you... your life."

It was as though the rest of the museum hall had stopped existing. The crowds, the polished display pieces. Just the three of them, and the sandstone xenolith, and the lingering implication of Steven's words.

Ralsen's eyes stared straight through Steven, searching. Like uncovering the pieces of a puzzle, buried in the sand. "How do you know this?"

Something in Steven's eyes, his voice, was saying that he'd only put together this revelation recently. So then, how...
 
Laura's eyes flicked between Steven and Ralsen, focusing, reading. Was this even a safe topic? She could bail out. Take charge of Steven...

No, no. She'd talk through this. Learn something, maybe.

"You didn't remember, before," she said, filling in. "But you remember now. Seeing the pattern on the Relic was a trigger..."

Many Wayfarers remembered their most recent weeks or months only hazily. She herself was still getting drips and scraps of memory from the latter stretch of her journey back home. But cost him his life, what did that mean? How—?

"You got hurt," she continued, softly. "The last thing you remember is... expecting to die, or being about to." She swallowed. "It doesn't mean— It, it's not a guarantee. You could survive."

Right?
 
"No... I..." Steven's gaze darted to the side. Laura and Ralsen were staring at him, of course they would be. Asking how he knew-- he just... knew! How does one explain the dreadful realization of a soul that lost its vessel?

What Betel had said when he asked if it were possible...

He wrung his claws together, still unable to meet either companions' gaze. "You're right, Laura, I wasn't sure. And maybe I'm not, even still. But... There's no other explanation."

His eyes flicked up to the xenolith briefly, more focused than he'd been the entire conversation.

"I knew the risk. It was written in the glyphs. The seal required a living conduit for the ritual--"

He gestured sharply at the words to emphasize his point, before realizing what he was saying. What he was spelling out. Hesitantly, he peeked at Ralsen, hoping he was just imagining things, and the Grovyle's expression wasn't akin to a hungry Mightyena eyeing its next meal.

Steven seemed to deflate, slumping forward, his arms hanging limp. "I know because of the Relic, the one you tried to steal. I had asked to examine it, when we were conducting research on its powers and..."

"I had a vision. More like, a memory. At least it felt like a memory. Of my deceased mother. She was speaking to me, like I was... Like I was dead, too."

He gave a listless motion, like a shrug without any emotion behind it, and stared at the floor.

"Putting it all together with this, and... I don't know how else to explain it."
 
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