Chapter 34 — The Last Seed Keeper

Dai Van Cuong invited the group to stay overnight, a proposal Bach Lam considered carefully before accepting—not because of a lack of trust in the old man, but because the principle of caution had been ingrained in his instincts after ten years of surviving in Dong Tro.

"We will split the guard shifts as usual," he said to Ngan The Binh, as the two discussed privately while Dai Van Cuong was preparing more water for a simple dinner. "Not because I doubt him, but because good habits shouldn't be broken just because one night feels safe."

"Agree," Ngan The Binh replied briefly.

While waiting for dinner, Khe Mien sat by the fire with Dai Van Cuong, the metal box that now belonged to the group was carefully placed next to her, and she took out the metal badge again, turning it under the firelight to get a closer look at the symbol engraved on it.

“You said you've lived here twenty years,” she said. "In all that time, have you ever seen any other signs of the Guardian Angel? Not just at your old Arch, but anywhere else?"

Dai Van Cuong nodded slowly, his eyes looking far into the darkness outside the light circle of the fire. "Once," he said, "many years ago, when I had the strength to go further in search of supplies. I came across an area with a structure much larger than any ruins I had ever seen—not a regular residence, but what appeared to be a research or administration facility of some kind. Most of it had collapsed, but one underground area remained quite intact, protected by thick metal doors that I had no way of opening."

"Where is that structure?" Bach Lam asked, when did he sit down to listen?

"Far to the northwest, near the border of the area people call Stone Dome now," Dai Van Cuong replied. "I didn't dare go deep, I didn't have enough tools, I didn't have the courage to venture alone. But I remember, on the main metal door, the same symbol was engraved much larger than on this badge, along with a line I still remember: 'Regional Monitoring Station — Licensed Personnel Only.'"

Khe Mien felt a mixture of excitement and anxiety rising in her heart. “If that structure is still intact underground, there may be more documents there, more than what you found in this box.”

"Maybe," Dai Van Cuong admitted. "But I warn you, it will not be an easy journey. The area is remote, and I have heard that near the border of the Stone Arch, caravans sometimes encounter unfriendly patrols, apparently sent out to keep the area clear of strangers."

"Who sent patrols?" Ngan The Binh asked, his voice sharp.

"I don't know for sure," he replied. "Some people say it's the Stone Dome's private force, protecting their mining area. But I always find it strange, because that area doesn't have any valuable mineral mines that I've ever heard of."

The group was silent for a moment, pondering the meaning of that information. If an area containing ruins related to Thien Ho is guarded by some unknown force, it suggests that someone, today, is still interested in keeping the remains of that place a secret — a thought that sends more chills down Khe Mien's spine than anything else revealed tonight.

"We can't risk going there now," Bach Lam said, his voice final. "We need to get to Vom Cat first, completing the main goal of this trip, ensuring the safety of what Khe Mien brought. But I think we should remember this location, for another trip, in the future."

Khe Mien nodded, even though she felt a tug in her heart - the part that wanted to immediately find out the truth that was gradually being revealed, and the part that knew clearly that her responsibility to the seeds, to the Green Dome, to the people waiting for her return, still had to come first.

"You're right," she told Bach Lam. "But I won't forget this place. One day, I'll come back."

Dai Van Cuong looked at her, a gentle, tired but sincere smile appeared on his wrinkled face. “I believe you will,” he said. "There's something about the way you look at these old pieces of paper—not as a threat, but as a responsibility. I've never met anyone who looked at them that way, in the twenty years I've carried them with me."

After dinner, when Kien and Diem Quynh went into the tent to rest, Khe Mien sat a while longer by the nearly extinguished fire with Bach Lam, both quietly looking at the metal badge lying between them.

"What are you thinking?" Bach Lam asked.

“I was thinking about how everything changed in just one evening,” Khe Mien said, her voice thoughtful. "This morning, I was just a Seed Keeper on the hunt for spare parts and new varieties. Tonight, I hold in my hands evidence that could overturn everything every Arch has been taught about its own history."

"Are you scared?" he asked.

"Yes," she admitted. "But I also felt something else — a determination I had never felt so clearly before. Ms. Diem Ninh once told me that the seed keeper keeps even the incomplete pieces of memory, because no one knows how important a small piece of memory will become until someone can piece it together with the other pieces. I think, perhaps, this is what she wants to say."

Bach Lam looked at her, his eyes carried a deep admiration that he did not try to hide. "I've been going through Dong Tro for ten years, witnessing many things that I think have made me hardened to all the injustices of this world," he said. "But you make me believe that there's still something worth fighting for, beyond just surviving each day."

He held out his hand, and Khe Mien placed hers in it, and they both sat silently looking at the dying fire, while above their heads, the starry sky continued to rotate slowly, witnessing a piece of truth that had just been passed from a lonely old man to a new generation who would perhaps carry it further than anyone could have imagined.

The next morning, as the group prepared to leave, Dai Van Cuong saw them off to the edge of his tent area, his posture somewhat more stable than the previous evening, as if letting go of the burden of secrets had given him a new vitality.

"Do you want to come with us?" Khe Mien asked, a thought suddenly appeared in her mind as she looked at the old man standing alone in the middle of an empty land. "The Sand Dome is not far, and perhaps he deserves to spend his last years in a community, instead of alone in the Ashes."

Dai Van Cuong shook his head, a gentle smile on his lips. "I thank you for your kindness," he said, "but I have grown accustomed to this life, and I am not sure I can still adapt to a crowded community after twenty years of living alone. Besides," he looked around his small hut, "this is the place I have chosen to remember those I have lost. I cannot bear to leave it, even though it may seem lonely to others."

"I understand," Khe Mien said softly, thinking of the White Orchid tree in Green Dome's Ash Garden, of how people sometimes need to keep themselves close to things that remind them of things lost, no matter how incomprehensible it may seem to outsiders.

“But I have a request,” Dai Van Cuong said, his voice becoming serious. "If you find out more of the truth about the Guardian, if you can, one day, bring it to light before all the Arches — mention that there was an old man who kept this memory for twenty years, waiting for the right person to give it to him. Not because I need to be remembered. But because I want those who once lived in my Arch, who died in ruins because of an irreparable broken air filtration system, to know that their deaths are not Completely meaningless."

“I promise,” Khe Mien said, her voice choked with emotion, and she held his hand for a moment, a simple gesture that was more sincere than any formal vow.

The group continued on their way right after that, and when Khe Mien looked back, she saw Dai Van Cuong still standing there, a small figure in the middle of the vast ravine, his hand raised and waving until the distance made it so she could no longer see him clearly. She wondered if she would ever see him again, and in her heart, she silently promised herself that, no matter where the road ahead led, she would not let that promise become an empty promise.