Chapter 48 — The Last Seed Keeper

The second day passed in the rock crevice under the shadow of an arrow-shaped rock formation that brought nothing but a long silence and the water bottle was running low to an alarming level, every sip of water Khe Mien allowed herself and the other two to drink was now just a few small drops divided equally, enough to moisten the throat but not enough to quench the thirst that was starting to grip all three.

“We can't wait any longer,” Diem Quynh said in the afternoon, her voice hoarse from lack of water, her eyes staring at the nearly empty water bottle placed between them. "I don't want to say this, Khe Mien, but if we stay here another day without finding a new water source, we won't have enough strength to keep moving, whether we find Bach Lam or not."

Khe Mien looked towards the distant trail, where during the past two days, not a single familiar figure appeared, only once a patrol group of Stone Dome passed by in the early morning, forcing the three to hold their breath and press themselves close to the cliff until they were completely gone. In her heart, a silent battle between reason and emotion had been going on since last night - the rational part of her clearly understands that what Diem Quynh just said was the undeniable truth, but the emotional part still clings to the hope that if she just waits a little longer, Bach Lam will appear from behind a certain rock, carrying his familiar tired but safe smile.

"You're right," she said at last, her voice heavy with having to admit something she didn't want to accept. "We need to find water first, then we can consider the next step."

Kien, who had been carving a small mark into the flat surface of an arrow-shaped rock with a small knife—a simple arrow indicating the direction they were going, along with a brief note left behind for anyone who came later—looked up, his face carrying a sudden maturity that Khe Mien had never seen in him before. “I left a mark,” he said. "If Mr. Bach Lam and Mr. Ngan The Binh come here after us, they will know we are still okay, and know the direction we went."

Khe Mien looked at the small engraving on the stone, a simple action but carrying a symbolic weight that made her throat tight. "That's a good idea," she said, placing her hand on his shoulder. "Very good, Kien."

They left the rock crevice at dusk, when the intense heat of the day began to subside, moving in the direction of a faint strip of pale blue that Diem Quynh, with her meticulous observational eye that had once helped her discover the smallest technical details, believed could be a sign of plants growing around some underground water source at the foot of the mountain.

The road is not easy. The jagged rocky terrain cut into the soles of their feet through their worn shoes, and darkness fell faster than expected among the high cliffs, forcing the three to move slowly, carefully tracing each step to avoid slipping on the uneven rock.

"I heard something," Kien whispered after nearly two hours of moving in tense silence, stopping and tilting his head to listen. "Like... running water?"

The three stood still, and in the stillness of the mountain night, Khe Mien began to hear it too — a small, steady gurgling sound, not like the sound of wind or falling rocks, but the unmistakable sound of water flowing over rocks.

They followed the sound, crept through a narrow ravine, and finally found it - a small vein of water leaking from a crack in the cliff, flowing down to form a shallow pool of clear water in the moonlight, around which grew a few thorny bushes rooted deep in the damp rocks.

"Water," Diem Quynh whispered, her voice trembling with relief, kneeling beside the small puddle with tears in her eyes.

But just as she raised her hand to scoop water, a hoarse, old voice rang out from the darkness behind a large rock nearby, causing all three of them to turn around in surprise.

"This water is not free for anyone," the voice said, carrying the hoarse tone of someone who had lived too long in dusty air. "But I'm not someone who would let three children die of thirst right before my eyes, even though I don't like strangers at all."

A figure stepped out from behind the rock, a thin old man with messy white hair, wearing a patched cloak made from many different pieces of fabric, in his hand he held a long wooden stick as both a weapon and a walking aid, and his eyes, although sharp and alert, did not carry the obvious hostility that Khe Mien had mentally prepared to face.

Kien instinctively stood in front of the two women, his hand clutching a small knife even though he clearly did not have much experience using it in a real confrontation. "We don't mean to trespass," he said, his voice trying to stay steady even though it still trembled slightly. "We just need some water, then we'll go."

The old man snorted, a sound that was half contemptuous and half amused, leaning on his cane and stepping closer under the moonlight to better observe the three uninvited guests. “Put the knife away, kid,” he said. "If I wanted to harm you, you wouldn't have heard me before you saw my face. I'm just an old man who lives alone, not a soldier of the Stone Dome, not a robber."

"Do you live here alone?" Khe Mien asked, cautiously but unable to hide her curiosity mixed with a feeling of relief when she realized this stranger might not be a threat.

"Many years," he replied, sitting down on a flat rock near the puddle, signaling with his stick that they could come near and scoop water. "I belong to no Arch, no Arch of the Rock, no Green Dome, no Arch you can name. I choose to live here, between the Ashes and these mountains, where no one tells me what to believe, what to fear."

Diem Quynh, although still alert, could not help but take a small sip of water and brought it to her mouth, and relief was evident on her face as the cool water flowed down her dry throat. “Thank you,” she said, her voice sincere. "We really need it."

“I can see that,” the old man said, his gaze passing over each of the three of them with a meticulous observation surprising for a recluse. "Three children, exhausted, frightened, moving at night away from the main trails — I have seen enough people fleeing the Rock in my life to recognize that appearance immediately."

That sentence startled Khe Mien, and she realized that, even though she hadn't said a word about her situation, this strange man had seen through most of the truth just by the way they moved, the way they dressed, the way fear was still clearly written on each face.

"People call me a saboteur," she said, deciding that directness was probably the best way to deal with the man who gave them drinks without asking for anything. "Because we asked too much about an ancient organization, and because a mine accident happened near a place we visited."

The old man laughed, a dry but not malicious laugh, shaking his head as if he had just heard a story he had heard countless times under different names. "Their Watch Captain," he said, not asking a question. "That man has been looking for a scapegoat since many years ago when I even dared to come near the Stone Arch to trade goods. He was scared, and scared people always need someone to blame, rather than a real answer."

"Do you know about Han Dinh Sang?" Khe Mien asked, unable to hide her surprise.

“I know enough about all the Arches around here to choose not to live in any of them,” he replied, his voice deepening to something approaching the weariness of years of witnessing. "Each Dome has their own version — one person is given power with fear, then turns that fear into law for everyone else."

He stood up, walked with his cane towards a rock crevice hidden behind a puddle of water, where Khe Mien now realized there was a crude shelter made of canvas and dry branches, his small shelter in the middle of this desolate land.

"You can stay here tonight," he said, his voice no longer as wary as before. "I have enough room, and it's about to get cold. Tomorrow morning, if you want, I can show you the way—I know these mountains better than anyone alive, including the men of the Stone Arch."

Khe Mien looked at Diem Quynh and Kien, who both nodded, the exhaustion on their faces overcoming any remaining doubts, and she turned back to look at the old man with a sincere gratitude that she didn't need to try to express. “Thank you,” she said. "We never thought we would encounter kindness in this place, after everything that just happened."

"Kindness belongs to no Arch," he replied, turning and entering his little shelter. "It belongs only to those who still have it, no matter where they live."