Chapter 98 — The Last Seed Keeper

Bach Lam found Khe Mien in the Seed Warehouse late one evening, crouched next to one of the lowest seed shelves, her hands carefully rearranging the newest boxes of seeds that had just arrived from the most recent distribution of the Original Seed Warehouse, the familiar pale yellow oil lamp light covering her face with a calmness he rarely had the chance to witness amidst the endlessly busy days. The air in the Grain Warehouse had the distinct smell of dry earth and old paper, a silence broken only by the sound of small wooden boxes gently hitting each other as she rearranged each compartment, and he stood silently in the doorway for a long time before speaking, not wanting to disrupt that rare moment of peace.

"You're still working this late," he said, sitting down next to her, his voice carrying a familiar affection.

"I always feel most at peace here," Khe Mien replied, without stopping, placing one last box of seeds in its rightful place on the shelf. "Maybe because this is where everything started, and where I can always return, no matter how the outside world changes."

Bach Lam was silent for a moment, watching her work with a meticulousness that had become second nature after many years, before he pulled out a small object wrapped in a soft piece of cloth from his pocket.

“I have something to give you,” he said, his voice carrying a nervousness rarely seen in someone who remained calm in the most dangerous of situations.

Khe Mien stopped, turned to look at him with curiosity, and when he opened the fabric, she saw a small bracelet handmade from recycled metal, bent into the shape of interwoven tree branches, in the middle of which was attached a small seed preserved in a transparent plastic capsule.

“I had a craftsman at the Pottery Arch make it,” he said, “from the same piece of metal from the first knife I carried when I first met you at the gates of the Green Arch. Perhaps, I thought, it was time that what was once used only for survival became something that represented something else — a promise, instead of just a tool of defense.”

"Bach Lam," Khe Mien said, her voice shaking with emotion, looking at the bracelet sparkling under the oil lamp light.

“I'm not suggesting this because we need it,” he said quickly, as if wanting to clarify before she could misunderstand. "We've proven, through everything we've been through, that our love doesn't need any rituals to become solid. I just think, now that our heaviest responsibility is fulfilled, when the world no longer hangs on the brink of collapse every day, maybe we deserve a moment just for ourselves, not out of obligation, but for the simple joy of choosing each other, once again, in a world where we truly having the right to choose."

Tears rolled down Khe Mien's cheeks, and she nodded, unable to utter a word in that moment, only reaching out so he could put the bracelet on her wrist, feeling its gentle but meaningful weight resting on her skin. She turned her wrist slightly, letting the light of the oil lamp catch the transparent plastic ball with the small seed inside, and in that moment, she thought about the old knife he used to carry at his side throughout his years of travel, the weapon that had saved both of their lives countless times, now transformed into a completely different symbol of the same devotion.

News of their decision spread quickly through the communication network, and in less than two weeks, a ceremony was held right on the terraces of the Green Arch, where things between them began to take on a deeper meaning than a mere escort relationship, many years ago. Not a lavish or ostentatious ceremony, but a simple ceremony according to the Green Dome tradition, taking place under the familiar artificial sunset, in the presence of those who had gone through a long journey with them.

Vu Dinh Khoat stood next to his daughter, his eyes were red but the smile on his lips was brighter than any time Khe Mien had seen since her mother passed away. Tang Dieu Lam stood as bridesmaid, unable to hide her tears of happiness throughout the ceremony. Kien, now a mature young man with the confidence of a respected teacher, stood next to Diem Quynh, both laughing when they saw Khe Mien walking in the middle of the line of people along the path sprinkled with flower petals from the Central Nursery.

Representatives from all the member Domes attended — Xa Binh Nguyen and Quac Thi Hien from Pebble Dome and Moss Dome, Cau Bach Thinh and Diep Ba Nhan from Cat Dome, Wei Ba Cuong and Duong Thi Yen from Stone Dome, Phong Ba Nghinh from Pottery Dome, even Vinh Thi Ngoan, was invited as an honored guest representing the Upper Dome Base. Doanh Ba Thong stood nearby, smiling with a rare peace that years of living in darkness and danger had never allowed him to have.

"I never thought I would stand here, witnessing this moment," Bien Ba Uy said, standing up to speak as the master of ceremonies, his voice solemn but warm. "Years ago, I approved a young girl to leave the Green Dome for the first time, carrying with her a box of seeds and a faith I wasn't sure was enough to protect her in the harsh Ashes. Today, I stand here, seeing her not only return safely, but bringing with her a changed world, and a companion who accompanied her on the journey."

When the ceremony of exchanging vows was performed, Khe Mien and Bach Lam stood facing each other in the sunset, and instead of flowery promises, they chose to say the simplest, most sincere things.

"I promise to continue to believe, even when the world gives me reasons to doubt," Khe Mien said, looking straight into his eyes. "And I promise to always return, no matter how far the road takes me."

"I promise to always be there when you return," Bach Lam replied, his voice hoarse with emotion, "and I promise to learn to let go of my fear of loss enough to live each day to the fullest with you, instead of just preparing for what I might lose."

The party afterward lasted until late, laughter and music echoed throughout the terraced fields, dishes from all the Dom members were richly displayed on the long tables - cakes baked from the Ceramic Dome ceramic oven, algae prepared according to the Vom Moss recipe, fermented fruit wine from new fruit varieties of the Original Seed Warehouse that Green Dome had just successfully tested growing in the first year.

Kien and Diem Quynh sat next to each other throughout the party, first talking about work as usual, but gradually the conversation turned to more personal things, and when a slow song played from Vom Cat's group of amateur musicians, Kien hesitantly stood up, holding out his hand to invite her to dance. Diem Quynh, blushing but unable to hide her smile, put her hand in his, and Khe Mien, watching from afar with Bach Lam, couldn't help but smile at that scene.

"I think they finally realized," Bach Lam said softly, an amusement in his voice.

"It's been a long time," Khe Mien replied, smiling slightly. "I think we were both so busy building a new world that we forgot to build our own lives. Maybe today is a good reminder."

Son Ba Dat, sitting at a table with several young soldiers of the allied defense force, raised his glass in a toast when Khe Mien and Bach Lam passed by his table. "I wish you both happiness," he said, his voice sincere. "I think, without what you two did, I would never have had the chance to sit here, among people I now call friends, instead of teammates in an army I no longer trust."

"I found my own path," Khe Mien replied. "We just opened a door. You're the one who chooses to walk through it."

When it was late at night, Khe Mien stood alone for a while next to Co Diem Ninh's memorial tree, placing her hand on the familiar bark.

The night breeze gently stirred the leaves above her head, and in that quiet moment, away from the music and laughter of the party, Khe Mien felt closer to her deceased mentor than at any other time since her death. "I've done," she whispered, "not just what you expected, but perhaps more than you ever dared to hope for. And I've found someone to share it all with, just as you said you'd never have to go it alone, if you only knew how to open your heart."

Bach Lam reached out to her, put his arm around her shoulders, and the two stood quietly under the starlight, amidst the music and laughter still echoing in the distance, knowing that even though the journey ahead was full of unknowns, they would face it together, as they had done for so many years, not because they were bound by any shared responsibility anymore, but simply because they had chosen each other, every day, and would continue to choose each other for all the remaining days ahead.