My mind tells me that autumn is in full swing by now. Last year at this time, Paimon and I had just arrived in Inazuma, where the maples must be fully crimson by now. Wistfully, I wonder how Ayaka and our other friends are doing. Is it getting cooler across the wide ocean? As for me, as I gaze out over Port Ormos, I can't accept that it's any season but summer. To the south, sky and sea meet in an imperceptible line. Inland, the port city crosses over the wide mouth of the river through a series of high, narrow bridges, as if an ancient hill was cleaved in two by the water and rejoined by human hands. Everywhere, the leaves are green.
A few days ago, I thought the Grand Bazaar was the biggest marketplace in Teyvat, but it barely holds a candle to Port Ormos. This seaside city is filled to the brim with merchants selling everything from spices of the highest quality to Fontaine fashion, from intricate woodwork to ... slime paste. "It can be squeezed into various shapes, and you can stick it onto the wall or ceiling!" The merchant had said, shoving a gooey green glob in front of our faces. "And this one is called 'Up, Up, and Away!' Just rub it between your hands and it will rise up into the air!" We politely and resolutely declined. As for our next steps, however, I'm not so sure.
"So what do you think? Should we pose as Akademiya students?" Paimon says.
"According to the Akasha, the Akademiya doesn't have any research facilities in Port Ormos," I say. "It could appear suspicious if we pose as Akademiya students when there are rumors flying around about the stolen Akademiya item." Still, I don't think Asfand meant us harm by his suggestion.
"No good, no good," mutters a young man, walking past us with a group of companions. "Scary Eremites everywhere, and no sigh of what we're looking for!" They're not dressed in Akademiya robes, but based on their book bags and eye bags, I get a feeling that they are "fellow" students. Speak of the devil. Nodding to Paimon, I casually follow them, a few paces behind.
"We came here to destress and maybe get a leg up on our research if we're lucky," another student grumbles, "but all I've encountered are these Eremites! There's been so much fighting among the factions that we'd do best to steer clear of them."
"Yeah, especially that group that's constantly going on about 'the Scarlet King Deshret' and some 'resurrection,'" the first student says. "I hear that even the Citadel of Regzar is getting fed up with them. What was that group called again? The Ayn– whatever."
"Ayn Al-Ahmar," a new student corrects him. "Today I heard that the thing we're after might be in their possession at the moment, and that they like to set up shop at the Djafar Tavern." The other students stop dead in their tracks.
"Why didn't you tell us?!" One student exclaims. "We could be enjoying our vacation in peace if we found it!" Another says.
"If you're willing to part with half a million Mora, supposedly they'll give you information on anything," the informed student replies. For a few seconds, you could hear a pin drop. Then, the others break into an outrage. "Half a million?" "Why can't they take pity on us penniless students?!"
"Well that's the sticker price," the informed student begins, "but perhaps we can haggle. Many of the Eremites in Port Ormos trade in this kind of stuff, and they're usually pretty wary of outsiders, but not so with us hapless Akademiya students. It's because the kind of knowledge we’re looking for aren't the kind of goods the Eremites need. As long as they know you're a student, then deals can be made." Interesting. Knowledge is truly a commodity here, subject to the typical laws of supply and demand.
"I guess we shouldn't worry," another student says, relieved. "Our field of research is so niche that the shady knowledge we're after is practically worthless to anyone else."
"Let's pool our money together and head over then," someone proposes. "Who's the best at negotiating?" The students stop near a bench and start reaching for their money purses. Not wanting to act too suspicious, I walk past and continue down the road. Djafar Tavern is located on the western half of Port Ormos, southeast from your current location, the Akasha instructs.
"Wait!" Paimon says once we're out of earshot. "Didn't you hear them? Half a million mora! Are you out of your mind?"
"They said Akademiya students get a discount, remember?" I say. "Besides, reliable information is worth the price."
Paimon still seems unhappy, but she lets out a humph and flies on. We follow the road down the hill into the city center, and sure enough, Djafar Tavern lies in an inconspicuous corner. Here, the buildings are more luxurious, shielded from the hustle and bustle of the harbor. A courtyard surrounds the building, and several patio tables host a score of Eremite customers.
We sit at an empty table and set our bags down on the carved wooden bench. Around us, we catch snatches of conversations about the Scarlet King Deshret and the traitor Greater Lord Rukkhadevata. It seems that we are indeed within Ayn Al-Ahmar territory. Raising my eyebrows at Paimon, I get ready to deliver my best impression of a stressed Akademiya student. I rest my elbows on the table and settle my chin between the palms of my hands. "Oh, I'm never going to graduate at this rate!" I say loudly. "We came to Port Ormos looking for useful information, but what have we found so far? Nothing!"
"Relax," Paimon says, joining in. "We heard a tip about this place, remember? Maybe someone here can be of help."
As if on cue, an Eremite passes by our table and lays down two menus. "What's a student from Sumeru City doing in Port Ormos?" He says in greeting.
"I'm looking for information about a certain something," I say cryptically. I hope this is convincing enough, since I have no clue what this something is.
Luckily, the Eremite seems to buy my act. "Ah, you've come to the right place," he says proudly. "Now the question is, can you afford it?"
Without missing a beat, I count out 50 mora and slide it across the table.
The Eremite's face darkens. "Is this some kind of joke?" He demands.
"I'm just an Akademiya student," I say. "I don't have that kind of money."
Shaking his head, the Eremite starts to walk away. "Half a million, take it or leave it."
"Wait!" Paimon calls out. Glaring at me, she snatches the purse and dumps out the majority of its contents. "She must have missed a couple of zeros."
At the sound of clinking mora, the man whips back around and smiles. "Always happy to do business with those with means," he says. He scribbles something on his notepad and sets it down next to the mora. "Here's the merchant's address. Whatever you're looking for, you'll find there." Scooping the mora into a pile, he counts the pieces into his palm.
"One more question," I say on a whim. "I've heard mentions of the Scarlet King. Can you tell us more about him?"
"We're archeology students!" Paimon adds with an innocent smile.
Tariq stops his counting and considers for a second. "Well since you've already paid, I guess I can throw in a little bonus," he says. "As I'm sure you've heard, members of Ayn Al-Ahmar are devout believers of the Scarlet King Deshret. Long ago, the Scarlet King Deshret founded the great desert nation, our homeland. It was an advanced civilization, far beyond anything you'll see in present-day Sumeru. The Scarlet King Deshret was the rightful God of Wisdom, but he was betrayed by a companion he trusted. She even stripped him of his title, 'God of Wisdom.'"
"So you're suggesting that the traitor was–" I start.
"Greater Lord Rukkhadevata, yes!" He says passionately. "That shameless wretch destroyed the Scarlet King Deshret's civilization, and our ancestors were forced to flee to this land where we were made to suffer the tyranny of our enemies."
"Furthermore," he continues, "she conspired with the Akademiya to cover up the truth of her actions and create the merciful and benevolent facade for which she is now known. Just thinking about it sickens me! But the story doesn't end there, oh no. The Scarlet King Deshret isn't truly dead. The voice of the Oracle has been heard in the desert, prophesying his resurrection!" He raises his arms towards the sky, as if waiting for divine light to fall upon him. "Mark my words, our god shall return. When that day comes, all followers of the traitor and all the desert dwellers who have forgotten their true god will suffer retribution together."
"Does what I'm saying makes you shiver with fear?" He finishes, grinning maniacally. "It's not too late for you to become a believer of the Scarlet King Deshret."
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Wow, what a performance. "Who is this Oracle?" I ask finally.
Frowning, he shakes his head as if he's said too much. "I think this conversation has reached its end."
"Not just yet," says a new voice from behind my back. "This man is a fraud."
I turn around to see a tall Sumeru man, pale of skin, with a Dendro vision hanging off one shoulder. He's tall and well-built, and he commands a definite air of authority.
"Deranged Akademiya lunatic!" The Eremite screeches, backing up one step.
"Yes, it's me again," the stranger says coolly. "Tariq, I already warned you that if you weren't willing to sit and discuss things with me, I'd take measures to make things, well, uncomfortable for you." Addressing Paimon and me, he adds, "Listen to me. That address he gave you is fake – or at least, you won't find a merchant waiting for you there." I feel shivers tingling down my back as he continues, "this group has been boasting all around that they can provide information on a certain 'item,' as a means of luring people into their territory. Once you show up, they keep up the act until they have hard evidence that you want to purchase said item, then they use that to blackmail you for all the mora you're worth."
Tariq crosses his arms and says, fuming, "shut it, Alhaitham! What are you playing at, trying to ruin our business like this?"
"I've told you already," Alhaitham says calmly, "I wish to discuss my terms with your boss."
"The boss made it perfectly clear that he won't negotiate with you," Tariq shoots back.
"Yes, and in no uncertain terms," Alhaitham says. "However, that does not preclude him from changing his mind in the future."
"I'm warning you: don't push us, or this could get ugly," Tariq warns. "We don't usually get rough with people from the Akademiya because it just complicates things. For a lunatic like you, though, we might just have to make an exception." So this Alhaitham belongs to the Akademiya, apparently. I wonder what his position is, as he definitely does not look the part of a typical scholar.
"If you're suggesting that we escalate this from a verbal exchange to a physical one, I accept," Alhaitham says. "After all, even the Archons used war to negotiate the ownership of Teyvat. On the other hand, if we cannot agree on any means of negotiation at all, then I'm afraid my next course of action will sting a little more than the mere falling-through of a few business deals. I will jeopardize the Eremites' reputation, which I know you value above all else." What bold words for a man of the Akademiya. Compared to the sniveling sages we met in Gandhara Ville, Alhaitham is significantly more direct.
"Wh– what did you say?" Tariq stammers, confused. "What do you even mean?"
"Have I ever failed to follow through on my word in the past?" Alhaitham challenges. He leans back and crosses his arms.
"This guy is really out of his mind," Tariq mutters. "Fine. If you really have a death wish, let's meet two days from now. The pier in front of Pharos Lighthouse, four o'clock in the afternoon." He turns to leave.
"Not so fast," Alhaitham says, seizing the back of Tariq's tunic. "Return the money." With an incredulous expression, Tariq hesitates for one moment, then throws down his purse and storms off.
As I stare after him, speechless, an old man walks out timidly from inside the tavern and approaches our table. He looks at Alhaitham with an expression of desperation. "Please, I beg you," he says nervously, "don't provoke them. We can't afford any trouble with this crowd. They didn't even pay for their food."
"Ah, Master Eymen," Alhaitham says. "There appears to be fewer staff in the restaurant recently. This wouldn't happen to be because they're all busy spreading the word to the students, would it?"
Eymen's eyes widen. "Well–" He begins, lost for words.
"Someone who chooses to do business with a group like that really can't afford to get so flustered the instant someone confronts them about it," Alhaitham says simply. "Consider their meal compensation for our silence. I'd say you're getting an excellent deal." At that, Alhaitham nods to the tavern owner and takes his leave.
"We need to go after him," I tell Paimon. This man knows the lay of the land, and we need his information. Hurriedly stashing our reclaimed mora away, we pick up our belongings and rush off, leaving Eymen gaping at his own dilemma.
Farther down the street, we catch a glimpse of Alhaitham's teal coat. Breaking out into a run, we're within earshot before he turns the corner. Hearing our footsteps, Alhaitham turns and confronts us: "What do you want?"
"It's Alhaitham, right?" I say, slightly out of breath. "Thank you for your help back there."
"No need," he responds. "My goal was to get to them, and you two gave me the opportunity I needed. We're even. I advise you to keep your distance from them. They weren't able to make off with your mora this time, but they might harass you again in the future. Farewell." He turns to leave, but Paimon flies in front of his face and splays her arms out shamelessly.
"Hold your horses!" She calls out. "We need to ask you something."
"If you saw through their scam," I say, "you must know the real story about a certain something, yes?"
"Who exactly are you two, and why are you inquiring about that?" Alhaitham asks.
"We're students from the Akademiya," I respond without missing a beat. The story feels more natural the more I repeat it.
However, Alhaitham sighs. "Look, you know that those thugs conducting 'business' with you had nothing to do with that farce, right?"
Well then. "Perhaps we can also talk terms?" I say. "I know a thing or two about swordplay, and you talked yourself into a 'physical exchange.'"
"You don't even have a Vision," Alhaitham says. "Forget it."
Ah, the classic comment about Visionless me. Raising my palm, I summon a small Dendro blossom in midair, then zap it to life with Electro. Poof! I let it explode into a thousand shards right in front of Alhaitham's face.
He takes a step back and waves at the air in front of him. "All right, so be it. I accept." Retrieving a pen and pencil from somewhere, he scribbles a note and hands it to me. "If you're searching for someone who sells that kind of merchandise, you can try your luck there. We'll reconvene at the appointed time by the pier. It doesn't matter if you show up or not."
I take the slip and stow it away. "So since you were happy to give us her information, does that mean you're also willing to tell us what we're after?"
Alhaitham raises his eyebrows and stares at me sharply. "You were willing to part with 500,000 Mora for something, and you didn't even know what it was? Well, if you really are as skilled as you claim, then you can beat the answer out of them when they become hostile."
I stare back at him obstinately. If he knows what this item is, I'm not letting him slip away without telling us.
"Fine," he says finally. "If you've been making inquiries, then you have to know something by now. Tell me what you know so far, so I don't waste time repeating information."
"We know it's connected to the Akademiya. The Eremites deal in it, and students want it too," I say. "It appears to be some form of knowledge, but that can be bought and sold."
Alhaitham nods approvingly. "You know almost everything there is to know, but you're unable to compile this information because you've never seen it before." He reaches into a pocket and retrieves a small object. Shaped like a glowing emerald crystal atop a setting of bronze leaves, it fits snugly in his palm. After a moment, he stows it away. "This is what you've been looking for," he says.
"What do you mean?" I ask. "'It' was in your possession all along?"
Alhaitham shakes his head. "This is a knowledge capsule. It's a vessel that can store a fixed quantity of knowledge, like a miniature Akasha. Anyone who links it to their personal Akasha Terminal instantly becomes privy to its contents."
"Anyone?" I ask cautiously. That seems against the Akasha's strict content control system.
"Correct, anyone," Alhaitham confirms. "Unlike the Akasha, knowledge capsules confer their contents without any requisites. Technically, they're convenient and harmless vestibules for knowledge. Unfortunately, it's illegal in Sumeru to privately possess or trade them."
"If the Akademiya is so concerned about 'improper' access of knowledge, why create them in the first place?" I ask.
"They were designed as a means for scholars to transfer knowledge gained from Irminsul into the Akasha, and are intended to be destroyed immediately after use," Alhaitham explains. "Despite strict regulations, some of these knowledge capsules will always escape destruction. After all, there will always be those in this world who are dissatisfied with life as designed for them by the Akasha and wish to change their fate. Over the past century, a wide variety of knowledge capsules has been leaked from the Akademiya. Now, in Port Ormos, the valuable ones are means to mora for the Eremites, while the obscure ones occasionally prove useful to the common citizens and erudite Akademiya students."
A very thorough explanation. That's why the students were so desperate to get their hands on a capsule, to discover some previously undisclosed knowledge for their theses. It also explains the Akademiya's feverish search for the lost item. "I heard that the Akademiya lost something recently," I say, testing the waters to see if he will reveal more. "What information did that knowledge capsule contain?"
Alhaitham looks surprised and shakes his head. "So that's what you were really after," he murmurs. "With our current arrangement, I don't believe I can offer an answer."
"Perhaps we can negotiate further," I press on.
After a moment, Alhaitham shrugs. "If you want to learn more, you need to help me first."
"Deal," I say adamantly.
"So eager to agree," Alhaitham notes. "Anyway, I need you to find a traveling merchant who goes by the name 'Dori.'"
"That's all?" I ask.
"Unlike other peddlers, she often has quality goods in stock," Alhaitham continues. "As long as there is profit to be made, there is nothing she won't dare to sell. I need you to become her customer and gain her trust. This is my condition for further collaboration."
"If she's so interested in profit," I say, "why won't she deal to you directly?"
"She is guarded against affiliates of the Akademiya because, put simply, most of her wares are illegal under the Akademiya's regulations," Alhaitham explains.
"Why do you need her business?" I ask.
"Until you complete this task," Alhaitham says curtly, "you don't have the privilege to ask questions."
How rude. "Well then, how do we become her customers?" I say, "and why would she sell to us?"
"You two are foreigners – it's clear as day – so Dori should view you as 'safe' clients," Alhaitham says. He reaches for a folded slip of paper and hands it to me discreetly. "This is her informant's address and their contact password. Beyond that, you'll have to improvise."
"That's fine," I say. "Any tips for gaining her trust?"
"Dori has a keen nose for mora and a shrewd eye for wares," Alhaitham says. "She only likes customers who she deems to have good taste. Take these funds and purchase the highest quality wares to earn her approval." He hands me a hefty pouch of mora, almost as large as the one he saved from the Eremites earlier.
"Wait!" Paimon exclaims. "We only just saw our first knowledge capsule. Do you have a crash course for picking out good from bad?"
"Elemental sight will reveal the answer," he replies simply.
That doesn't entirely answer the question, but I nod anyways.
"I will be waiting at the Wikala Funduq tomorrow at sunset," Alhaitham says. "If you succeed, we can have an open discussion then."