It took twenty minutes to get through all the doors and into the vault itself. Patrick, and as Finn learned somewhere between door two and four, Emmy, who it turned out where in fact siblings, seemed to know what they were doing. They didn't seem surprised or overwhelmed by the complicated locks that were just another layer of security for everything hidden away inside.
Patrick seemed friendly enough, gushing over the heroic warriors of the past, while Emmy looked on indulgently. She must have been the older sibling, Finn figured by the time they made it into the vault itself.
The inner chambers of the vault were a honeycomb of rooms designed to organize, and separate where need, and there was supposed to be some kind of order.
It quickly became obvious that was not the case.
The first room was filled to the brim, to the point that there were random containers and even a pile of blanket wrapped items filling the floor. There were some items on the shelves where they were supposed to be, but it only took one glance to know it wasn't everything that was supposed to be there.
The rooms were supposed to be organized by type, objects separated by purpose, then value, then the most dangerous deep in the heart of the vault. That was where most of the items on Yuze's list were supposed to be.
"I thought this place was supposed to be organized?" Patrick eyed the first room, resigned.
"Shocking." Emmy muttered at the sight.
"Let's just head to the center and start there. Most of these are supposed to have been in here for decades, maybe that section is better." Finn desperately hoped so, or he might have his next birthday in this vault while looking.
It took another hour to make their way in following the map. The piles of items spilled out of the rooms and into the hallways and they had to climb over a few in the beginning, but somewhere around the halfway point, it became significantly less of a mess, and they reached a section where everything was under a thick layer of dust, but items were on the shelves, and nothing was piled on the floor.
Relieved, Finn picked up the pace, leaving Emmy to wrangle Patrick and drag him away from a few items he recognized that sent him into fits of hero worship over people Finn had never heard of.
"How do you not know who Clarf the Cleavor is!?" Patrick's disbelief became grating after the fifth time. Finn didn't need the constant reminder that he wasn't like every other soldier of the Camelia, a battle obsessed warrior itching to die on the battlefield in glory.
"Why would I know that?" He asked, exasperated.
Emmy just shook her head, looking into the rooms ahead.
"But its Clarf the Cleavor!" Patrick's arms were all over the place in his excitement.
Finn rolled his eyes. "What kind of name is that?"
Patrick paused, stumped. "Ur, well, it's a nickname?"
Finn stopped and stared at him. "That's a terrible nickname."
Patrick shrugged. "I mean it makes sense. His name was Clarf and he cleaved."
"Who names their kid Clarf? It sounds like barf!"
"Maybe not in a different language."
"Did they speak a different language?"
"I don't know."
"Oh my god." Finn turned back to his list.
"They might have!" Patrick was right on his tail. "The common speech used to only be the language of traders, so they could communicate when they travelled between lands to trade. There still are a lot of smaller local languages people use at home. In one of them Clarf must mean something awesome."
"Or it means barf." Finn muttered, thoroughly sick of the conversation.
"Found it!" Emmy called out from a room ahead of them.
"Thank the gods." Finn and Patrick hurried to catch up to her and found her in a room that had more dust than artifacts.
Finn opened his mouth to speak and sneezed instead.
And then he kept sneezing.
Eventually, Emmy shoved him back out into the hall and he managed to stop. "Are you allergic to dust?"
"No?" He sneezed again. "Maybe? I've never been around this much before."
"Of course you haven't." Emmy drawled. "I'm sure you had an army of people who made sure there wasn't a spec of dust in sight."
Finn shifted, uncomfortable. "No….Mother did."
Emmy and Patrick stared at him, and he could feel the judgement even when he wasn't looking at them. "Is it in there or not?"
"Which one is it again?"
Finn sighed, resigned. "It's a battle axe. Belonged to Helmund from the West."
Immediately Patrick's mouth opened, but Emmy's elbow impacted his stomach before anything came out.
"One battle axe coming up." Emmy announced and he heard the shifting of blankets and metal as they checked all the items inside.
After a few minutes, Patrick announced, "Found it!"
He carried out a battle axe bigger than both their heads. There were little spots of rust growing on the decorations on the handle and several empty spaces hinted at jewels that had long gone missing. The axe itself was still sharp enough to cut anything, as Patrick found out when he pressed a fingertip to the edge and immediately jumped back with a yelp and a bloody fingertip.
Emmy shook her head at him and Finn examined the axe.
…..
It seemed like a normal battle axe.
Emmy and Patrick watched him. "So, is this it?"
"It is the battle axe on the list." Finn hedged.
"Is it the thing poisoning the Camelia." Emmy clarified.
Finn shrugged. "Maybe?"
"What do you mean maybe? Why are we looking when you don't know!" Emmy squawked.
"Look, Princess Eirian said I would know it was right when I saw it, but I don't actually know what that means." Finn admitted.
Emmy's shoulders slumped as Patrick groaned.
"So what, we're just supposed to gather them all and carry them out?" Patrick eyed the axe. "We're going to need more people."
"No, no, I think it just means…we'll be able to tell."
"Tell what?"
"If its powerful enough to poison the Camelia, we'll be able to feel it." Finn decided, desperate to keep control of the situation.
~ tbc