Chapter Text
"Hello?" Mumbo called uncertainty, leaning over the counter to try and catch a glimpse of anyone around. There was no one in sight, only a backdrop of hanging plants and faded navy wood-paneling behind the front desk. The farmer's fingers hovered over the brass bell set next to the polished nameplate reading 'Chief Archivist'. Tango had parted with him a bit ago to help Pearl so he was on his own now, searching for the man who ran the Museum. There was a barely visible door set back a little into the far wall, white paint faded and chipped. It was obscured by the hanging vines of the healthy greenery that seemed to spill from the ceiling, housed in containers ranging from what appeared to be bowls strung with chains or fancy pots held up with macrame.
Eventually, Mumbo grew bored of waiting and pressed down on the contraption, letting it ring out sweet and clear. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a head lift from down the corridor, but that was just the library. The person in question was Xisuma's big-eyed assistant Keralis who was poring over a stack of yellowy papers. After a moment, however, there was a creak, followed by the rustle of leaves and footsteps that indicated a particularly bouncy gait.
"Well hello there!" The man who emerged from the back door was grinning ear to ear, eyes ablaze with excitement. Blonde hair flopped softly over his face in subtle waves, just tickling his eyelids. His irises were a brilliant hue of sapphire and stood out against the somewhat mousey colour of his hair. The archivist wore a thick, woven, brown cardigan, similar to Grian's jumper in how it was oversized and came past his hands. Underneath was just a simple white t-shirt, but the farmer could not deny he looked very cozy.
"H-hi." He stuttered, somewhat overwhelmed by the sudden vibrancy of his sunny attitude.
"Well if it isn't Mumbo, it's a pleasure to see you. My name's Zedaph, if you don't remember, but most people call me Zed." He paused, the space between his eyebrows crinkling. "I suppose you could also call me Aph, but with some of the accents here that could sound like a bad word, and the Watchers know X would have my head for that." Mumbo simply nodded, too stunned to speak by his enthusiasm. He must have missed how hyperactive the man was in their short introduction last week. He had a beam to rival Grian's. "If it isn't obvious, by the way, I own this place!" He added at the end.
"Co-own!" A distant voice called, somehow having heard them down the corridor.
"Sorry, of course, how could I forget you, Gem?" He chuckled. Oh, Mumbo remembered a Gem, the Librarian, should memory serve correctly.
"I thought libraries were supposed to be quiet?" Mumbo made a weak attempt at a joke, remembering what Tango had said about finding his people. If he tried to act natural with everyone hopefully it would hit its mark in some places.
"Gem doesn't really care to enforce the rules, she's arguably one of the most chatty people who frequents the library." Zed replied with a half-amused, half-genuine smile. "So anyway, Mr Jumbo, what brings you to my fine, co-owner establishment?"
"Oh gosh, it sounds rather silly when I say it out loud." He scratched the back of his neck with his left hand, his right arm still being in a sling. He had received a call from Stress yesterday that he should come in soon to have a check up and possibly get it removed. "Tango was helping me with some chores around the farm and we found this weird artifact thing in the ground," He explained, removing the small sculpture from his pocket and placing it on the desk. "It's a chicken. Tango said you'd like that sort of thing, so here I am." He shrugged, trying not to let on how embarrassed he was. Walking into a Museum with a dirty chicken diorama was a rather mortifying experience.
"This is simply amazing!" Some of the farmers' abashment disappeared once he heard Zedaph's excitement. "Tango really knows me well." He laughed wholeheartedly, a hand fluffing up his hair.
"So you two are close?" Mumbo inquired, watching the archivist pick up the object and run it over in his hands.
"Best friends, me, him and Impulse." He squinted at a large bit of chipped paint, picking at the edges with short fingernails. "Everyone's best friends with Impulse practically, he's super close with Gem and Pearl too."
"He seemed nice when I spoke to him." The farmer commented neutrally, not really having much information to go off of.
"Very hardworking…" The blonde trailed off with a smile. Mumbo watched silently as Zedaph pulled out a draw and withdrew a pair of wire-frame glasses, adjusting them on his nose to examine the statue. The flake of white he'd removed was held up to a glowing lamp. The man must have discovered something from doing such, as he let out a hum of satisfaction and nodded once. The farmer looked on, confused, not sure how he'd acquired information from such a quick act, but he didn't question it. "You wanna hear the history behind your find?"
"You can tell me stuff about that from one glance?" Mumbo asked incredulously.
"I didn't get this job on a loan," Zed joked. "I know what I'm doing. It's not a proper assessment, obviously, I could tell more with time, but I have a vague gist."
"Explain away."
"So, the erosion of the paint is mostly just due to being in the ground, but also for how long." He removed the glasses, giving them a quick polish and replacing them in the draw. "I can't give an exact amount, but I'm gonna go between five and ten years. The wood itself is mostly unscathed, so it's unlikely woodlice have had the time to have a real good nibble, and the paint, from what I can tell, is a recent brand. I can't see any visible traces of lead, so it's definitely more modern. So not of extreme historical significance, but still very cool. Everything lost or found has a place in my collection." He finished with a small smile.
"The fact you can tell all that from looking so quickly is incredible." Mumbo complimented, trying to refrain from keeping his mouth hanging open in shock.
"Tricks of the trade, my dear friend." Zedaph shrugged. He lifted the end of the counter to walk out next to the farmer, grabbing the chicken statue too. "Come on, you can put it in its new cabinet."
Mumbo's eyes lit up, and he followed the blonde down the corridor. They passed through the library, stopping for a short conversation with Gem before continuing on, dodging around towering bookcases. The farmer spied what looked like a few interesting reads, including one debating the existence of pure magic and its potential to be harnessed. That simple act of seeing reignited the utter curiosity and now fear he had for the supposed Wizard in the woods. He couldn't afford distraction, however. Zed was weaving in and out of shelves and displays with practised ease, but Mumbo had no clue which way to go and needed to keep close to his tail.
The blonde suddenly stopped.
"Oh my- I'm sorry!" Mumbo stuttered, crashing into his back. He took a few steps to the right, gazing at the set of grand double doors hidden away at the back of the library.
"Now this… This is the Hall of All!" Zedaph proclaimed, throwing the doors open dramatically.
Mumbo audibly gasped looking in. It was a somewhat narrow but smart room, glass cabinets lining the sides. Every colour of light competed for his attention. Glimmering gemstones and fragments of stained glass were illuminated by a flickering row of candles, catching off the hue of mineral and bouncing around the room like a rainbow. Slabs of different rock were laid by rusty artifacts and miscellaneous items; each told their own story, and they were all labelled in a neat and informative scrawl. Above them were a running set of shelves, stacked books and papers littering them. Each label read a different year, almanacs and weather reports for every day in Hermit Valley since the establishment of the Museum. How Zedaph kept on top of recording information every day was beyond the farmer, but it made him respect him so much more.
"This is insane." Mumbo breathed, turning slowly on the spot to take it all in.
"It's my life's work," Zed told him. "I am but a small part of this town's history but I'm determined to make my mark. Not only do I carry on the duties of the archivists before me, recording any significant happenings, but I set up this collection to immortalise the detritus and beauty of this place should it one day be gone." There was something beautifully poetic in his words that really struck a chord with the farmer. He wanted to be a part of this history now too, he was determined. Maybe one day, Zedaph would write that the Boatem Farm had successfully been reborn under his cultivation and guidance. Maybe he could leave a legacy to be carried on years down the line. "At the end of the day, we're just pockmarks on the Earth's surface, in many ways temporary, but with enough of an impression, we have our ways of remaining."
"That was beautifully said."
"I hang out with Joe a lot, what can I say? He has a way with words that puts even that to shame." Zed slipped back into his easygoing demeanour after slight seriousness. "He used the word alacrity the other day. I was in awe."
"I have no idea what that means." Mumbo admitted with a low chuckle.
"Oh neither, but it was still impressive." The blonde shrugged with a grin. "Now, let's get your find a place to live, shall we?"