Mystery: Gray Walker

Chapter 146

Green looked up. The carriage stopped in front of a solemn, greyish-white stone building.

The building is in a classical style, with tall columns and arched windows, and the words "History and Archaeology Society of Oberhafen" are engraved in cursive script on the lintel.

It stands quietly on a secluded street diagonally opposite the conference building, exuding a solemn sense of timelessness compared to the more modern buildings around it.

After paying the fare, the two stepped off the carriage. The steps in front of the school were wide and very clean. Two stone owl sculptures, symbols of wisdom, perched on either side of the porch, their gazes seemingly watching over every visitor.

Anaïs took a deep breath. Green could sense her nervousness, and he nodded slightly to her, gesturing for her to go first.

Pushing open the heavy oak door, a unique scent wafts out, a mixture of old books, parchment, dust, and a faint wood wax aroma.

Inside the door is a wide and high-ceilinged foyer, where light streams in through tall stained-glass windows, casting dappled shadows on the floor.

The air was unusually quiet, with only the faint rustling of pages turning and hushed conversations coming from afar.

There was a reception desk on one side of the lobby, behind which sat an elderly gentleman with gray hair and gold-rimmed glasses, engrossed in writing something on a huge register.

Hearing footsteps, he looked up and glanced at the two of them through his thick glasses, his gaze lingering on Anaïs for a moment.

"Who are you looking for?" the old man asked, squinting his eyes.

Anaïs stepped forward and curtsied slightly. "Good day, sir. I am Anaïs Violet, granddaughter of Alfred Violet. This is my colleague, Mr. Grin Morris. We wish to visit Lady Margaret Elliott, whom we met briefly at the Viscount Fairfax's dinner party, where she granted us permission to consult with her about some questions concerning my grandfather's manuscripts."

Upon hearing the names "Violet" and "Elliot," the old man's expression visibly relaxed.

He adjusted his glasses, looked closely at Anaïs, and then glanced at Green, seemingly confirming their identities and purpose.

"Miss Violet—well, I remember Mrs. Elliott mentioning her," he said slowly, flipping through another booklet. "Do you have an appointment?"

"No, sir."

Anna Yitan said, "But our matter is somewhat urgent; it concerns some discoveries that may have historical value."

Could you please inform your family that if it is inconvenient for Madam, we can come another day?

The old gentleman hesitated for a moment, seemingly weighing his options. Finally, he nodded: "Mrs. Elliott should be in the archives this morning. Please wait a moment, I'll go and ask."

He stood up and walked somewhat slowly toward a tightly closed carved wooden door deep in the foyer.

While waiting, Green's gaze swept over the portraits of past presidents hanging on the wall and some pottery fragments and ancient coin specimens in the display case, trying to catch any unusual spiritual fluctuations, but the place seemed to be shrouded in a neutral and peaceful atmosphere, and he could not feel any obvious abnormality.

A few minutes later, the old man returned, a hint of surprise on his face.

"Mrs. Elliott is willing to see you. Please follow me; she requests that you go directly to her private research room."

This treatment clearly exceeded Green's expectations. He glanced at Anaïs, whose eyes also flashed with a hint of surprise and nervousness.

The two followed the old gentleman through the foyer and up a wide staircase covered with a thick carpet. The walls on either side of the staircase were adorned with more woodblock prints depicting ancient ruins, nautical charts, and celestial phenomena. The higher they climbed, the stronger the scent of old paper and the passage of time became.

Finally, they stopped in front of a heavy oak door on the third floor. The old man knocked gently on the door.

"Come in." Mrs. Elliott's familiar, calm voice came from inside the door.

The old man pushed open the door and stepped aside. Green and Anaïs went inside.

This is a spacious but slightly cluttered research room.

The tall bookshelves stretched from floor to ceiling, crammed with books, files, and folders of all colors and thicknesses.

A large walnut desk occupied the center of the room, piled high with ancient books, manuscripts, a magnifying glass, and drawing tools. In one corner of the room stood a small fireplace, its roaring fire dispelling the chill of the room.

Mrs. Margaret Elliott was sitting behind her desk.

Today she was wearing a deep purple wool dress with a black knitted cardigan over it, and her hair was still neatly styled in a bun.

She looked up, first letting the light fall on Anaïs, nodded slightly, and then turned to Green.

"Miss Violet, Mr. Morris."

She put down her quill pen. "Please sit down."

There were two chairs in the room for visitors. Green and Anaïs sat down as instructed.

"I didn't expect you to arrive so quickly."

Mrs. Elliott said directly, "I thought you would first organize Alfred's manuscripts and list the specific questions."

Anaïs quickly explained, "Madam, I apologize for this unannounced visit."

She took out the notebook she had prepared beforehand from her handbag, which contained several obscure symbols and paragraphs selected from her grandfather's manuscripts.

"Mainly these few places,"

She opened her notebook and pointed to a page. "The variations and combinations of symbols cannot be found in the reference system that my grandfather usually used, and the context is also vague. We guess that this may involve some more obscure local occult symbols, or — it may be a kind of abbreviation system that my grandfather developed in his later research."

Mrs. Elliott took the notebook, put on her glasses, and examined it carefully for a moment. Her brow furrowed slightly: "Hmm—it's certainly not common. This combination of spirals and triangles is somewhat like a variation of ancient highland tribal sacrificial symbols, but it also incorporates celestial positioning markings—Alfred's research in his later years became increasingly eccentric and personal."

She handed the notebook back, saying, "The society's archives contain some documents about highland tribes and early star worship, but it's hard to say whether they can be directly compared. You can request to access copies of the relevant sections for comparison."

"Thank you very much, madam."

Anaïs said gratefully, then, seemingly casually, added in a tone tinged with curiosity and longing, "Grandfather often said that the Society's collection is as vast as the sea, and one can always find unexpected clues. I heard that the Society recently acquired a batch of very old documents? I wonder if they might contain the origin records of these obscure symbols—"

Mrs. Elliott looked up at Anaïs, a knowing glint in her eyes, but her tone remained calm: "Your information network is quite impressive. The Society did acquire several ancient manuscripts recently through an anonymous donor. However—" She paused, "the condition of those manuscripts is extremely poor; they are severely brittle, and most of the text and illustrations are barely legible. Preliminary restoration and organization work is underway. Currently, they are restricted access items, not open to the general public, let alone used for comparison with private manuscripts."

Her words blocked the possibility of direct contact under the guise of research, but they also confirmed the existence and special nature of the manuscript.

Anaïs's face timely revealed a look of disappointment and understanding: "I see—that's such a pity. It must be very valuable historical material."

At this point, Green spoke up, his tone carrying the curiosity and caution typical of researchers when it comes to precious historical materials: "Madam, please forgive our intrusion. It's just that Miss Violet mentioned her grandfather's high regard for all kinds of ancient documents, which has made us yearn for the Society's newly acquired treasures. May I ask—approximately what era those manuscripts belong to? What topics do they cover? Of course, if it involves confidentiality, then just pretend we didn't ask." He asked skillfully, expressing interest while maintaining a humble stance, throwing the question back to Mrs. Elliott to see how much she was willing to reveal.

Mrs. Elliott was silent for a few seconds, her fingers tapping unconsciously on the table. The firelight reflected off her glasses, creating flickering spots of light.

"Date — preliminary judgment suggests it may be earlier than the Fifth Period, or even earlier."

She spoke slowly, lowering her voice, "The content is extremely obscure, seemingly a mixture of various now-lost scripts and symbolic systems, involving—fragments of accounts about dreams, spirit travel, and ancient covenants. The restorers are making slow progress because they've never seen many of the symbols before."

Predating the Fifth Age! Dreams, spirit world travel, ancient covenants!

Green's heart skipped a beat. Any one of these keywords would be enough to cause a stir in the extraordinary world.

No wonder "Fan Garden" was interested! The value of this manuscript probably far exceeds his previous imagination.

He forcefully suppressed the turmoil in his heart, his face revealing just the right amount of shock and academic curiosity: "Earlier than the Fifth Age?"

This—this is an absolutely astonishing discovery! No wonder it requires such strict protection.

Mrs. Elliott glanced at him, seemingly trying to read more from his face, but Green controlled himself well.

"Yes, so at this stage, any contact requires strict approval."

Mrs. Elliott reiterated the restrictions, but then subtly shifted her tone. "However—if you are interested in the origins of certain symbolic systems that may be involved in the manuscript, and are willing to sign a confidentiality agreement in the name of assisting with symbol comparison—perhaps, in the presence of the restorer, you may be allowed to view one or two relatively complete pages that have been preliminarily cleared. This requires the joint approval of President Holland and several other senior committee members, and will depend on the progress of the restoration."

This is almost an unexpected breakthrough! Although the conditions are harsh, at least there's a possibility of seeing some of the content.

Green immediately appeared flattered and serious: "Madam, if we had the opportunity to observe and learn from this, even just a fragment, it would be of great help to our understanding of Mr. Violet's manuscript and to broaden our horizons. We are fully willing to abide by any confidentiality regulations and the arrangements of the Society."

Anaïs quickly nodded in agreement.

Mrs. Elliott nodded slightly: "I will report your situation and wishes to President Holland. But don't get your hopes up too high; the approval process may be lengthy, and whether it will ultimately happen depends on many factors."

She stood up, seemingly signaling the end of the main agenda for the meeting. "Now, I'll take you to the general archives area, where you can consult the records related to the highland tribes and star worship mentioned earlier. Remember the rules."

"Yes, madam. Thank you very much."

Green and Anaïs thanked them again, but they both knew in their hearts that the greatest gain today was not the ordinary files they were about to see, but the confirmation of that ancient manuscript and that faint, hard-won possibility of viewing it.

Mrs. Elliott picked up the bunch of brass keys and walked toward a small door on the other side of the study.

Behind the door was a narrow, dimly lit corridor.

The walls were made of thick stone bricks, illuminated only by a few gas lamps embedded in the walls and covered with brass grids, their light barely dispelling the heavy shadows. The air was colder and drier than outside, filled with a mixture of the smells of old paper, tanned parchment, and faint insect repellent.

The footsteps echoed in the quiet corridor, sounding exceptionally clear.

The corridor wasn't long, ending at a heavy oak door covered in iron. There were no windows, only a complex brass keyhole. Mrs. Elliott stopped, inserted one of the keys from her bunch into the keyhole, and slowly turned it.

"Click—creak—"

The door lock made a heavy sound.

Inside the door was a larger space than Green had imagined.

The high dome and rows of huge, floor-to-ceiling dark wooden filing cabinets stand neatly arranged like silent giants.

The shelves were crammed with boxes of all sizes, dossiers, and large books with leather covers.

The light came from several cleverly refracted skylights in the dome and from gas lamps with glass shades hanging in the passageways between the filing shelves. The overall light was still dim, but enough to see the labels and retrieve the documents.

This is one of the core storage sites of the Historical and Archaeological Society.

"Over here."

Mrs. Elliott whispered, leading them toward a row of filing shelves on the right.

She seemed extremely familiar with the place, and soon stopped in front of a shelf labeled "Highland Tribal Folklore and Symbols," pulling out a flat, thinly dusty cardboard box from the middle.

"Here are rubbings of relevant symbols and copies made by early researchers. You can view them at the reading table here."

""

She pointed to a long wooden table with a lamp fixed to the side of the passageway not far away, "Remember, you can only look at it here, you can't take it away, and you can't damage it. Put it back where it is after you're done. I'll have the caretaker come over later."

"Yes, madam," Anaïs replied quickly, taking the box.

Mrs. Elliott nodded, but did not leave immediately. She looked at Green, remained silent for a few seconds, and then said in a very low voice, "Mr. Morris, you seem particularly interested in that newly acquired manuscript?"

Green felt a slight chill run down his spine, but maintained a calm expression: "Any researcher would be curious about documents that may predate the Fifth Age, madam. Especially those concerning—mysterious realms."