"Honestly, it's great to finally start on archaeology," you say, "although the reading is killing me. It's great to finally get some space, although I have to keep up on my studies if I want to keep my scholarship."
"I imagine you've got lots of new friends," says Shell.
"Hah! I barely have time to talk to anyone, you're the first person I've had a decent conversation with since I started last week. Incidentally, I love the outfit."
"Thank you! It's a pain to keep things fresh sometime. Hey, maybe I could lend you one of my dresses?"
"Not really a dress girl, but I'll try if on if you like..."
You settle into an easy rhythm of conversation. Talking with Shell has always been natural, and though the big city has given her a few strange ideas and habits over the years, it's good to be with your friend again.
The cafe is nice as well, very traditional Argentaine with glass tables and wicker chairs. The clientèle are decidedly hipster coffee types, mind; you spot three students in polo necks and woollen jumpers drinking fancy lattes; an older woman more elaborately dressed than Shell with a china cup of tea; a grey-bearded man in a black coat and fedora; and a handsome, unshaven type with a ridiculous open shirt.
Shell treats you to tea; it's nice to have money, which Shell has in spades. Even better to have friends who don't mention your own poverty. After a leisurely chat in the cafe (Shell leaves a five pound tip), the pair of you head to the museum, a vast old stone building with a pair of fairytale towers at the front and a huge arched doorway distinctly reminiscent of cathedrals. You have an annual membership pass, arranged for you by your mother as an 18th birthday gift, so entry is free for you, although Shell has to buy a day ticket.
The pair of you wander through the oriental exhibits near the entrance, marvelling at the interior of the museum, the central chamber of which is a vast arched hallway, with definite cathedral-esque design influences and broad clear glass windows that let in copious amounts of light. You chat cheerfully, taking a few pictures where photography is permitted (no flash, but the light is good), until Shell notices something.
"Ooh! There's an exhibition on Arthagan textiles, that looks fun."
"Not really my thing, Shell. Why don't you go take a look, we'll meet back up here after?"
"Oh sure, you going to be okay?"
"Not a problem, there's a medieval exhibit I want to take a look at."
"Alright, honey, see you in half an hour."
You exchange kisses and part ways, yourself tracking off in search of the medieval exhibition. You find it soon enough and take some time to study the various artefacts that have been dug up, cleaned and in some cases restored. In pride of place is an exhibit of seven items in a glass display case, which is currently being studied by an old man in a black coat and fedora. You settle in beside him and, seeing the photograph sign on the label, take a photograph.
Laid in place are a bronze representation of a tooth, a silver cup, a long-rusted iron sword with scabbard, an empty brass tube, some sort of long-rusted iron circle or disc, a perfect rectangle of gold (bar a circular imprint in the centre) and a silver statue of an oak tree (sans leaves). There is a plaque next to the objects.
Each of these objects were found across the Emerald Isles in separate sites across Wessen, Caladon and Emerald, typically in burial mounds. Although buried or lost over a period of three centuries, each of them bears the circular maker's mark of a smith in the court of King Aed I, believed to be the legendary 'Brann the Smith'. Some of the items may be forgeries by later craftsmen, perhaps intended to ape the achievements of the semi-mythical metalworker, but for whatever reason these items were deemed important enough to be preserved and honoured.