Windsong: 1, 2, 3, and 4. Good. They're all here.
Windsong sets aside the notes in her hand. It's still too early for anyone to have arrived at the lecture hall.
Windsong: So cold in here. And there's a different shade of gray to this place compared to Rayashki. Even the "lines" in this room seem sharp enough to slice off the tips of my fingers if I dared touch them.
Windsong: sigh
She holds her wrist with her other hand in an attempt to steady its uncontrollable trembling. This always happens when she's nervous.
Windsong: Now breathe, Windsong.
She draws in a long breath, feeling the crisp air fill her lungs.
Windsong: ...
It brings back a vivid memory of Rayashki.
Resident I: Are you leaving already, Comrade Windsong?
Windsong: I'm afraid so. Lots to do and so little time to do it. If everything goes smoothly there, I might be able to return before the kids come back from the Foundation.
Resident I: Off for a publicity tour for Rayashki, eh? Make sure you tell them about all the wonderful things we have here!
Resident II: Yes! They must come and try our Ukha and the potato stew, too!
Resident I: Speaking of which, have you prepared anything for the road, Comrade Windsong?
These words are like a signal. Suddenly, a plethora of packages are thrust into her arms from all directions.
Windsong: Oh!
Before long, her arms are filled with cheeses of all shapes and sizes.
Windsong: Thank you, thank you all. This is a generous amount of cheese for one trip.
Resident II: Hah, I see what you're getting at. Of course, we can't have you eating nothing but cheese the whole time!
More packages are shoved into her arms.
Beetroot, a large ham, a portable gas stove, and a lonely wool sock.
Resident I: Take care, Comrade Windsong!
Crowd: Safe journey, Comrade Windsong!
The steamship horn sounds, echoing across the bay to the mountains in the distance. They stand tall and gray, the silent guardians of the town and its people.
In the lingering echo of the horn, the ship departs from the dock. Windsong looks back at the shore; the people of Rayashki are still there, waving to her. She manages a wave in return.
The wind becomes more biting, and the snow stings her face. She waves until the town and its people fade from sight and heads to the cabin with her luggage.
She remembers traversing lands covered in snow and lush vegetation, passing the towering mountains and the open bay. She changed from ship to train, from train to car, and despite her best efforts to keep the cheese wrappers intact, they started to fall apart.
Just like her memories of Rayashki.
Her heart sinks at the thought of that little town. The entire place gone, and these cheeses some of the last things left to prove it ever existed. She takes out one of the packages, takes a small bite, and carefully wraps it back up.
Windsong: ...
Windsong: Heh, Windsong, still believe you have a home to return to.
She runs her fingers over the wrinkled wax paper.
Windsong: ...!
She rubs her face and straightens up.
Windsong: Come on. Not now. You've got a speech to give.
Windsong: Let's see. I'll start with a brief introduction of myself, then move on to the history of the study of ley lines, followed by ... Hmm.
Windsong: They may have some questions on environmental analysis for me. Or, perhaps, they'll ask about the geological conditions in Rayashki.
Windsong: Better to keep the geologic map handy. Here it is.
Windsong: What else will they want to know? The nature of ley energy—that could be one.
She hears some indistinct chatter coming from the end of the hallway.
Windsong: Hm?
She stares at the door. The muffled arguments quickly become clearer, and soon two researchers in Laplace uniforms step inside.
Researcher I: Look, I don't want to be mean, but I brought this to you a long time ago. You were very—
Windsong: ...
The argument comes to a sudden halt as they lay eyes on her.
Windsong: Welcome, comrades. Are you both here for the lecture? Please take a seat. Make yourselves comfortable.
She gestures toward the chairs, but one of them walks straight up to her.
Researcher I: Are you giving the lecture today? Are you the ley hunter?
Windsong: What gave it away? You can call me Windsong.
Researcher I: A ley hunter in real life!
He leans toward her, as if inspecting a specimen in a glass case. Before Windsong can react, he speaks again.
Researcher I: May I ask you a few questions?
Researcher I: Why are you still studying ley lines?
Windsong: Hm?
Windsong: Because ...
She opens her notebook, but it provides her with no answer.
Researcher I: That can't possibly be your major project, can it? So what is it, then? Geology? Environmental planning?
Windsong: No, I ...
Her only study has been, and will always be, that of ley lines.
Researcher I: Only the study of ley lines?
Windsong: Yes.
She's relieved that she can finally give a positive response.
But the two researchers exchange a bewildered look.
Researcher II: But, Ms. Windsong, I don't think there's much research or many studies concerning ley lines these days—well, there aren't any, if we're honest. Who's funding it? Are there any ongoing projects or publications?
Researcher I: I haven't seen any studies that included ley lines in their research. Is the study of ley lines considered a scientific discipline or more of an arcane one? Which journals or publishers do you usually send your papers to?
Researcher II: And what made you stick with it?
Windsong responds with a bitter smile.
Windsong: Well, it's a long story.
She hears more footsteps coming down the hallway.
Researcher III: ...
Researcher IV: Mm?
One after another, researchers file into the lecture hall.
Windsong feels the curious eyes of some as they pass by.
Researcher V & VI: ...
Most, however, take their seats quietly.
Windsong: Why don't you go join the others? We'll be starting any minute.
The researcher nods and steps back from the podium. He finds a seat at the front, placing his notebook on the table before him. Windsong meets his eager eyes.
Researcher I: Would you share with us how you got into this field of study?
His friend also takes a seat in the first row.
The murmurs lower as more and more are seated. Windsong takes a bracing breath and rings the bell on the podium.
The lights dim. All eyes are focused on her.
Microphone: Buzzz ...
Windsong: Ahem. Sorry.
Windsong: Welcome, comrades, fellow researchers. It is an honor to be here to share some ideas in the study of ley lines with you.
The crowd responds with sparse clapping.
Windsong: My name is Windsong. I'm a ley hunter. Our topic today is ...
Windsong: "Ley Lines in Environmental Analysis: A Geological Survey of Rayashki."
She taps the keyboard, and the topic emerges on the projector screen.
Windsong: Some of you may have heard of the study of ley lines, while for others it may be a novelty. Although not a new discovery, ley lines are unfortunately given little attention in today's academia.
Windsong: Its study emerged in the early 20th century and, for the next 50 years, played an auxiliary role in other disciplines—geography, biology, even applied physics. It helped many researchers in various fields, but its value in and of itself was underrated.
Windsong: It was a desperate time. That was until Comrade Tristan Lisov came along.
Windsong: He is the genius that every discipline dreams of having. In no more than ten years, he brought the study to its peak.
Windsong: "The 21st century belongs to the study of ley lines," he said.
Windsong: Just like many other ley hunters, I was deeply encouraged by his words.
Windsong: Like a fire smoldering under the ashes, they got us through those hopeless times.
She scans the faces lit by the projection screen, hoping to see their reactions.
She notices the first researcher's face. His eyes are fixed on her as he tries to understand where the story is going.
Researcher I: Would you share with us how you got into this field of study?
Windsong: ...
Windsong: Before we get into more detail, I have a question for you all.
Windsong: When it comes to a school of thought, who do you need more—those that get the work done or the ones that make it popular?
Windsong: Don't worry. Take some time to think about it, and I'll come back to it at the end.
Windsong: As I said earlier, I was enthralled by Lisov's enthusiasm and ambition and became a ley hunter. It was a remarkable time; under his guidance, we all had unwavering faith in this discipline.
