As the chalk marks its final stroke, the lecturer exhales a long breath.
Windsong: Class is over.
Windsong: Thank goodness, I still remembered the basic premises of "Ley Lines and Biology."
Windsong: Feel free to ask me any questions.
Windsong: Cheer up, little ones. There won't be any exams for this subject.
She offers a hesitant joke to ease the awkwardness of the class.
But their usual playful responses never emerge.
Windsong: Mm?
She turns to face a class that must be bored, asleep, maybe distracted. She's met instead by clear and focused eyes.
Avgust: Ms. Windsong, are you going to dig up those potatoes alone again?
Nina: Is there anything we can do to help you?
Nina: Ms. Vila said we will work together to beat the critters out there.
Nina: That we will find their weakness as long as we finish the map with you!
Pyotr: Just like how you taught us to!
Pyotr: "Qiqirn are not dangerous at all. They are plant-eating critters and pose little threat to humans."
Avgust: I have ropes, flowers, and white gloves. We will dig up a lot of potatoes together.
Avgust: Pyotr is strong. He can move any rocks that are in our way. Nina can prepare a kettle of warm water for everyone. And ...
The children's voices rise and fall. What began as icy determination soon melts into a cascade of sobbing tears.
Windsong: I'm sorry, little ones.
Windsong: I wish I could verify all the theories we've been working on, but ...
Pyotr: ...
She affixes Rayashki's ley energy map to the blackboard, circling an empty void.
Windsong: As you can see, a critical part is missing.
Windsong: It might take months to finish it.
Windsong: Besides, there may be even more dangerous critters in that area.
Avgust: Then the town will become the witch's new castle? Or perhaps an empty castle.
Kids: ...
Her attempt to turn the mood again falls flat.
A merciful bell rings out the dreary topic like a dirge.
Thankfully, the next teacher arrives swiftly to relieve her.
Vila: Quiet, children.
She holds her gaze firm, sweeping over the assembled children.
Vila: Wipe your tears and cheer up! Our Rayashki will stand strong!
Pyotr: Really?!
Windsong: But what are you going to do?
Windsong is taken aback at first. Then, contemplating the possibilities, she delicately weighs her words.
Windsong: Vila, I hope you aren't seriously considering Zeno's ...
Vila: Of course not. They might try, but we will never give in!
Vila: No matter what, for now, we must find a way to protect our town. We will need a shelter from these critters.
Vila: We've all decided to stay.
The curtains part, and sunlight pours in from outside.
Vila: Look outside, children.
Vila: Each and every one of us is doing what we can to hold our town together.
Avgust: Knut's factory is spitting out puffy bubbles.
Vila: Heh heh.
Vila: The workers are going to transform the abandoned factories into something useful.
Vila: They are cleaning the ore and debris there. Not an easy job.
Vila: After that, we will start new production lines and cooperate with the surrounding cities. We will grow potatoes, breed fish, and make canned food. We will find our strengths together!
Avgust: Are we putting makeup on the factories? We can paint their faces and put beautiful garlands on them!
Nina: Hmm? So what is Mr. Patrik doing?
Avgust: Everyone's waiting in line. Is it the tin-hat festival again?
Vila: I'm sorry, Avgust. I think we will have to live without our tin hats and Comrade Blinchik for a long time.
Vila: They are signing on to a reform of our rationing.
Vila: To transform our factories, we need to cut down the budget for the canteen.
Avgust: Oh, thank you for your sacrifice, Comrade Blinchik.
Avgust: You deserve a medal and some chocolate!
Pasono: Look, the bulldozers are tearing down those houses!
Vila: Yes. We all agreed to exchange some of our living space.
Vila: For more land to grow food.
The children crowd the window, silent but beaming with pride, as if paying tribute.
Windsong follows Vila's narrative to its conclusion.
Windsong: The price is much higher than it first seemed. Is it worth it?
Vila: Of course.
Vila: You cannot find what we have here in Zeno's barracks, or in a relief camp. You can't find it anywhere in the world.
Vila: Think about the old comrades and the babies. They are the past and the future of Rayashki. How could we leave them behind or subject them to Zeno's whims?
Mechanical sounds from outside carry across the snow from afar, as if the land itself is calling.
Vila: No one shall ever be abandoned in Rayashki.
Windsong: I think people out there would be envious if they saw what you are doing here.
She doesn't press further.
Vila: We really aren't doing anything so special. We're only doing our job, our duty to one another.
Her scales and spines have risen, though whether it's a sign of pride or fear, she can't say.
Windsong: There are lots of conflicts out there, conflicts like the one between humans and Rusalki.
Windsong: Like the ones that mocked the study of ley lines and dissolved our school. They did so simply because it might take from their funds or steal their glory.
Windsong: Everyone forever building walls, just to keep separated from each other—Hoarding whatever they could get their hands on.
Windsong: Then they blame the aftermath—the harm they do to others on "cruel realities."
Windsong: Heh, "cruel reality." It seems to be everyone's mortal enemy, the cause of all suffering, war, greed—the perfect excuse to never care.
Her voice trails into a mutter.
Vila: But things are different in Rayashki.
Vila: They took me in unconditionally when I came here. And they stayed friendly for a week, a month, a year, and even now.
Vila: So naturally, it became my dream, too.
Vila: Everyone here shares a beautiful dream, a dream that we can work and enjoy life together.
Vila: That someday there will be no more conflicts between people or worries about tomorrow. That everyone will be able to work to achieve their passions whatever field they wish to pursue. A utopia.
Vila: It's not just a way of life for now, but the future we're always trying to reach.
Windsong: ...
Vila: I've spread the study of ley lines in Rayashki, along with its potential.
A simple invitation catches Windsong's eye, with dense, messy signatures filling every possible space.
Vila: They showed great interest. The study tells us about the secrets that could lie beneath the earth, after all.
Vila: "Perhaps it will bring hope to Rayashki."
Windsong: But, I'm not one of you.
Vila: You taught the children something new, and you helped us explore our town's potential, didn't you?
Vila: Everyone here is more than happy to help you. You know, Comrade Knut has been boasting about the assistance he was able to provide for your studies.
Vila: And many others are envious. They want to help you, too.
Vila: More importantly, you already have a group of curious students here willing to study your theory.
Windsong: ...
Vila: Now, allow me to ask you again, Comrade Windsong.
Vila: Would you hold a lecture on ley lines for all the citizens of Rayashki?
Windsong: Even though my research doesn't have any endorsements or achievements?
Vila: Of course. Perhaps we can be the first to endorse it, after your lecture.
Windsong: You're being far too obvious in your recruitment tactics.
Vila smiles, ignoring her feigned protest.
Vila: The world is not a beautiful place. Poverty, privilege, egoism, exclusivism, so many problems.
Vila: But that doesn't mean it can't get better in the future.
Vila: Perhaps, the experiment we're doing in Rayashki now will become the symbol of a better future, a new world where all races and ideas can coexist.
Vila: Well, of course, it may fail and end up a ruin.
Vila: But at least we've tried.
Windsong: ...
She watches Vila standing proudly, as if gazing at a great ship bound for distant shores.
Venturing all, never shrinking back.
Vila: We love our home, and we're ready to devote our lives to it.
Windsong: I can't shake the feeling you're inviting me aboard a leaky boat that could sink any moment.
Vila: Maybe, Comrade Windsong. But should we sink, remember your friend is a Rusalka, and we do well underwater.
Windsong blinks, half-wondering if her new friend has gone mad.
And finding it madder still that she is reaching out to solemnly accept the invitation.
Windsong: What an honor.
