The question of where their curious little dreamer has disappeared soon becomes a true conundrum,
as their search through the dockyard, the post office, and even the town phone booth reveals no trace of him.
This is, of course, because he has assigned himself a more critical mission: welcoming newcomers.
A difficult task, especially when it leads him so far away. But he is not alone. His sunflower hops along with him.
Avgust: Vila once said that sunflowers mean warmth, and that makes them everyone's friends.
Avgust: They would warmly welcome every guest that comes to town.
Avgust: Just like my best friend here, right?
He raises the sunflower in his hand and whispers softly to its petals.
Avgust: Best friends ... Everyone should have a best friend.
He then picks up the pendant.
Following his whispers, the pendant emits a faint glow.
Avgust: ♪ ... ♬ ...
Avgust: Alright! Now here are big friends, small friends, many, many friends!
Avgust: So that our new guests won't feel so lonely when they come!
The small footprints continue forward through the snow, imprinting over older, larger steps.
He has nearly caught up with Rayashki's newest guest.
???: Amazing! I've never seen such a highly mutated Ijiraq before.
???: I would have missed these precious research opportunities if there weren't a gathering in the town.
Windsong: Windsong, seems like life has been good to you and your theory.
She stares intently at the beasts in front of her, her written notes hardly keeping pace with her whispered observations.
Windsong: The disorder in ley energy here has not only caused the exhaustion of the runium mines, but has also mutated local critters to varying degrees.
Windsong: ...
Windsong: Then Zeno was right. No wonder they have sent so many researchers here to look for abnormalities, even the crank ones like me.
Windsong: It's obvious that this town has more to it than a handful of overly active critters.
Windsong: But they don't seem especially interested in the mutant ones either.
Windsong: Zeno, what were you looking for here?
Avgust: happy chuckles
Windsong: ...!
A sudden movement passing under her coat brings her out of her monologue.
*flop*
Windsong: Mmm?!
Windsong: Hey! Let go! Let go of my leg!
Avgust: sniffs
Avgust: Strange! You're not a fox, and you're not a sable.
The appearance of this unknown child brings, at first, confusion, followed swiftly by panic.
Windsong: Hey! Kid, what are you doing?!
She picks herself up, dusting off a small flurry of snowflakes.
Unfortunately, Windsong is not the only one startled by the child.
Ijiraq: roars
Windsong: Oh, shoot. Ijiraqs are usually known for their good temper. It seems to not apply to their mutant kin.
Rugged antlers aim squarely at the researcher.
The creature's nose puffs with each aggravated breath.
Windsong: Fine.
COMBAT
Windsong: Природа это числа и черты.
Avgust: Umm?
Avgust: Are you building blocks here?!
Ijiraq: roars
The startled Ijiraq runs off into the distance.
Windsong: Phew! Lucky for us, it seems to still be afraid of the dark, like the rest of its kind.
Windsong: It's finally over.
Her satisfaction fades as she takes stock of her surroundings.
Windsong: Oh! My materials!
Avgust: Wow! You are the most "most"!
His little hands struggle to reach any higher. He pats the freezing hand of the researcher.
Avgust: You drove away all the bad critters and protected everyone!
Avgust: The swans on the stage, the big burning furnaces in the factory, and even the uncles sleeping in the mine with Papa ... I think they would all give you a big thumbs-up!
Windsong: ...?
She sighs, resigned that she must now deal with her uninvited guest.
Though, in fact, she is the one here uninvited.
Windsong: Ahem, you can call me Windsong.
Windsong: Just to be clear, I'm not a spy, kid. I'm just a traveler staying in town for the moment.
She casually raises an identification card in her hand, a card adorned with a familiar sunflower pattern.
Avgust: Oh! But I have never seen you before!
Avgust: Do you also like to rest in the water? Like Vila?
Avgust: Do you also have a beautiful blue tail?
His strange questions prove difficult to parse, even one at a time, but the little boy circles around her, unleashing more in salvo after salvo.
Windsong: I have no idea what you're talking about, but I'm certain that I'm not what you think I am, little fellow.
Windsong: I am a researcher. We often stay in quiet corners when we work on a project, so you won't see us often. Understand?
Avgust: Researchers? Like those people on TV?
Avgust: I saw them stand on a tall tall stage, with flowers in their arms. They spoke a lot and cried, and then they were given a shiny medal.
Avgust: Vila said the medals were to praise them for being very clever.
Avgust: Can I see your medal?
Windsong: ...
This last salvo penetrated deep. Windsong's face twitches unnaturally.
Windsong: Haha. Oh! The crystal on you looks stunning. It looks purer than those in the mine carts.
Her gaze centered on it, a beautiful crystal hanging on the boy's neck. A chance possibly to stop his barrage of questions.
Avgust: Of course. Papa gave it to me.
His small chest swells with pride.
Windsong: It is precious, but also very dangerous. A crystal like this is almost as volatile as undiluted runium ore. They use this stuff for war machines!
Windsong: Kid, listen to me, put that away. Go home now, and don't let anyone see it. Understand?
Windsong: It could stimulate the critters' appetite!
Avgust: Ah!
Windsong nods with satisfaction, eager to see him leave.
Unfortunately, the sunflower gently brushes up against her arm once more.
Avgust: Can you build a very, very tall wall? One that can protect the whole town? Like what you did with the blocks?
Windsong: I'm sorry, little fellow.
She points to the now-empty patch of snow-covered ground.
Windsong: That was just a trick. It won't last long.
Avgust: No, that was amazing!
Avgust: Nina, Knut, Vila—everyone should learn from you!
Avgust: Could I make the dirt and stones listen to me like you did one day? Will I be great like you?
Windsong: ...
Windsong: A strange kid like you should live in the Age of Aquarius and be a part of the New Age Movement, or become some kind of Yogi doing meditation.
Windsong: And do it anywhere but here.
Avgust: The New Age Movement? What is that?!
Her helpless attempt at turning him away goes without notice; worse still, it seems to intrigue him.
Avgust: Is that where you're from?
Windsong: It's not a place. It's a spirit of a time. Full of interesting things—like crystals, new schools of thought, many crazy and creative ideas.
Avgust: Will the sun close its eyes? Will the dark clouds spit on people?
Avgust: Will their ships blow bubbles under the water?
Somehow, the persistent questions stop being a source of annoyance.
The subtle warmth of his boundless wonder shakes loose the frost from her heart.
Her smile turning from feigned to genuine.
Windsong: Of course! They even believe that the world is a giant piece of blank paper, and they are the artists drawing on it.
Windsong: And not only that, they are obsessed with bizarre ideas. Where did the Stonehenge on the Salisbury Plain come from? Where are the ships and planes which traveled past the Sargasso Sea now?
Avgust: I like them!
The child's voice blurs the edges between reality and pleasant memories of her past, to a time when there were others that thought like her.
Windsong: They called themselves ley hunters, the apprentices of a once-renowned school of thought. However, few people in academic circles accepted the idea of ley lines as an answer to their questions.
Windsong: So for these ley hunters, it has been a long walk through a dark night.
Avgust: Then they can come to Rayashki! Here, the sun never sets! Half the year, anyways.
Avgust: Then I can be their friend! And when I grow up, I will be a ley hunter too!
Windsong tightens her scarf, as if warding off a chill.
Windsong: I'm afraid it's a bit too late, little fellow.
Windsong: Most have already given up. They lost interest in solving the mysteries and lost their faith in finding the curves and the lines. So the study of ley lines has been all but abandoned.
Windsong: There's only one fool left that hasn't given it up.
She speaks wistfully, entranced in that daze of memory, oblivious to the nearing sound of footsteps behind her.
Avgust: Shhh!
Windsong: ...?
Vila: And you, I suppose, are this "only one fool," yes?
Vila pulls Avgust toward her protectively and reproaches him with a ruffle of the child's hair.
Windsong: Ah! Please, ma'am, believe me, I am not a child abductor!
Vila: Well ...
Windsong offers a pained gesture towards the boy.
Vila: I think this isn't a good place to receive our guest. We have much more appropriate arrangements for new friends.
Vila: But ...
Vila: If our guest has any ill intentions, we will retaliate.
Windsong: Umm.