Windsong

The exact number shows how distinct this accessory is. "This is an essential investment, especially when you're trying to convince others of the importance of your project.

A seemingly ordinary bamboo scroll that has accompanied the interviewee through countless days and nights. Within it, she records her experiences; both simple and complex; light and weighty alongside the fleeting emotions etched during its carving.

A hat with an unusually wide brim, meant to conceal the interviewee's fair hair and let it blend into the night.

Within its ruby ornament lies a drop of vampire blood, its scent a quiet guarantee to the castle's master that the midnight banquet shall proceed as planned, with no uninvited guests in attendance.

Prototype goggles with ranging and projection functions. The nocturnal bird design doesn't just meet aesthetic requirements, but also aids even total beginners in easily detecting ley lines.

"Never expected that I'd one day make such a 'Laplace-style' thing." The interviewee smiles when demonstrating how it works, "Think about what we'll be able to do now that they're easier to see clearly ..."

A tool often used by humans in geophysical prospecting, yet imbued with unmistakable arcane modifications. The interviewee demonstrated its paramount importance in the study of ley lines—presenting it as a symbol of the arcanum's interdisciplinarity.

"I've wandered through magnificent mountains and rivers, growing accustomed to the cycle of seasons. What remains unchanged is the eternal moon above and the jade-carved object in my hand," the interviewee remarked.

A rifled flintlock. Each bullet has been cleansed with holy water and consecrated through arcane ritual. The patterned grooves set into the gun's stock derive from recent advances in ley line studies—it is said that they can guide bullets. The interviewee described the principle with enthusiasm, but we declined her offer to demonstrate it on the spot.

An LSCC researcher ID card. The symbol of not only a job, but a place she belongs after all the twists and turns.

ID card customization has become a trend among researchers. In this case, the interviewee has added a tiny rock from a certain mining town. Though not "precious" in the traditional sense, it has a reassuring weight.

These delicate papers hold the remnants of a once-thriving academic field. We are lucky to catch a glimpse of their forgotten knowledge by the faint glow of an oil lamp in a small, dusty chamber.

A veiled hat imbued with moonlight.

At night, the interviewee lifts the thin veil to admire the moon shattered in rippling river water.

"It's here, and that's all the perfection I need."

A mithril candelabrum enchanted to filter light and heat to blend with the moonlight, causing its flames to glow a pale, lustrous blue.

"This little flame marks the last line between sanity and madness. As long as the candle keeps burning, one remains connected to the civilized world."

A ley line detector and sampling device made of titanium steel with a pointer containing a ley-energy-sensitive arcane alloy. Once an energy change is detected, it automatically points in its direction and records the ley line pattern on the plate.

Yet to be officially named, this temporary nickname reflects the interviewee's careful attention given to the working habits of a fellow colleague and inspiration. The person it refers to, however, doesn't seem to appreciate the honor.

This is undoubtedly a century of creation.

Countless pioneers plunge headlong into various domains: computer science, emerging industries, Dadaism, and many others. Eager to spread their inspiration far and wide, these innovators paint every corner of the globe with their ideas. Archaeologists are no exception. Watkins, curious about these orderly, indescribable lines, called them "ley lines." Though he had few followers and faced much skepticism, his theory began its journey, albeit a rocky one.

Through "cultural transmission," this fledgling theory was spread around the world. It appeared in the newsletters of exclusive societies, was discussed in archaeological and geographical publications, and eventually found its way into university classrooms, where it was given a more formal title: the study of ley lines.

More and more young scholars, eyeing this promising field, are eager to contribute.

An ambitious girl with silver hair filled out her application form. "Excellent, this is a brand new era, and it is mine."

Tromsø, dubbed the "Paris of the North," thrives on a constant influx of energy and wealth, courtesy of its endless cruisers and passenger ships filled with curious and excited guests. Tour guides and merchants meander through the lively crowds, making sure not to miss an aurora-seeking tourist for fear of losing valuable income—at least according to the silver figure.

In the midst of the crowd, a young visitor is singled out and greeted by a pair of eyes as bright and eager as the aurora.

"Hey, friend, do you really want to be packed like a sardine into a tour bus, only to be dumped on a barren snowy plain to watch the aurora with a bunch of bobbing heads?"

"Uh ... of course!" The answer sounds determined. "I've never seen the aurora before!" He looks back at the advancing crowd, his voice trembling, betraying his nervous excitement.

"Oh, that's even better!" The girl's tone becomes friendlier as she lowers her voice, "I know a place where you can see any kind of aurora you want, in any shape you want!"

"Really ...?" The girl's confidence visibly sways the visitor.

"Don't you want to take full advantage of the breathtaking scenery? No need to huddle with those poor sardines. A moment like this would be all yours and yours alone!" Seeing the visitor's increasingly conflicted expression, the girl adds a persuasive nudge.

"Hurry up, friend, maybe I can introduce you to some more interesting new things, like the study of ley lines. Don't worry, my fees are quite reasonable."

"All right, I guess that wouldn't be a bad idea."

"Deal!" The girl smiles, "Tell me, friend, what else would you like to see?"

As they walk to a corner less frequented by other tourists, colorful lines flow slowly across the unnoticed snowy ground.

Windsong: Ms. Pandora Wilson, I sincerely suggest that you expand the reach of the UTTU to a broader audience.

Windsong: It's a fascinating magazine, and I think more people would benefit from adding it to their annual subscriptions. It could be a great help in spreading the liberal arts and growing your publisher ...

Pandora Wilson: And it would also increase the exposure of the interviewees, I suppose?

Windsong: Ah, that's certainly a ... side benefit.

Pandora Wilson: Unfortunately, UTTU has no plans to expand in that manner. Art, like the science you practice, has its boundaries.

Windsong: Your willingness to classify the study of ley lines as science showcases the boundless nature of art.

Pandora Wilson: Nevertheless, it remains an emerging field, albeit one that is on the verge of fading into obscurity.

Windsong: ... Should I be thanking you for this generous recognition?

Pandora Wilson: If anything, our readers are likely more intrigued by your vulnerability.

Windsong: ...?

Pandora Wilson: Will your study come into conflict with established disciplines? And how will you reconcile these differences?

Windsong: Naturally, I will fight back with the entirety of my wisdom.