A disaster! This is a disaster, I tell you!
You call this interior design? No wonder no one hires Siestans for design work. This is a tourist destination, yet it has no architectural style of its own, and you don't even know how to copy someone else's properly!
How could you sully the elegance of Victorian style like this? Look at this table. I said I wanted it to have a marble-like texture. Instead, you went with this cheap, low quality wood!
Perhaps you should look at your budget and again see if you gave me enough for even half a slab of faux marble.
Hah! Alright. Looks like you don't quite understand your place, Miss Ann-Maier.
If it wasn't for me, you'd still be following the Sargonian caravans, fumbling your way around town! There's nothing stopping me from reporting you to the cops as an undocumented immigrant who illegally entered Columbia. Then, you won't see so much as a dime!
If you do that, I'll report you for sheltering and hiring an illegal immigrant! Now pay me!
Why... you!
Hmph, what a foolish Siestan. So crude and disrespectful...
When the city's so stupid as to willingly gave up their obsidian mining industry, their bread and butter, there are bound to be citizens like you with no respect for others!
(Money first... Yell at him only after you get the money...)
Nothing to say? The tragic thing about you is that you haven't even realized Siesta's foolishness, and you're here shouting and accusing me!
(I can't make nothing from this job. I need my traveling money...)
If you people had chosen to join Victoria all those years ago, you would long have become citizens of the empire, indulged in the opulence the empire has to offer, and found your place in the empire's grand history! Instead, you're here, trying to earn a bit of coin to get on your way...
......
Hmph, looks like you're at least savvy enough to understand my point.
Take this. It's your pay. Hmph, count it well. It's in Victorian pounds. You know the denominations, right? Don't you even think I'm trying to shortchange you, lest you make yourself seem ill-mannered.
Mister, you aren't deserving of my manners.
You don't know anything about Siesta's history. You don't even know the first thing about the Victorian architectural history you're so proud of. What's more, Victoria's glory is all thanks to your ancestors' contributions. It hasn't got one bit to do with you.
Why don't you go take a look at the buildings in Victoria and see how Siesta's obsidian has changed your architectural style and become the kind of luxury commodity that you snobs adore so much?
Who's the one with a narrow perspective here?
Why you...!
The Siestans closed off the mines to protect the environment. Everything we do, we do it for the sake of our homeland's future. Not like some stingy man who's just talking about the glorious past over and over to win himself respect.
I'm going back to rebuild my homeland and help breathe new life into it, but what about you? What have you done for Victoria given the shape it's in these days?
Ann-Maier curls her lips a little, and measures the thickness of the stack of bills with her hand.
Even the Columbian demolition crews pay more, oh noble employer.
I only hope your tastes will help you make your comeback.
Now cheerio!
Need to go over anything again? It doesn't hurt to be careful.
Everything of value is still here, and the house is in one piece. That's good enough for me.
I'll send you the reward I promised you. The exhibition-grade obsidian and the certificate will make it to you in probably two months.
The collector's eyes briefly lights up, though his excitement doesn't last particularly long.
Is there some kind of bewitching power to these obsidians that has you enthralled like this?
Are you interested in obsidian yourself? I suppose not... I've learned my lesson. There are very few people out there who truly have an eye for their beauty. Most with have their eyes on obsidians are up to no good!
Never mind. I shan't bother you any longer! Goodbye!
Mr. Pelipper Brown. Are you perhaps related to the bankrupt Siestan tycoon, Beat Brown?
......
Don't even mention that scary old man...
There may not be many who still remember him, but I'm sure he was much more well known back when obsidian was still Siesta's main export.
I spotted this name while I was going over the data. I didn't expect his successor to be running a little hot spring hotel in the area.
The volcano gave Siesta plenty of riches, and the hot springs are no less wonderful than the obsidian.
The old man died a couple years ago. Oripathy.
He never went anywhere close to the mines, but he got infected on his way to Columbia for vacation when the car's Originium engine broke down.
Oh... I'm sorry to hear...
He wasn't really a good man, but his mines did create many jobs. If his protective measures were just a little more comprehensive, perhaps he would've won the gratitude of the miners.
I've heard that when the government announced the ban on obsidian mining, your mines were the first ones to work toward shutting down.
What else was I supposed to do? The only alternative I had was to break the law.
Alright, Mr. Brown. I hope we'll get to work together again in the future. Your hot spring hotel is very spectacular. Would you perhaps be interested in developing it into a hot spring resort?
I'll pass. I'd rather not go through all the ruckus—That is, unless you make me an offer that I truly can't refuse. Say, an even bigger obsidian that's even more pleasing to the eye.
Speaking of which... your obsidian collection here have all been delicately cut and polished. How come there's a geode that hasn't been polished whatsoever?
Oh... Don't you get any funny ideas about it.
That thing's more expensive than all the pieces in the hotel combined.
Adele.
...Adele?
(Is this... Mutti's hand?)
(So warm...)
(Mutti... is stroking my shoulder...)
Wake up, Adele.
Adele, you mustn't sleep here. You'll catch a cold.
(I won't...)
(It's very warm... when you're here by my side.)
Mutti...
Adele?
......
Keller hides the surprised expression on her face and reaches her hand out to gently pat Adele's head.
Are you awake?
Oh... Professor Keller.
Did I just...?
I'm sorry, Professor Keller! I fell asleep...
You seem exhausted.
Did you have a nightmare? Are you feeling unwell?
Or is it your illness...?
I'm okay...
Adele sees that the elder scholar is looking at her with a worried expression. Her eyes are full of concern. During their short time together, she has never seen the stern scholar look so gentle.
Professor Keller... Could you tell me just...?
Just what happened at Wilhelm University all those years ago...?
......
I don't understand, Adele. What are you asking?
No, Adele. We have to go.
Yes. It's time.
Where are you going?
We have to head back up the volcano before it starts to rain.
Rain...
Hm?
Professor Keller... Does the word 'rain' have any other meaning?
......
Silence.
Keller bites her lip, as though there is something that she wants to say, but she nonetheless swallows those words back down.
Adele... When this observation is over, I will tell you everything, alright?
Mr. Dolly, you told me before that every Little Black Sheep is different. They... aren't just your clones, right...?
Are those dreams... really just dreams?
We've found the 'Northern Wind' and the 'Seed.' Will you give me all these answers if we find the 'Fur?'
Why does it seem like... everyone is hiding just about everything from me...?
There is no answer.
And unlike the mischievous kind of silence she got before, Adele can feel that something has truly disappeared from her side.
Adele looks around the empty exhibit hall, and finds the whistling rock specimen that was lost and then recovered a few days ago sitting where it has sat, having not moved an inch.
Mr. Dolly?
Good morning, Siesta. Today is August 21, 1099.
The humidity is 63%, visibility 12km, wind's blowing south-southwest. Estimated three days until volcanic eruption...
The exciting time is almost upon us. How is everyone feeling? Who do you want to share the moment with?
Did any of you forget anything back in Old Siesta? If you did—that's too bad. I mean, what's anyone supposed to do? You only have yourself to blame for being so careless in your move. It's all too late now!
But whatever the case may be, we should try to look at the bright side. It's only by casting away our old burdens that we can better welcome the future.
'You Go Your Way!'
Let's get our day started with this song from the Reef Band.
Watch out, be careful. Hold that sign up. It's a bit heavy, so get a good grip.
It's such an old sign. Since we're tearing things down anyway, can't we cut it up first before we take it down?
Yeah, we may be tearing the place down and moving, but if Old Man Mockingbird were to find out about you cutting his sign down with an axe, he'd climb out of his grave and beat the living hell out of you.
Stop complaining. 3—2—
Mister, are all these instruments here discounted?
Yeah, they're all as cheap as they get.
I couldn't bring myself to, but I figured I wouldn't have a chance to sell them once I move to the city center. Keeping the instruments on gag order? Now that would be a real waste.
How about it? Why don't you pick one? I remember you said you've always wanted your own guitar. I could give you a free textbook on how to play, too.
This discounted guitar... goes for a hundred and fifty certs... Enis says he earns three for every hour he works...
L-Let me think about it...
Not like we can bring it with us. Might as well take it out and let everyone have some fun.
We want to do something special that we can look back on before we all move out of this street.
Like what? Drink? Look at the sea? Set off some fireworks?
We'll invite all the old miners that we used to drink with and the other shopkeepers on the street, have them bring their friends and family—
How about we have a party at the empty plate the night before the eruption? A container party. Sounds cool, doesn't it?
Mr. Costa.
Oh, the punk from White Volcano. What are you doing here? Don't you need to look after the shop?
We're preparing for our move, too.
We don't have a lot of customers these days... If I don't come out to earn some cash, we all might just go hungry.
I'm sorry about Grandpa Mockingbird... May he rest in peace.
He was getting on in years. It was going to happen...
Perhaps he's in some other place, sharing his taste in coffee.
No need to be so polite. Just a couple years ago, you were still a punk who would come out to watch my concerts at night instead of going to bed. Just call me Costa like before.
If I remember correctly, it was the 'Corybantic Costa.'
I'm not so corybantic anymore. My guitar, bass, synth... Sold them all long ago.
Truth be told, I really miss sneaking into the venues with the adults, too. Those were the good times.
You'll get it once you get a little older. There are no such things as good times.
All times are a waste of time. It's only after we waste our time away that we can bring our memories back out, dust them off, and think back on how great those times were.
Thinking back... I must've pissed Grandpa off so much back then.
The city hall staffer squints at the cars on the street. The cars zoom past them, leaving behind a few streaks of silhouette in his vision.
So, Enis, if there's anything you want to do, do it now. Don't wait till everything you knew no longer resembled what they once were. By then, it's all too late.
Yeah... I will.
Costa taps Enis's shoulder and sighs.
The residents of the shopping district have, for the most part, agreed to the rebuilding proposal, and my work has come to an end, for the time being. With the way things are, this isn't so bad.
Life must go on.
Strange...
I haven't seen a single sheep on my way here...
We have to go now.
Yes. It's time.
The streets today seem awfully quiet.
Was it all... just a dream?
No... That letter... the rock, and the surfboard that flew right into the sky... They were all real...
Adele tries her hardest to think back on what proof she had that all the adventures she had the past few days were real, but the harder she digs into her memories, the less believable her memories become.
Mr. Dolly—
Are you there?
Mr. Dolly?
Mr. Dolly—
Are you still there—
The girl's voice is carried away by the wind.
Your blood originium-crystal density is fluctuating a little, but for the most part, it's still within the normal range...
You said you pass out suddenly. What do you mean by that, more specifically?
Dr. Ceylon, can Oripathy... cause hallucinations?
Theoretically, it's possible... What did you see?
Lots of Little Black Sheep, and they all talk to me...
And... I don't know why, but it feels just like I've seen them before...
Well... That sounds like it could've been caused by stress.
But it's weird... Some old miners have told me about similar hallucinations when they came in for consultations...
Let's keep an eye out for a few more days. During that time, make sure you take your medicine on time and get as much rest as you can. If you get any hallucinations again or feel unwell, come to me immediately.
Okay...
*sigh*... If only all my patients would be as cooperative as Eyjafjalla, things would be so much easier for me as a doctor. Not like a certain someone here who's always giving me a headache.
Stop chewing me out. I'm here for my follow-up and my medicine, am I not?
Alright, this counts as an improvement. As a way to encourage you, I won't charge you for this consultation.
Really?!
But I have something I want to ask you.
A few days ago, I found this basket of obsidian on the shopping district. None of the shops nearby admitted that it was theirs. Do you have any clues about its origins?
Well...
Judging from their color, these obsidians are very similar to the one you gave me before... It could very well have been mined around the same time from the volcano.
It wasn't me! I promise! I haven't been near the volcano since I got infected!
So you mean there are still people mining obsidian illegally.
Enis, what else do you know?
Well... I guess I'd be lying if I said I didn't know anything about it...
Don't try to fudge your way out of this. Out with it!
Dr. Ceylon, some of the workers here know you're the mayor's daughter. It was hard enough to get them to come to you for consultations. If you dig into who's mining obsidian...
True, what they're doing's not right, but this might just be... a conflict of interest...?
I'm me, and the mayor's the mayor. Why must I be grouped together with him?
I came back here this time because I wanted to do something for Siesta with my knowledge. The Rhodes Island office is my blood, sweat, and tears. He's got nothing to do with it!
(It seems like Dr. Ceylon really doesn't like Mayor Herman...)
(Maybe Ceylon isn't on very good terms with her father?)
Phew...
Anyway, Enis, you know who the obsidian belongs to, right? Take me to them.
It makes me feel kind of like I'm selling them out, but if it's for the greater good...
A-Alright...
Take me with you. I can help identify obsidian!
No can do. Last time, you almost sneaked away. You aren't leaving here until you get enough rest.
Huh? What about me...?
I'll take you out to eat!
After the night has shrouded the street, Adele steps outside the office.
A lone Little Black Sheep stands outside, staring blankly at the closed door.
Huh? Another hallucination?
What's going on? Didn't I just get some rest...?
*sigh*...
Adele goes around the Little Black Sheep and prepares to go back home.
The Little Black Sheep staggers a little and turns around from the office's door. It sways its head and turns on the miner's lamp on its back. The lamp shines and illuminates the path before Adele.
......?
Adele takes a step forward, and steps onto the shadow cast by the lamp on the Sheep's back.
There's really a light...?
She turns around and hesitantly reaches her hand out and probes. Then, she feels some warm, fluffy wool.
Not a hallucination?
No, I've seen you before. You're the sheep who ate the address off the letter. What's that you're carrying on your back... A miner's lamp?
......