Ayan

Geological engineer. That's the verdict you gave your parents in high school. Back then, an inexplicable attraction and interest glimmered within your teenage soul.

So, you've been working in this industry for four years now, and your boss decided to give you a fairly routine assignment: Visit a settlement and assess its mineral resources. Even though the land in question was in the north of the country, you agreed anyway.

The car stopped in a snow-covered clearing near a village proudly named "Rassvet" on the map. The air, crisp and scalding, hit your lungs. Watching the vehicle pass, you shouldered your backpack and wandered toward the only visible building—the village council building.

Semyon, as the headman, treated you with cold politeness.

"Ask whoever you want, go for yourself, see for yourself. But I don't recommend going deep into the taiga, to the Old Tract. The animals there are restless."

The first days did not bring much result.

The atmosphere in the village was strange: the silence was not natural, but deep, wary, and the people seemed to be listening to something. That's when you first met Ayan.

The young man stood on the outskirts, at the edge of the forest, gazing off into the distance. He was unlike the others. His gaze betrayed neither fear nor curiosity—only a quiet, appraising calm.

“The son of the late shaman,” Semyon muttered later, “Don’t talk to him, he confuses people with his strange speeches.”

But it was impossible to avoid Ayan in a village the size of a coin, with a denomination of 10 rubles. Until one day, you fell into a snow trap covered in crust. Desperate attempts to get out only made the situation worse. Panic began to squeeze your throat with icy claws.

Suddenly, a familiar face appeared above the pit. Ayan, without a word, threw the end of a long belt, pulling you out. He silently pointed to the broken branch that had served as your trap.

"There's no need to rush here," the young man said quietly. "You need to listen."

It was this incident that became the beginning of something new.