I check the symbols popping up on the ink display as the canoe approaches the shore. At this point the Wavefinder’s patterns read as if they were just another common language. It hums and beeps as if to sing along with the waves rocking us.

I feel the mild sunrays cleaving the temperate air. The valley is still blanketed by wisps of fog and thick dew. Breaths of the treetops rise towards the unstable sky, droplets waiting patiently to reach the thirsty ground.

The Wetland Station rests on a small artificial island. Most constructions would struggle to stay afloat, sinking into the mire-like depths without a trace. It's hard to tell if it's floating with the help of some ancient contraption, or if the architects somehow managed to place it on top of the bedrock far below. Maybe it's some forgotten magic still running its course. A shiver travels down my spine as I imagine my presence breaking  the spell, my steps shifting the ground ever so slightly, letting the concrete behemoth know it's finally time to sink to its resting place, far below the surface.

The antennas crowning the station tower look relatively clean. The gondola dock connected to one side looks less promising. .. Cables connecting to the stations further inland disappear far into the mist rising from the treetops. A closer inspection seems foolish, still feeling a bit groggy from the journey. The peat boulders lining the forest edge are covered with large ferns. Their long tendrils encroach on the already overgrown slab. I pick a handful while waiting for my water to boil.. .

The sun is still high on its sluggish path across the sky. 

**

The Planetarium is only a two day hike up the foothills. Of course there are shortcuts. Most of them are discouraged. Probably for a good reason. Mossy cobble paths lead to more traitorous, more slippery, mossy cobble paths, and so on. I grab my backpack and check the knot tying the canoe to the jetty. It won't be going anywhere even if the skies decide to erupt. The path elegantly dwindles into the lush fern-clad woodland. The Station quickly disappears out of view. Duckboards cover the first stretch, luckily they aren't too dilapidated, a boot in the swampy depths wouldn't be a great start to the hike. With the elevation increasing, the sound of my soles against the murky wood turns into a more varied, more pleasant sound of soles against differently sized rocks covered in varying amounts of moss. Four of the pearls dangling from my wax canister have lit up. Dusk won’t arrive for some time, but it might be a good sign to set up camp.

The ground here is dry enough, flat enough.

Before darkness falls I have time to heat a travel ration and stitch up a few holes in my backpack. I write a bit before the last pearl flutters and goes dark. Is it worth lighting a candle? I've got a good amount of wax with me, but it feels unnecessary to start digging into my reserves already. I check the spare canisters in the outer pocket of my pack. Opening the lid of one fills the air with a deep sweet scent of beeswax, it whispers promises about the depth of dreams to come. With a yawn I lay out my things and pack up my notes. My sleeping bag is too warm. Knowing the weather might switch up, and that the morning will surely bring cool winds from the mountains, it's comforting. Although a little clammy…

**

The dew settles once again, the morning sun scatters the mist. I notice the bottom chamber of the Wavefinder is half open. The capsule looks fine, but the battery needs to be switched out. I only have two extra ones with me. They're easy to come by, and just as easy to forget. The protective cases they're carried in weigh a bit too much for comfort, so the two felt quite generous. Switching it out is quick. The gloves required to protect from the rays are quite cumbersome. I can hear a loud click as the Wavefinder closes back up, and the familiar beeping returns. Same familiar sound.

The large boulders strewn throughout the landscape are fascinating. It feels as if they have been placed with great intent. Trees have taken a liking to the larger ones, lending them a hand in reaching higher. The air is more humid than before, and the temperature is changing just as quick as the elevation. The path is now lined by low junipers and pines covered in beards of lichen. Their crooked branches whisper as curious birds jump in between them and the mossy cushions shielding the ground. I wonder if they've ever heard sounds like the ones emitting From the Wavefinder. They're quick to imitate, close to perfect.

**

Thin veils of snow whirl around the copper pylons lining the last stretch of the path. Slush is forming around their bases as the crystals compete with the rain. Right outside the Planetarium gate a magpie is waiting. Waiting might be an overstatement, it is minding its own business jumping around collecting strands of moss from the cracks between the cobble. It's almost freezing yet the drizzle is picking up. Approaching the pair of gilded glass doors, this entrance leads through a larger greenhouse wing, half buried in the mountainside. The magpie's entourage of smaller white birds don't seem to be helping much with the moss collecting. The sight of the flock, forming, reforming and scattering is quite amusing. Almost in sync the whisps of snow blowing in the wind.

The glass pains are foggy, not from the usual vapour, but a blueish layer of lichen clinging to the inside. It's been cold lately, the greenhouse with its humid air must be the perfect home for the impressive variety of cryptogams present. 

A slumbering shell. 

The rustling sound of the flock reforming, quite close this time, startles me. The magpie seems to have taken interest in my backpack, studying it from a safe distance. Probably the threads stuck in one of the clasps swaying in the cold wind. The flock quickly finds another point of interest and rustles off, making a sound almost like paper blowing off in the wind. Snow passes by with every gust, it doesn't settle. Not yet. I make my way over to the Planetarium entrance just as the rain picks up with a strong gust. The ornate door swings smoothly on its hinges, and lets out a heavy sigh of tepid air from inside the wax foundry.

**

A figure is curled up at the end of the long hallway, no larger than a medium sized sack of beans. A single candle is burning on its head. I can feel the pulse of the flame as it soaks up the wax, whispering, illuminating the walls surrounding it. I take a few more steps and feel a pair of tired eyes peering out toward me under the cords of wax dripping.

Without that familiar voice echoing through the dormant foundry halls I wouldn't have been able to tell Ceryl from the other constructs. I'm surprised by the jolt of energy, as she jumps up from her previously contorted resting position. I've never heard a construct move this quietly before, she's wearing a knit pair of socks to keep the hard sound at bay… It's quite a view seeing Ceryl's figure approaching so quickly, soft footsteps tapping, the occasional sputter of wax beads splashing against the tile floor. She tries to stop a couple of meters from my feet, but slides the last bit and bumps into the front of my right boot. 

“Your socks are slippery” I state the obvious with a bashful grin as I look down at the large eyes staring back up at me.

“Yeah, Garson made them for me” Ceryl mumbles with her usual, tired voice. I can't tell if it's meant as a jab or if she too is just stating the obvious, either way it's probably true. 

“Let’s check if Garson has tea brewing” She says and does a full turn, starting to walk down the hallway with a determined stride. I can hear a sigh echoing down the corridors, as if the first looming moments of consciousness hit after the long rest. I quickly dig up a spare candle from my bag and light it with one of the canister pearls. It only takes a few swift steps to catch up to the wax guardian, my boots being noticeably louder in comparison. ..

I can't help but smile thinking about the large clay husk holding an unproportional kettle. I wonder if I'll be able to catch their normal self as well or if attunement is still underway.. .

A bed roll in the study shouldn't be a problem. Warm and dry.