A letter from the Dreammaster to the siblings under his care, a stack of recollections surging from the Memory Zone.
Reply from the Dreammaster
*A stack of recollections that surged out of the chaos of the Primordial Memory Zone, frozen at that moment when the ink is still wet.*
...
Robin: It's been over a month since your last letter. I'm delighted to hear your melodies from afar once again. We've heard about your recent situation through the Interastral Peace Broadcast. Don't be discouraged by one failure. As long as the giantmoa's feathers still adorn those crowns that gaze down upon the stars, no amount of mediation can dissolve the hatred between Morillons' natives and the poachers. Everything is fine in Penacony. I can sense its breathing remains gentle and peaceful in its sweet slumber, so you needn't worry too much. I hear your next destination is Kasbelina-VIII. I know I shouldn't interfere with your path of spreading harmonious music, and I understand why you refuse the Family's support. However, this time is different. The conflicting parties harbor deep-seated grudges, and surrounding powers are eager to see them fight to the death. If anything unexpected happens, please don't hesitate to seek help from the local Family followers.
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Sunday: Regarding the obstruction of the Charmony Festival proposal at the family heads' meeting, the Alfalfa Family is ultimately just hoping to make a fortune out of this, as you expect from Oti Alfalfa. So long as he doesn't turn the festival into an interstellar trade expo, let him have his way. The Bloodhound Family's complaints about understaffing are merely an excuse to expand their influence. The Nightingale Family's nitpicking about the venue is just their way of coveting the sealed Primordial Memory Zone. You can trade concessions for support, the extent of which is up to your judgment. You are now the head of the Oak Family, and the day will come when you must make your own decisions. I, too, look forward to seeing that day arrive. Therefore, there's no need to seek my opinion on everything. This applies not just to this matter, but to all matters.
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Robin: My dear bird of the Harmony, I've heard news of you and learned of your struggles in spreading the message on Kasbelina-VIII. You told me how you tried to help civilians transport supplies under the guise of performances, only to be stopped at checkpoints time and time again. You spoke of singing to children about worlds beyond the sky in a school that resembled ruins, only to have it razed to the ground by artillery fire days later. You ask me: If the songs of the Harmony praise beauty, happiness, and purity, then how can others hear the suffering and tears of the weak? Child, all I can tell you is this: When all paths on the ground have been exhausted, birds must leave their footprints in the sky.