After entering the park, Lon found himself in a small square with a fountain at its center. Around it, various pigeons cooed, making their peculiar sounds.
On both sides of the square, benches were scattered, some shaded by trees casting dark silhouettes, while others basked in bright, golden sunlight, giving them an almost sacred aura.
Lon looked up at the blazing sun and raised his right hand to shield half of his face, protecting his eyes from the harsh light.
He immediately understood that today would be a difficult day — with a sun like this, sweating would be inevitable. Especially considering his thick gentleman's attire… he didn't even want to think about it.
«Who would've thought the sun would shine like this? Especially with me wearing such heavy clothing... This is going to be a challenge.» — he thought with a quiet sigh.
Looking around, Lon searched for some kind of landmark to guide him through the park and perhaps awaken a few memories from Renvel's past.
Scanning the square, he noticed a medium-sized signboard to the right — likely with a map of the park.
Smiling, Lon began walking slowly toward the sign, occasionally leaning on his cane — using it for its true purpose, like a proper gentleman.
As he walked, he observed the park's features. The most striking element stood out immediately — pigeons. Everywhere.
In the trees, on the grass, around the fountain — they occupied every imaginable spot in the park. Even though he hadn't seen the entire area yet, it was clear from the entrance alone: pigeons were the heart of this place.
That, in itself, was the park's unique charm — something worth visiting for. Though the natural environment was equally admirable, especially for a place like Seon.
Seon was a land of machinery and steam. Every district felt like part of a giant steam engine, constantly pumping out vapor and polluting the environment. A piece of land like the "White Dove Park," with its well-kept greenery and pure nature, was a rare gem.
Of course, there were other features worth mentioning, but they were secondary — things one might note in passing, but not dwell on.
Reaching the signboard, Lon examined the park map.
It showed various routes in colorful lines, each explained in detail. There were also icons and markers to assist in navigation.
The park turned out to be smaller than Lon had expected — nearly half the size, in fact. But it still offered dozens of walking paths.
Three main attractions were highlighted: the "Pigeon Pool," the "White Dove Meadows," and the "Museum of Dove History."
The "Pigeon Pool" was a lake where pigeons bathed and played — hence the name.
The "White Dove Meadows" was an open area dominated by white doves. Other pigeon breeds were rarely seen there, likely due to a kind of silent exclusion.
Interestingly, the meadows were a popular spot for weddings. On the map, there was even a special icon depicting a bride and groom — a charming touch from the city officials.
The "Museum of Dove History" was a typical museum, mostly sharing the story of the park and its relationship with doves.
After glancing through the rest of the options, Lon decided to first visit the "Pigeon Pool," then take various routes toward the meadows, and finally head down the main road to the museum.
It made sense — the pool was the closest, and Lon didn't feel like wandering off into complicated paths. Simplicity seemed best.
Having made his decision, he took the right-hand path, which was lined with trees casting cool shadows over the road.
He walked along the quiet, peaceful path. Only the rustle of leaves and the cooing of pigeons could be heard. It felt as though he was strolling along a calm, secluded beach — far from the noise of the world.
With closed eyes, Lon walked slowly, listening to the sound of his own footsteps. His fingers felt the breeze gently brushing past. The rest of the world faded into the background, leaving only his thoughts. Whether he was deep in reflection or merely unwinding, his serene expression betrayed nothing.
Then, suddenly, he heard a young woman's voice:
— Mister, why are you walking with your eyes closed...? You might slip and fall…
— Hm? — Lon opened his eyes slightly and turned toward the source of the voice.
It came from a young girl sitting on a bench, holding a book — which she had likely set aside upon noticing him.
Lon could only describe her as beautiful. She had a delicate, youthful face with softly rounded cheeks, giving her a touch of innocence. Her hair was the color of platinum, falling gently to her shoulders. Her eyes shone a bright blue, like gemstones.
She wore a white and yellow dress, tightened at the waist with a corset. On her feet were white boots with black laces.
At first, Lon couldn't take his eyes off her. But then, remembering himself, he smiled and gently shook his head.
— Pardon the disturbance. The atmosphere in this park is so serene, I didn't even notice I was walking with my eyes closed, lost in thought.
The girl's expression shifted slightly with curiosity:
— If you didn't even notice you had your eyes closed, then your thoughts must've been quite serious, right?
— Yes, that's true. Though it wasn't quite serious — more like imagining my future. In this calm and peaceful place. — he answered with a smile.
The girl giggled softly:
— Then your future must be deep indeed, if you got that lost in it. But I agree — this place is so quiet, so full of gentle nature.
Lon stepped a little closer and asked:
— I'm guessing you spend a lot of time here, don't you? The way you speak about it — with such confidence — tells me you know this place well.
The girl nodded.
— Yes, mister…
— Renvel. You can call me Renvel. — Lon quickly interjected.
She nodded again.
— Alright, Mister Renvel. This place is very special… In the Green District, it's rare to find places like this. As you probably felt too — it's so quiet and peaceful here. It helps me focus, away from all the noise… the machines and the steam.
Lon nodded, pretending to understand. He hadn't quite felt the "burden" of steam and machines yet — but he suspected he soon would.
— You're right. Even though I work as an engineer, I still get tired of it all. That's why I came here — for a bit of relief.
Her eyes lit up, and she suddenly leaned forward with excitement:
— You're an engineer? My older brother works at Air Technical Maintenance — Seon. He says it's really hard — so much work, hardly any rest…
Lon raised his brows slightly — surprised to hear his workplace mentioned. But he showed no emotion, only mild curiosity:
— What's his name? I also work at Air Technical Maintenance — Seon. Maybe I know him.
— His name is Pafner. Pafner Edragol.