When Dawn Dies Down

1960, Town of Ranhbniz

South of the river there stood still the tranquil town of Ranhbniz. The wind gently ran through the golden glimmering rye fields east of the town, sparking tiny fragrant pieces all over the ground. The birds were startled, rising from the evergreen trees. The aquamarine stream in the woods nearby danced unruffled over the stones, its sounds of brushing echoing through the forest. The hares dipped their heads down in the clear glass-like water, gulping the elixir.
South of Ranhbniz was a thriving farm, the warehouse stuffed with a plethora of crops, which filled the stomachs of all of the town. In the barns, cattle and poultry populations were higher than ever. The wheat wiggled in the cool breeze of fall, waiting to be harvested.
The view of the west from Ranhbniz was blocked by gigantic, howling peaks, rocky and barren, their zeniths blanketed by pure white snow. They said the mountains are the only entrance to this quiet, hidden utopia.
What was most noticeable about the scenery, though, was the strange car by the Watsons' house.

***

The car was one of a kind, silver and shining, small and dexterous, like nothing the residents of Ranhbniz had seen before. It was out of place, out of its time.
The man that drove it here, however, was more of an attention catcher. Nobody knew his name, nobody knew where he was from and nobody knew why he came here. According to those who had seen him, he had black hair, pale white skin, and was so thin that one can see his bones. He seemed to be intentionally avoiding everyone, for some reason. They called him Nameless.
It was the Watsons who had first seen him, naturally. Old Mr. Derrick Watson was awakened from his dreams by the sound of engines. He sat up and looked out of the window to see a skinny man exiting a futuristic car, just beside his plot of land. He glanced away and back and again, but the man was nowhere to be seen.
The Watsons were a poor yet prestigious family, who had been guarding the outskirts of the town for decades. They lived off a piece of fertile land, on which they planted carrots. Once every few months they'd go to the county way across those mountains and claim some subsidy (and sell their carrots). Despite living on the margins, they were never forgotten.