Joris

Perhaps a good excuse as any to get back in touch with Tristepin…

And now the reports of higher-class Shushu wreaking havoc elsewhere… An agitating coincidence, this timing. Just this once, let it be someone else’s problem.

Reincarnation is a regular occurrence here. But if it’s the same for Shushu, that’s unknown. These “evil” spirits are apart from those in the regular cycle, belonging elsewhere.

Excessive condolences aren’t necessary. Though he was in my care, we weren’t close. What I regret is not actually being there when it happened. One evening he was there. Today I returned inside, and he was gone. But such is the way of these things. No, what bothers me is the memory it has brought.

Hm.

This thing Shushu do, departing like regular people do, I don’t understand it much. They are only souls, brought into the material world and put into objects, and so you would not expect them to die again. The last time I saw it happen, it was…not many years ago.

Ah… Cameron is no more. Left behind is only an empty thing. Can’t even take pictures anymore…

I was responsible for him, so I feel a sense of regret. But perhaps it was like adopting an ancient bow-meow, and providing them a comfortable place to expire. I knew him when even I was young.

Repetition is the basis of any good pupil. Atch was the same in his earlier years. I trained with him from time to time too, so I know a thing or two about pacing and what to look for, yes. I’m no expert in spears and lances, but you will be in good hands all the same.

But with each passing year, I find I’ve gotten more sentimental in my great age. Too often the end of the year brings up a lot of those old memories.

Often my kids teased me, saying I embodied the spirit of the holiday too much. Maybe they were jealous, or maybe they were right. Altruism was never my goal. But no good kid should go without that comfort, or live to never experience it at least once.

It’s healing, somewhat, getting to cook for so many again, when I was recently lamenting the opposite.

Next time I will bring chocolates for the pantry in light of these colder months. This tradition I extended to the orphanage too. It may be time I pay them another visit.

The cold season has arrived. I’ve found myself spending most of my free time helping with the community pantry. It brings to mind the days tending to that bunch of at-the-time nameless orphans and the shelter later constructed for them.

Train for now. I will look into introducing you to the appropriate merchants and tutors when the time comes. The means are available. But the process is expensive... You’d be better off finding your ideal weapon before you commit to having one converted.

It’s worth a try once you are more comfortable with a base spear. I will watch your progress, and even offer to spar, if you wish. The practise may be beneficial in its own way. For both of us…

Similar to what I do to add weight to my own strikes and dashes. Perhaps this too will fit your capabilities. If you have the time or interest some day, I will help introduce you.

They can be enchanted to be lightweight only for their wielder, despite their typical size.

But they are known for excellent crowd control and rushes that bash away opponents. A bit of wind or lightning magic can go a long way…

But I can see you are excited about this. Spears as you may know them are a somewhat rare weapon in the World of Twelve, but you may benefit from the teachings of the lancers to the near north too. If you find ranged weapons such as these are your forte, then one of their lances may also suit you.

As I understand it, no limitations, no. The specialists in charge of these enchantments deconstruct the items to their needs, then convert the rest of it into energy. It’s a process I haven’t had the opportunity to study well… It was originally a royal secret. The process is still guarded.

But it will not be a pure summon. Take mine for example. The hammer portion is the summon…the handle remains a physical item always. The conversion happens by will and a small dose of magic—small enough even I could handle it all these years.

Tell me your plotting, then.

Yes. The Sadida king of generations ago was who gave my own weapon the ability. I have no remaining ties to them that enable me to redeem favours, but find any specialist merchant among them and the Cra. These days, they would both have the means to reduce any weapon into a summonable.

The mayor of this town has enlisted my help to cook for a community event of sorts. I can only guess what led to this…

It was such a small thing. Not something I could control, so why bother fighting against it? I had work to do. Always work to do… No time for the weary.

…800 or so years, and only now am I beginning to understand how sleep deprived I may have been for a majority of that long life. But when you live with something for long enough, it becomes your normal condition.

Ah, more food, I imagine? My place is fine, then.

But in the big city, you kept your head down, you interacted with only your own. You pretended not to notice the disconsolate kid wandering the streets, or the burned out husk of a home and the basket of kittens within.

Times are different now. They are gentler, forgiving. Good thing. Good thing…

This town is small, but it’s a welcoming, homely sort. Its community is kind—kind enough he felt confident enough to ask a newer resident like myself—and I know he will be looked after even when I go.

Bonta was never quite this way. Astrub, despite its faults and dark corners, perhaps.

A tiny kid asked for my help today to carry his groceries home. His only parent is at the end of life, too weak to move from bed, and so he was out alone, responsible and determined and much too young to have to be.

In him I saw myself.

I’ve lived with this since my childhood. I’m in no sudden rush to solve it. A few more days or even years won’t kill me.

It’s not something I like talking about… Plenty of reasons for it, though.

So it’s the usual for us. I can deal with that. I am at your disposal, whenever the time comes.

I suppose that explains why I never seem to have any when spending the night near either of you. As much as I might’ve assumed it was only natural.

In any case, I will accept your offer. What would I owe you for one?