"Is there a season in Caido for love?" Jigano asked a little ruefully, thinking of how many ballads he knew. "For war? For drinking? At least, many of the songs I know fit into those categories. I've a few songs for winter, for planting, and for harvest, but most..." He gave a little shrug, suspecting Ronin's songs were mostly the same. He hadn't really considered songs as being 'seasonal' before, and most of the songs he'd heard Amalia sing were more to do with the individual gods than seasons, but Sam grew up here and would know the local music better than an Outlander did. Perhaps there were seasons for such things here after all. "But either way, I'd be happy to offer what I have for your project."
He was even more surprised at the sudden shift from Sam's earlier fear and pessimism to the unexpected idealism and certainty that not only were the missing people alive, but that the Fae would be willing to speak to him in the future, in spite of how likely it was that the mysterious people had kidnapped his guildmates without warning or reason. Jigano hesitated only a moment before nodding cautious encouragement, unsure of how to take this abrupt switch in outlook but not wanting to bring back the doom and gloom of before.
He had known something of Sam's past before, from the bits and ends that the bookmaker had shared, the misery when he looked at the painting of his family, his description of their lack of love and understanding. He knew that his friend had been taught the art of bookmaking and inherited his stall from a mentor of some sort, but this was the first time he had heard the man's name or any depth of detail about him. The bard listened curiously, fingers still stroking lightly over Mia's back as he gave his friend the courtesy of his full attention. He glanced away only briefly to give Sam a chance to recollect himself when his voice wavered, but he was proud of his friend when the Ascended man continued resolutely, voice firming with pride in the old man. "I think he would be proud of you," Jigano offered gently. "More and more with every day. Whatever shadow you met in the Spire was likely just that - a memory, nothing more. Though... I never did hear what you endured to reach the top. Would you share that story with me, please?"
He was even more surprised at the sudden shift from Sam's earlier fear and pessimism to the unexpected idealism and certainty that not only were the missing people alive, but that the Fae would be willing to speak to him in the future, in spite of how likely it was that the mysterious people had kidnapped his guildmates without warning or reason. Jigano hesitated only a moment before nodding cautious encouragement, unsure of how to take this abrupt switch in outlook but not wanting to bring back the doom and gloom of before.
He had known something of Sam's past before, from the bits and ends that the bookmaker had shared, the misery when he looked at the painting of his family, his description of their lack of love and understanding. He knew that his friend had been taught the art of bookmaking and inherited his stall from a mentor of some sort, but this was the first time he had heard the man's name or any depth of detail about him. The bard listened curiously, fingers still stroking lightly over Mia's back as he gave his friend the courtesy of his full attention. He glanced away only briefly to give Sam a chance to recollect himself when his voice wavered, but he was proud of his friend when the Ascended man continued resolutely, voice firming with pride in the old man. "I think he would be proud of you," Jigano offered gently. "More and more with every day. Whatever shadow you met in the Spire was likely just that - a memory, nothing more. Though... I never did hear what you endured to reach the top. Would you share that story with me, please?"
