62nd of Season of Air, 57th year of the 32nd cycle
Newt stopped before a light-brown wooden door. A black tag with white letters hung at eye level, saying, ‘Joyguard’.
Did he change his na after taking up this position, or is it a coincidence?
Popular superstition stated that a na was the on of one’s future. Victor won against Newt’s father; Newt was a new star; Dandelion was a drifter; Dolorna was depressed.
Pointless thoughts, and why did a random desk clerk of all people spring to mind? Newt knocked on the door, refusing to think about old wives’ tales.
“Co in, please.” Newt expected Joyguard to sound significant; maybe a deep, imposing baritone, or perhaps like an enlightened old man’s tone, but the voice that ca from the other side of the door was neutral, average, and absolutely forgettable.
Newt entered the room, imdiately examining the interior and the soother.
The man sat behind a desk. His beard was short, pointy, and black, his eyes sharp, but his features plain and unremarkable. Newt guessed he was around forty years old, the concentration of mana flowing through his body more or less identical to the room’s.
Other than Joyguard, his clean, empty desk, and unusually tall armchair, the room had potted plants, paintings of landscapes, and a large, wave-shaped bed at the center of the room. The air slled of fresh herbs, dominated by the mixed aroma of rosemary and lavender.
“Greetings, Lord Mageknight.” Joyguard rose from his seat and offered a respectful half-bow, which Newt returned.
“Good day.” How do I address him? “Sir Joyguard. I was told you were one of the Explorer’s Gate’s best soothers.”
“Considering we only have five, one might say we are all one of the best or at least amongst the top five.” The man’s smile didn’t falter as he gestured towards the unusual bed. “Please, lie down and tell what’s bothering you.”
Joyguard got up from his seat at the desk, carrying over a charcoal stick and a notebook while Newt made himself comfortable on the bed and found it even cozier than the one in his bedroom. Where do I even begin?
“You seem confused,” the soother said as he sat on a chair beside the bed. “This must be your first ti visiting a soother. You may start at the beginning, whatever that entails for you; your earliest mories, childhood, stepping into adulthood, or when the problem actually manifested itself. I don’t know the answers, and the only thing I can offer is helping you find the truth.”
Newt remained silent. I don’t actually have any heart demons, can I just tell him that?
“I have dealt with my heart demons already, and I’m here to see how I can help my roommates. That said, I would like to learn how soothing works, and I would like to hear more if we have enough ti today.”
Joyguard’s gaze was trained on Newt, revealing no thoughts or emotions as the young man spoke. When Newt stopped, the man nodded sharply.
“Please explain the situation.”
That was when Newt realized he didn’t really know enough about his roommates. He didn’t know what they had been like before the accident. It was possible they were slobs even before the incident, and the state only slightly deteriorated.
Still, he repeated Obsidian’s story the best he could. Then he hesitated, wondering whether he could share about the state of their apartnt, but realized how foolish such hesitation was. Heavens knew how many embarrassing and important things soothers heard over the years. If they couldn’t keep them, their lives would have been forfeited.
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“How can I help them? Get them out of their rooms? Do you have any advice for ?” Newt asked in conclusion of his short telling.
Joyguard looked at the ceiling, tapping on his notebook with the charcoal stick.
“A wise man once said that reasoning with those who have abandoned reason is like administering dicine to the dead. You are a stranger, a new person in your roommates’ lives. Forcing them to leave their sanctuaries or abandon any coping chanisms they are employing will probably have adverse effects. That said, unexpressed emotions will never die. They are buried alive and will co forth later in uglier ways, usually as heart demons.”
The soother paused. “That is assuming they haven’t developed them already.”
Another bout of silence followed, Newt unsure whether there was anything he could say. Fortunately, Joyguard picked up the conversation.
“Your care for others is an admirable quality.” Despite the words of praise, Newt knew they were anything but. Joyguard clearly knew Newt was asking for his own selfish reasons and not because of his altruism. Without his roommates, without a team, he wouldn’t be able to take missions, and he would get demoted, and that would slow his progress.
“Provoking your teammates might help crack their shells.” Joyguard said after another mont of silence, the man using the quiet as much as he did words.
“Provoking them?” Newt gave him a dubious look.
“Provoke them into action. Don’t literally insult them or, worse, hit them. Make them take actions that will break up their daily rut because they must escape it to move on. Sothing needs to change. Anything. And if I were you, I would either make my involvent subtle, or I would make the incident appear beyond my control, but you are naturally free to act as you please. You’re the actor; I’m rely giving advice.”
Newt considered the proposal. Obsidian had almost certainly tried to get his sister out in a variety of ways.
Had he? Newt wondered. If it were him, he would have tried, but that did not an Obsidian thought the sa.
We need to talk soon. The sands of our three moon grace period are already trickling down, and handling matters sooner rather than later seems like the smart way about handling this.
“Thank you, Sir, you have given a lot to think about.” Newt stood up, then decided to ask a tactless question. “How often do students and senior mageknights co to talk with soothers? There should be a lot of people in the order, yet I managed to et you on the sa day I made the request.”
Joyguard held Newt’s gaze, obviously thinking of a diplomatic answer.
“Less often than they should, and those who need to talk to us the most, often don’t co at all.”
Newt looked at the man for one more mont.
Maybe he wasn’t going for a diplomatic answer, but for one free of insults?
“Do you mind if I sit normally at your desk? Lying on the bed while you’re sitting next to feels weird.”
Joyguard obliged without a word and sat staring at Newt. Maybe the bed is the better option if you’re going to look at like that.
“I would like to hear more about your job as a soother and the nature of heart demons, if you don’t mind.”
Joyguard nodded. “Heart demons are a peculiar concept. If a man’s thoughts and worldview can form a taphysical world we call a realm, then it’s logical that all sufficiently strong emotions will impact that construct. It being the representation of beliefs and ideas. Naturally, thoughts or events that impact the mind once lack the depth, if not the power, to leave an imprint…”
The soother kept talking for the better part of an hour, all of it about heart demons and common ideas and theories around them, none about the work of a soother, which Newt found a darn sha. He really wanted to know what kind of insight one needed to better combat heart demons, but Joyguard guarded the secrets of his trade.
Eventually, the session ended, and Newt left the office with several things on his mind. The most important being a question he had never considered - if there are heart demons, personifications of regrets and trauma, why weren’t there any news or reports about their antipodes? Why weren’t there benevolent spirits that resided inside one’s realm?
If fear could be made manifest, why not bravery? If regret over a misdeed could creep into the realm, why couldn’t the pride of having done good?
Joyguard ntioned it only in passing, using it to show how humans dwelt on the negative and failure much more than they contemplated success and the positive outcos of their actions. But Newt wondered. He had an entity inhabiting his realm. An entity that was certainly not a heart demon, an entity which didn’t evolve with Newt’s advancents.
What if Magmin of Newt’s realm wasn’t the real Magmin or even a copy, but a manifestation of Newt’s joy at having beco an awakened? Of surviving his trial and coming out on top against what must have been impossible odds?
The more Newt thought about it, the more logical it seed. Instead of following his original path, Magmin was stealing ideas from Newt’s realm. A proud dragon would never stoop so low.
Walking towards the Chamber of Instruction, Newt felt pretty good about his visit to the soother; it had given him a lot to think about.
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