Gravely, the Fool says, "Witnessing yourself made--or remade," and for a moment drops his eyes. "Yes, I understand."
(It is not the same, what Fitz did to him on the Glacier Plains of Aslevjal, and yet--)
"But you mention you have performed a similar duty once. Is that were you learned such meticulous carving?"
It takes him a listless moment to pull his wandering thoughts back to the present, but when his mind makes sense of Rutile's question, he quirks a wry smile. Yes, he decides, this is a topic he much prefers. "Not as such," he replies and turns to rest a hand lightly atop the display case, examining the pieces resting on their bed of blue velvet. He seems to deliberate over something privately for another moment, before he takes a breath and goes on. "I have found woodcarving enjoyable since my childhood, but it was not until a chance brush--" quite literally, "--with another's magic that I became able to create such intricate work."
He lifts his eyes to Rutile again, contemplative. "There are liveships, in my world. Truthfully, they are tragic creations, wrought from the cocoons of serpents before they could develop into dragons. Men used these cocoons to build great ships for sailing, and over time the ships would... quicken. They woke up." As living ghosts, some now believe.
"I came to befriend the liveship Paragon, some years ago. The figurehead--his face--had been badly damaged. He asked me to carve him a new one." There, he spreads his hands gently to either side, his smile rather wistful. "How could I refuse him?"
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(It is not the same, what Fitz did to him on the Glacier Plains of Aslevjal, and yet--)
"But you mention you have performed a similar duty once. Is that were you learned such meticulous carving?"
It takes him a listless moment to pull his wandering thoughts back to the present, but when his mind makes sense of Rutile's question, he quirks a wry smile. Yes, he decides, this is a topic he much prefers. "Not as such," he replies and turns to rest a hand lightly atop the display case, examining the pieces resting on their bed of blue velvet. He seems to deliberate over something privately for another moment, before he takes a breath and goes on. "I have found woodcarving enjoyable since my childhood, but it was not until a chance brush--" quite literally, "--with another's magic that I became able to create such intricate work."
He lifts his eyes to Rutile again, contemplative. "There are liveships, in my world. Truthfully, they are tragic creations, wrought from the cocoons of serpents before they could develop into dragons. Men used these cocoons to build great ships for sailing, and over time the ships would... quicken. They woke up." As living ghosts, some now believe.
"I came to befriend the liveship Paragon, some years ago. The figurehead--his face--had been badly damaged. He asked me to carve him a new one." There, he spreads his hands gently to either side, his smile rather wistful. "How could I refuse him?"