Entry #1. If you’re lost, find a Guide. They’re always willing to lend a helping hand.
A young Mydlin, cloaked in a light blue robe, approaches A familiar face as guide to lands unknown, an elderly Mydlin lounging in Khashi Kno’s Entertainment Centre.
“This seems a little familiar,” the Guide replies, “I hope my cane is under no threat of being stolen.”
Midsummer laughs, a little embarrassed. “No, no, not today. I’ve got my own.”
There they talk, and Midsummer asks of the knowledge that would have been shared with the Hero. They tell him of the many secrets left in the land, the many people still in need of help.
Entry #4. Feeling weak? Visit Mythhandler II’s Sky Islands School of Lost Finding to practice your fighting!
“In position!” The bass of an elderly Volgecko’s voice booms through the training room. A row of students – of various ages, species, and backgrounds, all unified together with a desire to improve themselves, to become real adventurers – line up in formation.
There, in the middle of this row, is Midsummer, stripped of his blue robe so he can focus on the feel of the sword in his hands.
“And…” Pono begins, testing the class’ patience. Everyone holds their breath. “Slice!”
Midsummer closes their eyes and swings as hard as they can. THWACK. Unfortunately, the sword gets stuck a third of the way through the log; when he attempts to pull the sword out, he stumbles backward.
The students around him are in various degrees of success, but it is clear to Midsummer that they are one of the worst performing students. Failure after failure has began to fatigue him. Oh, how the mighty have fallen.
Pono Malianakin approaches Midsummer’s station. Gruffly, he yanks the sword from the log.
“Keep going, kid,” he says simply, handing them the sword. Midsummer sighs and takes it.
He clambers back to position, frustrated and inelegant. They take a deep breath, and steady themself. In position, Midsummer chants. Gripping the sword more firmly, he stares at the log in front of him and his failed slice. Just as they bring his sword over their head, they spot a poster in the back of the dojo.
‘There is a legend, passed down from generation to generation, its original meaning lost to time: O, Hero, hear our plea: find your power when you hold B.’
Midsummer tries to tap into those strange words – to feel such ancient, Brave power, one that will Beat one’s enemies.
Hi-yah!
The sword slices through cleanly. The two pieces of the log fall onto the floor with a pair of THUDs.
Through the window of the dojo, Midsummer sees the blue sky – so blue up here in the Sky Islands. In the distance, there lies the Hall of Mirrors, his prophesied grave.
The sword rings in his hands. Perhaps there’s hope for this battering ram yet.
Entry #11: When you’re stuck on a puzzle, take a deep breath. Look around. Talk to a friend.
“Where’s the damned L-pipe…” Frustration flits through Midsummer’s voice. “Are we seriously missing a pipe? If we had this last piece we’d have solved this by now!”
A young luminymph rummages through another crate beside Midsummer. No longer is he veiled – instead, his short golden hair is ruffled, messy with sweat from the damp, humid underbelly of the Myddul Castle sewers. “No, there’s nothing here,” Heski replies.
Midsummer takes a breath and closes his eyes. “Stupid old pipes… not even sure why I decided to take up this job.”
“Yeah, I can only hope the pipes in Koralia weren’t any worse,” he says, flinching as if thinking of a bad memory. “We had an influx of T-pipes because I did some of the math wrong… they really shouldn’t have trusted infrastructure planning to a twelve year old, even if I was supposed to be the princess.”
Something clicks in Midsummer’s mind upon the mention of a T-pipe. “Wait, that’s it!” Midsummer announces. “If we can rearrange this section…”
After half an hour of hard work and dirty hands, the rush of water barrels through, and Midsummer and Heski share an exclamation of celebration.
Entry #35: Your home is a resting place. Decorate it and gain buffs for your next adventure.
Midsummer’s summer home slowly transforms into a place to rest and retire in between their adventurous sprints. It is decorated with much memorabilia: there is a leftover gear from the Sky Island, some pipes from Koralia and Myddul Castle framed like art pieces. Potions, paintings, drawings, notes of every kind, of the world and the secrets that he has discovered over the years.
It fills Midsummer with strength.
Hierophantic Mask and Free Wind come to visit sometimes, in the middle of their own adventures. They swap notes, and in the sharing of secrets and knowledge Midsummer is transported back to his time in the Academy. This time, however, they are building something new, something wonderful, instead of slogging through another potions lecture.
Sometimes, Midsummer hosts tea parties. Not as wild as those in their younger years, yet rejuvenating for him and his guests nonetheless.
Entry #72: Talk to old friends. You never know when they’ll bring you something new.
It’s on a trip to Sunshade Desert when it happens. Midsummer is there to visit Hiero and Free Wind, who’ve sent him a letter saying they have exciting news to announce and want to tell him in person.
Midsummer is waiting for the lovebirds in the bowling alley, talking to Funn and Wimzi, like old times. The bowling alley is still on the quieter side for the Entertainment Centre, but they have their loyal customers.
The glass doors open, and in comes in the Guide, now quite an elderly Mydlin. But the cheer in their stance has not diminished at all.
“It’s time to return this to its rightful owner,” says the Guide, a knowing glint in their eyes. Midsummer’s heart swells, a dawning realization of his next role – one he gets to choose this time. “And to pass on the mantle.”
Entry #189: Rest and recover among the places you consider safe. Time heals all wounds.
Jo’s Fish Eatery is still small and windswept, but the food has definitely improved over the decades.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Heski replies, poking his tongue out. “I’ll have you know my shrimp carbonara was amazing.”
Jo chuckles, having set aside her cooking duties for the night to chat with some old friends, sitting as a customer rather than an owner. “It was getting there,” she concedes.
Her hair has begun to grey now, the lines on Jo’s face beginning to form. Heski’s body has built into a leaner frame, his boy-ish face having matured over the years.
Midsummer’s face too has certainly changed too: hair grown out, with a bit of stubble, and a scar under his right ear.
Two sets of footsteps thud against the planks of the diner. The group turns to see Keeper Dan and Nora, new lines on their faces, time and age having treated them well.
The tension that once felt suffocating has finally melted away after almost a decade. They all trade stories: of Nora’s new projects, of Midsummer's new post in the School of Lost Finding, and of Heski’s plan for a grand adventure beyond the Mist.
In the cool evening, with the sun still high in the sky, a sturdy lighthouse stands stoically as the waves crash against the shore – and there is laughter, dancing on the midsummer breeze.
Entry #348: Do not be afraid to write your own story.
Midsummer throws down the deck of cards in his hands, the sudden movement jolting some of their grey hairs away from their pony tail. “You have much to learn, young’in,” he teases to a young shadecrawler with mischievous eyes.
They eye Midsummer’s cane, wondering if the rumors of yore are true…
Midsummer can’t help but feel a sense of déjà vu.