Citizen 318 Jespism

Artist: Beegleray

“Ya know something, miss? I’ve seen you here every time you come into Atlas, but you only come to buy these loukoumades! Do you think I could interest you in buying some of my other goods as well?” The baker gestured towards the other baked goods lining the shelves of the bakery. Patrons meandered through the shop in search of their newest purchase. Jespism stood at the counter, wide eyeing the bowl of sweet treats before her.

“Oh, I’m sorry sir! I’ll purchase more the next time I visit; I have to leave room in my basket for other purchases. Plus, these bring back wonderful memories of when I used to live in Boura. Thank you though.”

“Ah, I’m sorry to hear that miss,” The baker’s voice became hushed as he lowered his head towards Jespism. “I haven’t been out that way in quite some time. How has the village been since the earthquake?” The baker gave Jespism a look of endearment, almost as though he felt he had overstepped by asking such a question.  Jespism handed the baker a small pile of dracm, a solemn looking coating her face.

“Well, it has been rough not being able to go back since I started working here in the city. That is why I always come in and buy these,” Jespism nods her head towards the bowl of sweets. “ They remind me of the fall festival back in Boura actually. They are practically an annual delicacy there since the ingredients are so hard to come by.”

“I hear you on that one,” The baker placed the coins into his coin satchel hanging from his apron, “I have to practically pay my weight in coins for the cinnamon every time the merchant from Medbe comes into Atlas. She’s been really quiet about what’s happening on the surface, so I don’t dare ask her why her prices keep going up. But I’m happy that you are able to enjoy these loukoumades!” The baker smiled as he nudged the bowl of sweets towards Jespism.

“I appreciate your continued efforts for making these! I really can’t thank you enough.” Jespism perked up as she picked up her basket and the bowl of loukoumades.

“I’ll look forward to the day you buy more than just sweets.” The baker let out a heartful chuckle, wiping his paws on his apron. Navigating through the sea of patrons and making her way out into the courtyard, Jespism scurried over to an open table. The wooden seat creaked as she sat upon it, placing her basket by her tail and the bowl in front of her.

“Thank you” Jespism whispered to the air as she clasped her paws together, a sense of nostalgia enveloping her. It had been quite some time since she could enjoy sweets with her mother at the fall festival. She had enjoyed growing up in Boura, where everyone had a form of connectedness and caring nature. The sweets in front of Jespism were the last part of the world she had been raised in. She remembered the time when her mother approached her with a special request for the fall festival and how she ended up falling in love with these loukoumades.

"Jespism, my dear, I need your help," Jespism could hear her mother’s voice faintly coming from the kitchen. Jespism placed the book she was reading down on her desk and made her way out to hear her mother clearly. "The fall festival is coming up at the temple, and they need fresh ingredients from the market. Would you be willing to go to the market for them?"

Jespism's eyes gleamed with delight. It was always an adventure for her to go into the city. She loved to explore and meet new rexals. "Of course, Mother! Do you have a list of everything they need? I can head over there right now."

Her mother handed her a basket and a list of ingredients needed for the festival. Filled with excitement, Jespism set off towards the bustling Atlas market. The air was alive with the scent of spices, the chatter of vendors, and the vibrant colors of fruits and vegetables. It was a place of wonder and possibility.

Jespism wandered through the market, her eyes dancing from stall to stall. She came across a jovial fruit merchant with a wide array of colorful fruits. Jespism carefully selected the freshest and most succulent fruits. The seller shared tales of how the fruits were grown and how they had been passed down through generations. Jespism bid the fruit merchant a wonderful day as she had to continue gathering the ingredients.

As Jespism meandered through the market, she encountered various vendors, each with their own unique stories and goods. There was a cheerful baker whose pastries melted in her mouth, a skilled potter showcasing beautifully crafted pottery, and a weaver with a dazzling collection of textiles. Immersed in the vibrant atmosphere, Jespism lost track of time. However, a sense of duty tugged at her heart, reminding her of the task at hand. She gathered the remaining ingredients on her list, skillfully negotiating prices and sharing laughter with the vendors along the way.

She approached the last vendor, an elderly woman with a kind smile, who offered an assortment of fragrant herbs and spices. Jespism selected the necessary spices from the list and engaged the vendor in conversation, learning about the different uses of each spice and the stories behind them.

“You do realize that these spices come from above the surface, right dearie?” The elderly vendor rasped as she wrapped the spices in cloth to preserve their dryness.

“Yes, ma’am.” Jespism reached across the table of goods to grab her newest purchase.

“This particular one is rather hard to come by.” The merchant gestured towards the small pile of cinnamon. “I have stories of fellow merchants who have procured these spices from the Medbe region. Would you like to hear a story?” She pulled out a chair from under her table and patted it gingerly, gesturing for Jespism to join her behind the table.

“I believe I have a few moments to spare.” Jespism placed her basket on the floor and sat down on the chair. The elder rex began telling her stories from above the surface, tales that included deserts as vast as the sea and the scoundrels who inhabited Medbe.  The merchant even mentioned that she had only joined a caravan to Medbe once, and she was more than content with leaving the work to other merchants. Every time they had to travel to the surface, they would often face pirate ships, heavy sea storms, or exhaustion from the inexperienced swimmers.

Jespism was infatuated by the idea of exploring the world above the surface. She wanted to discover the world out there, but being so young, it seemed like a far-off dream. Jespism thanked the elder rex for the stories, and with her basket now brimming with all the necessary ingredients, Jespism bid farewell to the elderly merchant.

Jespism made her way back to the temple. The temple grounds were abuzz with anticipation, as volunteers and villagers prepared for the summer festival. The temple staff welcomed her back with open arms, grateful for her successful procurement of the festival's ingredients. Jespism joined the temple staff, her heart brimming with a deep sense of fulfillment. Together, they adorned the temple with vibrant flowers, hung colorful lanterns, and created an ambiance that would enrapture all who attended.

“Excuse me, young one!” One of the elders beckoned over to Jespism, “ Would you mind helping us prepare the loukoumades?” Before the elder was the pile of spices that Jespism had gathered from the old storyteller. She grabbed an apron off the wall and took a place next to the elder.

Jespism and the elder began preparing the loukoumades, treating each batch with respect and care. Jespism reflected on the stories of the spice merchant as she prepared the sweet treat. The sweet scent of the loukoumades blended with the other festival delicacies, promising a feast that would tantalize the senses and nourish the souls of those who gathered. Once the sweets were prepared, Jespism carried them out to place them on the banquet table amongst all the other delectable dishes.

As the sun started to set, the festival began. Villagers enjoyed the feast, dancing, and even games in the courtyard of the temple. Throughout the festival, Jespism observed the villagers' delight as they enjoyed the tantalizing aroma of spices, the refreshing taste of fruits, and the vibrant ambiance created by the dedicated efforts of the community. Jespism’s mother found her, and they were able to share a loukoumade while watching the dancing. The whispers of appreciation and the shared enjoyment of the desserts were a testament to Jespism's commitment to ensuring a truly memorable temple festival.

Jespism could still hear the faint sounds of the festival as tears started flowing down her cheeks as she took the last bite of the loukoumades. Just as she had reached the end of another day’s sweets, the yearning to return to her home village grew. She knew that she had moved to the city to continue her studies, but she truly wished she could go back to when the world was smaller and simpler. Just like how the loukoumades were made.

Beegleray