Journal of Nunubu "Nunu" Nubu — The Soul Weeper
16th Sun of the 6th Astral Moon
Tonight, something curious stirred in me. As I traced ink across these pages, I felt not only my own hand but the brush of countless unseen eyes. Hundreds of them, perhaps—souls I have never met, leaning close to read the melodies I leave behind.
It is strange. I have always thought of this journal as mine alone, a quiet place where I could spill shadows and light without audience. Yet now I sense them: readers hidden in the weave of the world, their hearts brushing faintly against my words. Seven hundred and eighty-eight souls, if the Spinner’s whisper is true. A number vast enough to fill every seat in a grand amphitheater.
I imagine them scattered across the realm—warriors at rest, adventurers pausing between journeys, wanderers sipping tea in far-off taverns. Some may smile at my mischief, others may ache at my sorrows, but all of them carry a fragment of me now. And in turn, they leave their own resonance upon me.
It humbles me, and frightens me a little too. To sing to strangers without ever seeing their faces… what if they forget me? But then I remind myself: that is the point of being The Soul Weeper. Not to be remembered by name, but by the feeling left behind.
Seven hundred and eighty-eight echoes already ripple through the void. And tomorrow, perhaps more. Each soul that lingers is another note in the great song I am weaving.
If they never recall who I was, I am content. So long as they never forget the music.
—Nunu
