[Jaskier is the same way, in that hearing of another's passions -- at least ones that match Jaskier's own for music -- spring from. Whether Istredd used it as an escape or for something even less, it clearly brings a light to his eyes when he speaks of it. (Though Istredd hardly has issues with light in his eyes, bright as they are.)

Istredd's first observation makes him laugh, something quiet, a chuckle. It's so... mage of him. So similar to many of the way the Summoned view this world, too.]

I know it must be hard for you to imagine, but there are far more normal people like me than there are people like you. With chaos, with power. They live a life just as much as mages, and Witchers, and elves, and the Continent doesn't discriminate.

[Among the monsters, the dragons, the dwarves and the trolls. The plagues, the sicknesses, the -- fucking magic wars. They still survive despite that. Perhaps that was the lesson he was meant to learn about the Conjunction of the Spheres, about humans as a race.

They survived. Thrived. To the detriment of others, even.

Jaskier ducks his head in acknowledgement, a smile curling up coyly.] Viscount de Lettenhove. Anything? You think so? While a life of leisure sounds preferable on the surface, what meaning does it really have? I would have lived and died a rich life and left nothing behind, made no mark upon the world. Changed no lives. It would have been pointless. I much prefer a life in which I change others, even if it is only to bring them a spot of joy at the end of a long day.