In this two-part deep dive, Shockwaves hosts Jess and Arthur return to the mud-caked heart of Tuitoma for Chapter 4: Cicatrice. What unfolds isn’t drama in the traditional sense—it’s survival in slow motion. Ser Sarrafin wakes up bruised, works blood into the soil, and dodges both ghosts and gossip. It’s a chapter about pain that doesn’t climax, friendships that don’t console, and dreams barely whispered for fear they’ll break.

Jess challenges Arthur on the brutal rhythms of the story—why the focus on fieldwork, frostbite, and fence posts instead of fantasy spectacle. Arthur counters: Cicatrice isn’t about escaping hard times; it’s about enduring them. From Ser’s bruised eye to his uncle Ward’s bitter wisdom, this chapter captures the cost of simply staying upright when the world offers no softness.

They unpack the power of routine—meals, tools, chores—as a form of quiet defiance, and highlight how friendship, especially with the endlessly inventive Rolen, acts as both relief and reminder of what Ser’s life could be. Listener questions spark discussion on masculinity, trauma, folklore, the role of silence, and whether Ser’s writing is a cry for change or a record of survival.

There’s talk of foxes smarter than townsfolk, bread thrown in festival games, and pipe smoke that lingers like memory. Arthur insists that nothing magical happens here—unless you count a patched roof or a moment of rest—but leaves just enough space for readers to wonder.

By the end, the message is clear: Tuitoma doesn’t promise escape. But it does promise you’ll be seen—mud-streaked, bone-weary, notebook in hand—if you’re willing to write it down.