we can't make any promises now

At the question about Loren’s personality, he flinched. The truth of the matter was, he’d gone through so many different personas in his life that he didn’t know which one was real and which ones were fake, or put on. But he was afraid that yes, he had always been like this at heart and nothing could change that. It might have been tough to accept but he had to in order to be able to move on with the remnants of his life. Pushing people away to keep them safe was just about the only thing he knew how to do. Since he didn’t have an answer readily available, he just shrugged. Then, because he felt that was a totally inadequate response, he rolled up first one sleeve, and then the other, exposing his forearms up to the elbow, and with them, the old but awful scars that rested on every inch of his pale skin. These weren’t even the worst of them, but they were bad enough. “I don’t know. I don’t really know who I am. All I know is that people close to me hurt me, and then I went and hurt the people close to me in return. That's been the only constant in my life.” He didn’t know why he bothered to say anything, bothered to show anything at all; perhaps he was still hoping, probably in vain, that he could scare Remi off. He stayed silent through the alchemist’s explanation about the doors. It was useful to know, but painful as well, to hear the other man being so open and honest about what sounded like a terrible experience. For starters, Loren would definitely check out the penitentiary (not that he knew where it was, but he’d figure it out), and then if that didn’t turn up a key try to hunt down both the keys and passageways in the manor. “I’ll look into it.” He took a deep breath before fixing Remi with the sternest gaze the Launceleyn dared employ. It hardly sounded like the alchemist had the most pleasant memories of that time. “Alone, though. You already have enough on your plate.” And the last thing Loren wanted to do was add to the other man’s burdens. Besides, just because Loren had stayed this long didn't make this easy on him. Indeed, every moment that passed caused him to sink deeper into his sorry. On the topic of Remi's many burdens, Loren found himself biting his lip. “Your….eyes. I...I could try to heal them? If you want?” Not knowing the cause of the blindness—and knowing his healing wasn’t the strongest—all the summoner could do was offer to try. Others, more skilled and powerful had probably done so already, but the librarian knew he couldn’t walk away from here without at least asking. LOREN Not quite an open book