They say blood makes you related but
loyalty makes you family
Loren had heard from multiple people that the Launceleyn Manor had, among other things, a severe image problem. While it was to be expected, given what he’d heard of Zariah’s reign and Edy’s proclivities, it bothered him more than he cared to admit. Or maybe that was because it lined up with his own worries: his family was bad news, always was, and always would be, despite what certain members professed. Besides the metaphorical image problem, it also had a literal image problem. The crests and dark fabrics, while they might have been the traditional Launceleyn colors and heraldry, didn’t match the way Loren felt upon his return. Or maybe they never had matched, and he was just now coming to terms with all the baggage his family had left.
Well, whichever one it was, screw tradition. Loren decided to do something about both issues at the same. He could maybe kill two birds with one stone and take care of both image problems at once. After asking around, he’d found out there was an Artist’s Guild now, which was an exciting albeit unexpected development. Still, it worked out in his favor, so he wasn’t complaining.
After getting directions, the librarian was pleased to note that the Guild wasn’t too far from the manor. So Loren had set off: he made his way through the domiciles until he came to the Guild, which was much smaller than he expected. However, undeterred, he entered, eyes widening as he took in the beautiful projects in various stages of completion. For a moment, he stood there, dumbstruck, heart aching at the vision of so much creation. It stood in stark contrast to the atmosphere of the manor (which practically oozed oppression and destruction) that it was almost like they were in totally lands, and not down the street from one another.
Once he got over his shock, he glanced around, pleased to spot someone. ”Um, excuse me.” His voice came out more tentatively than he’d meant it to, but he’d gotten used to that fact these days. Then his mind caught up to his eyes, and the Launceleyn realized the other man was definitely in the middle of something. Or rather, a lot of somethings. ”Oh. Sorry! I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Loren paused, awkwardly hovering in the doorway. ”I can come back later if now is a bad time.” This was, after all, definitely low on his list of priorities, and it wasn’t like he didn’t have a whole lot to do before Deepfrost.
Still, he’d been hoping that at least this one errand might work out. Again, this whole wanting things was still foreign nature to him: he’d been conditioned to do as he was told and not ask questions, and his time away certainly hadn’t helped to break that habit. New decoration for the manor had seemed like an easy thing, but Loren was learning that nothing would ever be easy in the Hollowed Grounds, at least for him.
Well, whichever one it was, screw tradition. Loren decided to do something about both issues at the same. He could maybe kill two birds with one stone and take care of both image problems at once. After asking around, he’d found out there was an Artist’s Guild now, which was an exciting albeit unexpected development. Still, it worked out in his favor, so he wasn’t complaining.
After getting directions, the librarian was pleased to note that the Guild wasn’t too far from the manor. So Loren had set off: he made his way through the domiciles until he came to the Guild, which was much smaller than he expected. However, undeterred, he entered, eyes widening as he took in the beautiful projects in various stages of completion. For a moment, he stood there, dumbstruck, heart aching at the vision of so much creation. It stood in stark contrast to the atmosphere of the manor (which practically oozed oppression and destruction) that it was almost like they were in totally lands, and not down the street from one another.
Once he got over his shock, he glanced around, pleased to spot someone. ”Um, excuse me.” His voice came out more tentatively than he’d meant it to, but he’d gotten used to that fact these days. Then his mind caught up to his eyes, and the Launceleyn realized the other man was definitely in the middle of something. Or rather, a lot of somethings. ”Oh. Sorry! I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Loren paused, awkwardly hovering in the doorway. ”I can come back later if now is a bad time.” This was, after all, definitely low on his list of priorities, and it wasn’t like he didn’t have a whole lot to do before Deepfrost.
Still, he’d been hoping that at least this one errand might work out. Again, this whole wanting things was still foreign nature to him: he’d been conditioned to do as he was told and not ask questions, and his time away certainly hadn’t helped to break that habit. New decoration for the manor had seemed like an easy thing, but Loren was learning that nothing would ever be easy in the Hollowed Grounds, at least for him.
LOREN
