LOREN
It had taken a long time for Loren to feel that he could reach out to Remi again, or at least, that’s what it felt like. In reality, it hadn’t been all that long—it was still Leafchange, after all—but given everything the librarian had been through, even in the relatively short time he’d come back, every minute felt like a day, every hour felt like a season, and every day felt like an eternity. He didn’t want to consider how it would feel when the season actually changed, and the snows started falling. He didn't know what was beyond infinity.But the summoner thought he might, just might, have a solution to find the keys and the doors that Zariah had forced the alchemist to make, against his will. Loren still worried about bringing the other man back here, to a site that held such dark memories; with that fear in mind, the librarian had spent far too long, losing sleep even, scouring the manor of all overt signs that Zariah had ever been there. He tore down the crests the family had put up seemingly everywhere, and while he couldn’t do anything about the dark colors, he’d flung open every curtain and polished the stone and the wood until everything gleamed. Something about the effort was incredibly cathartic. And while the manor looked much plainer now, empty as it was of its most ostentatious decorations and ornamentations, something about the blank slate of it appealed to the librarian, soothed one of the many wounds in his soul that he was still discovering and coming to terms with.
After all that, Loren finally felt ready to face Remi again. So the Launceleyn sent a note asking the alchemist to come discuss the doors and passageways that had been stressing the summoner out. The librarian had propped the front door open, ignoring the chill breeze, and taken a seat in an admittedly uncomfortable chair directly in view of the entryway; a pair of spectacles attached to a chain were on his nose, though he didn’t need them to read the book in his hand, Before Long Nyte Falls. Jigano had pointed it out to Loren, and he was devouring it in that voracious way he approached a book, as if the contents might save a life one day. With this volume, that might literally be the case. Another book was on his lap. Strangely enough, it was a book of children’s stories. Loren, for his part, was dressed in a plain brown shirt and pants, and while he still looked gaunt, there was a slightly healthier glow to his skin and his eyes.
A beggar's book
outworths
a noble's blood
