LOREN
Remi arched upwards and gasped out a totally unacceptable answer. After all, Loren was the one fighting, pouring everything he was into this single wild crazy spell. The least the alchemist could do was put a little effort into it. ”Yes. You. Fucking. Can.” The words were almost snarled out and the summoner pressed his hands tighter against the other man’s cheeks.
Then, all of a sudden, the resistance vanished, and the Launceleyn’s magic had nothing left to do but snap back into him in a dizzy and bewildering and potent and overwhelming rush.
The sudden change and release was too much for the summoner who was somehow now supporting the other man’s weight. Unfortunately for them both, he was very weak, both from the effort of healing and in general. So as Remi fell forwards, Loren collapsed bonelessly backward, sprawling on the ground of the back room, which was covered in a chaotic array of items from the alchemist’s spasms. He was momentarily totally spent from the healing magic that had used him as an entirely imperfect conduit.
Everything hurt. Loren’s head, his hands, his right leg where pinpricks indicated that the other man had lost control of his claws. But surprisingly, even though the Launceleyn was panting and sweaty, he wasn’t as drained as he’d expected after casting the most powerful spell he’d even attempted. Indeed, there was still a few dregs of power and strength in him.
Of course that was before the alchemist fell directly on top of the summoner’s prone body and knocked the air from his lungs.
Then, all of a sudden, the resistance vanished, and the Launceleyn’s magic had nothing left to do but snap back into him in a dizzy and bewildering and potent and overwhelming rush.
The sudden change and release was too much for the summoner who was somehow now supporting the other man’s weight. Unfortunately for them both, he was very weak, both from the effort of healing and in general. So as Remi fell forwards, Loren collapsed bonelessly backward, sprawling on the ground of the back room, which was covered in a chaotic array of items from the alchemist’s spasms. He was momentarily totally spent from the healing magic that had used him as an entirely imperfect conduit.
Everything hurt. Loren’s head, his hands, his right leg where pinpricks indicated that the other man had lost control of his claws. But surprisingly, even though the Launceleyn was panting and sweaty, he wasn’t as drained as he’d expected after casting the most powerful spell he’d even attempted. Indeed, there was still a few dregs of power and strength in him.
Of course that was before the alchemist fell directly on top of the summoner’s prone body and knocked the air from his lungs.
But don’t be weary if it’s broken
Families are like that—
they’re split up and always torn.
