there's light at the edge of the darkness
Well, Frey was certainly chatty. Loren hadn’t been expecting that nor did he really know what to do about it. As a strange calm stole over him, he decided not to worry so much, though. If the deity wanted to talk and nothing more, well, that was more than he’d expected and probably more than he deserved. ”I don’t know if she’s my friend. But I will. Thanks.” As the god’s fingers dripped and a lovely smell wafted through the area, the summoner breathed deeply. Literally no one he knew would say something like Frey had just said, but he figured calling out a god would be one of his stupider decisions, which was saying a lot. Instead, he just enjoyed the presence of a being he knew was far above him and yet was somehow willing to deign to talk to him.
However, if the Launceleyn was understanding the god correctly, love wasn’t something he, or anyone could attain. And he knew that was wrong, despite his own ability to love and be loved. Sitll, he wasn't going to argue with Frey. Well. Not much, at least. ”Sometimes the pieces are too small to put back together again. Aren’t they? And does it do them any good, knowing the answer to that question after they’ve moved on?” Loren glanced over at Frey, wishing he had some sense of what the deity wanted from him. Because surely they weren't here for his less than stellar conversational skills and not at all witty banter.
As the god snorted and talked about how whiney mortals were, the Launceleyn couldn’t help the pang of sadness that managed to break through even Frey’s aura. This was a fucking familiar lecture if he’d ever heard it. ”If you’re trying to say that the pain will make me stronger, or make me appreciate what I already have, save it. I heard that one a few too many times growing up.” It hadn’t worked then and it wouldn’t work now. And the summoner could heal broken bones.
There was nothing he could do about the hearts he’d shattered, including his own.
However, if the Launceleyn was understanding the god correctly, love wasn’t something he, or anyone could attain. And he knew that was wrong, despite his own ability to love and be loved. Sitll, he wasn't going to argue with Frey. Well. Not much, at least. ”Sometimes the pieces are too small to put back together again. Aren’t they? And does it do them any good, knowing the answer to that question after they’ve moved on?” Loren glanced over at Frey, wishing he had some sense of what the deity wanted from him. Because surely they weren't here for his less than stellar conversational skills and not at all witty banter.
As the god snorted and talked about how whiney mortals were, the Launceleyn couldn’t help the pang of sadness that managed to break through even Frey’s aura. This was a fucking familiar lecture if he’d ever heard it. ”If you’re trying to say that the pain will make me stronger, or make me appreciate what I already have, save it. I heard that one a few too many times growing up.” It hadn’t worked then and it wouldn’t work now. And the summoner could heal broken bones.
There was nothing he could do about the hearts he’d shattered, including his own.
loren
