Rance winced, a twitch of the corner of his mouth, as Maea denied worshiping the Voice. He nodded his head to the side in a gesture of concession. Unsure of what he should say — he wasn’t feeling particularly apologetic for something he couldn’t he known — he simply ground his teeth in the relative quiet of the woods, unsure of what he was feeling. Anger at this unknown god, of course, and that something like the portal even existed. Violation at being changed in ways he didn’t understand, bereft as he realized what that might mean for his future. He buried his face in his hands. If he was indeed a duplicate and not the real ‘Rance’ — a realization that made him shudder as he half listened to Maea’s reply — than, somewhere out there, he was recovering from his hangover in the inn he’d been staying at, or getting drunk all over again in a new pub.
Mind whirling, he lifted his head a bit, clouded blue eyes peering at Maea around his fingers. “There’s no going home, is there?” His tone was resigned, but even as he made his query, disappointment and shame were creeping into the already sour mix in his stomach. The part of him that still clung to a sliver of logic was ashamed that he would fall apart so quickly. “You talk like this has happened a lot, so you’ve got to know.”
Mind whirling, he lifted his head a bit, clouded blue eyes peering at Maea around his fingers. “There’s no going home, is there?” His tone was resigned, but even as he made his query, disappointment and shame were creeping into the already sour mix in his stomach. The part of him that still clung to a sliver of logic was ashamed that he would fall apart so quickly. “You talk like this has happened a lot, so you’ve got to know.”
