Dead men walking

It was a good thing that Ronin had told Loren not to say anything, because his mouth was already open. He snapped it shut quickly, not wanting to risk alienating his friend—or, well, whatever the two of them were now—even further. Still, he could only stay silent for so long. As soon as the other man explained what was wrong with him, Loren felt compelled to say something. “Who do I talk to about helping find a cure?” There wasn’t a question in the librarian’s mind that he wouldn’t help. And he certainly wasn’t going to entertain the notion of Ronin succumbing to the blight. Leaning forward, Loren spoke with an intensity that shocked even him. “You are not going to die. I’m a shitty person, and an even worse friend, but I can do that much for you.” After all, if the Launceleyn came back just to immediate lose one of the only friends he’d ever had, it might finally break him. Well, again. He’d already lost too many people he loved. This time, Loren didn’t say anything when Ronin finished going over the events of the last year. He just sat there, in awkward silence, trying to process it all. But it was too much: when he finally managed to find his voice again, he discovered that he once more had nothing to say. “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine...that’s…” It was unbelievable. The sheer volume of information overwhelmed him, and the awkwardness of it all was practically palpable enough to taste. It sounded like a really unbelievable tale spun by an incompetent bard: people exploding, and coming back to life, and being made into stars by divine beings, with monsters and mayhem galore. So Loren started chuckling, completely unable to control himself. It started with a giggle, but soon progressed to full blown hysterical laughter. “I’m sorry,’ he wheezed. “It’s not...it’s not funny, I just...it sounds so...wow.” He was laughing so hard that tears started pouring down his cheeks, although upon reflection he might have also just been crying. Several times, he managed to quiet down, but each time he’d see Ronin’s face, and then Loren lost it again. Eventually he quieted down, and he was immediately appalled. “Oh fuck. I’m sorry. I know I keep saying that, but I really do mean it.” He was babbling now, trying to make up for his behavior, just now, and, well, all of it, everything the librarian had done or failed to do. “I wasn’t laughing at you, promise! Obviously that’s awful, what you’ve been through, and there’s nothing I can do to make it better. And there’s probably nothing you really want to hear from me, after I left you, and everyone else, behind.” He bit his lip and looked away, knowing he’d probably just ruined whatever small chance he might’ve had to reconcile with Ronin. But, in the Launceleyn’s heart, he’d known that it was incredibly unlikely to happen. He was still going to try, though. “But it...it sounds like you could at least use a glass of wine.” This time, there was mostly sadness tinging Loren’s words, but hidden deep within was the barest seed of hope. If he could do that much for Ronin, it would have to be enough. LOREN Not quite an open book