Dead men walking

Ronin was tired, and Loren didn’t think the Launcleyn’s presence was helping with that. It pained the librarian to see his friend’s hands tremble. But it didn’t hurt nearly as much as that empty tone in the king’s voice. When the other man asked why Loren had brought up the tree curse, he struggled to put it into words. “I don’t know…I guess I just wanted to remind you that I...we...you have some experience beating plagues and curses.” Even if Ronin didn’t accept Loren back—which the librarian realized had never been on the table—the king still should know that the Launceleyn was a resource and an ally. Although, perhaps it wasn’t good to bring it up after all, given what it had cost them. But there were no doubt many willing to pay that price, the summoner among them. And then the conversation swung back to Loren, and why he’d come back at all, after so long away. That was more than fair: after forcing Ronin to talk about an uncomfortable topic, the Launceleyn should have to do the same. Besides, Loren was the one who’d come here, hat in hand, expecting...forgiveness? Understanding? Whatever it was, it didn’t matter. He had no hope of getting his old friend back, that much was clear. “Because…” Trailing off, the librarian struggled to articulate, well, anything. Loren closed his eyes and breathed out a deep sigh. “Because the leaves started changing again. That told me exactly how much time had passed. And...I don’t know what I thought to accomplish, by running away from my problems. But, whatever it was, I failed.” His hands clenched into fists and he could feel a desperate tone rising in his voice. “I spent a whole year in a daze, trying to, to, find myself or something ridiculous like that. To get away from my past. To prove to myself, at least, that I didn't have to be, the, the, the weapon my family tried to forge me into.” It sounded worse and worse the more he said. “And I have nothing to show for it, besides hurting the people I cared about.” That had always been his worst nightmare, and this time it had been entirely his fault. Finally, he opened his eyes. Taking up the glass of wine, he downed it in one gulp, then poured himself more. Probably too much. But after everything he’d done, getting drunk in Ronin’s presence seemed like the least of the problems Loren had caused. Plus, he needed something to take the edge off the raw grief and anger he felt coursing through him. LOREN Not quite an open book