we can't make any promises now

"That is why I said that you are meant to be." The alchemist countered with boyish good humour. Unlike Loren, Remi was perfectly fine relying on certain bits of testimony from others. That the Launceleyn was clever seemed to be a given. Had he heard anecdotes about how the man liked his breakfast or what order he put on his shoes, Remi might not have put much faith in them. But his intellect? It was one of the few things he thought he could know for sure. "I am not pretending Loren." He added. It was one thing for the Launceleyn to brush him off, but another to be brushed. And for all the barbs Loren might throw his way, Remi's skin had grown considerably thicker since they last met. With a snort that served as his acknowledgement, the alchemist could only rub his hand anxiously across the back of his neck. Fickle was an understatement to be sure, but while Remi had little faith in the gods themselves, he did trust in his friends. Amalia, the most pious of them all, had spoken to Vi. And then again the God came to her in a dream. If any were worth relying on, it was she. Whether that would be enough... A halo of blue bled around, the colour strangely contrasting Loren's eyes that were not the soft pebble-blue of the light, but something much darker and complex. The touch against his temples were not warm as he had expected, but buzzed and sent strange honeycombs of light through his body. His eyes though, remained unchanged. Loren was still bathed in unhappy shades of gray save for his eyes, and the world around was a messy smear of haphazard strokes. The more the magician's magic healed the wound in his hand, the harder Remi pressed. As the Launceleyn parted, staggering backwards, Remi instinctively and immediately followed. Loren's predilection for not being touched hadn't been communicated to the alchemist, and despite the history between the two, worry for the man's wellbeing trumped whatever background concerns were buzzing noisily in his mind. Reaching out for Loren's arm, to steady him against the wall or provide some sort of anchor were he to continue to slump down the wall, the alchemist tried to step closer still; as close as they'd previously been standing if not more. "Shhh, you are alright." The alchemist all but sang, his voice gentle and sweet as if speaking to a wounded animal. He knew magical exhaustion better than most, having very recently nearly been killed by Zariah because of precisely that reason. In the hand not holding Loren (not that it likely had been successful in touching him of course), the alchemist created a piece of peppermint bark. "Here, this helps." He added in that same soft tone, holding out the palm-sized piece of bark towards Loren. REMI Loving you was sunshine, but then it poured & I lost so much more than my senses 'Cause loving you had consequences