LOREN
Loren didn’t know what, exactly, caused the other man to step back, because there was so much to choose from. His gaunt appearance; the wild look in his eyes; the note of sadness and anger he carried around in his voice despite his best efforts to keep it devoid of all emotions; or maybe it was just the nine-headed monster next to him, still chomping down happily on gouds. One particularly resilient squash was it past the hydra, and with a jerk of his chin and an effort of will Loren’s telekinesis sent it flying. He probably shouldn’t have wasted magic like that—the drain from the hydra was catching up to him, weak as he was nowadays, and he’d have to dismiss it before too long—but it was good to flex his magical strength like this. After all, he’d had precious few opportunities to do so lately.“That’s what they tell me. It’s in the name. Abandoned. Abandoned by the gods.” He couldn't help the slight bitterness that colored his tone. Although the summoner didn’t know exactly why they were loathed by the divine beings of Caido, he could hazard a few guesses, most of them to do with mortals with the power to challenge the higher beings. Of course, the Abandoned were pitiful compared to the gods (or so the Launceleyn assumed, having never interacted with them before), but he could understand the fear. His family had been all about power.
The other man laughed, and Loren couldn’t help but give him a sympathetic smile. As suspected, the pretty boy wasn’t from around here; he had the misfortune of not only being transported, but also of having the Launceleyn as a guide. “I’m not the best person to introduce you to all this, but I’ll do my best.” He took a deep, steadying breath, trying to order his thoughts. “So the world you’re in is called Caido. I don’t know why or how you were brought here, you’d have to ask someone else about that. But, near as we can tell, there’s no way back.” He explained that last part in as gentle a tone as he could muster: it was probably the hardest back for them all to swallow and accept.
As the flower grew from the other man’s palm, the Launceleyn gave it a curious look. His magic reserves were running low, but he could manage a bit more. Turning his own hand up, a stone version of the same flower appeared. “That, at least I can explain. It’s magic, either earth or creation.” He gave the man a small, but sad smile. “Which means you’re an Abandoned like me.” Given the man’s reaction to Loren’s explanation about the summoner’s own nature, he was a little worried how pretty boy would react.
“Listen, I know this is overwhelming, but I’ll do my best to help you get acclimated.” He held out his hand for the other man to shake. “I’m Loren. Loren Launceleyn.” Then, something pretty boy had said, that had been nagging the Launceleyn, finally pierced through the fog in his mind. “Wait, you said you were ill? What’re your symptoms?" If he hadn’t expended so much magic already, the summoner would have offered to heal pretty boy. As it stood, Loren would probably have to regain some of his energy before he tried any major spells.
A beggar's book
outworths
a noble's blood
