The description Jigano provided was unfortunately insufficient for Loren’s needs: without a clearer picture of the dogs and their abilities, he wouldn’t be able to summon them. Still, he tucked away the reference for later. There was something about it that he could feel niggling at a memory tucked in the recesses of his mind. ”That’s alright. It was a long shot, anyway.” At the other man’s sigh, the Launceleyn gave the white-haired man a curious look. ”It is alright, right?” As the summoner had been in the throes of sorrow himself (and still mostly was) he recognized the signs in others.
That was too bad about the Fae: the lack of knowledge in the Atheneum made sense, given the barrier, but was frustrating to someone on a quest for a specific piece of information. ”That’s unfortunate. If you wouldn’t mind asking them, I’d greatly appreciate it. I haven’t met any of them yet.” He’d barely reintroduced himself to the people he used to know, let alone met a whole new race. Hopefully there’d be time for that after blights and monsters.
He hadn’t known the little detail about Edy being eaten, and he winced at the mention. ”O-oh. I...see.” It took him a few moments to banish the horrifying images that conjured in his mind; it was all too easy to picture, given the illusions his family used to torture his mind even as they hurt his body. At the show of anger from the other man at the mention of Zariah, Loren tensed. Seemed Jigano might have been another of the woman’s victims. ”Monster? Cruel mistress? Merciless queen?” She’d taken that epithet, and the summoner still couldn’t get over how she probably saw it as a virtue. Still, perhaps here was a chance to make an ally, find a kindred soul, and make up a little for Loren’s actions in the woods all at the same time. ”You don’t have to tell me about what my family can do.” With that, Loren rolled up his left sleeve, exposing the scars that dotted most of his skin. ”They gave me these, and more.”
The conversation turned to LongNight, and the Launceleyn nodded. ”Thank you,” His voice carried genuine gratitude as he accepted the book. Loren honestly didn’t know how he’d survived Deepfrost last year, and he wouldn’t rely on dumb luck to do so again. At the very least, familiarizing himself with the text would help him keep those who came to the manor (if anyone took him up on the offer, which he was starting to doubt) safe. He made a mental note to make sure all the windows were locked and latched from both inside and out, if he could.
It was an idea, taking out the walls, but the summoner would rather not attempt it unless he absolutely had to. Besides, it was something he could try on his own. ”I’d rather not knock down the whole manor, especially if people will be staying there soon. And I definitely don’t want to involve Remi, given all the burdens he's already carrying. I know, Rexanna, but you’re right, she should focus on her wedding.” His voice came out distracted, as there was another problem that Loren realized he should have disclosed—and should’ve obviously considered—before he’d brought it up to the bard to begin with. ”Honestly, I don’t even know if I found the right doors, because Remi said they weren’t just sealed with magic, they were also hidden with magic, and he seemed pretty sure I’d never be able to find them without his help. My inability to knock down those other locked doors might’ve had more to do with me being weak than with their toughness.” Indeed, he was dangerously thin, not having gained back the weight he’d lost in his year scavenging what he could. He hadn’t tried with magic, again worried about the property damage.
Then a thought struck him. The mention of the Fae and the description of the hounds had triggered something in the back of the Launceleyn’s mind, some half remembered snippet of a story or a song. He frowned as he tried to fan the spark into full knowledge, but it remained elusive. ”Hang on a second,” he requested of the bard, already turning back to the pile of books Loren had assembled. He flipped through them until a title caught his eye: Cautionary Tales for Children. It was an oddly formal name for a book of children’s stories.He flipped through it until the word ‘hunt’ caught his eye. Turning to the beginning of that story, he skimmed it, a fierce sense of satisfaction growing in him as he read.
This might just be it; he flipped it around and triumphantly pointed at the sentence he’d found and grinned so Jigano could see for himself. It read as follows: ‘And Talia heard the baying of the hounds fade and she grew scared, for she knew the hunters were near. Running was useless, as was hiding, for the hounds and hunters both were tireless. None escaped the Wyld Hunt. If only she’d listened to her mother and stayed indoors on that stormy night…’ He wanted to give Jigano time to read, but Loren was so excited by his find that he couldn’t contain himself for long. ”I’d been focused on the hunters, because they’re the main party of the tale, but there’s no reason I shouldn’t be able to call one of their dogs out.” Indeed, there was a horrifying description of one further along in the story. They always found their prey, and while that was usually a person, Loren was willing to see if it would work for doors too.
That was too bad about the Fae: the lack of knowledge in the Atheneum made sense, given the barrier, but was frustrating to someone on a quest for a specific piece of information. ”That’s unfortunate. If you wouldn’t mind asking them, I’d greatly appreciate it. I haven’t met any of them yet.” He’d barely reintroduced himself to the people he used to know, let alone met a whole new race. Hopefully there’d be time for that after blights and monsters.
He hadn’t known the little detail about Edy being eaten, and he winced at the mention. ”O-oh. I...see.” It took him a few moments to banish the horrifying images that conjured in his mind; it was all too easy to picture, given the illusions his family used to torture his mind even as they hurt his body. At the show of anger from the other man at the mention of Zariah, Loren tensed. Seemed Jigano might have been another of the woman’s victims. ”Monster? Cruel mistress? Merciless queen?” She’d taken that epithet, and the summoner still couldn’t get over how she probably saw it as a virtue. Still, perhaps here was a chance to make an ally, find a kindred soul, and make up a little for Loren’s actions in the woods all at the same time. ”You don’t have to tell me about what my family can do.” With that, Loren rolled up his left sleeve, exposing the scars that dotted most of his skin. ”They gave me these, and more.”
The conversation turned to LongNight, and the Launceleyn nodded. ”Thank you,” His voice carried genuine gratitude as he accepted the book. Loren honestly didn’t know how he’d survived Deepfrost last year, and he wouldn’t rely on dumb luck to do so again. At the very least, familiarizing himself with the text would help him keep those who came to the manor (if anyone took him up on the offer, which he was starting to doubt) safe. He made a mental note to make sure all the windows were locked and latched from both inside and out, if he could.
It was an idea, taking out the walls, but the summoner would rather not attempt it unless he absolutely had to. Besides, it was something he could try on his own. ”I’d rather not knock down the whole manor, especially if people will be staying there soon. And I definitely don’t want to involve Remi, given all the burdens he's already carrying. I know, Rexanna, but you’re right, she should focus on her wedding.” His voice came out distracted, as there was another problem that Loren realized he should have disclosed—and should’ve obviously considered—before he’d brought it up to the bard to begin with. ”Honestly, I don’t even know if I found the right doors, because Remi said they weren’t just sealed with magic, they were also hidden with magic, and he seemed pretty sure I’d never be able to find them without his help. My inability to knock down those other locked doors might’ve had more to do with me being weak than with their toughness.” Indeed, he was dangerously thin, not having gained back the weight he’d lost in his year scavenging what he could. He hadn’t tried with magic, again worried about the property damage.
Then a thought struck him. The mention of the Fae and the description of the hounds had triggered something in the back of the Launceleyn’s mind, some half remembered snippet of a story or a song. He frowned as he tried to fan the spark into full knowledge, but it remained elusive. ”Hang on a second,” he requested of the bard, already turning back to the pile of books Loren had assembled. He flipped through them until a title caught his eye: Cautionary Tales for Children. It was an oddly formal name for a book of children’s stories.He flipped through it until the word ‘hunt’ caught his eye. Turning to the beginning of that story, he skimmed it, a fierce sense of satisfaction growing in him as he read.
This might just be it; he flipped it around and triumphantly pointed at the sentence he’d found and grinned so Jigano could see for himself. It read as follows: ‘And Talia heard the baying of the hounds fade and she grew scared, for she knew the hunters were near. Running was useless, as was hiding, for the hounds and hunters both were tireless. None escaped the Wyld Hunt. If only she’d listened to her mother and stayed indoors on that stormy night…’ He wanted to give Jigano time to read, but Loren was so excited by his find that he couldn’t contain himself for long. ”I’d been focused on the hunters, because they’re the main party of the tale, but there’s no reason I shouldn’t be able to call one of their dogs out.” Indeed, there was a horrifying description of one further along in the story. They always found their prey, and while that was usually a person, Loren was willing to see if it would work for doors too.
