LOREN
As Remi listed off quite an impressive list, Loren’s eyes widened. That was far more power than any mage the Launceleyn had ever met, and once upon a time his family had been regarded as the premiere mages of the land (though a few individuals boasted more power than the kin Loren knew well). ”Wow. That’s pretty incredible. Anything else?” Not that there had to be anything else, but the summoner could see how deeply uncomfortable the alchemist was, and it would be just like the other man to downplay his abilities. The librarian, however, was pretty good at annoying people into telling him things.Loren gestured at his prone body, glasses knocked askew from his nose and lying on his chest, book thrown some distance away, and then stuck out his lip in a pout. See, pathetic. ”I thought I only would’ve knocked you unconscious. Can’t even do that much right though, can I?” Seeing as the other man had not acquiesced to Loren’s request not to talk about the almost dying thing—the Launceleyn was getting the impression that Remi’s mind had a bit of a tendency to forget information that the alchemist felt inconvenient—the librarian supposed he’d just have to make the most of it. ”We could sell tickets. ‘Loren’s Magnificent Menagerie! The only real monster is the man.’ Immediately, Loren regretted his choice of words: Remi probably wouldn’t enjoy the self-deprecating humor, and the other man is already looking disturbed at the summoner’s admission that his creatures weren’t really real, just accurate to life. ”I mean, not that I know of. They don’t exist, really, and don’t have any independent thought. They’re more like extensions of my mind than anything else, same as the items that you create.” Of course, the items had a permanence Loren’s summons never could.
Friendship wasn’t a subject the Launceleyn had much experience with, not that Remi remembered that. ”I wouldn’t know, really.” Although he knew the sadness in his voice would probably cause Remi to grow concerned and do something ridiculous, like, actually jump on the summoner as a lion, Loren couldn’t help it. Still, he recovered more quickly this time. ”Well if it’s size that concerns you, I can go way bigger than a lion, or even a manticore.” Indeed, all the way up to a giant, probably. And yes, Loren was fully aware of the innuendo, and trying his best to tease without letting his mind stray where it shouldn’t, which was hard with the alchemist hovering over the prone librarian as the other man was. ”Let’s just assume no catching, okay? If I fall, I’ll get up, and if you fall, you’ll turn into a hawk mid-air and fly off.”
Remi’s words caused Loren to smile for just a brief moment. ”Get us to it. Or don’t, up to you!” While it was true the Launceleyn had asked the other man here, it wasn’t as if the summoner was to blame for their current situation; rather, it had been the alchemist who wanted something more than a business partnership. Maybe even this friendship he’d mentioned earlier. Loren still wasn’t so sure it was a good idea, but Remi was persistent enough that it was easier to wait until the other man came to his senses or the Launceleyn inevitably disappointed again.
As the full meaning of the other man’s words became clear, Loren scooted out from under Remi—via a quite undignified and unattractive movement of his body—and sat up. ”Wait, really?” It came out in a hopeful breath, but Loren knew it couldn’t possibly be that easy. ”What’s the catch? Are there limitations to the amulet? Also, wait, didn’t you say there was a limited number of items you could create?” Wasting a magical item just to spare Loren some discomfort was at the core of who Remi was; Loren felt a pang in his chest, the first in a while. Still, if that was indeed the case, the Launceleyn would obviously refuse. Others needed such gifts far more than he.
A beggar's book
outworths
a noble's blood
