LOREN
Although all Loren wanted was curl up into a ball until the baker left him, he forced himself to listen to her words. He owed her that much, at least, after everything he’d put her through. After the damage, and the further hurt he’d caused with healing, of all things. Somehow he’d managed to turn the lightest of magics into a weapon.
Well, if anyone was capable of it, it was him.
However, even as he rested his forehead on his knees to hide the tears that finally fell, he couldn’t help but hear the echoes of a conversation he’d had not so long ago. It had taken place in the deep hole the Fae called a jail, but some pits and prisons were metaphorical, he knew that better than most. And this was a dark place if ever he’d stumbled upon one. Only it wasn’t him hurting, but someone he’d hurt. And he couldn’t make anyone else suffer. Not again. Not anymore.
So he’d see if the words that had failed to reach him could somehow reach Amalia. He'd probably fail in this too, but that had never stopped him from trying. ”I-I didn’t…” His voice came out softly, so softly he wasn’t even sure if it was audible. ”I didn’t take away your m-memory of that night. You still, still remember...everything. You still remember everything. I didn’t take that away.” He hadn’t. He wouldn’t, even if he could. That was a cruelty beyond even his ability or capacity to inflict. If he could, even he wouldn't stoop that low.
But he’d been thoughtless and cruel nonetheless. Somehow, he managed to shrink even further in on himself, though it might’ve just been a minuscule shift away from Amalia. ”But...I’m sorry. S-sorry for taking away the reminder.” He’d offer to make her a new one, somehow, but he figured he’d done more than enough to her already.
Gods he just wanted it all to stop. But they never seemed to answer his prayers the way he needed.
Well, if anyone was capable of it, it was him.
However, even as he rested his forehead on his knees to hide the tears that finally fell, he couldn’t help but hear the echoes of a conversation he’d had not so long ago. It had taken place in the deep hole the Fae called a jail, but some pits and prisons were metaphorical, he knew that better than most. And this was a dark place if ever he’d stumbled upon one. Only it wasn’t him hurting, but someone he’d hurt. And he couldn’t make anyone else suffer. Not again. Not anymore.
So he’d see if the words that had failed to reach him could somehow reach Amalia. He'd probably fail in this too, but that had never stopped him from trying. ”I-I didn’t…” His voice came out softly, so softly he wasn’t even sure if it was audible. ”I didn’t take away your m-memory of that night. You still, still remember...everything. You still remember everything. I didn’t take that away.” He hadn’t. He wouldn’t, even if he could. That was a cruelty beyond even his ability or capacity to inflict. If he could, even he wouldn't stoop that low.
But he’d been thoughtless and cruel nonetheless. Somehow, he managed to shrink even further in on himself, though it might’ve just been a minuscule shift away from Amalia. ”But...I’m sorry. S-sorry for taking away the reminder.” He’d offer to make her a new one, somehow, but he figured he’d done more than enough to her already.
Gods he just wanted it all to stop. But they never seemed to answer his prayers the way he needed.
But don’t be weary if it’s broken
Families are like that—
they’re split up and always torn.
