loren
Jigano’s shrug was meaningless to Loren. Perhaps it meant the white-haired man agreed; perhaps it meant he disagreed; or perhaps it simply meant that he was tired of the conversation and didn’t want to argue. The summoner certainly felt that way. It didn’t help when they continued speaking about the Launceleyns, and Loren’s past and present and future. He felt like he didn’t have much of a future, and that his past was his present, and it was a dark and sad and lonely present.
Yes, that was one way of looking at it, and even if the summoner acknowledged the others the bard proposed, Loren was set on his course. Maybe it was the wrong decision, but it was his, and he had precious few of those left to him these days. Granted, he couldn’t make progress on his secret, stupid, selfish dream until he knew everything was safe. And that included from Zariah. ”I’m still not convinced she’s coming back at all. But if she does, I’ll die before I bow to her will.” It came out softly, but completely matter-of-factly, and filled with a complete and genuine conviction: if his cousin came back and did not atone for his sins, the summoner would oppose her. She probably wouldn’t kill him, given how little of the family was left. And he could take whatever she chose to dish out at him.
Although Jigano was probably trying to cheer the Launceleyn up or be kind, it wasn’t going to work. If the bard found it hard to believe, well, that was his problem and not Loren’s. ”Magically and mentally weak, too.” Maybe not stupid, but useless, which was just as bad. And pretty much every independent action he’d taken since coming back had just reinforced the physical and mental weakness. But at least his magic was strong, which was ironic, because once upon a time that had been all he cared about. Well, life and his own piss-poor judgment had a funny way of kicking him in the teeth.
Normally the Launceleyn would’ve loved hearing about magic of any kind, even if it was magic he’d never experienced because it stemmed from a different world. However, the earlier conversation—and his own general malaise—had sapped any enjoyment he might’ve derived from the bard’s words. So the summoner remained silent through the other man’s explanation of his former abilities and how magic worked in the world he’d come from. ”I’m sorry for your loss.” Loren couldn’t imagine how terrible it would feel to lose such a core part of himself. And it sounded like Jigano felt similarly, and had actually experienced it.
Yes, that was one way of looking at it, and even if the summoner acknowledged the others the bard proposed, Loren was set on his course. Maybe it was the wrong decision, but it was his, and he had precious few of those left to him these days. Granted, he couldn’t make progress on his secret, stupid, selfish dream until he knew everything was safe. And that included from Zariah. ”I’m still not convinced she’s coming back at all. But if she does, I’ll die before I bow to her will.” It came out softly, but completely matter-of-factly, and filled with a complete and genuine conviction: if his cousin came back and did not atone for his sins, the summoner would oppose her. She probably wouldn’t kill him, given how little of the family was left. And he could take whatever she chose to dish out at him.
Although Jigano was probably trying to cheer the Launceleyn up or be kind, it wasn’t going to work. If the bard found it hard to believe, well, that was his problem and not Loren’s. ”Magically and mentally weak, too.” Maybe not stupid, but useless, which was just as bad. And pretty much every independent action he’d taken since coming back had just reinforced the physical and mental weakness. But at least his magic was strong, which was ironic, because once upon a time that had been all he cared about. Well, life and his own piss-poor judgment had a funny way of kicking him in the teeth.
Normally the Launceleyn would’ve loved hearing about magic of any kind, even if it was magic he’d never experienced because it stemmed from a different world. However, the earlier conversation—and his own general malaise—had sapped any enjoyment he might’ve derived from the bard’s words. So the summoner remained silent through the other man’s explanation of his former abilities and how magic worked in the world he’d come from. ”I’m sorry for your loss.” Loren couldn’t imagine how terrible it would feel to lose such a core part of himself. And it sounded like Jigano felt similarly, and had actually experienced it.
Never judge a book by its cover.
