A Homecoming of Sorts (Open)

Loren could feel the beginnings of a headache coming on. All he had wanted was to quietly come back, maybe take a little bit of time to figure out the best way to tell those who’d worried—or apparently, mourned him, if Bea’s words were anything to go by—that he’d been lost and was hoping to be found. Now, though, he had a whole lot more on his plate than he’d ever imagined he would. And his already fragile psyche wasn’t holding up well under the pressure. Still, he’d hold himself together for the kid’s sake, if no one else. Running a finger through his hair and then rubbing his temples, the former librarian tried to come up with some way to explain to the child why he’d been absent. There wasn’t really any way to do that, though, so he settled for a simple response. “Basically, yes. My eyes were closed, and I was a long way away.” It was true enough, in its own way He closed said eyes now, for real, and took a deep, steadying breath. “But I’m back now. And I’m clearly not dead.” At least not physically: the jury was still out on whether he was really living or not, or just going through the motions. Then Beatrix dumped a lot of information on Loren all at once, and he had trouble keeping up with it all. There were bobcats and other dimensions and apparently some goddess who made the Ascended and maybe also a divine conflict, and all that was way over his head. Instead, the summoner focused on what he felt were the most salient pieces of information: Beatrix was here, clearly in need of care, presumably Jace was in a similar state, and there might be some other Launceleyn named Peter around. “Bea, is Peter here right now? And can you take me to Jace?” He’d make sure the kids were alright and then find someone who could explain the situation a little more clearly than a ten year old raised by Zariah (not the most patient of people) could. LOREN Not quite an open book