LOREN
As Maea asked to be trained as Loren had been trained, Loren’s eyes darkened. He gave her one last burst of healing magic. Only then did he attended his own wounds, the cuts from the rain of ice and the punctures from her icy spears crawling shut underneath a wave of sky blue light.
Then he stood. "No." The word was swift, curt, and harsh. "I will train you, but not how I was trained." Taking a step back, he crossed his arms and shook his head. "Because it broke me. And I swore never to inflict that on another person." Suddenly disgusted with himself, he pulled out a flask and drained it in one gulp.
Putting it back into his pocket, he stared at her with haunted eyes. "Besides, Zariah will train you that way. There are other ways though. Better ways." His voice came out bitterly.
Then he stood. "No." The word was swift, curt, and harsh. "I will train you, but not how I was trained." Taking a step back, he crossed his arms and shook his head. "Because it broke me. And I swore never to inflict that on another person." Suddenly disgusted with himself, he pulled out a flask and drained it in one gulp.
Putting it back into his pocket, he stared at her with haunted eyes. "Besides, Zariah will train you that way. There are other ways though. Better ways." His voice came out bitterly.
But don’t be weary if it’s broken
Families are like that—
they’re split up and always torn.
