Thoth had never been a great conversationalist, but even for him, this behavior was weird. He seemed distracted, and not just by the unicorn doing…something with his tent. Mace cast the creature a skeptical look, before returning his attention to Thoth with a squint. The boy’s eyes were unfocused, staring into the distance between them as if contained multitudes, when mostly it just contained gnats and the faint aroma of unwashed man.
Then Thoth came to, blinking.
“Did I just what?” Mace asked gently, in that voice he used with troubled kids and agitated horses. That energy still shimmered over him just at the edge of his vision, like a distant mirage. “I used to,” he hedged, unconvinced. But something about this description tugged at a thread in him, filled him with an urgent need to move…
“Oh Christ. It’s my ren, isn’t it? You’re powerful enough to see it.” In the Alliance, it was rare for a soldier to get their ren quest from a diety – it was usually that one magically adept member of the regiment, handing out rens like the oracle at delphi. Mace had operated under the assumption that he’d follow in that storied tradition…but he’d always assumed the person would be older.
He leaned back, massaging his temple with a sigh. The silhouette of his ren was already burned into his eyelids, the instinct to go look for it digging deep into his bones. He knew the quest wouldn’t leave him alone until he’d finished it. But there was so much to do, so many responsibilities here at camp…
“This couldn’t come at a worse time. Where do I even begin?”
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