Teyra’s Mumbles

“When you look back at your life, what do you see?”

“Fading souls,” Teyra answered her own question in a little mumble, flipping the little ball of wispy purple light back and forth in her hands, “They’re sad little things. I wish I could help them, but I’m not strong enough to.” She was talking to no one in particular, sitting in the kitchen of a house that was not her own. It was the house of a powerful Ghoul, a man by the name of Alois. At least, that was his name for now. He said he had changed it numerous times. He was old, relatively unchanging. He was well kept, despite what he was. Others of his kind lost their minds frequently, devouring flesh to try to fill a hole in their stomachs. It was similar to the Vampires’ need to feed on blood, she was told. As rare as intelligent Ghouls were, she actually knew another. It was a woman who lived in the same monastery where she had been raised. Monks of an interesting nature, she was lucky to have them.

Alois stepped out of a nearby room, dressed in his typical spotless white suit. He looked annoyed. No surprise there, he often looked annoyed, though the annoyment was rarely related to her. He touched the soul, taking it from her and kissing her in the same smooth movement, “Shall we? As fashionable as it is, I still despise being late.”

She nodded, sighing at the loss of the little soul, and stood. Teyra took his arm, “Can we try not to make a scene this time? I don’t like having a headache from that Outsider nonsense. You know I don’t want Verus to be killed either. He’s my friend.”

“A wonderful friend, I’m sure,” he said with a hatred in his voice, “No promises, especially considering your choice in friends sucks.”