Vastras sat down opposite Trei slowly, in the chair that the Fate had been using.
The ghoul looked ragged, and thin. His skin was starting to waste again, and his eyes were sunken. He seemed tired, too tired for all of this. Ready to go to his rest, to give up on the life that had been forced on him.
He looked up at her slowly with those dark eyes that lit the pit of her stomach on fire, watching her, uncomprehending. He was too worn out to realise who she was. Too close to the threshold of death.
Vastras drew a knife and cut open the palm of her hand, and cupped it, offering it to him.
Trei didn't seem to notice, or respond, at first. Then he sniffed the air, as if his instincts were guiding him and his mind was still asleep. The mage squealed as her hand was suddenly grabbed and she was yanked off the seat. She shivered and struggled not to giggle as it tickled. The ghoul slavered over her, and she pulled back, "That's enough, Trei."
The creature moaned, but settled back against the wall where it was chained.
Vastras glared angrily, and waved a handful of dust in the air. "Damn. You really aren't home, are you, Trei?"
She'd been flirting with an uninhabited flesh sack.
Her elf companion emerged from the wall silently, pointing a spear.
Vastras sneered, turning to her, "That is his flesh. His soul is elsewhere. Can you track it?"
YOU ARE READING
Summer Garden
FantasyTrei died. He got roasted by a mage, for trying to be a hero. Things aren't so bad. At least he didn't stay dead. Summer's life was always difficult. Her world was on the verge of war, a politician threatening to take her crown. Resurrecting Trei wa...
