Araithion's scythes dropped out of his hands, puffing into red mist before they hit the ground. His eyes were now glowing a brighter red. 'What did you just say?'

"You need a friend. Someone that unerstabds you."

He huffed and looked the other direction. 'I have no need for such a useless thing,' he snarled. 'Understands me? Ha! I'm certain Patrion understands me, and we are the most pin-point, opposing forces in this plane!'

"Actually, I do."

He curled his hands into tight fists, the skin around his knuckles turning white. He laughed, a raw sound. 'Ha! Oh, ha! The day a mortal like you understands me, ha!'

"Qhat makes you think im amortal?" The voice kewps talking.

Now Arai's voice was bitter. 'I can feel it pouring from you,' he said. ''A school of mortals, born to die...'' He sounded like he had quoted something as he muttered to himself.

" Well, maybe we die. But we are probably more happy. " Said Evan coolly.

Arai's muscles tightened. 'Killing gives me plenty of delight,' he said. 'Something I can do for eternity.' He went back to his mumbling.

"Maybe I am mortal. Maybe I'm not. Doesn't mater. But what happens when you kill everyone and everything and there's no one left? If killing gives you delight, wouldn't you have to kill yourself?"