The Immortal. Sarachan. Or, to give him his full title, Sarachan The Endless. He was tall, dark. Hair flowed like an endless waterfall to his waist, j...t black and poker straight. He seemed to suck the light into him, the air blurring and twisting as he moved towards Brentt, the grass parting as he approached. His long raincoat flapped in the wind, slower and more deliberately than it should have. Deep within his eyesocket, the setting sun flared in a blood-red pinpoint. "Walk with me..." A. I slid onto a stool at the kitchen island and buried my face in my hands. Why you look like that? Alexander asked. I groaned. Tell me, man, Alexander said, taking a seat beside me and laying a hand on my back. What be wrong with my fine young man this wonderful morning. Im tired, I mumbled into my hands. Hmmm, Alexander murmured skeptically. He gave my back a friendly rub. When I didnt say anything further, he returned to his work counter, grabbed his drink and came back. Try this, he said. I. More

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