This time, Bologue was silent for a while before he spoke again, "Serey, what's wrong with you?"
"Me? I'm fine."
Serey managed to force an awkward smile, "It's just cyclical anxiety, it'll be fine in a few days. It's a common ailment among the Undead, after all, we live for so long."
Bologue pressed on with an unusually serious tone, "No, you know that's not what I'm asking."
This time it was Serey's turn to be silent, his eyes clearing at a perceptible pace. For a Night Race Lord, breaking free from the grip of alcohol was the simplest thing imaginable.
"I'm just bearing the price, Bologue. Immortality is not a Blessing, but a Curse. A long life dulls all your emotions; nothing remains precious, nothing can stir your heart anymore."
Serey recalled what he had once said to Bologue, "I really envy you, you're still young."
Clearly, this conversation ended in yet another unhappy parting.
