Sometimes Timothy says or does things that remind me that our relationship is mostly professional and not one of friends. Not because he doesn't want to be friends, he just can't. Tim doesn't have friends. He has associates, he has clients, he has dealers and sellers and contacts.

For example, I noticed Eaia had not been around for a few weeks, which was strange because he was usually very punctual; so I asked Tim if he had been by while I was away. Timothy casually told me that Eaia had been killed in an attempted mugging and thus would not be by anymore. The casual tone of it chilled me. Eaia was filthy and haggard and smelled horrible, but he was still a person and deserves at least a moment of mourning in his name.

When I asked how he knew, he told me he just did and started telling me details about it, how two men grabbed him and beat him and how Eaia was ill and frail and it was the middle of winter... but I stopped him. I didn't need to know more.

Immortality means you are forced to watch a parade of death play out in front of you. Every child becomes old and frail and withers away right before your eyes. Some cope by building walls around their hearts and never letting anyone close. It's why I can't hold Timothy's coldness against him.

Poor Eaia. I'll remember you in my prayers.