death incarnate & night triumphant

The explanation of the purgatory that the ghost so found themselves trapped in has him blinking in surprise. Andras had never dealt with the dead, nor did he think much on them before he met this interesting witch. Of course, he remembered the dead, let himself wallow in his memories of his sister, of his mother, and his father. They were not always good memories. Especially the memory that so haunted his dreams nearly every night of his family burned and torn limb for limb. How such a monster could so desecrate the dead was beyond him. And when he found what was left of his family, of his court, he tore down mountains to find the perpetrators. Even all these centuries later, he was left in the dark.

So, as they step out of the forest and into the more civilized world, Andras moves aside to let Sera lead the way back to her home. As the rhetorical question leaves the witch's mouth, the Fae's lips twist into a dark smile. Offering a small shrug, he merely nods for her to lead the way. As she takes off, another jabbing comment thrown in his direction, he allows a midnight chuckle to so escape his lips as he shoves his hands into his pockets and follows her, like the good dog he was.

As he trails after her, he's surprised when the bluntly asks if his sister's dead. Arching a brow, he gives her a humorless smile, "If she wasn't dead, I'm sure my inner bloodhound would have found her by now," he says dryly. He didn't expect his dead sister to be accompanying him anywhere, hell, he wasn't even sure if she remained in-between. She very well could have passed on with no regrets. He was hopeful she remained, yet there was a part of Andras that hoped she had moved on, so she didn't have to deal with this hellhole of a world.

The memory plows through him once more as Sera comments about knowing the place where his sister was murdered. Nearly faltering in step, he quickly covers his wavering self, "I can take you there if need be, but it's a long way from here," he states realizing that he could very well be sending them both on a wild goose chase. Andras's mind visualizes his old home, deep within those snowy mountains, his court nearly impenetrable and yet, someone still managed to sneak through those wards and kill everyone there. It was something he didn't want to admit, but the Lord was aware that there could have been a traitor in their midst.

There was no other explanation of how.

"If you need to travel to where she died, I can take you. Though, I'm sure most of the remains of my home have been lost to time," he shrugs casually, not allowing that grief an inch of freedom he so kept locked in his being. As he continues following the strange woman down the street, he allows those dark hazel eyes to travel the shadows, searching for danger. A habit he picked up over the centuries. Increasing his pace, he comes to stand next to her, having to shorten his strides to remain at the witch's place, "How far is your home?" he asks a bit absent mindedly whilst his hands causally slide into his pockets.

Waiting for a response, he then continues their conversation.

"So, tell me, seeing ghosts," he gestures with a hand at the expanse of darkness around them as if there were dead people following them at this moment, "Is that something you learned, or have you always been able to do it?

Andras Steinhello darling