The ghost's face cracked into a grin. Maybe it was just a trick of the mind, but there seemed to be green and blue fire behind the teeth of the ghost, and his eyes flared in color. His deep basso voice thundered out, "The death of a child is trivial to that which I have seen," he looked over those present, "I joined this 'conversation'," he mocked, "as I also inhabit this castle," the word seemed to poison his very essence, because, as though a light were inside of him, he glowed faintly green for a brief moment, "I have seen very few here who deserve the title 'wizard', and I will respect who I wish, your mortal coil loosened its grip on me ages ago, why should I respect it by respecting those undeserving of it." He snarled, it was a statement rather than a question.