q

I can feel it sleeping.

And i can feel it burning.

It came from void, it would only ever be split in halves.

It was in the bloodline. Being born missing organs. A fire child is poisoning me, and there is no ally in sight. We cannot make a fair exchange. It will never beat, and it will never grow. For how can one grow swimming in bile?

A theft of Promethean proportions.

My heart, my tongue, my pulse.

It reoccurs, the desert, with the dry heat. The sound vibrations that made the air feel solid. I was there twice, and everything at my back was noise. Always to the East. The expansive place, that could never compare in size to its reverie. I'll spend my life searching for that red sand.

This phoenix child is in my way. I can feel its restlessness. As if its made deals with Agni, Ignis, and Ogon. Different names, but still fire.

What about the man?

The acceptor of sacrifices? The one who put the salamander under my skin? Who knows if he was ever truly there. As one wise alchemist said, he's a wanderer like the rest of us, except he's not going anywhere. He'll never end up anywhere but his own skin. A predatory creature, uninterested in the manifestations; sun, lightning, fire, volcanoes, lava, and all forms of light.

This isn't going to purify, it's just going to burn.

Part of you was there, at Gesher Benot Ya'aqov, but it has nothing to do with me.

And i don't want you around.

Either of you.

-Q!