I have found a personal legend in affecting premature death. I am a foolish apprentice In wielding the pen. Found words the most mighty traitor to the sorcerer’s stone and elixer of life. Bringing poison to my soul. Never intended harming. The damage done. In this, most certainly returning gold to lead….and now I’m dead to Coehlo and the alchemist I love most. Not even the desert will speak to me. Nor would it want to. There is no water here. I fear. Oh Lavanta…. bring me better omens.