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“None of my kind have ever died.” he said, peering into his mug with a bit of unease, trying to think back to all of his ‘lifetimes’. “It has simply, never come up. Not that I know of, anyway.”

While Sarosh picked through his mind, he could remember being hurt, while he had been in a human body, but he did not know if he had a heart to be pierced, and if that if he did, if he would become quiet and still and final. the way living creatures did when they died. Death was a mysterious thing to the Genie.

“Once, I fell and cut my knee, and it bled for a little while. It was Red, like human blood. The blood turned to sand once it touched the ground however… and I healed, when my master bandaged it up for me…” he said, hoping the information would be helpful to Ravin. He did not quite fully understand just how different he was from the humans he now called friends, tho he felt some small nudge of alienation. Everyone in the group seemed to possess a freedom. They loved and laughed and bickered amongst themselves, on a quest, but also free to do what it was that their heart willed them to. Sarosh, who could not only Not Love, was also bound to the Flask, to do as Ravin said. His existence was defined by that narrow path. Although he did not think to aspire to anything else. Even free from his magic, for the most part, as he was. Sometimes, before he could shut this away from himself, he felt a bit sad. But there was no reason to be sad, he told himself. He had a kind master who was more concerned with him, then the wishes he could grant. Although that confused Sarosh a bit, it still made him smile, even if it did leave him confused as to his place among the humans. The freedom he believed them to have both attracted and frightened him. He didn’t know what he was, if he was not a Genie, and did not know how to go about finding out.

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