He hadn’t detected the change; still assumed she was shrouded in shades of blue. The blue had been her colour for so long that even she wondered if it would ever change. Then, one night, the red had woken her up in the early hours, raging hot lava pouring through cold blue with a burning ferocity. She felt it’s raw pigment, pure and unbridled and was scared and exhilarated at the same time. She was still in the metamorphosis of red blue but the red was already shaping her through molten anger into a creature of power. Soon she would be completely red but for now she was red blue. And no-one would ever know, because blue carefully hid the red until it was time to change.


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