Dear Igneel: First entry

        Dear Igneel,
Before I go into today's entry, I think I'll write down a bio, might make it easier for people to know who I was if I wind up one of the victims.

Name: Anthony
Age: Twenty-eight
Occupation: Police investigator
Height: 5'9"
Weight: 150 lb
Description: Jet black hair, green eyes, wears contacts, usually has an energy pendant made of jade around his neck(a relic from his travel's, doesn't really do anything)
Notes: Currently working on hunting down the man responsible for the murders, all of which found dead in a burning building. Is extremely near sighted and is almost blind without his contacts.

Now that that's settled, there was another fire tonight, an abandoned warehouse scheduled for demolition. He actually saved the demolition team from doing any work. No injuries this time around. Maybe this guy does jobs for people, maybe they knew they'd get money from the insurance companies and hired him to burn this place to the ground. Either way, no footprints, no hair follicles, nothing, no evidence whatsoever. The only thing we found was a dark marked area, a ring around the dead center of the building, tendrils of dark marks spreading out from the center. He used gasoline to light this fire I suppose. We were dealing with a madman, but he was a meticulous one. This same method had been used in all other arson cases the counties had in the last four years, that's how we knew it was the same guy. Whoever he was he was rather intelligent about what he was doing, no evidence was ever left, even when we found the four bodies, all of which were Jane Doe's, each female and burned so much we couldn't even recognize them as humans save for the dried blood around the. We weren't dealing with an amateur. This guy was a professional pyro. I'll write more as it develops, though the news is making it a circus, like they do everything. "Flaming serial killer at large!" pfft, as if it were that simple. He wasn't considered a serial killer, he was considered a killer sure, but he was more an arsonist.

Dear Igneel,

       Dear Journal,
I must be insane for thinking this will help, I'll get myself tested on the day of the week that doesn't end in "y". I've decided to keep up with the current fire related murders in you as an extension of my memory, maybe it'll help me catch them. Before we go any further, I need to give you a name, might make this feel more personal, I'll introduce myself then. Let's see, you're meant to help me keep track of arsonist reports and murder's, Pyrus? No, not original. How about, Igneel? Yeah, I think that'll work just fine. Well then Igneel, I'm Anthony. Either way, I'll start writing about the case next chance I get.
                                                                                                                                            -Anthony

Questions unasked and unanswered

What does the moon think of the stars?

       Perhaps it's jealous, for it knows the stars are not bound to a planet like itself. Perhaps it feels empathy, for it knows they cannot leave. Perhaps it feels superior, for they seem small to it. Perhaps it feels inferior, for they stand together, while it stands alone. Perhaps it feels watched, for their vigilance is unflinching. Perhaps it feels alone, for they cannot hear it. Perhaps it feels annoyed, for they do not answer it's voice. Perhaps it feels amazed, for they are vast and beautiful. Perhaps it is humbled, for it cannot compare to them. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps...

What becomes of dreams we have forgotten?

      Perhaps they will fade to dust, crumbling into the abyss, never to be remembered. Perhaps they stay, hidden deep within the veil of subconsciousness. In truth, this question cannot be answered, maybe we don't want to know where the dreams go. Into the deepest, most primal recesses of our minds to lie dormant with our most primal instincts. Perhaps they're forgotten for a reason, perhaps we shouldn't attempt to search for something we can't understand. Maybe our minds saw the power of the dream and had to hide it from us, for perhaps we aren't ready to see what it contains. Perhaps our minds just cannot comprehend the power of the dream. Perhaps it is a combination of all of them, some are dark and powerful, some are harmless and meaningless. Perhaps it is nothing, we don't know.

Tenka ember

Life starts with a spark

Flourishing from the embers

The warm orange glow

Giving life and taking it

A judge of all of our sins

Quite strange,is it not?

That something so powerful

is also so tame

We are the ones in control

And yet it can destroy us

The embers choose me

I am to control the flame

No,that is not it

I let the flame control me

I am nothing but a tool

This deadly game ends

But only when the world burns

My job is easy

I am but a conduit

The flames do all of the work

Birth of a flame

   The ember's beginning's

       All life, you see, starts with a spark, a spark that must be tended to grow and feed and spread across the globe, it's in this stage that the fire is but an ember, a sapling needing a caring mother, which in this case, is whatever is unlucky enough to get in it's way. It's through this parent that the ember begins to nurture into a weak and feeble flame, then a bigger one, the fuel that it takes to feed it becoming consumed, catering to it like a mother would it's child. The flame would grow and spread and feed, doing what it does best. We see the flame as hope, life, and power. The fire gave us warmth, protected us from the monsters that lurked in the night, cooked our food so we wouldn't starve. It gives life, but it can just as easily take that away. A single failure is punishable by something as minor as scarring, or as severe as death. It is kind and benevolent, yet angry and unforgiving. It is only through the planet's lifeblood that we are spared from it's wrath. That lifeblood, being water.

       Water, the very bane of the fire. It's power to snuff out the giving light and replace it with a cold, suffocating darkness, is all to real. By nature we fear the dark and embrace the light, water keeps the fire at bay so that we may enjoy it's warmth. Ancient's worshipped the fire as a god, a piece of the stars in mortal hands. Yet, how something so divinely given can be taken away by something so earthly, I will never know. I'm not much for questioning the logic of the universe, it's far beyond my understanding. Though, I do know why I was put on this planet.

To burn.

       To burn and spread and grow, to take the hideous machinations of man off of the earth, and replace them with a glorious flame. This place has many places to burn, and so little time to do it. They can't understand, but I can. Nature has called upon me, a humble lover of the divine flame, to do it's bidding. I can't refuse this offer, not when the world is at stake. I must nurture the flames myself, and control them, have them burn what I desire. Everything is as I expected, everything is as I wanted, except for one thing. They try and stop me, try and keep me from returning the world to it's former glory. I will fight to the last breath for my flames, and even become fuel for them if I have no choice. The way I see it, I was born with a spark, and I'll die with an inferno. I am the spark that has grown so large that even nature has taken notice. Man will fear me, the lifeblood will be wary of me, I will not stop until I have eliminated every, last, one. That is my only desire and joy now, the thrill of seeing my creation, my little flames, burst and grow into majestic phoenixes that take to the sky's before nature pulls them back again to the earth to continue their divine duty of burning before they can escape to the heaven's among the angels. If nature had not brought them to earth, what could they have burned? The towns? The cities? The world even? Or perhaps, they would not stop there, perhaps they would travel onwards beyond this place, into the very stars from above, to rejoin their ancestors that had given the original flames to us.

        Maybe the stars aren't yet ready to accept their descendants, perhaps they don't even remember sending pieces of themselves to the earth , raining fire down from the heavens upon the earth in a glorious show of power and majesty. If only I could've seen it! If only, but the flames of the structures, the worthless mechanisms dying to the all consuming power of the flames, will sate my appetite for burning. For now. I've begun to get curious, I burn so many structure's, but they will just rebuild, perhaps if I strike the problem at its source, rather than at the leaves. Yes, yes that may work, I've always been curious, about what a human would look like burning, perhaps the difference wouldn't be that great, but what if it is? How will I know if I don't try? This is most bothersome indeed. Do I make one of the great sacrifice's, and end the life of another living creature? Or, do I spend the rest of my days, fighting a battle I may or may not win, always wondering what could've been. I'm done debating, this plan will be in action, soon enough...