[Ion takes a deep breath, glad for the reprieve from a raised voice but wary of the tense, meaningful silence that falls in its wake. He stands, and looks down at the symbol at the top of his staff as if that will somehow help the words come to him more easily.]

I've spent most of my life thinking something very similar: is this really what I'm meant to do? What is it about who I am that matters? I believe...I've always believed, that every person in the world serves their own special and equally important purpose. Still, I can't apply that same logic to myself, who was brought into the world only to serve as a substitute for someone else. How can I be unique when I've been molded into a life that was never meant for me? The more I think about it, the more lost I feel.

[His hands ball into fists, his soft voice somehow growing even softer.]

I've known since the moment I came to be that, at any moment, I can simply be replaced by another replica of who I'm meant to be--like a tool, easily broken but just as easily supplied.

[A thick knot forms in the back of Ion's throat and he shoves it back down, suddenly aware of how much he's been talking. Maybe too quickly, he turns back around to face Sandalphon, and smiles apologetically.]

I'm sorry. I got carried away--it probably wasn't appropriate to say so much, and I hope I haven't made you uncomfortable.