My trembling hands delicately stroked the cut on my face and glanced at the blood that had dripped from the trace as I recalled the poisonous thought that Tristian had brought to my attention. My breathing grew frantic as I became aware of my consciousness shifting between being present and absent while looking into it. I was becoming disoriented until I realized that the blood had slowly faded away as it spewed blue smoke into the sky. Because of this, I discovered that the wound was scorching hot as it slowly regenerated, and that the blue smoke made it much more difficult to endure the process.

I was about to...