She possessed a unique sensitivity to poison, even to the Scorchborn’s venom. Before becoming a true being of darkness, she had been a creature of poison. Her transformation began with the ability to dissect the weavers’ poison, discarding its harmful parts and evolving from what remained. Could she apply this to the wizard? Could she extract the Scorchborn’s disease, split it, and perhaps even have him regain energy from what remained?
Midnight had not been able to grasp physical bodies or Rothar, not with the fiator and not with the wizard. But poison was not the wizard. It was something that had become of the wizard. Reflecting on her understanding of change, Midnight realised that poison brought change to the body and mind. This made it part of the Material Dimension. Yet, poison was more than just a substance. That which was poison was not defined by matter. It was transformation —induced through matter. Poison was a process, inherently destructive by definition.
The similarities to her thoughts on existence, the parallels between nothingness and poison were startling. Midnight did not know where all these thoughts came from. Her own awareness disturbed her.
But it was true. Midnight had experienced this truth. She had turned destruction into something else: after her battle with the rock weavers, she had suppressed the destructive and gained strength from transformation. If the Existence Arachnid did not remain subject to the poison but made the poison something of herself, then destruction was not the end, but the beginning of change.
This wizard here, now, was a transformer. He was a shapeshifter, a wizard of change by nature. Could Midnight not guide him towards transformation? Why had the Scorchborn continued to poison him? Was it merely poison, or something more insidious that had been imbued into him? Given his near-unconscious state, could she split the poison for him, or extract it from him? Once more, she sent forth her essence, careful not to be pulled in by the artefact.
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