"It is not a normal wound," he explains with fraying patience, and holds up his hand, the anchor shard flaring green before dissipating. "It is akin to this thing, though the physical ramifications are more readily apparent. There is no point in letting some stranger poke and prod at my vitals just to tell me what I already know."

He shrugs a massive shoulder as if what he said amounts to nothing. As if dying is nothing.

It's all so very simple.

"Either I will consume this magic festering within or it will consume me."