I am going to rise out of this. I am going to rise out of this. I am going to rise out of this, swirled out of flames to metamorphose Phoenix-like the bird I’ve always been, able to vastly flare through azure blue sky. I am going to rise out of this dismemberment. The healer is dying to herself: a body of bones and joints all broken and used. And more murder on the way. Three more knife-wounds yet to go. And if her mind can strengthen to be able to endure all that those woundings entail, she will rise to become the Healer she always has been.