She looks like she's expecting to have the leg broken, not healed.

She nods to the priest of Shelyn.

He squats, pours a fine powder over the injured leg, then places his hand firmly on Ember's knee.

Over a few seconds, the limb straightens beneath Ember's clothes, and fills out a little more. Destroyed muscle is being replaced.

Ember closes her eyes at the touch, and stays completely still.

The priest of Shelyn raises his hands. "It's done. Try and stand?"

Ember grasps her cane, and levers herself to standing. 

She tests the limb. 

It holds her weight. 

She looks at Kumi and nods.

Good. If she does nothing else here it has been worth it.

Now she should give Ember a few days to get used to her new mobility in her limb. That will put more doubts into her head. 

"Do you have somewhere to stay here? An inn?"

"Yes. I have enough coin to pay my passage."

"Go, then. Relearn your sense of balance and your range of motion. I want you to test your healed limb thoroughly and make sure it is fit for service. We can meet again in two days; that should be long enough to prove it good or bad."

Ember doesn't disagree. 

"Well enough." 

She's leaning less hard on the cane, now. And there is a ghost of a smile on her lips.

She must be repressing so hard right now.

Kumi just nods. "You know where to find me." 

She walks away.

She will linger and look at this garden a little more. What is its purpose? There is something that calls to her about it, but she does not understand it. 

People come and go around her. More patients who need injuries healed. People appreciating the garden. 

She gets a few stares. Her scars are very striking.

... they can tell she is attached to this frippery, can't they. 

She leaves, cane in hand. It is never permissible to be seen becoming attached to something. All things but pain are impermanent. 

No-one follows her. She is back into the city and free to do whatsoever she wants with herself.

She heads back towards her inn. It's a simple enough test walk.

Notice it. The simple absence of pain. The sounds of the city around you. Hawkers in the market. Salt off the inner sea. The simple repetitive motion of each leg, a steady rhythm. 

You've never had the simple joy of walking where you wished. You could not go where you wished, and you could hardly walk. Now both are mended. 

Isn't it obviously better?

She walks so easily now. She expects the familar hitch with each step, the pull of her muscle that's never quite healed since she was a child. 

She misses it. 

It feels like a friend has deserted her. 

She walks a little faster. 

The pain still does not come.

Come now, surely you can give me pain if I try hard enough. 

She speeds up. Her feet beat the pavement in time, one after the other. 

Still she feels little. 

She breaks out into a flat out run. 

At last, there's what she was looking for. 

And here is your inn, darling. Closer than you ever felt it was before.

The sight of her inn pulls her up short, panting, her walking-stick trailing in her hand. 

She's filled with a raw, wild exultation she usually only gets when she's cutting into someone's flesh. 

She feels good. 

She sees Ember suddenly light up in her godly senses, a brilliant flash of release - 

Got you. 

Her body is exhausted and aches absolutely gloriously. She has to pause and take long breaths against the wall of the inn.

She aches all through her thighs and legs and in her chest. 

She could have had this all her life. This raw, wild, glorious pain.

Instead Nidal hobbled her. 

The absolute bastards. 

She goes up to her room, leaves her cane on the far-too-soft bed. 

She eats. The pain recenters her. 

The high of running fades away and only the hurt in her limbs and chest remains.

It's different, though. A little more like the scars on her face. 

The anger fades a little. 

Only suffering is permanent. 

... she's being deceived by the pleasure. This won't last. Her leg will be worse again tomorrow. 

Better get good use out of it today, then. 

She leaves her cane in her room and goes out into the city.

Poor thing. Still waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

In Nidal this would simply never happen. Their priests are not in the business of undoing damage. 

Learn, dove. Fly free.