"If things work out the way I hope they will," Lambert enunciates, slowly, "I won't have to be a witcher anymore. And I won't need a chunk of metal just to remind me I should count myself lucky I survived something that killed most of the other boys I grew up with."

He shrugs, pushing himself to his feet.

"I'm giving up part of my past to make sure I still have a future. Seems fair to me."