145.3 \ 337

It was flashing light in motion between bodies in balanced relation, push and redirection in grim concentration. There was no sound other than the clash of wills. The breeze of the upper air ruffling the skychamber’s curtains brushed the combatant’s cheeks. They watched each other’s motion, looked each other in the eyes, tilting gazes for angle periphery differentiation – focused. This happened for a small eternity, both Princess Ascendant and King Proxem suspended in fluid animation. Both were at peak in this moment, her power in growth, his in fruition. This couldn’t last forever, though it did.

Princess Soleil loosed a silent to roaring scream of effort to throw enough in to tip the scales in any direction; she didn’t know if she was doing it aloud. She committed her body. Feeling the opening between them, knowing it would leave her vulnerable, she took it. There was a decision in every part of the motion. Soleil’s awareness flash-bonded along Dusk-Arrow’s entire edge as it sought destiny. There was no protecting this action.

King Proxem Vario also took the opening when it appeared. It was the only place for his blades to go, he was too good not to use his skill, though horrifying. Nothing less than the contest in this. He respected her and he respected himself. He could see every mistake and consequence. He also committed, and both their weapons might find their mark. Wherever this blow landed, it would not be inconsequential. It would be life-taking.

Strange things happen when a life is truly in danger. Things occur that don’t otherwise occur. A moment may precipitate, that is exceedingly unique unto itself. Soleil’s dragongift separated itself from her.

There was a perception that occupied time within time, which overtook Grant Vario and Soleil, Magus locked in lethal trajectory. Transfixing, he saw everything he might have thought of her or seen her to be – clearly, knowingly, honestly, in distinct simultaneity. Soleil perceived every disguise that she or he might ever wear, abyssal flickers in the fabric of reality. The boon became its own vibration separate from her, the Scale, active, in the air between them; there was the other, the self, and the mirror. A timespan split finely as an atom, perceived completely.

ACAMAR went to claim er scale. Somewhere, there was an important part of er that was no longer bound. Dragons respond to their own business. Acamar went to do this thing immediately, regardless of what was in progress, or the context in which it would transpire. A new Dragon does understand the strong call. ‘E brought what was in er coils, despite the weight. That was the retiring revolutionary. They were immediately there.

ACAMAR saw everything and put everything together, including who ‘e brought. Sturlusson had a place in this. The Dragon’s coils spasmed and sent Raev flying at the speed of physics toward the fight. Raev’s body formed into a spear, clasping the ingot, activating it instantly with total energy.

ACAMAR suddenly tearing through reality had stirred the edge of a fomenting whirlpool of activity throughout the dragonroad dimensional axyes, so it was that there – in that place, in that moment – reality erupted in Dragons. Human perception places them most easily in the sky, and so they filled the sky with all that could be present because they already were in some way; and, there was no more exile.

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