A shattered world for a moment realigns.

Strange that this should feel like it's the natural state of things, and yet it is. For a long time the broken nature of the world felt natural, normal, but it wasn't. Even when the world was made whole you hadn't noticed it at first. It wasn't until Princess Qiu's transcendent skill carved the cosmos into three parts that you realized how unnatural and how artificial the separation was. How wrong it felt that these were three stories in parallel rather than one story in blended colour and motion.

A sword rises in the air, the sky and it's so natural here! Flight is carved into the bones of the Sky Castle, it is the truth that radiates from the Sunshard in its hidden depth. To scale upwards, by ladder or by engine or, indeed, by sword. Perhaps you didn't even need to be a Princess to fly atop a sword in this place of Jessic's dreams - but you would at least need to dream of becoming one. As eyes raise to watch Chen fly above the arena spirits lift too, the symphony of hearts who still haven't grown used to leaving gravity behind.

And below the sword, on steps of stone, is Rose at the feet of Countess Keron. She hasn't been watching the fight - she's been a bad girl and so is serving today as a footrest. But for all the gently wrapping ropes that correct her posture and bind her shapeshifting form into an ideal body she still has enough freedom to raise her eyes up and see her saviour above. Her heart fills with the thunderous uncertainty of knowing that there will soon be a fight over [i]her[/i]. She is not a warrior today, she is not a hunter, she is not a tool - she is a prize to be won. 

She can only watch as Countess Keron stands, handmaidens swarming around her in shielding curtains as they armour her from toes to breasts in razor sharp leather and steel, lightning-crackling war gauntlets clicking into place, streak of red battle-dye sliced into her hair. The Countess does not fight for love, and she knows that puts her at a disadvantage, but she fights for other things - for confidence, for self-respect, for the dignity of every girl who puts their trust and allegiance in her hands. She has promised those who kneel before her that they kneel before someone worthy of their obedience, someone who will guarantee their safety, someone who will hold them exactly as tightly as they want to be held. Those are no small promises, and they will defeat any small or fickle loves that stand against them.

But it is no small love that sings and slashes in the heart of the arena. It is still a duel that takes place there but the Princesses themselves could not promise better performance. It is a duel of dresses and fur and silk and swords all whirling under the sun upon a castle built on clouds. It is a duel that leaves its shape in the sand, the divots of turns as sharp as knives and the delicate dimples from footsteps as light as air. And that was all from before the world healed.

For the first time today blade meets blade and the strength of slender arms presses into each other, even as blue and orange dresses kiss at the hems. Two maidens lock eyes with the same speechless conviction as they did when it was maiden and wolf. Perhaps Hyra noticed the flow of magic from this strange moment and took advantage of it, or perhaps it is simply that a pure heart is stronger than all the Sunshards, perhaps it is that the full moon has risen out of fear that if it is not proactive in serving the needs of maidens then it might end up shot from the sky like the suns before it. Whatever it is, for a short while the curse is eclipsed and the warriors engage as equals.

And this is no longer a clash, it's a canvas. The sweeps of Tianic's long and slender blade aren't the guarded, hesitant strikes of someone afraid to break it, these are the sweeps of a brush. Her objective has changed and she isn't looking to overpower Yue any more than a painter seeks to overpower her paint. Ebb and flow and flick and spin and step and step and she takes the chaotic patterns cut into the arena sand and starts to formalize them, to organize them. If she attacks you this, this, that, and runs her blade through the sand like [i]so[/i] in the offense she can write the first line of a mandala into the floor of the arena. 

[i]A clash of blades, a painting in sand[/i]. That would make a good Daily Affirmation of the Way <3