A flash of intense white montarily blinded , my ears filled with an indescribable roar, and the fresh scent of parsley wafted into my nostrils. Then, as swiftly as it ca, it vanished, leaving behind the pulsing rhythm, the glowing rune, the odd scenery, and a sense of accomplishnt.
The connection was made.
Preparing myself for the next stage, I tried to steady my thoughts.
The stiletto embedded in the ground began to quiver, which puzzled . Shortly after, a deep hum beca discernible. Focusing on it, I managed to identify the rhythm.
Rhythms...
That sparked a thought.
I extended my left hand, palm facing upwards, while concentrating on the rhythm. Doing the sa with my right hand, I focused on the hum. Slowly, I brought my hands together, flipping them so that the palms were touching. Behind , I could sense Opal expanding and retracting his wings. My eyes seed to close automatically. A wave of exhaustion hit , causing unease considering the tasks still ahead.
Suddenly, the hum synchronized with the established rhythm.
I wondered how I would transcribe this process in a spellbook if I ever decided to do so.
The object I sought was over there, and I needed it here. Most of the connections had been made: "there" was symbolized by the trembling knife, "here" was the glowing rune. But beyond that, I had to shatter a spatial barrier and conjure sothing that didn't exist while eliminating sothing that didthough in reality, I was rely initiating a spatial rearrangent.
As complex as it sounds to hear, imagine executing it.
I had beco a nexus of rhythm and vibrations, vision and noise, of an oscillating landscape, a resonating knife, a shining rune, and a pulse.
They were unified by my will and the symbols in front of . Picture a taphysical balancing act within the mind to get a semblance of what it felt like.
The most challenging part was yet to co.
I guess if I had more ti, I might have concocted a chant, but I've never been skilled at that. Ti was a luxury I didn't have. Opal fortified , and I directed this newfound power into the enchantnt, amplifying the tension. The rhythm intensified, and the candle before suddenly burst into brilliance.
It was alarming.
My focus narrowed on it, morphing the sudden brilliance into a cascade of sparkles, which burst into a globe of shimring void. I collected it again, surrounding the candle fla with a halo of multicolored lights. I didn't have to instruct Opal to seize control of it; my desire communicated itself and he complied.
My breath stilled and I felt my eyes sharpen. I was at ease, part of the flow, no longer on the periphery. I was in a transient phase that I could exploit while it lasted. Now was the mont to connect the origin and the destination, to map out the trajectory for reality's alteration.
The knife trembled as if indicating, "Begin here." Alright then, comnce there, but what next? I shifted my gaze from the knife to the rune and back. Stretching out my right hand, with my forefinger extended, I drew a line. I replicated the motion. And again.
I maintained the process, always moving from knife to rune. Eventually, a flaming line materialized between them.
It felt appropriate. I lifted my gaze. The scenery continued to ripple as if reality was a mirage, threatening to engulf . That could be daunting if I permitted it.
My left hand seed paralyzed, a fraction of my consciousness aware that it was positioned over the rune. My right hand drifted aimlessly until it, too, ca to a halt. It hovered directly over the shivering knife.
I took a deep breath, exhaling slowly.
Clenching my right hand into a fist, I gradually moved it towards my left. I encountered a non-physical resistance. It felt as if I comprehended what needed to be done and yearned to do it, but actualizing the action ant battling an overpowering lethargy. I recognized itit was the universe protesting against this manipulationbut that realization didn't make it easier. Despite the resistance, my hands began to converge. Once they t, the rupture would occur, and I'd surrender everything to it.
Failure, in a way, was out of the question now. My only outcos were triumph, or insanity and demise.
My right fist made contact with my left hand.
The world seed to cradle in my palms. A wave of profound clarity washed over , the horizon beca steady, and I found myself unaffected by the surrounding pulses. The universe appeared to suspend its breath as my thoughts pierced reality's facade. Opal's consciousness intertwined with mine, vibrating in perfect unison. At that mont, I realized that besides my grandfather, Opal was the only being I genuinely cherished.
What was compelling to do this?
The scent of Cedar needles perated my senses, infusing everything with a feeling of purity and freshness. It stirred a well of emotions within , eliciting tears, yet also endowing my hands with vigor.
My grandfather, during our fencing lessons, used to make hold my stance for minutes, anticipating the flicker of his blade that would provide an opening. I suspect he knew he was imparting more than just fencing skills.
When the pivotal mont arrived, I was prepared.
In that instant, it was as if I heard Vost-pa's voice whispering, "Now, Viktor."
"Now, Viktor."
That phrase seems too elaborate for the fleeting mont when I knew I had to act, but that's what I rember, and that's what spurred into action. It exploded.
There was no room for hesitation, no space for regret; doubts beca vague and remote. All energies had been funnelled towards this point in ti, and I was more alive than I ever was except at these defining monts. The rush, the liberation, the leap into the unknown, it was all there. And the best part, there was no longer a need to doubt. If destruction was my fate, it was now too late to avert it. All that I had conserved and withheld gushed out. I felt my energy drain as if a stopper had been removed. It poured out, and in that mont, I was far too disoriented to know, or even to ponder if my timing had been precise. Death and madness, or victory. The mont was upon .
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