Donning Crown and Armor

As I walked I felt The Bardic Armor form in a unique way. 

The Council of Nine hugged around the skin of my brow, tightly like the silver in my crown.

The Crew of Seven followed suit just within, at the threshold where the brain meets the skull, in tight formation and matching spin, completing the ororide web.

Following them, The 5 Wood danced more than sailed within, with open ocean to navigate, first completing the clockwork, and then emerging as gold, top and center at the crown of my head.

In the moment it was more like three spinning rings at these distances, but the segments of the crown finally make sense, so their voyages now narratively match to fit.

I tried to unfurl the cloak of burnt orange and stars to match, but found their emergence blocked. Instead The Armor of Faith took form atop my Bardic Armor- an analogy most apt for the consciousness separation found by skin- and I realized that the war was still on, and now, more than ever, underway. The crown morphed to match the moment- for the first time might I add- into a helmet fitted for battle. Now I can see, better than before, the sanctuary that God has spent 7 years preparing for my return, even more secret and secure than it is humble. May these final days move like the breeze: where they may, as quickly as needed, and cooling me in my stride.

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