Campanella stood before the mirror having polished it to crystal perfection earlier in the day. He had half an hour to spare: not enough time to settle in with a good book and too early in the day to be trying the new red he'd purchased for his little collection. Instead he chose to focus on his arcane skills in the short gap between aspects of his life mundane. He found the juxtaposition sweet and the inherent lesson valuable: there was no separating the Supernal and the Mundane - the twin aspects of his life were One - a yin and a yang whose dance had informed the shape of his life from the moment he Awakened to True Revelation. He could not deny one part of himself over another, nor truly hide one part of himself from the other; even he managed it, his potential enemies would not see the subtle distinction.

So he stood before his highly polished mirror. And did not draw on the Supernal. For this exercise he did not need to.

Rotes were more than simply opening oneself to the Supernal and channelling its power. Rotes were gesture and movement; stance and stillness; whispered words and carefully articulated soundscapes. Without Supernal power behind them rotes were simply subtle katas.

And like a true martial artist, he applied himself to his katas with care and diligence. This was not vanity, spending half an hour staring at himself. This was work. He was checking his actions from different angles, ensuring that each movement, each subtle pose, each hushed syllable, was correct and proper according to the forms he had been taught.

After all, practice makes perfect.