If his opponent was sizing him up, Endymion hadn't noticed; his own gaze was meandering mindlessly about the room, twirling his wand in hand with relaxed wrist motions. Not that the other fellow wasn't imposing – he was perhaps the most restrained, formal looking man Dymion had ever seen – but needless worry had never done him any good.

So there was an incoming lash of light and a matter of seconds before the hot snaking light made contact; hoping for the best, Endymion threw out a knot-tying charm, hoping to twist up the light instead into a useless (but very neat) bow before it reached him.

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