As Zacnefear stepped forward and again showed the guards at the gate of Rilynt’tar his invitation, he gave thought to the presence he had felt watching him. It would have to be a powerful mage indeed to follow him to the mirror in his chamber. Yet the mage was wise enough to never completely enter the mirror, or else he would have trigged the powerful wards in the chamber.

Gliding silently across the compound he continued to think of this. "This human mage is not the one from the dark keep, nau, this one is much stronger,” he thought. He glided over the rail and dropped lightly to the balcony, then he glided down the hall past those enjoying the festivities.

As he entered the throne room he paused, his eyes flickered over the room. Spotting his Ilharess he glided through the sea of bodies and approached her. Bowing deeply his fingers flashed a code to her alerting her that he had news of great importance. Lightly caressing her dark dagger, the runes and gem suddenly glowed brilliantly; Arielana quickly probed his mind and extracted the information. The runes of the dagger only allowed her to do this, hence a safe means of communication. She thought a bit about this information and nodded to her faeruk. Taking his hand she led him to out onto the floor where they joined the dancers already there.

They moved gracefully as they writhed and swayed sensuously to the music, yet they contemplated the recent developments as they did. Zac's concentration to the subject was beginning to waiver as they continued to dance. Her beautiful form weaving to the soft strains of the music was enchanting him as always. He was trying to resist her charms, to concentrate on the mage that had dared to spy upon him. Yet she always found a way to bring out his desires, soon all he could think of was her.

Arielana smiled wickedly as she worked her magic on the faeruk once again, his attention to other matters was not what she wished at this time. This was a celebration, for now they would enjoy the festivities; there would be time for the other later. She kept his eyes locked with hers as she moved and turned with him through the complicated steps. Together they danced for hours, sometimes slow and sensuous, sometimes fast and wild, the mage completely under her spell. When they finally tired of dancing they moved off the floor to rejoin their host Ilharess Dark.

Mavralyn's eyes flew open at the strange noise. Looking toward the artist, she summoned him. He walked to her, knelt, bowed and offered the parchment. He remained motionless as she took it from his grasp.

A wicked smile formed as she let her eyes travel over it. The gold highlights of her robes seemed to sparkle strangely against their black depths in the portrait. He had, in fact, taken the exact image from her mind and placed it upon the silvery scroll. Yvyll was right, his talent was unique. He had depicted well the new Yathtallar, she thought.

"What is this?" demanded a curious Jasra Dark. She had seen the crowd's interest and heard the transfer of light to image. Mavralyn turned to her as she approached. Yvyll quickly bowed her head in respect; Beldrossin did not move.

The Ilharess looked to the parchment in Mavralyn's hands as Mav held it out to her. Jasra's face softened almost imperceptibly as she studied the form of her daughter clad in the gold and black of her new House.

Mavralyn handed the portrait to her Ilhar and glanced at Yvyll as her niece stepped forward and quickly explained to Jasra Dark what had occurred. The Ilharess gave an approving nod to Yvyll as she continued to study the portrait.

With a pleased smile on her face, Yvyll once again spoke. "Honored Grandmother, may I present the artist, Beldrossin," she said and pointed to the still bowed form.

"Vendui' Malla Ilharess d’Rilynt’tar," the form echoed. The Ilharess bade him to rise, her eyes still roaming the parchment she held.

A frown creased Jasra's brow as she studied the unique painting.

"It does not please thee, Mother?" Mavralyn asked. "I thought it quite extraordinary. That is exactly how I saw myself."

The Ilharess furrowed her brows further, "It is very nice, Mavralyn, but there is something... wrong."

Sensing a critical moment, Beldrossin spoke, "If I may, Malla Ilharess..." She nodded, and he continued. "What do you think it should look like?" He waited but a brief second and summoned the faerie lights again. This time they appeared upon the portrait in Jasra Dark's hand alone. They shimmered for a moment and disappeared. In their absence, Jasra smiled.

"Better," she uttered, "Much better," allowing the smile to broaden a bit. She handed the parchment back to her dalharil, "Now it is suitable to hang in House Rilynt’tar."

Yvyll leaned close to Mavralyn to see what had changed. In place of the gold and black that Mavralyn now wore were the red, gray and black she previously wore as Ust Dalharil d’Rilynt’tar^*1. Mavralyn sighed and shot Yvyll a very readable look.

Before either could comment Jasra signaled to the thin air, and Mavralyn and Yvyll's wine glasses, full yet again, appeared in front of them, offered by one of the invisible servants. Confirming her acceptance of the portrait with a toast to its beauty, Jasra Dark commanded that it be taken and hung in the House gallery so that all could view it.

*1.  First Daughter of Rilynt'tar.