Dancing Lights licked at the air, ethereal tongues of illumination without heat that flickered cool toned colors across the pool of mirror-still water. The light was enough to draw attention from the far corners of Edonil's central cavern, but gentle on the sensitive eyes of its inhabitants. Behind his bar, the host directed several nearby slaves to arrange a series curved, metal dishes at the flanks of the stage while a veiled figure stood in the middle.

The hum of a moment soon to approach quivered, tension and anticipation in the air as the stage hands were a flurry of activity around this calm, central point until, there was nothing left to do; every preparation had been made, the stage was set. A slave crouched beside each dish, eyes lowered nervously as they steadied their breath, each finding a rhythm in compliment each the other while they waited. There was no need for question, to watch for their cues - they knew their parts.

It began then, with speed and unison. The figure who had stood so patiently under her heavy cloak of white dripping in a myriad layers moved an arm across and seized her cowl as she spun in place; in that motion, it tore from her shoulders and spiraled to the ground, Faerie Fire sparking across lines that spanned above the pool, a glittering ceiling of luminescent points that flares as the first vocalizations shivered the air; the woman revealed thrust a hand into the air above her, fingers clutching and drawing back down before her emberous glare. Azadais' words struck through the Weave as vibration stirred a spider's web, spreading through the city, amplified and turned back out on the curve of the metal dishes.

"Usstan ssinssrin dos ulu ssinssrigg uns'aa..." The verse began, slaves accompanying in time with their instruments of craft or voice, spreading the music in aggressive waves, "Saph Usstan tlun natha sseren z'har."

"Tlu talintha d'uns'aa, xundus vel'bol dos saph. Ji jaluk, gotfrer bauth l'tresk'ri p'wal ol zhah aluin ulu tlu uns'aa lu'dos maristo. Usstan ssinssrin ulu morfeth dosst ann whol ol, t'yin Usstan tlun aluin ulu morfeth dos mechrola dosst vhaisse."

Azadais whirled, her single braid lashing as a whip through the air, her foot coming down practiced grace and force as she came to face the bar; a cue received and acted upon in that instant as she drew a deep. As the lyrics began again, riding the instrumental rise, a massive scroll was drawn and unfurled to dominate the back wall. There, in expertly painted detail, right down to the defiant and lovely smirk was the Ul'Linthar of Ultrinnan, the Blood Minstrel himself.




"Ssinssrin dos ulu morfeth uns'aa satiir saph Usstan tlun l'er'griff jalil wun l'tresk'ri;

Saph Usstan tlun l'er'griff uss nindel dos orn rin'ov ssinssrigg;

Saph Usstan tlun l'er'griff uss vel'uss zhaun dosst xukuth,"

Her fist knotted over her chest, over her heart as she sung, sharp breath inhaled in rhythm,

"Saph Usstan tlun l'er'griff uss nindel zhah wun quarth!

P'wal Usstan tlun l'er'griff uss vel'uss kampi'une

Lu'oh ulu morfeth dos satiir saph natha jaluk, xa!

Ssinssrin dos ulu morfeth uns'aa satiir saph Usstan tlun l'er'griff jalil wun l'tresk'ri;

Saph Usstan tlun l'er'griff uss vel'uss zhaun dosst xukuth."

Azadais moved with the motion of the sound, each gesture an emphatic for the words, a sensual, kinetic expression that with every writhe and twist of her coal body rekindled the cinders into fire again, but not one slave dared to look up from their appointed role, even when her fingers dragged along the length of her torso from shoulders to hips, a somatic component to the verbal description.

"Ssinssrin dos ulu plynn ol saph natha olplyn wun l'isto;

Mir uns'aa saph natha orl'nak, morfeth uns'aa satiir ditronw;

Usstan orn tesso dos jal ussta szeoussen nindel Usstan tlun serin, dos shlu'ta doer wu'suul;

Lu'vel'drav dos sultha, dos ph'naut lagvarguth, tlu ussta kul'gobuss whol l'isto."

"Ssinssrin dos ulu morfeth uns'aa satiir saph Usstan tlun l'er'griff jalil wun l'tresk'ri;

Saph Usstan tlun l'er'griff uss nindel dos orn rin'ov ssinssrigg;

Saph Usstan tlun l'er'griff uss vel'uss zhaun dosst xukuth;

Saph Usstan tlun l'er'griff uss nindel zhah wun quarth;

P'wal Usstan tlun l'er'griff uss vel'uss kampi'une;

Saph Usstan tlun l'er'griff uss vel'uss zhaun dosst xukuth."

"Plynn uns'aa whol natha z'har, z'har;

Gi lerg, plynn uns'aa obok, obok;
Ori'gato uns'aa morfeth dos ust, ust;
Gi, morfeth ol vaen jal isto, isto."

Sweat glistened in the arcane glow of the Dancing Lights as she snapped and rolled her body, fervor that carried as if contagious through the onlookers who had gathered, too stunned to take any action as the last refrain brought the intensity to its peak.

"Ssinssrin dos ulu morfeth uns'aa satiir saph Usstan tlun l'er'griff jalil wun l'tresk'ri;

Saph Usstan tlun l'er'griff uss nindel dos orn rin'ov ssinssrigg;

Saph Usstan tlun l'er'griff uss vel'uss zhaun dosst xukuth;

Saph Usstan tlun l'er'griff uss nindel zhah wun quarth;

P'wal Usstan tlun l'er'griff uss vel'uss kampi'une lu'oh ulu morfeth dos satiir saph natha jaluk!"

A flicker and flare, and the illumination fizzled in time with the end of the song, light cooling on the panting form.

. . .

Happy April 1st!

► Accompanying music.
► Alternate version.