Basil did not age while studying in the vaults of the Black Library. Terran Standard days passed one after another with Terran days rolling into Terran months and Terran months rolling into Terran years as he studied how to manipulate the Warp and battle against Chaos under the instruction of Mistress Ilronanna. But something Basil sought eluded him during all that time.

Finally, the opportunity he had been waiting for arrived.

Basil stared at Siân as he followed in her footsteps. Stared at the slight swaying of her hips tightly wrapped in golden pants, swaying countered by the long swinging braid of her golden hair. She spun turned round to face him and walked backward down the dark corridor. "Do you remember the steps?" she asked.

Basil nodded.

"Do you think you can perform them to a beat that changes?" Excitement was evident in her voice.

"I guess so," Basil answered awkwardly.

A smile lit on Siân's face in response to his words. "Well, I believe you can," she added. "The Black Council asked me to help teach you that there is more to life than merely existing to fulfill your duty and tonight I intend to do that."

Oblivious to the fact they were approaching a nimbus of what appeared to be starlight at the end of the tunnel, Basil stared at her emerald eyes as she led him onward, unsure as how to handle his churning thoughts. Stared at her long, pale arms exposed by her sleeveless black top. A top which dipped low, partly exposing her cleavage. They entered the soft white light as the corridor opened wide into a great chamber.

Siân turned back around and spread her arms wide, looking over her shoulder at him. She gestured to the great chamber lit by starlight that emanated from a thousand points on the ceiling high above. A chamber filled with Aeldari. "Welcome," she said. "Welcome, to the Masque of the Horned Serpent."

A broad, white smile filled her face.

The thoughts which churned through Basil's head coalesced around what Siân had told him leading up to that moment. A masque was a collection of Harlequins whose performances retold, through song and dance, the ancient stories of the Aeldari. The performers before him were known as The Masque of the Horned Serpent and had taken their name from one of the most ancient monikers the Aeldari had used for Dromlach, the Cosmic Serpent.

Basil's eyes darted about the assembled guests as well as the troupers of the Masque. Most of the Aeldari were dressed in the colours of the Masque, various garbs of gold and black like Siân, but many others wore silver and black, the colours of the cosmos itself. The Harlequins of the Masque were all readily apparent, dressed, not only in the colours of their troupe, but in outfits designed to stand out from afar. There were many high collars and tall hats, long gowns and cloaks which flowed in their wearer's wake without ever touching the floor, long hair teased or braided into various buns and shapes atop their heads. Many members of the Masque held various musical instruments he recognized while many others held ones he did not. Basil remembered his studies about the Harlequins being deadly combatants. Perhaps they are not instruments at all, he mused. Perhaps they are weapons. Maybe even both. His eyes continued to dart about the chamber. The young boy who had lived his life wrapped within the tight constraints of the Inquisition had never seen such sights.

"Come," Siân said as she grabbed his arm and began pulling him to the middle of the chamber.

Basil readily followed her and noticed that the entire congregation had all begun moving in concert, moving to where he assumed their assigned points were. And they were in matched pairs, like he and Siân, only he was not wearing the proper colors. He wore brown and black instead. A thought crossed his mind. I will stand out like a sore thumb dressed like this. Basil was amused by his thought and barely stifled an audible laugh. I will stand out regardless of the attire I wear tonight. Glancing around, he saw that the troupers with percussion and woodwind instruments had moved into the front.

Most of the myths regarding the Cosmic Serpent revolve around the idea of a Master and an Apprentice, spoke Siân's voice into Basil's mind in High Gothic, trying to make him feel more comfortable. Tonight, allow me to be your Mistress and lead you in the steps to this Dance.

Her chosen words did not have the desired effect. Unsure how to process her words, nervousness, and even a little fear, crept into Basil's mind. He simply nodded and, as if in response, the starlight dimmed.

High pitched sounds emanating from a woodwind soared above the chamber, rapidly changing from note to note, but no one moved. A 'bump' came from Siân in his mind and they both stepped forward, side by side, in perfect sync with each other and the first beat. A second 'bump' as he stepped forward, already in sync with Siân and the beat from the percussion section. And in sync with the entire congregation as they stepped too.

And the beat picked up.

Right step and left, side to side, and another step, all in sync with each other- Basil with Siân, the other matched pairs with each other, and all with the beat as they moved across the black floor. At that point, Basil noticed that each pair was not merely dancing with each other, but also with the pair in front of it and the pair behind it. All the pairs were connected, strung across the floor like two intertwined snakes.

The beat slowed to nearly a stop.

Basil bumped into Siân, but she gracefully slid to a step away from him as if it never happened. I'm sorry, Basil thought as he tried to send his apology to Siân but the beat picked back up. And again, he bumped into her. Frustrated by his failings, Basil concentrated harder, following the steps she had taught him. Their paths crossed, and again he was slightly off as her shoulders rubbed his chest and her hips rubbed past his. At that point Basil realized he was not missing his steps and the touches that he shared with Siân were not accidents. Basil tried to focus and calm himself while continuing the Dance but Siân's hand, ever so slightly rubbed along his shoulder and his gaze followed along the slender length of her pale arm up to her eyes. Twin orbs of emerald with two narrow slits for pupils.

The gaze of a serpent.

Basil felt momentary shock but was caught in the Dance he had surrendered himself to, under the control of his Mistress, and could not stop. He did not care. The beat continually changed, alternating fast and slow, while the many woodwinds carried an eerie sound above the chamber. And he and Siân moved with the music, turning and spinning together as they stepped. Sometimes bumping into one another and sometimes gently rubbing their forms together for a split second. Basil's gaze never left her eyes.

The beat stopped and darkness filled the chamber.

Everyone and everything around Basil had stopped too but he did not notice. Siân's arms were around his neck with her face nearly touching his. Basil breathed heavily and could feel her warm damp breath on his lips.

Bright light, like a sun, filled the chamber.

His face almost touching hers, Basil stared into Siân's emerald eyes, but the serpentine slits for pupils were no longer there. Her eyes darted behind Basil for an instant and then her arms dropped from his neck and she stepped back with a wide smile on her face.

"That was fun, wasn't it?" she asked. Basil tried to nod but couldn't. "Perhaps you will be more comfortable the next time we dance." A far off, wild, look came into her eyes and she laughed. "I can only imagine how flummoxed you would be if we had danced one of the forms into which this Dance degenerated before the Fall. It simulated nothing less than a swarm of snakes in a mating ball." She laughed and her eyes again darted past Basil.

He turned around, for the first time noticing that the crowd and troupers were meandering about, and saw Mistress Ilronanna striding straight toward Siân and him.

"See the trouper in the gold coat and gold boots with the tall gold hat?" Ilronanna snapped at Basil as she pointed to a trouper off to the side who was looking at the trio. "You need to speak with him. He has asked that you join in this evening's performance." Basil just stared at her. "Go! Do not make me tell you again, my Apprentice."

Without another word, Basil turned and walked away toward the trouper.

(break insert as a string of asterisks is erased by the software)

"That Dance was the only performance I've taught him," Siân worriedly argued. "He learned it quickly but I don't think he really understood what was happening. I don't know how he can do one of the Mythic Cycle performances without practice."

Ilronanna watched Basil walk away. "His performance capability is not your concern. You are growing too close to him." The ancient Aeldari turned back to Siân and stared into her eyes as if reconsidering her statement. "I steered him toward the steps of this performance without him even realizing I did so. He will do fine."

Siân stared at Mistress Ilronanna for a long moment without speaking. "Which performance will the Masque perform tonight?" she finally asked. "What part will young Basil play?"

As those last words left her mouth, the entire chamber became deathly quiet. Siân's and Ilronanna's gazes followed those of the entire crowd and shifted to a new figure who suddenly appeared as its holo-field disengaged. The figure was tall and lean, and wrapped in a great black coat. One leg of its pants was a motley of alternating black and gold diamonds, the ancient lozenge pattern symbol of Cegorach, and its face was hidden behind a white daemonic masque with two great horns. A single thought sprang into Siân's mind as she stared at the figure.

A Solitaire.