Orikan the Diviner spotted the anomaly in the crowd immediately, and hated it.
As a powerful member of the Sautekh dynasty he was required to attend this event, to provide Imotekh the benefit of his wisdom as needed. But he was not required to join the foolish mummery of the ancient dance, so he didn't. Instead he stayed on the edges of the gathering, enjoying the rather pleasant music.
He felt it, though, when something completely out of time entered the dance. It was like a rock thrown into a still pool and Orikan's gaze picked out a certain Overlord, dancing with that idiot Zahndrekh. Orikan had no use for the courtly dances but he did know them, and quickly realized that this strange Overlord did NOT know them. He was faking it extremely well and no one would really care if Zahndrekh didn't, but Orikan could spot it.
That hardly mattered, though, compared to the disturbance in time. New and old, out of time, mashed together and dislocated. There were multiple time disturbances at work. A potent mixture of new and old that acted a bit like Solemnance, different time periods mashed into a tight space. But also something much greater, an echo of dislocation like the gong of a deep bell.
Normally, Orikan would wait for Imotekh's request to give him advice, but not this time. Dipping into a trance he found, to his annoyance, that the timeline was as difficult to read as he had anticipated. Actually, it was worse, with this particular Overlord acting like a heavy weight on the fabric of time but a much worse concentration in orbit? Yes, there were more like this, although not as profound. Something about the Overlord was particularly off, even compared to the others.
But this wasn't Solemnance and Orikan could tease out the threads of the future just enough. And what he found was urgent enough that he slid through the edges of the crowd, moving towards the throne. He arrived behind Imotekh and patiently waited for the Stormlord to recognize him. It wouldn't be long, Imotekh had very little patience.
"Yes?" Imotekh turned his head, regarding him. Orikan bowed deeply to his Phaeron.
"I have word of the future, Phaeron," he said before giving the benefit of his advice. "In this convocation, you will receive a strange offer that will tempt you to reject it out of hand. You must not do so. You must at least entertain it, or ruin will come upon the Sautekh." Imotekh tilted his head slightly, catching the oddity of his prediction.
"My ultimate decision does not matter, only that I allow this offer to take up my time?" Orikan flashed a glyph of agreement.
"Yes, although events will make your decision clear," Orikan said with assurance he didn't actually have. The stars were not right and the influence of time distortions made seeing the full path of the future very difficult. He probably still could have done it, but it would have required far more than a quick meditation. However, you didn't become an advisor to a Phaeron by explaining all that. It was part of the craft of the Chronomancer to remain mysterious.
Then there was a disruption in the dance and they both looked towards the dance floor at the unfamiliar sound of laughter. Orikan was astonished as he saw the foreign Overlord engage in beautiful, floating footwork as he twirled Zahndrekh around and then momentarily swept him off his feet. They came shockingly close, in a way that felt like a parody of the Time of Flesh, their hands entwined. Imotekh came to his feet, knowing that if he allowed it, this could absolutely go further.
"Zahndrekh, what are you doing?" he rumbled but Orikan knew the Stormlord well and knew he was not actually upset at all. The opposite, he was mildly amused by this disruption in what he felt was a contemptible display of petty vanity. The two Overlords separated and Zahndrekh turned to gaze up at his Phaeron.
"Just asking my companion to demonstrate the dances of his people, Phaeron! Can we perhaps do more? This place needs some livening up!" Zahndrekh said, immediately scandalizing half the court. The other half were just resigned to it. The Overlord by his side remained prudently silent. Orikan didn't recognize him, but that meant nothing, he didn't recognize well over half the nobles present.
"While that might be more enjoyable, you are disrupting the dance. Take your companion away to have some wine and he can demonstrate these dances in private," Imotekh said, humoring Zahndrekh's delusions. Orikan suspected the Stormlord was fond of this idiocy, and how it discomforted the other nobles, although Imotekh would never confirm or deny it. Zahndrekh bowed before taking the hand of the other Overlord and leading him away. Orikan was relieved to see him go.
While he would work around such things, disruptions in the time stream were not pleasant to be around.
Manric sent silent apologies to Phaeron Rahkaak as he was pulled off the dance floor, knowing he was going to be in for it later. He shouldn't have let Zahndrekh talk him into showing him some dance moves. But Manric loved to dance, he always had, and it felt wonderful finding someone else who really enjoyed it.
"Ah, that manner of dancing is so familiar but it's been so long since I had a partner. Alas that you're not a pretty lady," Zahndrekh definitely had a twinkle in his eye. Manric wasn't too surprised that necron dancing had once been different.
"It would take a lot of wine to make me that," Manric said and Zahndrekh laughed. Manric noted that Obyron had found them and was following, a silent shadow. "I am more than willing to dance but in return, can I ask a favor?" He dearly wanted this. Zahndrekh gave him a questioning look. "Could I have a very different sort of dance with Lord Obyron?" Manric almost felt like he was looking at a very fine steak, when he looked at Obyron. Something about him made him want to spar with him very, very badly.
(no one took weapons to the convocation, theoretically, so no one could see the aeldari spear sparkling with soul fire as it waited in a weapon's rack)
"I see nothing wrong with that, if my friend is willing," Zahndrekh said before giving Obyron a questioning look. The Lychguard just nodded and Manric wondered if he ever spoke.
"Excellent! Although not today, I don't have my practice spear with me at the moment." And he needed the custom practice spear, that mimicking the weight and reach of the aeldari spear. There were likely other practice spears available, but they would be similar to the Staff of Light which had quite a different feel. Fortunately, they did have quite a bit of time, the convocation had a hard and fast order of events and it would be nearly a month before Rahkaak could present her plea to the Stormlord.
What followed was, for Manric, a very pleasant time. Zahndrekh found them a private arena, likely meant for individual sparring matches, and they had their own private dance recital. Zahndrekh found ancient dances from the back of his mind and taught them to Manric, and he returned the favor with the popular dancing of Hope. He even demonstrated his limited knowledge of ballet, although he didn't try to teach that.
"Ah, such strange dances! But I see this is a passion of yours," Zahndrekh observed and Manric nodded as he dropped out of a ballet pose.
"If matters had been different, I think I would have been a dancer as a profession." Alas that it could not have been so. Manric did sometimes wistfully wonder what it might have been like, to lead a life that wasn't solely focused on killing other things.
"It is true, being born into a noble family can be quite a burden at times. I've never felt that way of course – I truly love my duties – but I've heard that lament before. Although, not for a very long time…" Zahndrekh seemed momentarily despondent and Manric wondered if, perhaps, reality was intruding in his odd, detached dream. Although.
"It's not just my family… you remember that Dynasty we rescued Ahmakeph from? My people were at war with them for nearly four thousand years," Manric said, reflecting on it. What an unfathomably long time to be constantly at war. It had distorted their entire society. "No matter what class I had been born in, there would have been no time for dancing." There were exceptions to the mandatory military service, but they were usually for health reasons or mechanical aptitudes too valuable to waste on the field. "But then, I also truly love my duties. I regret nothing." This was just a bit of wistful wonder for what could have been, not a serious wish. That made Zahndrekh brighten.
"That is good to hear. Would you like to join me for some wine?" Manric wished they actually could, that would have been a wonderful way to spend the night. Still, he was willing to play along.
Manric, the dance is over, return and attend to your Phaeron. A cool interstitial message reached him and Manric winced internally. He really was going to get raked over the coals for this.
"Ah, I must decline, my Phaeron is summoning me." He said with a small bow. Zahndrekh was disappointed, but nodded.
"Ah, the young lady Rahkaak, please give her my regards." Young lady? Manric really wondered exactly what time period Zhandrekh's mind was stuck in. Could he recall what Rahkaak had looked like in life? It boggled the mind.
Unfortunately, Phaeron Rahkaak was as not amused as he had anticipated.
"What were you thinking?" She demanded as soon as he returned to the quarters that had been assigned to them, part of a particular ziggurat that was devoted to foreign royalty. Manric tried to mutely apologize with his body language as he gave a very respectful bow.
"My apologies Phaeron, I know I was not supposed to dance but it would have been most unmannerly to refuse." Just from appearances, Manric knew that Zahndrekh was too highly placed for them to afford to offend. "I did go too far after that and I deeply apologize for my actions," Manric admitted. He shouldn't have let Zahndrekh talk him into that, but he wasn't going to blame the other Overlord, that had been entirely his fault. Phaeron Rahkaak made a buzzing sigh.
"Unfortunately, a true punishment for you would not be practical at the moment. I can't order you to spend a month with your family." ?! Manric almost flinched. She has been speaking too much with Reinhart. "What am I to do with you then, if you cannot follow a simple instruction?" That stung even more than the mention of his family because it was a completely just complaint.
"Phaeron, I swear on the honor of my Noble house that I will not embarrass you in the future," Manric said with a deep, supplicating bow. "If anyone asks me to take an action outside of your orders, I will refer them to you." That might be disappointing for Zahndrekh but he couldn't afford more of this. Although. "And perhaps I can spend time with Overlord Zahndrek and Lord Oberyn? They are surely valuable contacts in the Sautekh dynasty." That would be a good use of him, as it was nearly impossible for him to make mistakes with the cheerfully addled nemesor.
"And I am to reward you for your misdeeds?" Manric did the best he could to imitate Yantek and adopt a hangdog, apologetic posture. It was harder as a Necron but he did manage it and Rahkaak softened slightly. "Very well… you are correct that Zahndrekh is someone we cannot afford to offend, and could be a valuable contact within the Sautekh. But be circumspect." Manric bowed again, accepting the order. He would need to be very careful to adhere to it. What would Rahkaak do if he slipped up again? Likely banish him to the flagship, but Manric felt that he really couldn't afford that.
Manric had never really articulated it to himself, but he instinctively knew he was good at relating to others. Even in this alien circumstance, that was too precious a gift to waste.