It wasn't until midnight that Altair's brush paused following the echos of a knock at his door. When he rose in a vale of discontent, he was reminded of his invitation and sighed, opening the door to Aurora's smiling face.
"Master," She bowed, noting his slight frown. "It would seem I've interrupted you."
"My fault," Altair remarked, unwilling to blame his servant for his lapse in judgment. This, too, was a teachable moment, he thought. " I should have given you the combination to my door. Come on in."
Aurora eyed the incomplete abstract piece with a sense of wonder, for she felt the madness washing through the flowing waters like a curling of extinction and the masked figure that stood above it all, free by only the winds dancing across her mask.
"That is… bewitching." she was able to say before Altair sent the canvas into his Draupnir, somewhat embarrassed. "Master, did you draw that? You're an artist?"
