Full dark had long since fallen over the city of Rhy?din when he finally appeared in the middle of the spacious living room on the uppermost floor of the Tower of Mysteries. Leaving the lights off, he maneuvered his way around the plush leather couch and several walnut stained, oak rocking chairs to the door to his bedroom. He continued through the open door and over to the walk-in where he began the slow process of getting changed. He could have used his magic to do the task for him but he rather enjoyed doing the simpler tasks in his life the old fashioned way. Off came the Armani jacket, laid carefully over the back of one of the ornate clothing racks. Next was the silk shirt which was draped over the back of another walnut stained, oak rocking chair. Finally came the boots and socks, which were dropped next to the rocking chair, and the suit pants, which were folded properly and laid just as carefully as the jacket over the clothing rack. Reaching into the closet he removed a pair of black, silk pants which were fitted at the waist and ankles. Pulling them on quickly, he prowled back into the bedroom and out into the living room once more.

Upon reaching the open space in the center of the living room he quickly began a short stretching routine that would limber up tense muscles for the exercise ahead. As he finished stretching music rose up from all around him, the speakers to the elaborate stereo system actually being the walls themselves, it sounded just like he was in a concert hall. The volume had been left at a level that would deafen almost any ear and he rather liked it that way. He began to move with the pounding beat, his stances flowing so fluidly from one to the next that it looked like he was dancing with an unseen partner. His eyes had been closed since the music started and his body moved with a grace born of hundreds of years of practice. He moved through several of the katas before he finally came to a halt as the song faded away completely. Taking a deep, cleansing breath he spun on his heel and walked out of the living room and back into the bedroom and his waiting bed. Quietly shedding the last of his clothing he slipped between the black satin sheets and settled down for the night.

He hadn?t been asleep for long when the dream started. It was the masquerade ball from earlier in the night only he seemed to be the only one without a mask settled firmly on his face. The scene shifted slightly and he was near the bar, with a glass of his favorite scotch in hand, talking to a rather attractive redhead that couldn?t get enough of his eyes. A bit of witty banter was tossed back and forth until he lost the drink and grasped her hands, pulling her willingly onto the dance floor and into a waltz that was popular in his home dimension. They moved through the steps in time with the music and he begun to spin her ?round and ?round and around again, but when she came back against his chest the face had changed so suddenly at first that he hadn?t noticed it. When he finally noticed who he was dancing with he gave a small start and stared with an open mouth at Mysti Drake.

?This can?t be happening? he thought to himself, and indeed it wasn?t. Normally the man could tell when he was dreaming but there was something so real about what was happening that he, as of yet, could not discern fact from fantasy. He continued on through the second set of steps, twirling the woman he had found thanks to the Brotherhood, through a more intricate pattern around the floor; his grip tightening around her body to pull her closer. Again the steps returned to the spinning and thrice around she went, but when he pulled the woman back into his arms the face had changed again. His wife Shara was staring up at him, a smile on her face.

The thought that something wasn?t right passed through his mind for the briefest of moments before it was washed away in the euphoria of the dance as he moved his wife through the third set of steps to this ancient waltz. She matched him step for step just like she did when they were married, for the reality of the situation was that they were no longer together; that and the fact that he was the cause of it never crossing his mind. Again the steps led to her being spun around again, and again, and again still until she was back in his arms and a pair of half-elven eyes was staring deep into his. His breath caught in his chest as he uttered the name of a third woman he had lost oh so long ago. ?Lydia???

A broader smile spread across his face as he spoke to her. ?Why Lydia Amon, you dance divinely.? She was never certain of her skills in this area, he seemed to recall, yet as he guided her through the fourth set of steps to the dance he could not understand why. She moved in his arms like she?d been there all along and at one point she even leaned in for a gentle kiss; that was when he became suspicious. To his memory, Lydia was never given to public displays of affection and this one startled him enough to cause the dream to quickly shift to keep it coherent. That was when his unconscious mind made its mistake. As he spun the woman in his arms in the three spirals the face and body suddenly changed to a woman he had never seen before that night.

Wyheree was in his arms in her strapless, midnight blue dress. His eyes, shimmering sapphire flames, stared down into her bright, silver eyes in complete astonishment, but that didn?t keep him from holding her closest of all. With barely an inch between them he spun her carefully, and quite skillfully, through the last part of the dance and deep inside him the truth of the night was finally set free. They had never danced together, no matter how much he wished it were so, and he had never gotten closer than ten feet to her. He now knew that everything had just been a dream, a fabrication of his over active imagination.

Indeed he had flirted with Wyheree that night, in a rather school boy fashion that he was slightly ashamed to admit to himself. They had stolen glances at one another, again and again, the entire time she had been there, but he could never seem to find the right moment to go to her and ask her for a dance. Yes, he was the man in the golden half-mask, the mask that he had left on the bar and could still be there for all he knew. That was when he woke up, covered in a slick, sweaty sheen, the satin sheet wrapped tightly around his legs and barely covering him to the waist. The only thing filling his mind as he stared out into the dark was the face of the beautiful woman with the silver eyes and pale skin. The last person he thought about was Wyheree.