The moment Galandir began singing, the crowd went completely quiet, surprised by what they heard. A voice so pure, melodious and beautiful that it contrasted with everything that the Underworld was. Like warm sunshine after a long winter. Morrigan couldn't understand the words he was singing as they were in the elven language. However, the emotion and the meaning behind them were clear.
It was a song about freedom and his yearning for it. His voice was filled with the deepest sadness, overtaking Morrigan's senses completely as she felt her very soul be touched by his performance. However, the sadness was not the only thing she could feel – there was also unyielding strength and determination.
The words Galandir had told her the other night only strengthened his song, and she felt a strong resolve form within herself. A strong desire to change things – to make them better. As this desire formed within her, Galandir's song came to a close, leaving complete silence behind.
He didn't bow or smile at the audience like the other contestants had. Instead he just left the stage without a word and went back to his seat. Nobody applauded. Nobody said anything. Only when Azrael spoke did the crowd wake from their trance.
"A-Alright, let's move on to our last contestant then – Princess Morrigan!"
It took a moment for Morrigan to realize that it was her turn to perform. She wanted to applaud Galandir for his song, but the boy had already disappeared from the stage. The audience turned their attention to her and cheered, encouraging her to take the stage. Morrigan put on her polite mask and got up, walking towards the stage with measured steps. Her heart began to beat fast as she once again found herself at the center of everyone's attention.
It's alright, just take a deep breath and relax. You'll do just fine.
As Morrigan stepped onto the stage, the gazes from the audience seemed to pierce into her like arrows. It felt like she could barely breathe under the pressure.
I can do this, just be calm.
"I-I'd like to request my supplies," she announced, trying to keep the shaky smile on her lips. Gunna emerged from behind the stage, first bringing out an easel with a canvas already set upon it and then bringing Morrigan all the paints, brushes, water and palette.
"You can do it, Lady Morrigan," the dwarf nanny whispered as she handed her supplies. There was an intrigued sort of muttering in the crowd.
"Is she going to paint?"
"She's a child. It's normal for children to enjoy painting."
"But shouldn't a princess show something a bit more impressive?"
Morrigan did her best to ignore the comments, but she felt herself be constrained by them. She began doubting whether it was a good idea to show her artistic talent for the whole Underworld to see. Demons weren't big enthusiasts for art, so perhaps it was a mistake.
She turned to look at the audience and saw her father sitting in front of everyone. His eyes were sparkling with excitement as he watched her every move. He wanted to see her paint, and this knowledge settled Morrigan's nervous heart. She looked towards the contestant podium and saw how Deziara had the same sort of excitement in her eyes.
It doesn't matter what all of these people think – as long as Father and Deziara and other people who are close to me support me, I can do this.
"And now I'd like to request for His Majesty to come and pose for me," she said with a smile looking her father straight in the eyes. Without a moment's hesitation, the King stood up and strode onto the stage.
"I shall oblige your request," he announced and snapped his fingers. A dark throne with red upholstery, the same one that usually sat in the throne room, appeared onto the stage and Alphegor sat down on it, looking as kingly as one ever could. The crowd had gone quiet and Morrigan couldn't tell whether it was a good kind of silence or judgemental kind of silence.
There's no need to worry about them. Just do what you do best, Morrigan.
The easel was positioned in a way that the audience could see everything that she was doing. Morrigan, however, had her eyes only on her father. She took a deep breath and then began.
First, I'll begin with the background. The black dragon ornament makes for a really nice, black background so I can just paint the whole canvas black.
She took a large brush, applied a generous amount of black paint on the palette and then painted the whole canvas black with large, generous strokes. Then, she mixed the black color on the palette with white, creating a dark gray color and using that as a base for the throne.
Alright, now to set up the basic form for father. He's wearing the deep purple robes that are customary to the Nachtstern Festival, so that will make it easier to give the whole painting a 'royal' feel.
She took purple color and mixed it with a bit of black, making it richer and then painted the basic contours of her father's body and outfit. Afterwards she used light gray for his skin and rich red for his hair.
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That is a good base, now it is time to start defining shadows.
"That is cute," she heard somebody whisper in the crowd.
"My children also like drawing. It seems that royal children are not so different from normal children."
"Shouldn't a princess be a bit better than normal children?"
But their words couldn't bother her anymore as Morrigan was already in her own world. She began by defining the background – adding more shadows to the dragon ornament, accentuating the scales and defining the shape of the throne, making it appear three-dimensional rather than just a plain shape.
Okay, this is shaping up nicely, now to the main part. I need to make sure that Father is painted in the best way possible.
She looked past the canvas, taking in every detail of her father's appearance. She measured how the colors of his robes appeared in the strong stage lights. She took in how the features of his face interacted with each other, making a single whole. She admired the strength that he exuded by merely sitting on a throne.
Her hands seemed to move on their own accord as she mixed one color after the next, matching the tones, creating deeper shadows and slowly bringing the painting to life. The fabric of her father's attire became more detailed, the face on the canvas reflected the same one that sat in front of her and the strands of hair gave volume and life-like beauty of the portrait.
The audience had gone completely quiet, watching Morrigan's every movement without daring to blink. They felt that if they would blink, they'd miss what the Princess was doing.
Now it's time for the best part – lights!
Morrigan put a generous dollop of white paint on the palette and then began applying light to the various elements in the painting. First the scales for the ornament in the background, but not too much as to not bring too much attention to it. Then the almost metallic reflection of the throne, the shine of Alphegor's hair and finally the reflection in his eyes, that looked upon Morrigan as she painted.
Finally, Morrigan took the smallest brush and began applying the final touches to the painting – the darkest of shadows, the golden dragon motif of Alphegor's kimono. She defined his facial features even further and added the ridges on his horns. Once that was done, she gave the painting one last look and nodded with satisfaction.
"It is complete!" She announced and stepped aside to show her masterpiece to the audience. They stared at it in amazement, taking in the details she worked so hard on.
"I-It looks just like the king…"
"I can't believe that the little princess could create something like this."
"But would His Majesty accept it? He's rejected every single portrait that has been made for him before."
Wait… what?!
The last comment threw Morrigan off and she looked to her father for explanation. But before the King could get up to look at the painting, Azrael appeared on the stage.
"Demons, demonesses and guests, you've seen it first hand – the artistic talent that Princess Morrigan possesses. The question is – will it finally be the one portrait that our King accepts? We all know that no artist has ever been up to His Majesty's standards," Azrael said, and Morrigan felt cold sweat form on her forehead.
I've never heard of this! Father even asked me to paint him once so I couldn't even imagine that he would have rejected artists before. But he has always praised my paintings, so it'll be alright. Right?
Alphegor got up from the throne and strode towards the painting, his gaze stern. She almost began feeling nauseous but then noticed a small smile appear on his lips. As he finally looked upon the painting, the smile only grew wider and wider turning into the same fatherly smile she was so familiar with.
"Those previous artists clearly had no idea what they were doing. This is what a portrait should look like," the King announced, and the crowd went completely wild, cheering, applauding and hollering at the top of their lungs.
"You heard it from the demon's mouth himself, folks! The King has accepted the Princess's painting!" Azrael cheered as well, and everyone began chanting Morrigan's name. The sudden positive change made her flush from embarrassment.
"Thank you…" she muttered and after a quick curtsy, returned back to the contestants podium. Deziara was already expecting her, her eyes brimming with excitement.
"Morri, when did you get this good? I knew you could paint well, but this is something else entirely!"
"I practiced drawing Father a lot. In the evenings when he'd work, I'd sketch him and then try to paint that the next day," Morrigan explained. Creating a painting so quickly was only possible once you already knew exactly what you were painting. If she had painted somebody besides her father, then the result would be vastly different.
"That practice clearly paid off. That's the best painting I've seen in a long while," Deziara said and gave Morrigan a quick side hug.
"Alright, settle down everyone. All of our participants have shown us their talents so now it is time for us, or rather the judges, to determine the winner!" Azrael announced, taking the center stage.
Everyone turned their gazes towards the judges, Alphegor having rejoined them. Although the King's gaze was still glued to the portrait that stood in the center of the stage. Morrigan wondered whether she should have taken it with her when she left the stage, but it was too late to do that now.
"To determine the winner, we're going to do something simple – a vote. Each judge will vote for their favorite performance and the one who gets the most votes wins the Competition earning themselves a boon from the King, the Burmese Ruby, and a nice stack of gold," Azrael explained, then turned towards the judges. "Now, let's begin with our delegation representatives.
"I vote for Larissa," announced the vampire diplomat.
"Princess Deziara," said the duergar diplomat, although it clearly pained him that their champion hadn't made it to the last task.
"Princess Morrigan," said the drow representative and Morrigan's heart fluttered with excitement at the mention of her name.
"Princess Morrigan," the deep gnome diplomat agreed. Apparently, they were too embarrassed to support the performance of their champion.
"Lionell," the infernal representative said curtly, and it took a while for Morrigan to realize that he was talking about the infernal champion as she had never pinned down his name.
"Wonderful answer from our wonderful judges, but before we go any further, I'm afraid we're going to have to take a little break. We've been enjoying the show for a while now and I'm sure my dearest audience could use a break. We'll resume our vote after a twenty-minute break."
Everyone groaned in disappointment, but it was undeniable that the competition had gone on for quite a while. Begrudgingly Morrigan, Deziara and other participants got up from their seats, and went to get some refreshments.