Isidor has been waiting on the periphery for Jim to be free. There are quite a few people seeking out the newlyweds to congratulate them, and as much as Isidor has no qualms about asserting her presence, she'd rather catch Jim alone if there was an opportunity. Besides, it gives her a chance to observe the guests and keep an eye on the many potential security issues.

That said, she's made she she's waiting with a drink in hand. It's been a tough few months and she needs the excuse to relax. She's working hard on loosening up tonight, but she's still eager to keep her personal space clear. Unlike her sister-in-law, she's chosen to rely on magic to keep her warm since, in traditional Durant fashion, her dress is based on style over practicality. On her world, flaunting your ability to combat pesky practical issues with subtle magical solutions is the aim of the game. Warding off the autumn bite is a minor inconvenience all things considered. Warding off anyone who might try to scavenge the heat around her if a far more worrying issue.

Or, even worse, staying away from a mage seeking you out. Isidor spies Felix, but she can't well snub him at his own wedding celebration. So she watches him and presses her lips into a thin line to stop herself from frowning. That said, she's not going to approach him either.

Really she's here for Jim. For all the things Felix put her and Harrowheart through, Jim has been her closest friend apart from Harrowheart. So, for Jim's sake, she inclines her head to the mage and bites her tongue instead of biting back at the compliment.

She manages to give a cool, "Congratulations."

Up to now she's done reasonably well at holding onto her neutral expression. Until Felix brings up something to entice her and she reflexively narrows her eyes in clear suspicion. She does her very best to sound cordial as she asks, "And what might that be?"

Isidor shifts her weight from one foot to the other, touching her free hand to her elbow to support the hand holding her drink. The suspicion may have relaxed from her features but her eyes remained narrow, thoughtful now.

"I wouldn't want to offend anyone. Gods or elementals."

A finger taps against her glass, but other than that she remains completely still while she stares Felix down. The silence stretches on entirely too long, but surely no one would dare could judge her for savouring the opportunity to make him squirm just a little bit.

"What would I need to do?" She asks eventually.

Conjuration magic. That would be a curious experience. In the end an entrancing experience is more valuable than gold to a Durant. That doesn't stop her from pushing for more. More than just a single experience. She wants to get everything she could possibly want. In this case, that's an answer.

"Why? This is your party. Your celebration. Your moment. Why do you want me to do this?"

She knows why. Or thinks she knows why. But the why she thinks she knows, the why he tells her, and the real why may all be different things. Better to know two of them than one.

Isidor raises an eyebrow. "Is that what you owe me?"

Gods help her, it would be so easy and so enjoyable to stand here needling him all evening. She taps her glass one more time and then downs it.

"Alright. Let's meet this elemental."

That wince is satisfying to see. She has to tilt her head up so that she can focus on the small motion instead of smirking. Setting her empty glass on a nearby table, she follows Felix and eyes the space set out for the bonfire.

This... was not what she came here to do. It doesn't leave her any time to prepare or plan or practice. That said, performing under pressure is her forte, and she'll be damned if she leaves anyone else to do it. Of all the people gathered here today Felix is the only one she might have considered appropriate. Even that was mostly due to not knowing the intricacies of his skill set. No, she doesn't trust anyone else to do this. This is what her bloodline was made for. To watch anyone else try would be remiss of her.

Ideas twist and turn as she runs through practices and plans, adapting them right up until the moment she introduces herself to Jaylah. Once her song choice has been prepared she returns to Felix.

"I'm ready."

Even a patron can't resist watching and sensing as closely as she can. The magic is foreign and familiar at once. She knows what she would do, and it would not look wholly different from Felix's actions. If anything the spectral wolf is the most unusual thing here. She wonders if Felix is always this careful in everything he does. Was he always this careful in the past?

All thoughts that leave her head when he returns to his starting point. They are replaced with a deeper curiosity, a trembling anticipation and a burning need to act, to do. The air heats up almost instantly and Isidor's eyes sting with the sudden change in temperature, but when she blinks the discomfort away she stares. Magdra Sakris, Felix says. She's beautiful.

Isidor inclines her head politely at the introduction and waits until Felix has retreated. It gives her time to make sense of the new feelings pressing against her senses. Once she does, she relaxes. Those are questions she can answer. She knows exactly who she is, and exactly what she wants.

"I am a dancer. And I am a fire mage. I intend to dance, and to light this bonfire." She tilts her head, fixing her gaze on where eyes should be, but feels as though she's staring into the elemental's soul. "Will you join me, Magdra Sakris?"

Hollow notes call through the air, bidding the audience to hush and settle. But for Isidor and the atronach it pulls a curtain around them. They face each other fully, a safe distance apart, the only two people in the multiverse. Isidor breathes, the atronach burns. Steady.

Isidor’s arms snap up suddenly as if only just realising ’There you are…’. Calm again, her hands slowly glide across her cheeks, fingers sliding into her hair until her joints bend, hands gripping her head in fear of ’regret’. She stares up to the sky, her shoulders heaving with slow, steady breaths. Opposite her the feminine figure spins gently and rolls her shoulders until their heads snap to face each other with ’a will’ and they mirror clenched fists being thrust beside their hips, one side then the other.

This is just an introduction. A tribute. A chance for Isidor to cast a spell on herself to keep her skin from burning. The mage knows this tune well enough that anticipation is already rising through her. This is it. This is where she must truly dance with fire.

The patron steps one foot outward and she looks across her shoulder to Magdra, jaw set but with pleading eyes that are only partially for show. Legs cross in strong strides towards the elemental and with an outstretched hand she lets the song beg for her, ’Take me away’. The pause that follows is a split second to the audience, but an eternity for her. And when Magdra takes her hand she lets her body and expression melt while she’s led into a spin that flares out the deep orange of her skirt as that simple command is drawn out. They pause together for a moment, but flames do not still themselves, and they’re acquainted now.

Isidor puts her hands together and faces the audience again, fire trailing from her hands so that it makes a circle as she lands into a crouch the moment the first clap sounds. A motion that highlights Magdra who lifts into the air and then dives into a somersault, effortlessly returning to hover behind Isidor. This time they don’t stop moving. Magdra’s fingers come together in elegant poses that switch with each snap of her hands while her hips and shoulders roll. She is a goddess and Isidor is her priestess whom she summons, twisting and rolling upwards to her feet, until she’s standing facing the audience again.

The singer cries and whispers simultaneously as Magdra trails a finger along one of Isidor’s arms that rises to meet her, leaving a line of fire behind. The mage jerks her hand closer, staring in unabashed awe, as if unaware of her other arm rising to Magdra’s finger drawing another flame. Only once the atronach is done does she look, wide eyed, at a feeling made real on her other arm. It lingers for one wonderful moment and then, on the last clap, vanishes.

No sooner has the fire on her skin been snuffed, then Isidor bends and twists and entwines her limbs with Magdra as the atronach loops her arms and moves her body around the mage: An elegant turning of shadow and flame. Burning hands cover Isidor’s face for a breath and when they pull away a jawless skull of fire hovers in front of her face, reminding her that she’s ’alive ‘til I’m dead’. Magdra comes to Isidor’s side where they face each other, the music rolling through their legs to their shoulders so that they’re almost touching until their ’pulse loses time’, and they cross each other rolling their shoulders, arms outstretched, as they lean back and then forward.

This time when Isidor offers her hand at the plea to ’take me away’, she pulls Magdra close and together they sway and swoon into a spin which ends with them standing side by side. The tune guiding them kicks into gear and sparks fire at their fingertips. Together they dance, hot on each other’s heels, spinning and twisting, casting trails of fire in the air that loop and wind through each other. The patterns are so intricately woven that if she were to pause for even a second, Isidor would be consumed by magic, the atronach’s and her own. They delight in changing the width of the flames and the direction of their motions. They revel in having found someone capable of matching their talent and their passion. They move faster and closer, around the bonfire and around each other. Hands and feet and fire spinning and whirling. Tighter and stronger until, finally, they turn to the centre of the circle.

It is not a whisper as the crescendo sounds and the carefully stacked bonfire explodes into flame. Their goal complete, Magdra and Isidor face each other once more, raising a hand each so that their palms touch. The magical mask dissipates from Isidor’s face while they circle each other, then spin and meet again to step in the other direction. Isidor twirls the elemental and together they spin. Calmer, more traditional motions as the music fades into a stop. Only once it has finished completely does Isidor step back and offer Magdra a low bow. It was an exceptional honour.

It was as intense for her to do as for others to watch. Isidor doesn't stop looking at the elemental until the moment she vanishes into the void. Even then she gives herself a moment to set her composure before turning back to Felix.

Things would be so much easier if Felix has remained aloof, or even enforced his villainy. Instead she reluctantly has to admit, "That was... a privilege to dance." A second later she manages, "Thank you."

Still, she can't quite resist asking, "Will she come back some day? Or will it be another elemental?"

Dancing with her uncle is intense and satisfying work, but it requires practice and patience. This was... altogether different. Far more intense, far more primal and raw and wonderful. Stepping away from it back into civilisation is unexpectedly difficult. She's still flushed as she schools her demeanour back into that of a woman of upper class values. It doesn't come quite as smoothly, but she tries anyway.

It's so distracting that she doesn't quite realise that someone is giving her wine until her mind is playing back the words just uttered to her. She looks around, but finding who it was is hopeless. So instead she turns back to smile at the person currently occupying her attention, sipping away at the remarkably good wine in her hands. Jim and Felix have good taste in wines, who knew?