Portrait of the Moon Mother

Deep in the Havelyard Art Museum, tucked carelessly away in between a display of Medieval miniatures, lies The Portrait of the Mother Moon. You almost overlook it; its initial appearance is more than overshadowed by its more grandiose neighbors. But maybe that’s the magic of this place, more than anything. The portrait hasn’t chosen to catch the eye of an onlooker in perhaps over a century. You should feel honored by this gift.
The miniature’s gold casing is egg-shaped and no bigger than the palm of your hand. If you picked it up, you would notice it’s curiously warm to the touch. A calmness spreads through you; all the stress of your exams and the looming research deadlines melt away. The portrait in your hand calls you to open it.
Its once intricate floral frame carvings have all but been worn away with age, but still, you can tell that at one time, this would have been a beautifully detailed piece. Your thumb catches on the carving between the two hinges, a name in cuneiform – if all of those lessons in ancient Sumerian are serving you well – the name Allara.
Gently, you open the piece to view the portrait inside - a woman with waves of golden hair that cover all but the cupid’s bow of a mysterious smile and drape over her nude frame as if she was the original inspiration for a Botticelli masterpiece. She’s beautiful in a way that you feel more than see. She’s set on a stormy seaside cliff with the full moon looming large right behind her. The gouache of the painting has neither darkened nor cracked. It is as if the ancient painting has not aged a day from whence it was painted. You can see every minuscule detail, as if it was painted with a brush only a few horsehairs thick.
You are almost transported to this place too, just looking at the portrait inside, so much so that you swear you can taste the stormy sea air. You can hear the woman singing to you, a beautiful haunting melody, in a language older than even you have studied. It comes to you then, who this woman, Allara, must be – the siren wife of the first Angel of Light.
You can’t tell how long you’ve spent listening to the phantom song trapped in this ancient portrait, but it calls to you in a way that nothing else has before. You must find this cliff. You must find this language. You must find the spell woven in this song.
You shut the portrait, careful of the delicate gold clasp that caught on the lock when you opened it. 
Now, you know where to look.

Magical Classification

Enchanting Magic

Item type

Art

Creation Date

38 BC

Current Location

Havelyard Art Museum

Weight

strangely heavy

Dimensions

fits in the palm of one's hand