...The minstrel's troupe had performed in a dozen city squares before the commission arrived, but this one mattered in a way others didn't. A merchant prince of Waterdeep, impressed by their performance of the Siege of Neverwinter, had requested custom costumes in harlequin black and white. The dyer they sought out worked from a shop tucked behind the theater district, surrounded by performers seeking costumes that would read true under magical light.

The first performance in the new garb began at midnight in the merchant's private hall, a gathering of the wealthiest patrons in the city. As the lights dimmed, the performers moved onto the stage, their black-and-white costumes creating patterns of pure contrast that seemed to shift and move independently of the actors themselves. In the darkness punctuated by casting light, the whites seemed to float, while the blacks created absolute voids. A noble whispered to her companion that it was like watching shadow and starlight dance. By the end of the evening, the troupe had been offered permanent positions entertaining the merchant's household and invited to tour the estates of three other major families. The costumes had done more than clothe the performers; they'd transformed them into living art. The dyer, standing at the back of the hall and watching the performance, understood what most people never learned: that true skill in coloring wasn't about abundance of hue. It was about knowing which contrasts could carry a viewer's eye where you wanted it to go, and letting the space between colors speak as loudly as the colors themselves...