Lustara’s fingers danced over the keys of the grand piano, the notes weaving a sultry melody that filled The Lux with an intoxicating warmth. His voice, smooth as silk and laced with a devilish charm, wrapped around the lyrics like a lover’s embrace, drawing every eye in the room to him. The patrons—dressed to impress and reveling in the opulent atmosphere—sipped their drinks, laughed softly, and swayed to the rhythm he created.
As the final note lingered in the air, Lustara let it hang for just a moment longer, savoring the power he held over the room. He then released the keys and stood, offering his audience a signature smirk—a mixture of arrogance and allure that left them wanting more. A ripple of applause followed him as he made his way to the bar, his steps as fluid and confident as the music he had just played.
Sliding onto the barstool with the grace of a cat, Lustara leaned in toward the bartender, his voice low and playful. Pour me a whiskey, will you, darling? Neat, of course. Let’s not waste time diluting the good stuff. His eyes, twinkling with mischief, scanned the room, taking in the vibrant energy he had ignited. You know, it’s almost too easy, isn’t it? A few notes, a few words, and they’re completely under my spell. But who am I to deny them a little pleasure?
The bartender, well-accustomed to Lustara’s theatrics, smiled and poured the whiskey, sliding it across the polished bar top. Lustara caught it with ease, raising the glass to his lips. He took a slow, deliberate sip, savoring the burn as it warmed him from the inside out. He sighed contentedly, his eyes still roaming over his kingdom of decadence and delight.
Ah, the sweet taste of success, he murmured, half to himself, half to the bartender. It never gets old. Now, let’s see how the night unfolds, shall we? There’s always something interesting around the corner at The Lux. With that, Lustara leaned back against the bar, drink in hand, ready to watch the night’s games play out, his smile promising both trouble and temptation.
Nyra's first mission outside of Tevinter had taken her to Antiva, a land shrouded in mystery and intrigue. The higher-ups had tasked her with gathering whatever secrets lingered in the city, though to Nyra, it felt more like a side job. Her true interest lay in the people themselves. She wanted to understand those who held sway, the ones whose names were whispered from one mouth to another, whether in reverence or disdain. It didn't matter if they were beloved or feared—Nyra was determined to know them all.
As she wandered the winding streets of Antiva City, her light grey eyes flickered with a sharp attentiveness, always on the lookout for anything that might pique her curiosity. The city buzzed with life, its pulse thrumming beneath her feet, but Nyra remained focused, searching for something—anything—that could spark her interest.
The sound of laughter echoed through the narrow streets, pulling her from her thoughts and halting her steps. Intrigued, she followed the cheerful noise, her gaze lingering on the exterior of a building that seemed more captivating than most. The structure had a certain charm, something that held her attention longer than usual. Tilting her head slightly, Nyra studied it, taking her time before deciding to step inside.
Once within, her grey eyes swept the interior, absorbing the unique atmosphere that permeated the space. The air felt thick, almost electric, raising the fine hairs on her skin. A subtle shiver ran down her spine as she softly licked her lips, savoring the strange sensation. Her fingers brushed against the walls as she moved deeper into the establishment, enjoying the texture beneath her touch.
Nyra made her way to the bar counter, choosing a spot strategically—near the side, where her back could rest against a corner, making it difficult for anyone to approach unnoticed. From this vantage point, she could easily survey the entire room. She sat down and caught the bartender's eye with a simple gesture, raising her hand just high enough to signal him. "A vodka, please," she ordered, her voice soft and yet steady. She opted for a lighter drink than usual, knowing it would be wise to keep her wits about her on this day.
As she waited, the low, rumbling voice inside her mind stirred, sharpening her senses. It wasn't often that it made itself known without reason, and Nyra knew better than to ignore it. Everything around her seemed to conspire to make her relax, to let her guard down and simply enjoy the moment. But Nyra was too seasoned for that, too cautious. The very air around her made her magic hum with life, an odd occurrence that left her feeling slightly on edge—just enough to be wary, her senses heightened, her mind alert.
When a man began speaking quietly nearby, Nyra's attention snapped to him. She observed him closely, her head tilting once more in that curious manner of hers. Watching him just long enough to satisfy her curiosity, yet not long enough, would become rude. Something about him—or perhaps the situation itself—kept her instincts on alert.
Lustara noticed the new arrival almost immediately, his gaze drifting over to where Nyra had taken up her position at the bar. He didn’t have to see her to sense the ripple in the atmosphere—the subtle shift that told him someone interesting had just walked in. His smile deepened, a hint of intrigue now coloring his expression.
He swirled the whiskey in his glass, his fingers playing lightly over the rim before he took another sip. The burn of the alcohol was almost comforting, grounding him in the moment as he allowed himself to savor the anticipation of a new encounter. Lustara had a particular talent for reading people, and this woman—poised, alert, and radiating an energy that teased at the edges of his senses—had already caught his attention.
Setting his glass down, he leaned forward slightly, his posture relaxed yet intent. With the practiced ease of someone who always got what they wanted, Lustara made his way over to Nyra, his movements fluid and graceful, as if he were gliding rather than walking. He approached her with the confidence of a man who knew exactly how to command a room, but there was something else in his demeanor—an unspoken promise of amusement, perhaps even danger.
As he reached her, Lustara let his gaze linger on her for a brief moment, taking in her every detail with the sharpness of a predator sizing up its prey. But instead of pouncing, he simply tilted his head in that charmingly devilish way of his and spoke, his voice a smooth, enticing purr.
You know, he began, his tone laced with curiosity, it’s not often I see someone like you here, sitting in the shadows as if you’re waiting for the night to unfold its secrets. He flashed a grin, one that was equal parts mischievous and inviting. And I do so love secrets. Care to share one with me, darling? Or perhaps you’d prefer a drink instead? On the house, of course.
Lustara leaned against the bar, his eyes never leaving hers, searching for that spark of recognition, that flicker of interest that told him he’d piqued her curiosity. He could feel the hum of magic in the air around her, something subtle but undeniably potent. It made him even more intrigued, wondering what lay beneath the surface of this seemingly calm exterior.
I’m Lustara, he continued, offering his name as if it were a secret itself. And you, my dear, seem like someone who’s far more interesting than the usual crowd that graces my little establishment. Tell me, what brings you to The Lux on this fine evening?
His tone was playful, but there was a depth to it that hinted at something more—a challenge, perhaps, or an invitation to a game that only they could play. Lustara wasn’t just looking for conversation; he was looking for someone who could match his wit, his charm, and his love for the thrill of the unknown. And something told him that Nyra just might be the one to provide it.
It was a well-known truth that knowledge equaled power. Yet, few truly grasped the depth of that power. They failed to understand that authority did not reside solely in titles or high positions. A lowly peasant armed with the right secrets could topple kings, if only they wielded those secrets with precision and timing. It was not about brute force or social rank but about knowing when and how to strike. Nyra had learned this lesson early in life, though the reasons she first sought out the secrets of others had long since faded from her memory. Perhaps it had been curiosity, or perhaps a sense of survival.
Whatever the reason, it had shaped her into the woman she was today
That same restless curiosity led Nyra to wander the streets that night, her sharp eyes scanning the dimly lit alleys and bustling squares for something—anything—to pique her interest. It didn't take long. The moment she stepped into the dimly lit building, a jolt of awareness ran through her body. The air was charged, alive with something she couldn't yet define. Her senses heightened; her skin prickled as if her very surroundings were brushing too close.
The voice stirred from deep within her mind, sluggish at first, grumbling to life like an ancient thing dragged from slumber. It whispered thoughts she wasn't sure were hers, a soundless murmur that felt almost like a breath against her ear. The sensation sent a ripple of unease and anticipation through her.
And then she saw him.
The man was tall, dark-haired, and composed in a way that set him apart from the others. He hadn't noticed her—at least, not yet—but she felt the weight of him in the room, a presence impossible to ignore. There was something about him, something she couldn't yet name, that tugged at her attention.
"Careful."
The word was soft, almost unnoticeable, but it brushed against her thoughts like a warning. That was all the voice offered, leaving her to navigate the rest on her own.
She felt the dark-haired man approach before he spoke, the air shifting subtly as his presence filled the space beside her. His voice, when it came, was low and smooth, sending a ripple of sensation through her. Slowly, she turned her head, her silver-grey eyes finding his. She let her gaze linger, dragging her attention over him as though savoring every detail.
"Hmm." Her voice was soft, her tone sweet and unassuming, though the faint curve of her lips hinted at something sharper. "And what makes you think I'm that kind of woman?"
Her words were light, but her eyes betrayed her—a gleam of wicked amusement that danced in their depths. She didn't answer his question directly, instead letting the moment stretch out, the silence heavy with unspoken meaning.
When she finally spoke his name, it rolled off her tongue like a secret. "Nice to meet you....,Lustara."
The name hung in the air between them, her tone deliberate, as though testing how it felt to say it aloud. Then, with a soft smile, she offered her own. "The name is Nymeria."
Though her focus remained entirely on him, she was acutely aware of the room around her. The clink of glasses, the shifting shadows, the quiet hum of conversation.
"You flatter me," she said after a beat, her voice light and teasing. The soft chuckle that followed was barely audible, a sound meant only for him. "Hmm…" She tilted her head slightly, her expression thoughtful. "Something about this place caught my attention tonight. Enough to draw me in out of curiosity."
She leaned back slightly, her posture relaxed, but the sharpness in her gaze remained. She wasn't about to let him steer the conversation. If he wanted to engage with her, he would have to work for it. Raising her glass, she flashed him a smile that was equal parts sweet and provocative.
"Thank you for the drink," she said, her tone edged with playful mischief. "I hope you're not expecting anything in return. As it is on the house, it's easy to guess that this place is yours then? Nicely done."
The silence that followed wasn't awkward but charged, the tension between them like a coiled spring. In the back of her mind, she felt the voice stir again, but it didn't speak this time. It didn't need to.
Nymeria already knew this was the beginning of something—and she couldn't wait to see how it would unfold.
