The unseen pillars of power - Story short

This is something new we thought would be fun to try out - a short story that will complement the events of the proceeding patch.
It's goal is to provide a lot more context and exposition on an aspect(s) in the following patch, without requiring large exposition dumps in-game that might otherwise be awkward, or glossed over too much.
Keep in mind it's not at all necessary to read these, you can skip them entirely and it won't impact you, but it will be there to provide just that extra little bit of lore or character history.

Do tell us what you think ^-^

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The bristles of the brush splayed out over Tyra’s nails, leaving a dark and royal purple behind.

‘You’re going,’ she said, the brush moving to the next finger.

‘I don’t want to,’ Sabia snapped back. ‘I don’t care about dealing with a bunch of dusty, up-themselves aristocrats. I’d rather be at drill, with father.’

‘I know.’

‘Then why do I have to go?’

Tyra angled her hand a little bit, to catch the light from the sun more easily, and continued painting her nails. Slowly, the bristles pulled down, leaving the deep purple. Tyra dipped the brush back in the small pot, before sighing. 

‘Because you and your father have both had your way for far too many years now. You shouldn't be in the training grounds, you shouldn’t be anywhere near the barracks. You should be with me, learning and doing as I say.’

‘But-’

‘But nothing,’ Tyra said. Her voice was clear and loud, the broiling with the heavy tone of command. ‘You are coming tonight, you will follow either Lynn or me, and you will learn.’

Tyra closed her eyes and shook her head, despairing.

‘One day, I hope, you will understand. But until then, if I must force you to do this, then that is what I will do. Finish putting your makeup on, then we will leave.’

Sabia grunted in annoyance, stomping heavily off toward the other dressing table as Tyra finished the last few nails, and strapped her elegant shoes on. They cost more than a peasant made in a year. And she liked to make sure people knew that.

Tyra rested both her hands in her lap, and waited for her wayward daughter to return.

‘I can’t believe you’re making me go,’ Sabia said plainly as she entered the room again, bristling with frustration, adding under her breath, ‘what a waste of time.’

Her eyes darted over Sabia, and thought the makeup wasn’t done to a standard Tyra would have been pleased with on her own features, it was tolerable. The same was true of Sabia’s attire. Sighing silently, she stood and wrapped an arm around Sabia, and steered her forward. ‘I know you have fun with your swords and shields, your bows and arrows Sabia. But real power…’ Tyra said, her voice going down to a whisper. ‘That comes from something else. Watch tonight. Learn.’

Sabia kept her eyes down, glaring at her shoes and almost sulking like a petulant child.

---

‘Back straight. And a smile. This isn’t a party for me, and it’s not for you. You need to understand that, Sabia. This is work.’

Sabia nodded, putting on a false smile. Good enough, she thought. She’d much rather be in the training grounds with her fingers wrapped about the smooth hilt of a sword than here. Sabia looked over at her mother. 

By all meanings of the word, Tyra was breathtaking. Lustrous locks of hair that glimmered in the light of dusk framed her face, and the rest was done up in an elaborate bun that had taken most of the afternoon to prepare. A few ornate gold pieces kept the bun in place. Tyra’s makeup was impeccable, every single stroke of a brush, or tip of a pen had moved with precise intention. Full purple lips that promised everything, round eyes that looked thoughtful and kindly - a practiced trait for Tyra, of course - and framed by eyeshadow and the lightest touch on her eyelids.

The door swung open, and Sabia walked through the threshold into her mother’s world, Tyra following behind. Straight away, she felt out of place, and managed to sidle to the side as Tyra pushed past.

Tyra’s predatory eyes drunk in the sight, noting where every prominent family was, every person of interest. She noted that none of the royals had attended tonight. Disappointing, but not entirely unexpected. They didn’t attend all of her gatherings.

A few conversations stopped upon their entry, husbands glancing at Tyra with lust in their eyes, wives with jealousy and envy. Tyra inclined her head to the party, before softly walking over to one of the other noble families nearby. As her heels clicked on the expensive redwood floorboards, she saw a wealth of different guests. Rhaetian traders - with their valuable goods and large revenue stream, Tyra always appreciated their patronage. Nusian and Mendaharen nobles were there, too. She smiled. It’s not a real party without other members of the aristocracy present. 

Sabia rolled her eyes as sycophants rushed Tyra, a fawning crowd gathering immediately.

‘I didn’t think you’d come.’ 

The snarky statement brought Sabia’s attention back to herself, and she glanced around to see a smug-looking Lynn.  

‘And I didn’t think I’d see you not dressed like a slut. Being right all the time can get annoying.’

Lynn wrinkled her nose and pursed her lips, exhaling and giving a trill of fake laughter. ‘You’re so funny, sister. I see mother’s lessons are wasted on you. I’m not dressed like a slut. I’m dressed in armor.’

Sabia took a step back, and she looked up and down Lynn’s figure. She did her very best to make sure that it was painfully clear how dubious she found that, before settling on a long and drawn out, ‘...riiiiiiight.’

Rolling her eyes, Lynn sighed, and joined Sabia in leaning against the wall. ‘See Duke Hadryn over there? He’s cheating on his wife. He let it slip, distracted by these,’ she said, tapping at barely-covered breasts. Sabia followed the direction of Lynn’s finger, eyes landing on Duke Hadryn, a cup of wine in his hand. ‘Compared them favourably to his mistress. Thankfully, the Duchess was out of earshot. That little piece of information is stronger than a hundred of you with swords.’  

‘Well, I-’

Lynn pushed forward, not letting Sabia get a word in. ‘And Yerrig, there? He’s been reporting twelve percent less on his earnings than he should be, saving a significant amount from the crown’s coffers. He wanted to impress one of mother’s girl’s. He thought he did.’

‘So? Who cares? Twelve percent is nothing,’ Sabia shrugged.

‘Nothing?  Ten percent of all the magical goods imported into and exported out of Lundar are run by Yerrig, and he has a monopoly on five of the most popular meads and ales.’ Lynn shook her head. ‘Sabia, I can see why mother is so disappointed in you. I know so much more than you already, and I’m far, far off from being as skilled at this as mother is.’ Lynn’s lips moved subtly, as if she were going to say something else disparaging, but she caught her tongue, and simply nodded. ‘I have work to do for mother,’ she said, sauntering off. 

That split in your dress makes you look like one of mother’s girl’s, Sabia thought with a smug sense of satisfaction.

Still, it felt odd to hear Tyra’s words coming from Lynn’s mouth, and it made her have a second look at the party. A real second look.

Several lounges and chairs were dotted about the large open room. Rich, full cushions and expensive, gold-adorned pillows rested on them and were being used by Tyra’s guests. Tropical and exotic plants that cost their weight in gold were laid out in carefully considered arrangements, their blooming flowers a rainbow of colour. Skilled musicians kept the light backdrop of music running, never seeming to stop. A few women were standing off from the podium where they were playing, listening in rapt attention at the instruments. 

Sabia counted at least six pretty girls walking around, their breasts almost spilling from the tight tops and leggings that left no curves to the imagination. They carried trays of rich caviar and aged wine that was given freely to any guest that wanted it. Mother’s party was consuming more wealth by the hour as any soldier or artisan could hope to make in a lifetime.

Darting around the room here and there, she watched Lynn talking to people. Some of them were members of families that had close ties to their own, and others from families that felt that Tyra’s prominence in Lundar was just a bit too high. Still, though, they had come to the party. She watched as Lynn made sure to be particularly pleasant and smile extra prettily with those from competing families.

She wasn’t sure where her mother had gone, she couldn’t spot the stark purple stand out that Tyra was, anywhere. Her unspoken question was answered only a few minutes later though. The girls had placed their trays down, and spread out amongst the room, extinguishing several of the torches and candles in the building. The flickering flames sputtered, casting some wild shadows before dying. Sabia rolled her eyes at Tyra’s theatrics, but even still she cast her gaze over to the stage. The thick heavy curtains pulled back, and large braziers at either side of the stage brought a dazzling illuminance back, but centered solely on the raised platform.

The musician’s music changed slowly and imperceptibly as everything happened. No longer was it a gentle relaxing backdrop to a night’s events, but a deep, thumping rhythm. Heavy, and it pounded in one’s heart, a melody that wasn’t at all like what most Lundarian’s knew. Elvish women and men took to the stage from behind the curtains. Exotic dark-skinned Vegardan’s. With features strikingly different to a Lundarian’s, the crowd went silent in awe as the half-dressed Elvish forms danced onto the stage.

The entirety of the party had turned to watch. They broke out into a dance, their whole bodies involved. Not slow, but fast and frenetic. But controlled. Every inch of them was involved in the performance, down from their toes, to their fingers and eyes. Designed to spellbind anyone who might be so lucky as to watch. 

And Sabia looked around, and realised it was working. She saw Tyra looking at her from the corner, and her mother inclined her head, nodding at Sabia.

She walked over to Sabia, slowly. Every few steps, she paused, and watched a particularly thrilling part of the dance, as a toned Elven woman flipped, spiraling between the men in expert choreography. Then, her gaze shifted to the girls that worked for her, still weaving in between everyone, ears listening, minds recording everything they overhead. She knew Sabia was aware of it, her daughter had even been the victim of letting a thought or two just be a little too… spoken, while in earshot of Tyra’s girls. 

After a few minutes, Tyra was by Sabia’s side. She leaned over, and whispered softly in Sabia’s ear. ‘You see, daughter. For those that I know their secrets, this is a show of goodwill, but also a display of power, of wealth and control. And those that don’t… it’s a lavish party, full of luxury, decadence, and rich food and wine. They know how big it will be, they know everyone who will come. That it’s an insult to not be there themselves, and not on wants to insult a powerful family - not outright. And I promise to give them laughter, enjoyment, thrill, exotic sights and performances, things that they haven’t seen… but they know they want to.’ Tyra leaned back, and subtly gestured toward a group of people still talking.

At the center of the small group was Lynn. Her lips brushed against ears as she whispered, and her hands rested playfully and reassuringly on arms or legs.

‘So they come, to enjoy. And they eat. And drink. And get drunk. Then, dearest daughter, a few of the correct words, a gentle touch there, a reassuring smile. Something that they ought not to say slips out, and...’ Tyra’s tongue ran along her top lip slowly as she waited, giving Sabia a few seconds to think before continuing, ‘...and… uh-oh,’ she whispered with a soft predator’s venom laced in the words, before sauntering off and leaving Sabia there to watch the rest of the dance. Or to watch her and Lynn.

Tyra stopped a few feet away, and turned back. ‘But I’m sure your skill with a blade is as valuable, of course, daughter,’ she smiled sweetly.