Elias pushed back his chair with a soft scrape against the polished marble floor, the lingering sweetness of maple syrup and fresh berries still coating his tongue as he patted the last sticky-fingered child on the head and stepped out of the dining hall. The cool shift in air greeted him immediately—warm, food-scented chaos giving way to the crisp, sun-lit corridor where morning light poured through tall stained-glass windows, painting the walls in shifting mosaics of sapphire and emerald. The faint echo of laughter and clinking silverware faded behind him, replaced by the distant trickle of a courtyard fountain and the subtle, ever-present hum of Aether drifting through the estate's ancient stones.
He had barely taken ten steps when the quick patter of lighter footsteps caught up. Aurelia and Lyria appeared on either flank, moving in perfect sync as if pulled by the same invisible thread. Aurelia's golden hair, now neatly braided after the morning's disasters, caught the colored light like molten sunlight; Lyria's raven waves swayed with each eager stride, carrying a faint trace of vanilla and steel from their earlier "discussion."
"Hey, guys," Elias greeted with an easy smile, his voice warm and casual, the faint glow of his awakening Hearthsong still lingering in his chest like a gentle hearth after feeding the children—making the air around him feel inexplicably comforting.
"Hey," they answered together, voices overlapping in bright harmony, eyes sparkling with barely contained excitement.
"Where are you going?" Aurelia asked, tilting her head, the motion sending a subtle shimmer of residual Dawnblade light across her braid.
Elias shrugged lightly, hands sliding into his pockets. "Heading to the mission hall. Want to tag along?"
Both girls froze for half a heartbeat, then answered in unison, words tumbling over each other like eager puppies:
"Do you even have to ask?"
"We're always ready—just say the word!"
Lyria added with a playful grin, "Honestly, Elias, it's like you're trying to leave without your personal honor guard."
A soft laugh escaped him, the sound echoing pleasantly down the corridor as the three fell into step together. Their boots clicked in easy rhythm on the cool stone floor—Elias in the middle, Aurelia on his right radiating gentle warmth like early sunrise, Lyria on his left with the faint, teasing tug of Moonlit gravity that made each stride feel lighter than it should. The air between them buzzed with unspoken anticipation, carrying hints of breakfast coffee, lingering perfume, and the subtle electric promise of whatever mission awaited.
Together, they turned toward the mission hall, sunlight streaming over their shoulders, the estate's ancient walls seeming to hum a little brighter in their wake.
Elias reached for the ornate brass handle of the mission hall's heavy oak door, the metal cool and smooth under his palm, when a muffled cascade of sounds leaked through the thick wood—soft, rhythmic thumps against cushioned surfaces, breathy moans that rose and fell like a forbidden melody, the faint creak of strained furniture, and the unmistakable wet slide of skin on skin. The air just outside the door carried a subtle, heated musk that seeped through the cracks—sweat, arousal, and the faint floral trace of elven perfumes turned heady with desire.
He froze, hand hovering, and scratched the back of his head with the wide-eyed innocence of a child who'd stumbled onto something he wasn't supposed to understand. A flush crept up his neck. "Uh… maybe we should wait a while," he muttered, voice cracking just a little, his awakening Hearthsong fluttering uncertainly in his chest like a caged bird.
Aurelia and Lyria exchanged a quick glance and nodded far too eagerly, cheeks already tinting pink.
A few minutes later, the muffled symphony inside only grew more fervent—gasps sharpening into desperate whimpers, the rhythmic slap of flesh quickening, the air growing thicker with that intoxicating scent until it wrapped around them like warm silk.
Lyria, unable to resist, leaned in close—dangerously close. Her raven hair brushed Elias's shoulder, carrying the sweet vanilla warmth of her skin; her breath, soft and strawberry-sweet from breakfast, ghosted over his lips as she tilted her face up to his. Their mouths hovered a mere whisper apart, so near he could feel the humid heat radiating from her parted lips, could see the faint tremble in her lower lip as Moonlit gravity tugged subtly at the space between them, making the moment feel weightless and heavy all at once.
"What… what do you think is happening in there?" she asked, voice a husky, innocent murmur that vibrated straight through him, her dark eyes wide and gleaming with curiosity and something far less innocent.
Elias's brain short-circuited. A rush of blood roared in his ears; his Hearthsong pulsed hot and unsteady, amplifying the sudden spike of desire until every nerve ending sparked.
Aurelia, ever the bold one, grinned like a cat who'd spotted cream. "Well, if you're both so curious," she announced loudly enough to carry through the door, "I'll just open it and we can all find out!"
Elias and Lyria lunged to stop her—"Wait—!" "Aurelia, no—!"—but it was already too late.
Inside, panic erupted: frantic rustling of fabric, a startled yelp, the clatter of something falling to the floor, hurried whispers of "Hurry—clothes—!"
Aurelia swung the door wide with theatrical flair.
The scene that greeted them was pure, heated chaos.
On the wide velvet settee in the center of the mission hall's private antechamber, two exquisite high elves—both well over nine centuries old yet appearing in the eternal prime of their thirties—were scrambling to cover themselves.
The male, Lord Sylvaine Emberleaf, silver-haired and lean-muscled, hopped on one foot as he tried to wrestle a pair of silken underwear up his thighs, his flushed skin glistening with a fine sheen of sweat, arousal still proudly evident and refusing to subside under the sudden audience.
Beside him, Lady Serelith Moonwhisper—curves lush and timeless—stood in nothing but delicate lace panties that clung low on her hips, one hand clutching a crumpled blouse to her chest while the other groped blindly for her missing bra. Her full, heavy breasts were on shameless display, creamy skin marked with faint red imprints of passionate fingers, dusky pink nipples peaked tight and glistening slightly from earlier attention, rising and falling with each rapid, embarrassed breath. The air around them was thick with the raw scent of recent sex—salt, musk, and the lingering sweetness of elven nectar.
Elias's body reacted before his mind could catch up. Blood surged south; his cock hardened instantly, straining against the fabric of his trousers with insistent heat. Lyria, still pressed flush against his side from her earlier lean-in, felt it immediately—the rigid length brushing firmly against the thin barrier of her panties beneath her skirt. A soft, involuntary whimper escaped her as molten desire flooded her core, Moonlit Resonance flaring hot and wild, making her thighs clench and her breath hitch. She bit down hard on her lower lip, teeth sinking into plush flesh until it turned a deeper rose, fighting the urge to grind back against him right there in the doorway, her body trembling with barely restrained need as the scent of arousal thickened the air even further.
For a long, suspended heartbeat, no one spoke—only the sound of ragged breathing, the rustle of hurried fabric, and the low, throbbing hum of multiple Aetheric Cores reacting to the sudden surge of lust filling the room like smoke.