The next day, Ian learned what had actually happened.
The full details weren't made public, but Vaelsh came to him directly. He explained everything, how it had started, and how they hadn't expected things to go in this direction. .
Ian let it go. It wasn't his place to pass judgment, and most of it hadn't been his doing anyway. He planned to take care of the things on his own and never though of dragging others in it. Still, things went out of hand.
The next few days passed quietly. Ian spent most of it resting. He walked through a few parts of the city, nothing adventurous, just enough to keep moving. Mostly, his thoughts stayed with what came next.
Myrra, Enira and the Quiet Testament.
He didn't know what Vulas was planning, or when he'd return. But he couldn't afford to sit still and wait for it. There were too many unknowns. And he couldn't let Vulas roam free.
But now, it was time to leave.
Ian and Wiokz boarded the ship together, and under Amo's watchful gaze, they departed.
On the way, Ian reflected on the journey. Honestly, despite a few hiccups, the overall result was a net positive. He had stepped into the First Order of the Eldritch Path, even managed to try out a few moves.
Still, it had all been rushed. He would need time to gradually understand the changes this path had brought.
Soon after arriving and felling familiar atmosphere of Ial Themar, Ian appreciated how much better the environment here felt compared to Relt.
He had already informed Myrra of his return. She was at the apartment in Rulmose, having just come back yesterday with Axilya.
Back at his facility, Ian needed to talk with Enira. It had been an urgent departure last time, but now he needed a proper conversation.
She wasn't around. Probably out on some task. So he decided to rest.
When Enira returned, she found Ian curled up on the sofa, eyes closed.
She paused for a moment, watching the quiet look on his face, then sat down beside him. After a few more seconds, she leaned in, her lips gently brushing his.
Ian wasn't actually asleep. He had just been resting his eyes. He noticed when she walked in, but wasn't sure what to say, so he stayed still, thinking about what to do next.
He hadn't expected to be attacked so suddenly.
Ian opened his eyes, and in the surprised eyes of Enira, he moved closer, opening her mouth with his tongue and delving into her mouth, eager to reacquaint itself with her warm, inviting taste. The sweetness of her flavor flooded him, leaving him slightly dizzy.
With a gentle urge, Ian positioned Enira so she straddled him, Her soft, plump flesh pressed on his body. The scent that was uniquely hers filled his nostrils, and he allowed the silent sweet moment to continue, savoring every second of it.
After some time Ian glanced at her, his voice low. "We need to talk..."
But Enira stopped him before he could continue. "I know what you want to say. But like I told you—I'm not expecting anything. I just want to stay like this." She hugged him tighter, curling around him.
What more could Ian say? All the thoughts he had prepared faded. In the end, he simply returned the embrace, holding her closer.
Inadvertently they stayed like for some time and Enira began to feel Ian's arousal pressing against her. Ian's hand began to wander, caressing her curvy waistline before arriving at the firmness of her buttocks. The fabric of her dress, already a whisper away from her skin, grew taut against his touch as her breathing grew heavier.
With deliberate movements, Enira stood, revealing the garment she had chosen. It was a dress that clung to her in all the right places, demanding attention with its singular strap.
With a seductive smile, she reached behind her to unclasp the strap, letting the dress pool at her feet. The air was electric as Ian's eyes traveled the length of her body, savoring the sight of her nakedness. The softness of her breasts, the curve of her hips, and the shadow of desire between her thighs was all laid bare before him. She took the initiative to remove his lower garments, exposing his manhood that stood tall and ready.
Taking the lead, she gently grasped the base of the object that Ian couldn't help but be aware of, her touch feather-light yet firm. She positioned herself over him and, with a graceful descent, sheathed him within her.
"Ahhh..."
Their shared gasp echoed through the room as their bodies connected intimately. Ian could feel the velvety warmth and wetness of her inner sanctum, the softness of her petals enveloping his manhood. Meanwhile, Enira felt the unyielding length of him stretch and fill her, reaching deep into her very core.
Struggling with the overwhelming sensation, she found it difficult to move. Ian took action, lifting her and placing her on the sofa's edge.
Sweet, needy noises filled the room as Enira's legs entwined around Ian's waist, her feet digging into his flesh as she held onto him tightly. Each time he retreated, she felt an almost painful yearning for his return, and when he plunged back into her, the sensation washed over her like a wave of pure bliss.
Ian's kisses traveled lower, his teeth grazing the swollen flesh of her nipples. Each bite elicited a sharp gasp from Enira, which only spurred him on further. He pumped into her with an unrelenting pace, her body responding to his thrust.
"Ian... oh, Ian..." Her cries grew louder, more desperate, as the intensity of their lovemaking escalated. The room was alive with the sounds of their bodies moving together in harmony, skin slapping against skin in a symphony of passion.
Time passed in a haze of passion before Enira's climax overtook her, her eyes rolling back in ecstasy and her body arched, as Ian released his warmth inside her.
Once the intensity of the moment ebbed, they sank back into the familiar embrace with Enira's supple form resting upon Ian, still panting slightly from earlier encounter with Ian still deeply sheathed within her.
Ian's glided leisurely across her bare, unblemished skin, tracing the contours of her back with a gentle, soothing touch.
Just as the quiet between them settled, Ian's device buzzed. Myrra's name lit up the screen.
He answered. "Yeah?"
Her voice came through "When will you be here?"
Ian glanced at the time. "I'm at the facility. Leaving soon."
"Ahh okay"
The call ended.
Beside him, Enira lay silent, her face turned slightly away. Her cheeks were flushed red, not from warmth but from shame, embarrassed to be in that position while he took the call.
Upon ending the call, Enira languidly stirred, the delicate movements of her body revealing her reluctance to disengage from their passionate entanglement. Ian's manhood slipped from within her. A trail of his essence painted a stark contrast against the soft curve of her inner thigh, slowly meandering down.
Ian, feeling the stirrings of desire once more, leaned in, ready to continue their tangled pause. But Enira gently stopped him, placing a hand on his chest.
"Wife comes before mistress," she murmured. "Go now."
He blinked, caught off guard by her bluntness, but couldn't help the small smile that followed. She was nothing if not honest.
Ian got up and began dressing. Enira sat up as well, fumbling slightly with her clothes. He stepped in, helped her in the act of dressing, then leaned down to give her a deep, lingering kiss.
"I'll be back soon," he said quietly.
"Waiting," she replied with a playful wink.
With that, Ian stepped out and made his way back toward the apartment in Rulmose.
As the door closed behind him, Enira looked around the room, fluids dripping, clothes scattered, the space a mess.
"I should wash and clean first…"
When Ian returned to the apartment, Myrra's sweet face greeted him at the door.
He pulled her into a long, quiet hug. Behind her, Reina was also there, sitting on couch. Ian gave her a nod and a small smile, then paused, surprised. He could sense it. She had entered the First Order.
"Congrats on the promotion," Ian said.
Myrra turned to Reina, wide-eyed. "You entered the First Order? You didn't tell me?"
Reina shrugged lightly. "I didn't want to make a big deal out of it."
Myrra shook her head. "It is a big deal. We should celebrate!"
Ian nodded in agreement.
Then he added, "Let me go wash up first."
Myrra smiled gently and gave a nod, already turning over party ideas in her head.
But while that moment played out quietly on the surface of Idilia, far beyond its planetary orbit, out past the moons and the drift of signal-linked satellites, something else was stirring in the outer dark.
A platform moved steadily through space, its path not bound to Idilia's gravity but aligned with the pull of the sun-star at the center of the system. It was an artificial construct, vast, radiant, and precise. The surface gleamed with alloyed layers, interwoven like filigree across a massive ring structure. Towers rose at intervals around its circular span, each glowing faintly with maintained energy fields. At its core was a hollowed arc housing the main transit point: the wormhole anchor. This was the Sol-Line Transit Hub - Idilia's primary gate for interstellar travel, and one of the few structures permanently synchronized with the sun-star's frame.
Somewhere deep within, the monitoring chamber kept watch, an enclosed room layered with curved displays and soft, reactive lighting. Holographic charts pulsed slowly along the main table, showing wormhole drift, particle activity, and ship routes in a pale blue haze. Elven technicians moved between stations, murmuring updates in calm, clear voices.
Then, without warning, a small ship appeared. It shimmered into view for just a moment near the outer array then vanished again, slipping into space like it had never existed.
One of the technicians blinked and sat up straighter."Did something just appear?"
Another leaned over their terminal. "There were some unnatural fluctuations in the peripheral band… but I'm not seeing anything solid. No mass readings."
A third ran a check. "All systems clean. Logs are quiet."
"…Must've been a ghost spike," the first muttered.
"Continue then," came the supervisor's calm voice.
The room settled again, the screens pulsing softly, unaware that something had already come and gone.
The ship descended onto Idilia without triggering any alerts. The planetary defense systems, programmed to intercept unauthorized entries, did not react. It passed through as if the grid didn't notice.
Its structure was delicate. The main body was narrow and elongated, curved from front to rear without sharp edges. Surface was smooth, layered with faint crystalline plating over fine metal. Side fins extended outward like flattened petals, thin and decorative.
The main hatch opened. The panels folded out with mechanical precision.
A man stepped out. He was an elf of middle age. Crimson hair fell to his shoulders, tied with a simple leather cord. His robes were dark, cut in clean panels that hung straight, stitched with faint teal patterns along the seams. He surveyed the horizon with pale eyes that gave nothing away.
At last, he spoke over the soft hiss of the hatch closing behind him."Finally here."
He waved his hand and the ship simply disappeared, leaving no trace behind.
"I wonder where little Reina is now," he said to himself, eyes scanning the horizon. "Well, anyway… now that I'm here, I should enjoy a little."
As for the identity of this elven man, it was not something ordinary.
This was Laeroth Callis. A Sixth Order, he had come from the elven ancestral star region, on an inspection.
It had begun when Lieutenant Giullis received a message from his old friend, Durlan. The general sent a request to High Command, and now they were here.
Technically, it wasn't Laeroth's responsibility. But he had decided to come anyway. He thought it would be a good outing. He could meet his great-grandniece Reina, and besides, Idilia was practically an extension of the Callis family anyway.
Since the very beginning, it was the Callis family who had opened this planet—who first arrived here, settled people, and built the foundations. The governors of Idilia had always come from the Callis line. Laeroth didn't know the current one, too many generations separated them.
But Reina, like him, had come here from their original residing place. And as a doting elder who had played with her when she was still a small child, it felt right to come himself.