Greyhall's lower district was unusually loud tonight. Bards played too fast, merchants shouted too late, and the rain—which had politely waited all day—had started to fall in scattered sheets. Kaelen didn't mind the wet. He liked the sound of it. It was grounding.
He'd spent the last few days charting new leyline fractures near the Water Tower, and his thoughts were more tangled than his notes. He needed tea. Or whiskey. Maybe both.
He stepped into a tavern called The Crooked Hex, a place known more for its questionable floorboards than its clientele. Inside, it was warm and dimly lit with enchanted lanterns. A long, old bar cut the room in half, and at the far end sat a woman—clearly a mage, clearly drunk, and very clearly watching him.
She was lounging in a seat that looked like it had given up trying to support her posture. Her robes were crooked, collar half-undone, and her gloves had been tossed on the table next to a bottle of something sharp-smelling. Flame-colored hair spilled from her hood in wild tangles, and when she caught Kaelen's eyes, she smirked—like a fox who just spotted something far too interesting to let walk past.
"You've got the look," she called across the room, her voice low and velvety with drink.
Kaelen blinked. "The look?"
She sat up with more grace than expected for someone swaying slightly. "The look of a man who either knows too much… or wants to pretend he doesn't."
Kaelen hesitated, unsure whether to retreat or engage. But curiosity tugged harder. He walked toward her.
"I'm Kaelen," he said cautiously, sitting across from her.
"Tessira." She extended a hand, palm still stained with lingering runes from a spell gone wrong—or right. "Arcanist. Traveler. Disaster with a bottle."
He shook her hand. Her grip was warm and unsteady, but there was a spark in her eyes—magic, mischief, and something rawer.
"You're the god-slayer, right?" she asked, leaning forward.
Kaelen winced. "I helped kill one, yes."
"Modest." She leaned even closer, breath brushing the air between them. "I like modest. Makes it more fun when you unravel."
Kaelen raised an eyebrow. "Are you… flirting with me?"
She smirked. "Would it work if I said no?"
Kaelen, despite himself, chuckled. "Maybe."
Tessira laughed, head tilting back just slightly. Her neckline shifted as she did, drawing Kaelen's eyes for a moment before he looked away, flushing. She saw it. She leaned even closer.
"You're adorable," she said. "Terrible with women, aren't you?"
Kaelen cleared his throat. "I… function better around diagrams."
"Then draw me something interesting," she whispered.
They left the tavern together, rain tapping softly on stone and shoulder. Tessira led him through the winding side streets of Greyhall to a small inn—one with private rooms, a sealed fireplace, and a bed that didn't creak under the weight of too much history.
The moment the door closed behind them, Tessira pressed him back against it, her breath hot with anticipation, and her magic—subtle and smoky—brushed against his skin like a suggestion he could not ignore.
"Tell me to stop," she whispered, her voice hoarse against his throat.
Kaelen didn't speak.
He kissed her instead.
The night passed with heat
Tessira's ass kept bouncing on Kaelens dick,
plop~ plop~ plop~
"I cant believe this is happening~.." he thought
then with his of mind he grabbed her legs mid hipping, then flipped her over and started dominating her.
the sound of flapping started to get fasting and louder until it stopped with bursting sound, he cumed hard inside of Tessira.
"fuck" he said
after a few moments
he drank a refill potion, then boosted his speed and stamina
Tessira kept moaning hard
"my ass.. its gonna explode!" she shouted.
but Kaelen didnt stop, he was on the mode
then after doing in her womb, she felt warm
a sharp pain then went to Tessira's ass hole, it was Kaelen entering the ass
"stop!" she moaned.
Kaelen grabbed Tessira's hair then fucked her in the ass, he thrusted with all his might, while slapping her ass.
Kaelen then grabbed Tessira's ass and made her suck his dick, she gulped down each thrust.
And in the quiet, when the fire had died down and Tessira lay curled beside him, red hair fanned across the pillow like fire, she murmured, "I don't want anything complicated. Just… warmth."
Kaelen, half-asleep, whispered, "I think I can manage that."
By morning, she was gone, she was limping, every step hurted.
Only a scorch-mark kiss on the window and a note remained:
"That was better than diagrams. If fate's kind, maybe again.—T."
Kaelen stood there for a long moment, shirt half-buttoned, hand brushing his collarbone where a rune had been drawn in sleep.
He didn't feel used.
He felt... awakened.
And strangely lighter.
He folded the note, tucked it into his satchel, and left without speaking a word.