<Daughter, is everything alright?>
<Mom! You asked me this literally three minutes ago!>
<Three minutes is a long time, many events could’ve happened since the last time we spoke.>
<Ugh…! Why did Quin have to enslave my mother…> Seraphiel grumbled. Sylvaris had been bombarding her with mental messages, asking if she was okay.
<Don’t say it like that, you’re putting the Prodigious Son in a bad light. It was me who asked to be [Subjugated].>
<If the girls heard that, they would all think you were talking dirty… but you’re just an innocent maiden.>
The gorgeous, silver-haired Mooncaller raised an eyebrow. <Talking dirty? What do you mean? Also, don’t refer to your mother as a maiden, you’re being disrespectful.>
<But that’s what you are, unlike me. Hehe! Let me know when you feel ready to part your legs to welcome Quin in, I’ll do the rest from there. Anyhow, Mom, I’m good. We’re currently talking strategy with the girls, bye!> Just like that, Seraphiel ’slammed the phone’ on her mother.
The ethereal moon mother furrowed her brows due to the attitude her daughter had been giving her in recent times. Back home in their clan’s territory, she’d been nothing but the sweetest of daughters who was rarely if ever troublesome during her hundred years of life, yet the elven mother couldn’t help but realize she lost a lot of her daughter’s respect ever since Seraphiel found Quinlan and her new friends in the lands of the humans.
They were turning her daughter into a rebel… That being said, Sylvaris couldn’t help but smile. Her daughter had some good friends back home, but she’d made truly great ones over here, and in such a short time at that.
Sylvaris knew Seraphiel had found her home, and she was happy for her daughter. It seemed she would have to brace her heart to let Sera go.
"Easier said than done…" She muttered and stood from her sofa, strolling over to her room’s window that displayed the beautiful moon of the night sky. A contented sigh left her delicate lips as she gazed at the serene image.
Sylvaris was happy here, just like her daughter. She’d left the Vaelorith clan and its estates in her mother’s—Seraphiel’s grandmother’s—hands, so the silver-haired beauty could rest easy knowing things were okay back home.
Instead of worrying about rushing back, Sylvaris was even joyous that she could take a little break from rulership. She thought of her time here as a vacation, away from her duties, surrounded by the friends of her daughter.
Despite it being night, she was not tired. Jasmine was already asleep, so she couldn’t tutor her about domain management using [Master’s Link]. Instead, the Mooncaller elected to go for a stroll.
As she glanced at the walls of the mansion, Sylvaris noticed some changes. The estate was coming along nicely, and although it was a far cry from the pristine halls of the Vaelorith Clan, it had its own charm, a form of raw beauty that she had grown fond of. In recent times, Quinlan’d bought twenty extra labor slaves who were tasked to join Ronan and Iselda, doing construction duties. As such, the labor slaves working on the mansion had doubled, further increasing construction developments. It was just about completed.
Opening the doors of her room, the silver-haired beauty was greeted by the sight of a warrior clad in heavy armor. Only a few pink strands of hair that could be seen from below her helmet told Sylvaris who it was. "Lyra."
The pink-haired tanker girl turned around and bowed respectfully, "Lady Sylvaris."
The Mooncaller had a gentle smile erupt on her features. She knew what was going on perfectly well. Quinlan couldn’t take his team’s tanker with him due to her being Soren, the Geomancer’s ex-slave, whom Vex would recognize, giving all of them trouble. ꞦАŊỖBЕŚ
As a result, this loyal and dutiful girl found herself greatly troubled due to feeling useless. To that end, she decided the best way to become useful would be to guard the person who was most important to Quinlan present in the stronghold.
Since Jasmine was back in Braedon, having resumed her duties as a Twilight Apprentice-ranked merchant, Sylvaris was technically the most important person here to Quinlan because she was the mother of one of his lovers. Although Kaelira was also present, for now, she was nothing but a subordinate.
Knowing people like Lyra needed to have something to do not to feel useless and miserable, she decided to give her stalwart protector something to do. "I’m going on a stroll, care to join me?"
"It would be my pleasure!" Lyra replied merrily and quickly took up her position a respectful step behind the elf mother.
As soon as they stepped outside, the elven mother inhaled, letting the crisp, clean night air carry the scent of earth and wood to her nostrils.
Naturally, she would head toward the miracle present in this wonderful home.
The Geim.
Once she was near, Sylvaris’ toes curled instinctively, attempting to glean some information regarding the slumbering creature. The tree was still young, still unaware, but it was growing. Rapidly.
She exhaled softly while whispering, "Not long now…"
A few figures sat around the tree. They were conversing with it, keeping it company, worried it might get bored in its lonesome.
They had once been part of Kaelira’s team, but their combat skills had not been fitting for Consortium tasks, at least according to Quinlan. He preferred them being sentries near his home, with the main task of protecting and caring for the Geim.
Rather than feel discarded, they embraced their new role wholeheartedly.
How couldn’t they?
Caring for a Geim was the highest privilege an elf could receive, besides tending to Luminara herself. To be chosen for such an honor was a blessing instead of a punishment. They wore peaceful smiles, extremely content with how their lives turned out to be.
Sylvaris lingered for a moment to observe the sight before continuing down the path. She didn’t want to bother the elves who were busy telling their tales to the creature.
Continue reading on
Instead, they walked toward the smithy.
Thanks to the trip they took to the capital, where she and Sera were masquerading around as dejected sex slaves of the scummy noble called Black, they stocked up on all that was required to finish the smithy of Kaelira, the sole artificer of Quinlan.
Sylvaris could hear it before she saw it. To her surprise, there were no rhythmic clangs of hammer on metal but merry, feminine laughter.
Six women sat outside the smithy with a mug of ale in hand, and their faces were flushed with warmth.
They were Kaelira’s team, Kai’s ex-slaves who replaced the elven rangers as Ambition’s Heralds. Sylvaris expected to find her fellow elf who had a quirky fascination with the dwarf-dominated field of artificing to be hammering away, but instead, she was surrounded by her team.
The eyes of the six human women spoke volumes of camaraderie, but Kaelira herself was reluctant. Sylvaris could see it in her dissatisfied posture. It wasn’t hard to guess that her subordinates had insisted she stop for the day, and so here she was, seated among them.
Liora, the second healer of Quinlan’s Ascendants, giggled and asked in a tipsy tone, "You really wanted to keep hammering away, didn’t you?"