Chapter 111: Meetings With New Mage Group

The afternoon sun streamed through the windows of the suite, casting long rays across the room. Alaric stirred in his sleep, a pleasant warmth lingering from the bodies that had been pressed against his throughout the night. He stretched languidly, his eyes fluttering open to find Ulriya and Kara still nestled beside him, their soft curves a welcome sight.

A slow smile spread across his face as he reached out, his hands gently cupping their voluptuous breasts. They stirred at his touch, their eyes fluttering open, and sleepy smiles gracing their lips. A few stolen kisses and whispered endearments later, Alaric rose from the bed, the memory of their shared intimacy lingering like a pleasant dream.

He instructed the two maids to prepare a bath for him, and they readily obliged, their movements graceful and efficient. Soon, the bathing area was filled with warm, fragrant steam, and Alaric sank into the soothing water, letting the tension melt away from his muscles. Ulriya and Kara took turns washing his body, their touch both tender and sensual, a reminder of the passion they had shared.

After his bath, he dressed in a fresh tunic and trousers, the crisp fabric a welcome change from the rumpled sheets. He glanced at his maids, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “I’ll be heading to the palace,” he said. “I expect you two to behave yourselves while I’m gone.”

They giggled softly, their eyes sparkling with mischief. “Of course, Master,” Kara replied, her voice laced with playful sarcasm.

Alaric chuckled and left the inn, heading towards the royal palace. The city was now bustling with midday activity, the streets crowded with merchants, artisans, and citizens going about their daily lives.

He arrived at the palace, navigating the familiar corridors with a practiced ease. He reached the chamber designated for his team’s operations, finding the other mages already present.

He entered the room, offering a polite but confident smile. “Good afternoon, everyone,” he greeted, his voice smooth and warm.

Rowena, Helena, and Petra returned his greeting with genuine smiles, their eyes sparkling with warmth and curiosity.

“Good afternoon, Alaric,” Rowena said, her voice melodic. “You’re fashionably late.”

“Indeed,” Helena added, her smile gentle. “We were beginning to wonder if you’d decided to skip out on us.”

Petra simply nodded, her expression neutral but her eyes conveying a hint of warmth.

The greetings from Drustan and Kaelith, however, were markedly different. Drustan offered a curt nod, his eyes narrowed and his expression unreadable. Kaelith simply grunted, his gaze dismissive.

Alaric returned their greetings with equal coolness, maintaining his composure and refusing to let their animosity affect him. He knew that winning their trust would be a slow process, but he was determined to prove himself.

As the group prepared to begin their meeting, Drustan suddenly spoke, his gravelly voice cutting through the air. “Steele,” he said, his eyes fixed intently on Alaric. “I received reports that you sent a messenger last night, shortly after arriving at your inn.”

Alaric’s brow furrowed slightly. He had indeed sent a message to Iridelle, informing her of his new location so she could continue working on the artifact. He hadn’t expected anyone to notice, let alone consider it suspicious.

“Yes,” he replied calmly, meeting Drustan’s gaze. “I did.”

“And who was this message for?” Drustan pressed, his eyes narrowing. “Someone you’re reporting to, perhaps? Someone outside this operation?”

The atmosphere in the room immediately shifted, the earlier friendly banter replaced by a palpable tension. Rowena, Helena, and Petra exchanged worried glances, their expressions turning serious.

“Drustan, what are you implying?” Rowena asked, her voice laced with concern.

“I’m simply asking a question,” Drustan retorted, his gaze still locked on Alaric. “It’s crucial that we know who is aware of our activities. Especially given the sensitive nature of our work. We can’t afford any leaks.”

Kaelith nodded in agreement, his eyes narrowing as he scrutinized Alaric. “He has a point. We’re dealing with the Phantom Assembly. They have eyes and ears everywhere.”

Alaric maintained his composure, refusing to be intimidated by their thinly veiled accusations. “The message was for someone I’ve hired to assist me with a private project,” he explained, his tone even and controlled. “It had absolutely nothing to do with this team or our operations.”

“A private project?” Drustan repeated, his voice laced with skepticism. “And what kind of project requires such secrecy that you have to send messages in the dead of night?”

“It’s an artifact I’m having crafted,” Alaric replied, his tone firm but measured. “It’s a complex device, and I simply informed the artificer of my new location so she could continue her work. She is also staying at the same inn as me.”

“An artificer,” Kaelith scoffed, a sneer twisting his lips. “And you expect us to believe that convenient excuse?”

“It’s the truth,” Alaric said, his voice unwavering. “If you doubt my word, I’m more than happy to introduce you to her. She’s at the Artisan’s Rest. You are free to verify my story.”

Rowena placed a comforting hand on Drustan’s arm, her violet eyes pleading. “Drustan, please,” she said softly. “I believe Alaric. He wouldn’t compromise our mission.”

Helena nodded in agreement, her expression calm but firm. “I concur. There’s no need for these accusations. We should be focusing on the task at hand.”

Petra, who had remained silent until now, finally spoke, her voice calm and measured. “I also believe Alaric. His explanation is logical. And frankly, we have more pressing matters to discuss than questioning his personal affairs.”

Drustan hesitated for a tense moment, his gaze still fixed on Alaric, as if trying to discern any hint of deception in his eyes. He seemed to be weighing his options, considering the possibility that Alaric was telling the truth.

Finally, he let out a heavy sigh, his expression softening slightly, though a hint of suspicion still lingered in his eyes. “Very well,” he said, his voice grudging. “I’ll take your word for it, Steele. But I’ll be watching you. And if I find any evidence of betrayal, you’ll answer to me.”

Alaric nodded, maintaining his composure. “That’s your prerogative, Drustan,” he said calmly. “But I assure you, my focus is solely on completing this mission and uncovering the secrets of the Phantom Assembly. You have my word on that.”

The tension in the room began to dissipate slightly, though a lingering unease remained. Alaric knew that he had successfully diffused the immediate situation, but he also knew that he had made an enemy in Drustan. He would have to be careful, watching his every move, ensuring that he didn’t give Drustan any further reason to doubt him.

He glanced at Rowena, Helena, and Petra, offering them a grateful smile. He appreciated their support, their willingness to trust him despite Drustan’s harsh accusations. He knew that he would have to work hard to earn their full trust, but he was confident that he could do it.

The meeting then began in earnest, the group turning their attention to the task at hand. They reviewed the information they had gathered so far, discussing potential leads and strategizing their next moves. Alaric contributed his own insights, offering suggestions based on his knowledge of magic and his understanding of the Phantom Assembly’s methods.

Despite the earlier tension, the meeting proved to be productive. The group worked together efficiently, sharing information and collaborating on strategies.

~~

The sun arced lazily across the sky as Alaric and the team left the palace. The city’s bustling streets soon gave way to quieter alleys as they followed the leads they had meticulously pieced together during their meeting. The air buzzed with tension, each of them keenly aware of the importance of their task. The Phantom Assembly’s presence in the region had become a menacing shadow, and finding even the smallest trace of their activity could mean a breakthrough—or a trap.

Rowena walked beside Alaric, her violet eyes scanning the path ahead. “The first location is an old warehouse near the docks,” she said, glancing at the map in her hands. “According to the reports, it was abandoned about two months ago, but locals have noticed strange activity at night.”

Helena, ever the voice of reason, added, “We should be cautious. If the Assembly is involved, there’s a good chance they’ve left wards or traps.”

Drustan, who had remained silent for most of the walk, finally spoke, his voice gruff. “And if they’re there, we’ll take them down before they can slip away.”

Alaric noted the sharpness in Drustan’s tone but chose not to respond. Instead, he focused on the mission. “I can detect magical traces if there are any wards. Let me take point when we get close.”

Kaelith let out a snort from behind them. “Bold of you to assume we’ll trust your judgment, Steele.”

Before Alaric could reply, Petra interjected, her voice steady. “Enough, Kaelith. We’re here to work together, not snipe at each other. Let’s focus.”

Kaelith muttered something under his breath but said no more. Alaric caught a faint smile from Rowena, and Helena gave him a reassuring nod. Despite the tension, he appreciated their quiet support.

When they reached the warehouse, the group fanned out, each of them scanning the area for signs of life or lingering magic. The building loomed before them, its once-sturdy walls now crumbling and covered in ivy. The air smelled of salt and decay, a reminder of its proximity to the docks.

Alaric held up a hand, signaling for the group to stop. He closed his eyes, focusing his senses. A faint shimmer of magic prickled at the edge of his awareness. “There’s something here,” he murmured. “A ward, but it’s faint. Likely a detection spell.”

Rowena stepped closer, her voice low. “Can you disarm it?”

He nodded, kneeling to trace a few symbols into the dirt. With a whispered incantation, the magic dissipated like smoke on the wind. “It’s clear,” he said, rising to his feet.

They moved inside cautiously, their steps echoing in the cavernous space. Crates and barrels were stacked haphazardly, some spilling their contents onto the floor. But what caught their attention was the blood—dark stains smeared across the floor and walls.

Helena knelt to inspect one of the stains, her expression grim. “This is fresh. Whoever was here didn’t leave peacefully.”

Drustan growled, his hand tightening on the hilt of his sword. “They were here. Recently. Damn it, we’re too late.”

As they searched the warehouse, it became clear that someone—or something—had cleaned up. There were no bodies, no clues, just the lingering sense of violence. The group exchanged uneasy glances.

“This isn’t random,” Petra said, her voice thoughtful. “It’s like they knew we were coming.”

Kaelith scowled. “Or someone tipped them off.”

Drustan’s eyes flicked to Alaric, suspicion flickering across his face, but he said nothing. Instead, he turned to Rowena. “Where’s the next location?”

She consulted the map. “An abandoned inn on the outskirts of the city. It’s about a thirty-minute walk.”

The pattern repeated itself at the next location—and the one after that. Each time they arrived, the signs of recent activity were unmistakable. Blood, scattered belongings, and faint magical traces painted a picture of hasty departures and brutal encounters. And each time, the members of the Phantom Assembly they sought were already dead.

By the time the group reached the last location on their list, the sun was sinking low in the sky, bathing the city in hues of orange and gold. The exhaustion was evident on everyone’s faces, but the frustration was even more palpable.

“This doesn’t make sense,” Helena said, pacing the length of the dusty room they now stood in. “It’s like someone’s deliberately staying one step ahead of us.”

“Or cleaning up their messes,” Petra added. “The question is, who?”

Rowena looked thoughtful, her brow furrowed. “Whoever it is, they’re efficient. Too efficient. This isn’t the work of amateurs.”

Alaric leaned against a wall, his mind racing. He couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being manipulated, led in circles by an unseen hand. But why? What purpose could it serve?

Drustan’s patience finally snapped. “Enough speculation. We’re wasting time. If we can’t find any living members, we need to focus on gathering information from what’s left behind.”

Kaelith muttered something under his breath, but he followed Drustan’s lead, rifling through the remnants of the Phantom Assembly’s presence. The others joined in, though their earlier energy had waned.

When they finally left the last location, the sky was dark, the city illuminated by the soft glow of lanterns. The walk back to the palace was silent, each of them lost in their thoughts.

At the palace, they briefly discussed their findings—or lack thereof—before parting ways for the night. Alaric felt a pang of relief as he stepped out into the cool evening air, heading towards the Artisan’s Rest. The day had been long and fruitless, but at least he could look forward to a quiet evening.

When he entered the inn, the warm glow of the hearth greeted him, along with the familiar sight of Ulriya and Kara waiting by the stairs. Their faces lit up when they saw him, and they hurried to his side.

“Master,” Kara said, her voice soft and soothing. “You look exhausted.”

Ulriya nodded, her green eyes filled with concern. “Come upstairs. We’ve prepared everything for you.”

Alaric smiled, allowing himself to be led to his suite. The tension in his shoulders eased as the door closed behind him. Ulriya and Kara moved to help him out of his coat and boots, their hands gentle and efficient.

As he sank onto the sofa, he noticed Iridelle sitting at the desk, her head bent over the intricate pieces of the communication artifact. She looked up as he entered, offering a small smile.

“You’re back,” she said, her voice warm but tinged with weariness. “How was the hunt?”

“Frustrating,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “Everywhere we went, we found traces of the Phantom Assembly—but no actual members. It’s like they were being picked off just before we arrived.”

Iridelle’s brow furrowed, and she set down her tools. “That’s…odd. Someone’s interfering, but I can’t imagine why.”

“Neither can we,” he said, leaning back. “But we’ll figure it out.”

Ulriya approached with a tray of food and drink, setting it on the table before him. “Eat something, Master,” she said softly. “You’ll feel better.”

As Alaric ate, he watched Iridelle return to her work, her fingers deftly assembling the artifact. Ulriya and Kara sat nearby, their presence a comforting balm after the day’s chaos.

By the time he finished his meal, the weariness in his body had begun to ebb. He rose and moved to stand beside Iridelle, peering at the artifact. “How’s it coming along?” he asked.

“Slowly but surely,” she replied, a hint of pride in her voice. “It’s a complex piece, but I’m making progress. A few more days, and it should be functional.”

“Good,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Thank you, Iridelle. Your work means a lot.”

She glanced up at him, her expression softening. “It’s my pleasure, Young Master Alaric. I’ll do my best to ensure it’s perfect.”

As the night deepened, Alaric found himself grateful for the small moments of peace amidst the chaos.

~~

The late hours of the night had settled upon the inn, casting long shadows across the suite. Alaric, having enjoyed a light meal and pleasant conversation with Iridelle, Ulriya, and Kara, decided it was time to retire for the night.

“It’s getting late,” he announced, stretching slightly. “We’ve all had a long day. We should rest.”

Ulriya and Kara readily agreed, their eyes already heavy with sleep. They began preparing the beds, fluffing the pillows and turning down the covers.

Iridelle hesitated, glancing at the communication artifact still resting on the desk. “I could work a little longer,” she murmured, her voice laced with a hint of reluctance. “There are still a few minor adjustments I could make.”

“Nonsense,” Alaric said, his tone firm but gentle. “You’ve been working tirelessly. You need rest as much as anyone.” He approached her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “In fact,” he continued, a thoughtful expression crossing his face, “I have an idea.”

He turned to Ulriya and Kara. “Would you mind preparing some warm water and oils?” he asked. “I’d like to give Iridelle a massage. She’s been working incredibly hard, and her muscles must be stiff.”

Ulriya and Kara exchanged knowing glances, a hint of amusement in their eyes. They knew their master’s intentions went beyond simply relieving Iridelle’s muscle tension, but they readily agreed, hurrying to gather the necessary supplies.

Iridelle’s cheeks flushed slightly at Alaric’s suggestion. “Oh, Young Master Alaric, that’s not necessary,” she protested, her voice soft. “I’m fine, really.”

“Nonsense,” Alaric repeated, his smile warm and reassuring. “It’s the least I can do. You’ve been invaluable to this project, and I want to show my appreciation.”

He gently guided her towards one of the beds, the one furthest from where Ulriya and Kara were preparing things. Iridelle hesitated again, but she couldn’t bring herself to refuse Young Master Alaric’s offer. She knew her place, and she knew that it wasn’t her place to refuse a request from her Young Master.

She lay down on the bed, her body stiff with a mixture of anticipation and nervousness. She had initially assumed that Ulriya or Kara would be giving her the massage, but as she watched Alaric approach her, his eyes filled with a warm intensity, she realized that he intended to give her the massage himself.

Ulriya and Kara finished preparing the warm water and oils, placing them on a small table beside the bed. They then retreated to the other bed, lying down and pulling the covers over themselves, their eyes fixed on Alaric and Iridelle.

Alaric sat down on the edge of the bed beside Iridelle, his gaze gentle. “Are you comfortable?” he asked, his voice soft.

Iridelle nodded silently, her cheeks still flushed.

Alaric began by gently kneading her shoulders, his fingers working their way down her neck and back. He could feel the tension in her muscles, the stiffness from hours of working over the artifact.

“Just relax,” he murmured, his voice soothing. “Let your body go limp.”

As he spoke, he subtly activated his Heart’s Whisper skill, imbuing his words with a gentle magical influence. The words were simple instructions, things one might normally say during a massage, but they were now being etched into Iridelle’s mind, becoming key words that Alaric could use to influence her in the future.

“Let your shoulders relax,” he whispered, his fingers gently pressing into her tense muscles. “Let your neck go loose. Let all the tension drain away.”

Iridelle felt a wave of warmth wash over her as Alaric’s words entered her mind. She felt her body begin to relax, the tension melting away under his skilled touch.

Alaric continued his massage, his hands moving down her back, his fingers tracing the curves of her spine. He then began to massage her lower back, his hands gently pressing into the muscles of her buttocks.

As he did so, he subtly shifted his position, grinding his hardening member against Iridelle’s buttocks through her clothes. The rhythmic movements of his hips against her body sent shivers down her spine.

Iridelle’s mind was swimming in a sea of pleasurable sensations, the combination of Alaric’s skilled massage and the subtle magical influence of his words overwhelming her senses. She didn’t fully register the grinding of his member against her body, her mind too focused on the pleasurable sensations he was creating. Her hips started to move slightly, her body unconsciously responding to the rhythmic pressure.

Ulriya and Kara watched the scene with knowing smiles, their eyes twinkling with amusement. They knew their master’s intentions, and they knew that Iridelle was quickly falling under his spell. They decided not to disturb their master’s “work,” closing their eyes and feigning sleep.

Alaric continued his massage, his touch becoming more intimate, more demanding. He could feel Iridelle’s body relaxing further and further, her breathing becoming deep and even. He knew she was completely lost in the moment, her mind completely focused on the pleasure he was giving her.

After a while, he moved his hands back up to her shoulders, gently turning her over. Iridelle turned without protest, her eyes half-closed, a dazed expression on her face.

Alaric smiled down at her, his eyes filled with a predatory gleam. He began to massage her chest, his hands gently cupping her large breasts.

Iridelle gasped softly, her eyes widening slightly. She was now fully aware of his touch, the heat of his hands burning through her thin tunic. She wanted to protest, to tell him to stop, but the combination of the massage and the subtle magical influence of his words had weakened her resolve. She felt a strange sense of helplessness, a feeling that she couldn’t refuse him, that she was completely at his mercy.

Alaric continued his massage, his touch becoming more insistent, his fingers gently kneading her breasts. He could feel her nipples hardening beneath his touch, her breath quickening. He knew he was pushing her limits, but he also knew that she was enjoying it, that she was on the verge of surrendering completely to his desires.

He leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear. “Relax,” he whispered, his voice low and intimate. “Just let it go.”

He repeated some of the other key words he had implanted in her mind earlier, subtly reinforcing the magical influence. Iridelle’s body trembled slightly, her eyes fluttering closed. She was now completely under his control, her mind and body completely subservient to his will.

Alaric continued his massage, his touch becoming more intimate, more demanding. He explored every inch of her body, eliciting soft moans and gasps of pleasure. He knew that he could take her right there and then, that she wouldn’t resist. But he decided to wait, to savor the moment, to let the anticipation build. He wanted her to crave him, to desire him as much as he desired her.

He continued the massage until he felt that Iridelle was completely relaxed, her body limp and pliant beneath his touch. He then pulled away, his eyes lingering on her flushed face and her heaving chest.

“There,” he said, his voice soft and gentle. “I hope that helped.”

Iridelle opened her eyes slowly, her gaze meeting his. Her eyes were filled with a mixture of confusion and desire, her mind still reeling from the pleasurable sensations she had just experienced.

“Yes,” she murmured, her voice barely audible. “Thank you, Young Master Alaric.”

Alaric smiled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “You’re welcome, Iridelle,” he said. “Anytime.”

He then turned and walked over to his bed, lying down beside Ulriya and Kara. They were both feigning sleep, but he could feel their eyes on him, their bodies tense with anticipation.

He pulled them close, whispering softly in their ears. “It seems we have a new plaything,” he murmured, his voice laced with a hint of mischief.

Ulriya and Kara giggled softly, their bodies relaxing against his. They knew what their master meant, and they were both eager to share in his conquest.