Peace for a Day

The Alcor cut through the last stretch of open water under clear skies.

Aether remained happily unaware of anything beyond the deck and the women already sharing it with him. The pride had settled into a rhythm that actually worked for once — rotations measured enough that no one collapsed from pure overuse, yet frequent enough that the white flames under his skin never had to burn without an outlet. Beidou and Dehya recovered from their dual session and rejoined the cycle. Ningguang stayed soft and pliant for hours after her public ruin, occasionally drifting back for more with glassy eyes and open legs. Hu Tao and Yanfei proved durable enough to take longer turns without folding in under three minutes. The ordinary sailor girls continued to last only long enough to be pleasant distractions before they were gently set aside, trembling and dripping.

It was, by the standards of the last several months, almost sustainable.

Days blurred. The isolated shape of the Easybreeze archipelago finally rose on the horizon — pale beaches, green interior slopes, the low white structures of the resort itself catching the afternoon light. Mualani pointed it out with an easy grin from the bow. The pride gathered along the rail to watch the distance close, packs already half-ready, moods light with the promise of actual beds, actual privacy, and several consecutive days without a crisis demanding they move on before anyone had finished recovering.

Aether leaned on the wood beside Rosaria, the new silver ring cool against his arm where she stood close, and felt the rare, simple satisfaction of having nowhere urgent to be. The Flame of Passion still hummed under his skin, steady and content for the moment. He had his women, a stretch of open calendar, and a resort that existed for no higher purpose than comfort and pleasure. For the first time since he had woken in that hypersexual parody of Teyvat, the road ahead looked quiet.

He had no way of knowing the quiet was already an illusion.

The moment the transport boats grounded on the pale sand, Aether felt the shift in the air.

Easybreeze was warmer than Mondstadt or Liyue, yet gentler than the dry blaze of Sumeru or the volcanic edge of Natlan. Soft heat, steady breeze, the low rush of clear water against the shore. The resort buildings sat further back among green slopes and low white walls, looking exactly as advertised: expensive, private, and designed for people who had nowhere urgent to be.

Ningguang’s preparation became obvious the instant they reached the open-air pavilion set aside for their group. An entire portable rack of swimwear waited under light canvas — every cut, color, and deliberately insufficient style a high-end boutique could produce. The Tianquan, still soft-eyed and thoroughly used from the voyage, simply gestured at the collection and told the women to take whatever they wanted.

Aether settled onto a low lounge chair and watched.

The process took the better part of an hour and was, in its own way, better than most of the sex he had had on the ship. Women changed in the open into scraps of fabric that seemed to exist only to emphasize how little they covered. Thin side-ties, microscopic triangles, straps that looked ready to give up at the first deep breath. Some of the pride tried three or four options, turning slowly so he could see the difference, clearly enjoying the attention. Others examined the rack once, shrugged, and decided the local custom of simple nudity suited them better.

In the end the group split without drama.

A few chose the barely-there swimsuits — outfits that were more carefully arranged string than actual cloth, leaving breasts, hips, and the full curve of an ass framed rather than hidden. The rest simply stayed nude, comfortable in the warm air and the knowledge that no one at this resort would find it remarkable. Aether found himself unable to decide which was more effective. The nude bodies were open, familiar, and immediately available. The ones who had chosen strings somehow looked even more deliberately sexual, every small shift of weight threatening to undo a knot or let a soft breast slip free.

(https://im.ge/i/QMJNnE6) (https://im.ge/i/QMJNJDz) (https://im.ge/i/QMJNvMS)
(artist: queasyS)

He kept watching while the final choices were made, white flames flickering low and content under his skin, already certain that the vacation had started exactly the way a Passion Claimer preferred: surrounded by women who were either naked or so close to naked that the difference was mostly philosophical.

"both, ... both is good."