The world woke slowly with the first shafts of sunlight tickling skin as they slipped through the thin seams of the tent. The air inside was warm, rich with the scents of bodies, skin, sweat… and the sweet aftertaste of a night that had turned everything over.
Kano opened his eyes.
At first, he understood nothing. He simply stared upward, not moving. His heart beat slow and deep. Warmth pressed on him from every side. Not a sheet. Not a blanket. People.
Women.
He tried not to breathe, afraid he might wake them.
Carefully, turning his head the slightest bit, Kano looked left. There, in the soft light seeping through the tent wall, slept Lianel. Half-turned toward him, lips half-parted, one knee resting over his thigh. Her long hair fell in waves across the pillows, and the leather bands that had clung to her body in the night now dangled loosely, revealing her breasts, her belly, her hips. Her breathing was even, calm. She looked… alive, real, with no mask of a proud elf.
On the right—Selina. Her body was tucked tight against him like a cat seeking safety. Her cheek rested on his shoulder, her hand on his abdomen. Her mouth lay softly open. Hair scattered, face serene, untroubled. On her white-as-snow skin lingered traces of the night—faint crimson specks and the shadow of satisfaction in a half-smile.
And above him…
Directly above him lay Naira.
His head pressed to the warmth of her belly. She seemed to be holding him from above, shielding him with her body. Her enormous breasts hung just over his face—rising and falling slowly with her breath. They nearly grazed his hair. In the morning light he saw shadows play over her nipples, saw how gently her skin shone with sweat, how the gold of the patterns on her body flickered like flame.
Her hand rested on his chest—large, warm, covering nearly all of his heart.
And it felt as if it beat now only beneath her palm.
Kano couldn't move.
"I… am trapped. The sweetest trap in the world…"
He shut his eyes.
His body ached—pleasantly, deeply, spent. But most of all something tightened in his chest. Because in his head there was only one thing:
"This… isn't a dream."
Nothing could smell like this, breathe like this, lie on him like this in a dream. This was real. And in this reality he had…
…made love to three women.
And they… hadn't left. They were still here.
"Damn…"
He felt shame. Joy. Responsibility.
Harmony.
And fear.
Fear of ruining it, losing it, not being worthy.
His hand brushed Selina's fingers. She shivered in her sleep—and her smile deepened.
He almost laughed. Quietly. Inside.
"Am I… happy?"
Listening to their breathing, Kano closed his eyes again.
As if he feared that if he opened them—everything would vanish.
But instead he felt…
…the rise of Naira's chest. Her warmth.
Lianel's softness on his thigh.
The whisper of Selina's skin against his shoulder.
And then…
He simply lay there.
And he knew: "This isn't a coincidence. It's… a beginning."
Kano stayed still, drinking in every drop of this calm. His heart didn't yet know how to behave—now pausing, now racing. But there was one word pulsing in him: "real."
Lianel moved first. She curled like a cat, arched her back in languid ease, and sighed softly. The leg draped over Kano's thigh slid down, and her hand brushed his stomach.
—"Mmm…" — she murmured in her sleep, —"I thought it was a dream…"
Kano meant to say something, but didn't have time—Selina stirred beside him. Her face suddenly flushed, and she hastily pulled a sheet over her chest, though the cloth teased more than it hid.
—"Oh…" — she whispered, —"I… I'm still here… And you are too…"
Lianel laughed softly.
—"Yes, you didn't run. And it seems our hero didn't either…"
—"I… won't run," — Kano said quietly. —"But I still think some magical dream woke me."
—"No," — Naira cut in, her voice low and deep like a drum. She had woken without moving, but the hand on Kano's chest came alive again, embracing him. —"It wasn't magical. It was… real."
Kano lifted his head a little. Naira's massive breasts loomed over him, heaving with her breath. He smiled—and immediately blushed.
—"I… I don't know what to say. I'm not… used to waking like this. And…" — he faltered, —"I don't know how to act after…"
—"After a night when you made three women feel loved?" — Lianel narrowed her eyes. —"Just don't pretend it didn't happen. And smile."
—"Exactly," — Selina laid her head on his chest. —"We don't know what to say either. And that makes it even more beautiful."
Naira rose slowly, her body unfolding above them all—and she bent to Kano, kissing his forehead for the first time that morning.
—"Good morning, chieftain."
—"The best morning of my life," — he whispered.
—"No wonder," — Lianel snorted. —"You don't see a pair like that hanging over you every day."
Naira rolled her eyes but smiled. Her hand settled on Selina's shoulder—gentle, supportive.
—"Listen, girls…" — Kano began, but Selina cut him off.
—"No. We don't regret it. Not a minute. Not a touch. Not a glance."
He felt something tighten inside.
—"I just… I'm afraid I'll mess something up. That… I won't be worthy of you."
—"Hush," — Lianel whispers, placing a finger to his lips. —"Don't say foolish things while we're still warm."
Naira smiled—and lowered herself again, wrapping him from above.
—"If this is a dream…" — Kano whispered, —"…don't wake me. But it feels like I'm already awake."
And then all three of them… hugged him at once.
Kano laughed. Cleanly. For the first time in a very, very long while.
He closed his eyes—and simply was.
Amid tenderness. Amid warmth. Amid women who had chosen him.
Kano sat up slowly, pulling the sheet over part of his body. His gaze slid over the girls—all three were smiling, happy, a little tired, but calm. No one wanted to be the first to get up.
—"You're incredible," — he breathed.
—"We know," — Lianel answered with a sly wink.
—"And you, Kano…" — Selina added softly. —"You're incredible too."
—"I… I'll be right back," — he muttered, scooped up the clothes strewn across the floor, and, trying not to trip, slipped out of the tent.
The light struck his eyes. Morning was breathing in full now: the sky was brightening, the fresh air filling with sound. Orcs bustled around the camp—some cleaning weapons, some already cooking breakfast over the fire, some, noticing Kano, grinning meaningfully.
—"Oh, our chieftain is awake!" — one called, unable to hide his smile. —"And it seems he's not alone!"
—"Shut it, fool," — another snorted. —"Today he's holier than the goddess of fertility herself."
—"Go on—say stronger too!" — a third added.
Kano gave an awkward smile but kept silent. He walked barefoot, shirt in hand, feeling every touch of earth.
"I should say something. Do something. Act like a leader. And I… can't even get dressed properly."
He stopped by the spring, crouched, dipped his hands into the water and splashed his face. The coolness ran over his skin, mingling with the heat of what he felt inside.
"I don't know who I've become. But I'm definitely not the guy who used to be afraid of slimes. This… is new. This is—me."
He lifted his eyes to the sky.
"I didn't ask for this. But… if fate gave me a chance, I have no right to waste it."
The sky was clear, deep. Birds wheeled high above. And in that moment Kano smiled.
Not because of the night. Not because of the women.
But because, for the first time in his life, he felt needed.
He pulled on his shirt, buckled his belt, and squared his shoulders.
He didn't look like a hero now, but like… a real man.
And right then he heard soft footsteps behind him. One of the girls, probably, had come out…
The tent still held Kano's warmth when he left. In the air lingered the fine trace of yesterday's fire, of skin, and of gentle weariness.
Silence settled. Not cold—cozy, even. Three women lay there, each in her own thoughts. For the first time all night… without him.
Lianel spoke first. She sighed, stretched, arched, and said:
—"Well, if someone has to start this conversation—it's me."
Selina flushed at once and tugged the blanket up to her chin.
—"I… I don't know if we can even… say this out loud."
—"Did you think we were all going to pretend it was just a group meditation session?" — Lianel snorted. —"Believe me, talking about a first time is much easier than living through it."
Naira rolled onto her back. Her breasts rose heavily, and the golden patterns were already rubbed away in places.
—"You know… I never thought I'd say this, but… it wasn't like what they told me. And nothing like in the bards' songs."
—"Because songs are metaphors," — Lianel answered with a smile. —"Real feelings are much… gentler. And truer."
Selina sat cross-legged, trying to look calm. But that same night still lived in her eyes.
—"When… when he entered me… it hurt at first. And I was scared. But he was so tender… that I…"
—"Melted into it," — Lianel finished for her. —"That's normal. The first time you don't receive pleasure of the body. You receive permission to trust. And that's much deeper."
Selina nodded. Naira pushed herself up and sat opposite.
—"It was my… first time too," — she confessed. —"And honestly? I thought I'd be stronger. That I'd keep everything under control. But when he touched me… I almost cried."
—"Because he wasn't afraid of you," — Lianel said softly. —"And that's what you've feared all your life, isn't it?"
Naira lowered her eyes. Her fingers traced the blanket, sketching something invisible.
—"Yes. For the first time someone saw in me not strength… but simply—a woman. A body you want to caress, not fear."
Selina reached out and touched her.
—"We were all afraid. But he… gave us the chance to be ourselves. Without shame."
—"And you know what was most beautiful?" — Lianel said, smiling slightly. —"Each of us… was different. And each of us—received something of her own from him."
—"You looked… like ice beginning to thaw," — Selina said.
—"And you—like snow touched by sun for the first time," — Lianel replied.
Naira rose, stretched—and gathered them both into her arms. Her embrace was big, warm, strong.
—"You're mine. And he—he's ours too. Not as a prize. As a heart we've all touched."
Quiet filled the tent.
Then Lianel added softly:
—"If anyone is going to change this world, it'll be the one who taught three such different women… to be happy at the same time."
They smiled. They didn't yet know what would come next. But they knew for certain—the night hadn't been a mistake. It had been the birth of something real.