Lyra's Wet Dream About Her Dear Son

The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the evening sky with hues of orange and crimson. Iridelle Khysarel sat at her workbench, the flickering glow of enchanted lamps illuminating the blueprints spread before her. Her workshop was a cluttered haven of gears, magical components, and half-finished artifacts. The communication artifact she was designing at the behest of Young Master Alaric Steele consumed her attention. The intricate details of its design, revolutionary in concept, filled her with both awe and determination.

 

'If I can bring this to life,' she mused, her nimble fingers tracing the outline of the blueprint, 'it will change the way people communicate forever. Young Master Alaric truly has a vision unlike anyone else I've met.'