With the shadow clone vanquished and the last traces of darkness purged from Elysara, the world seemed to breathe easier. Sunlight felt warmer, flowers bloomed brighter, and the twin moons shone with untainted silver and crimson.
Ethan's court had settled in Aeloria for a season of recovery and celebration. Pregnancies now numbered over one hundred and fifty—bellies rounding across every realm as word of the true Breeder's victory spread. Vaeloria, the towering silver-haired Amazon goddess, had become his most visible consort: seven feet of radiant muscle and curve, her enormous tits a constant, proud reminder of redemption. She walked at his side during public blessings, submissive yet protective, her presence silencing any lingering doubt.
Yet the prophecies were clear: one thousand daughters were needed to fully restore balance. And Elysara still held realms untouched by his seed.
One morning, as Ethan lay in the grand pavilion surrounded by a tangle of satisfied women—Rowan curled against his chest, Vaeloria's massive thigh draped over his legs, Thora and Brynja snoring softly with their pregnant bellies pressed to his back—a shadow crossed the sun.
A delegation descended from the sky.
They came on wings of living cloud and shimmering light—ten women of the Aether Spires, the legendary sky-islands that floated high above the clouds. No one from the surface had seen them in generations.
They were breathtaking.
Tall and lithe, with skin in shades of pearl, ivory, and soft gold. Hair flowed in impossible colors—platinum, sky-blue, rose-gold—moving as if stirred by constant wind. Their bodies were slender yet curvaceous: high, firm breasts that defied gravity, narrow waists flaring into toned hips and long legs. They wore almost nothing—wisps of cloud-silk that floated around them like mist, revealing glimpses of smooth, hairless pussies and pert asses.
At their head floated Lady Aeloria—namesake of the city below, though far more ethereal. Her hair was pure white-gold, eyes the color of storm clouds, wings of translucent light folding behind her back.
She bowed mid-air before landing gracefully on the pavilion floor.
"Breeder of the Surface," she said, voice like wind chimes. "We have watched from above. Your light has cleansed the shadows. The balance shifts. We come to offer alliance—and to receive your blessing."
The other sky women landed behind her, eyes wide with curiosity and desire as they took in Ethan's naked form and the satisfied women around him.
Vaeloria rose to her full height, silver hair cascading, huge tits swaying as she stepped protectively forward. "The sky realms remained neutral during the darkness. Why come now?"
Aeloria met her gaze without fear. "Because the prophecies speak of one thousand daughters to secure the world forever. Our spires have borne no children in centuries—our magic sustains us, but not life. We need his seed."
She turned to Ethan, dropping to one knee—cloud-silk parting to reveal her perfect, smooth pussy glistening in the morning light.
"We offer our bodies, our magic, our loyalty. In return, come to the Aether Spires. Bless us all."
Ethan felt his cock twitch and harden at the sight—ten flawless sky women, bodies built for flight and pleasure, waiting for him.
Rowan squeezed his hand, grinning. "You have to go. Think of all those high-altitude pussies waiting to be filled."
Vaeloria, ever submissive now, pressed her massive breasts against his back. "I will accompany you, my love. My strength will keep you safe in the clouds."
Thora and Brynja nodded, already reaching for their armor.
That very day, preparations began. The sky women summoned a living cloud chariot—large enough for Ethan and his core guardians. As it lifted them into the heavens, the surface world fell away below: green valleys, glittering lakes, distant villages waving farewell.
Higher they rose, through layers of mist into the realm of endless sky.
The Aether Spires appeared—floating islands of crystal and cloud, connected by bridges of solid wind. Waterfalls poured upward into rainbow mists. Gardens of floating flowers bloomed in impossible colors.
Hundreds of sky women awaited them—each more beautiful than the last, bodies toned and curvaceous, cloud-silk barely covering firm tits and smooth cunts.
Lady Aeloria led Ethan to the central floating palace, a structure of living crystal open to the endless blue.
That night, under a sky full of stars closer than any surface dweller had ever seen, the blessing began.
Aeloria claimed him first—straddling him on a bed of cloud that molded perfectly to their bodies. Her pussy was impossibly tight and warm, walls fluttering as she sank down his shaft with a gasp of delight.
Around them, her sisters watched or joined—hands caressing, mouths kissing, tits pressing against his skin as Aeloria rode him to a shattering climax, his cum flooding her womb in thick spurts.
One by one, then in pairs and trios, the sky women took him—weightless, floating sex that defied gravity. Pussies gripping his cock mid-air, bodies spinning slowly as he thrust deep and came again and again.
Vaeloria watched with proud submission, her huge tits heaving, waiting her turn to join and remind the sky women who his queen truly was.
By dawn, dozens of sky bellies glowed faintly with the first spark of life.
And Ethan knew: the Aether Spires would add hundreds to his count.
The journey to one thousand Mystics slowly getting there.