Heleion Archives

Claraste emitted muffled grunts as she climbed the high stairs leading up to the castle the Black Roses own and use for logistical purposes in the south-western district high on a hill. Her shimmering golden hair parted over the other side protected her faux face from the early rays of the sun, while the braids on the shaved side tickled that side.

For a moment she stopped to catch her breath. She straightened her snow silvery collars that created a soft glow that enhanced her altered beauty even more. It was one of the reasons aetherna satin was so expensive on the market, as light from any source fell on it, it creates a colorless soft glow that wraps over the wearer’s skin and hair.

“Hey Earnait! Seems like you drank too much again.” A high elven clerk greeted her, with long platinum white hair, most of it tucked into a high bun, the rest let flow on the right side of her mesmerizing face.

“Morning…” She uttered while one hand was over her abdomen, the other held over her mouth as she burped, that resembled more of a mice burping rather than her.

“Told you. Better to have some modicum, at least on work days.” The high elf said as she lowered her hand holding the cigarette, the other patting Claraste’s back gently, sending waves of restorative arcane energies into her body. It made her feel a bit better, even though in reality she was fine. A bit tired after climbing almost two thousand steps.

“Thanks. I just wish we could use some of those full-recovery enchantments in these pieces.” Claraste said as she leaned onto the silvery rail, enjoying the tenderly cold wind blowing her dense hair and blouse collars.

“I mean you know how those work right? If we would have them, we couldn’t enjoy the positives either.” The high elf said with a soft chuckle as she rested her elbows besides Claraste. Her deep aquamarine eyes stared at the rising sun still mostly hidden by the mountains.

“And I guess that would soften us up more. Better to get poisoned thrice and learn from it rather than never learn to cope with it.” Claraste said as she was aware of the failed clothing line that was advertised for folks who just want to taste alcohol, but don’t want to get drunk. Which failed as Albion like many and all countries loves getting drunk more than tasting it. Even folks of the upper echelons.

“But I digress. Better to start early, so I can also sleep early today.” She stood back up after taking in a mouthful of the morning air, then bid farewell to the high elven clerk.

**

“Almost done.” Connie said as she leaned back in her chair, her arms encased in her pearly white blouse sleeves reached high. Mouth agape, as a yawn escaped while the Mirror-Screen blinded her deep blue eyes with white light.

For a moment, she looked around her office, and noticed the soft shadows surrounding her, settled on the deep mahogany furniture. Realization hit her, that once again she worked late into night, but instead of turning the golem machine off and head home, went for her personal coffee conjurer to refill her white mug with the simple runic text on it: Best Secretary!

Connie was one of the more overeager ones who decided to reach high through the non-violent paths. Young red head, possessing a vintage styled bob cut with an intense cherry red hue, while haven’t spent a second on a battlefield, still was a considerable mage of her own.

The rich aroma of the coffee freshened her up, the sound of coffee brewing was a sweet symphony to her ears. Her soft fair hands moved on their own accord, grabbing her sleeveless corset vest’s zipper and played around with them as she waited with a feeling of renewal as the steam warmed her ethereally gorgeous face.

“Yes?” She reflexively said as three knocks on the windowed ornate door brought her out from her momentary trance. Then she felt a bit uneasy as most of her Sisters usually left before the sun settled. With careful steps, she walked towards the door, the carpeted floor muffled her dragonid leather heels.

“Probably just my imagination.” As she opened the door, the dark empty corridor greeted her back. For a moment, she felt a bit terrified as hardened shadows moved, danced beyond the windows of the adjacent doors.

“Nrnchmhrrnnh” Her soft yelp echoed through the corridor, reaching even the stairs two turns away. Claraste clamped her gloved left hand over her lips and cheeks, while her right moved to her head, index and middle finger joint together as they dug deep into her cherry red hair, poking her temple. Rosy energies engulfed the two slender fingers, sending Connie into a deep sleep, and into Claraste’s muscled arms as she still wore Earnait’s face and form.

“Sweet dreams milady.” Then the very same hand that sent her to dreamland, tucked some of her hair that fell over her cheeks. Claraste couldn’t help herself, locked her faux lips onto Connie’s thick, soft lips covered in an intense peach hued one that enhanced its natural gloss even more so. She moaned as Claraste’s sweet tongue intertwined with hers’, just like in her current dream involving a petite dracorith.

“Back to business.” As Claraste pulled back, she dragged the unconscious secretary inside and laid her down at the right corner. She closed the door and swiftly started searching through the Personal Golem Machine.

“Got you.” After several minutes of going from tab to tab, she almost yelled in her joy. While pretending as others, even if it meant doing clerk job, was enjoyable to Claraste. But her least favorite part was doing the inspecting on these new machines. When these were first introduced a few hundred years ago, she almost blew her cover as she had little to no experience using these magicraft machines. She fared better now though.

Her eyes locked onto several folders, each bearing names familiar to her. Not names of people, but places. Wolvenstein Keep, Fort Raven Rock, Joy Island and finally Yomotau Complex. In each folder, she found at least four documents, each signed by someone going by A.F. Those two letters felt familiar to her, but as the light of day shone into her crimson eyes, she closed the last file after saving the mental image into her mind.

The one about Fort Raven Rock caught her attention the most. It was a complex in the southern region of the Epterrion Mountains surrounding Narieanth. According to the file, A.F and Hersith Xeniaera will visit in a matter of weeks to check on the progress they are making regarding ginnungryte applications for warfare.

“Hope we meet one day at better circumstances.” She whispered to the still unconscious Connie while lifting her into the chair, then placed her in a position that fitted someone who just fell asleep after overworking. By better she also meant mostly stripped and trussed up.

**

“Rmrmrhmmhmn?” Earnait let out a muffled mewl as the warm water engulfed her trussed up naked body. Claraste carefully placed her captive into the large bathtub, so large that even the almost titanic dragonkin could fit easily inside of them, with their legs and sometimes tails stretched.

“There. We wrap this around and wait. Also sorry about the braids, not sure how to unravel them.” Claraste said as she finished cleaning her. After finishing wrapping her hair in towel turban she stepped out from the bath as she felt the surge of arcane energies.

“How did it go?” The Lady in Scarlet asked as she sat in sofa right next to the one Earnait was bound to.

“Here. There wasn’t much problem. There was one secretary I think, but she will mostly think she fell asleep while working late into the night.” Claraste said as she deactivated the faux face. On the bed, she reached into her borrowed blouse’s breast pocket and took out her cigarette case.

“I see. It is the same signature that she showed us too. Any ideas?” She looked at Claraste who just puffed out a cloud of smoke that shifted into Earnait’s naked, dancing form.

“A few. But nothing solid at least until I meet with them.” She stated coldly to her superior.

“Then Fort Raven Rock is your next destination.” Before Claraste could protest a little, the Lady in Scarlet puffed away in a cloud of scarlet arcane energies.

“Damn it, I guess I better get some mountain climbing gear.” She muttered while looking at the pictures she inscribed onto a piece of paper. Photos from the file taken of Fort Raven Rock. Or to be precise of the large landing platform where at least five larger Flottirion’s are unloaded by Black Roses pulling enormous heavy coffins in front of themselves.

“But first. How should we do this?” Claraste walked back to the bathroom, and leaned closer the bound and sealing tape gagged Earnait. Her warm dark hands drawn across her well-muscled body.

Earnait let out soft moans as Claraste started kissing her neck tenderly while massaging her own vulva. “Now it’s my turn.” She whispered into Earnait’s slightly sharpened, exposed ear before her own lips locked onto the lip mark, she left behind yesternight.

**

4th of September, 107 NDE. Unspecified Location in the Eptirrion Mountains near the southern border.

Snow thickly blanketed the ground curving heavily into a slope. In its center, a path had been scorched, yet as snow fall heavily even in the early days of autumn, scorched grass and leaves from the nearby trees are hidden once again. Yet one could still make it out leading towards a lone, yet cozy cottage in the clearing.

It had a rich, deep birch hue with the logs neatly stacked and melded together with magic. At certain intervals, ornate windows looked out into edge of the slope with the edge completely veiled by the misty snow storm. Near the shack itself, a Magicraft Hover Vehicle was parked down in the snow, bearing the hauntingly mesmerizing insignia of the Black Rose. A northern rose that in appearance resembles a lotus flower, blooming with a lidless, mystique eye in its center.

Their metallic hull was coated in raven black paint, with stripes of snow silver framing the bottom, and where the door lies. While on the inside, it may appear rigid, the inside was just as cozy as the cottage’s, with oaken walls, deep red paint mixed gracefully with the oak’s natural, rich brown hue. Enchanted furniture including a long counter that was mostly empty in this MHV’s case, but during three or four day patrol’s there is usually a coffee-maker and a heating-golem. A table in the center where the Roses themselves can pass time with board games or books stacked in one of the inner storage rooms at the northern wall. A bit further from it, in the very same wall, beds could unfold from it in case the Roses get tired during longer patrols.

But, in that moment the MHV’s interior except for the previously mentioned furniture, was empty. A pair of footsteps led out towards the cottage, disappearing at its roofed ground balcony.

“NnngmFnngm” Inside the cottage, in the center of the large living area directly through the entrance, two Drengriars sat back to back in finely carved chairs. The sraudornian facing south with short white hair with two framing mass of curving strands, one caressing her coffee tanned cheek, the other framing her left eye with both part of the mauve reddish part of her hair on the lower end. In the center a simply fringe veiled her forehead.

“Silence honey, I’m not talking to you.” Claraste said in a calm manner as she leaned out a bit from the cover of the other drengriar. An umbral elf, with porcelain white skin, dark mesmerizing eyes with a wicked glow. Long shaggy hair that cascaded down onto her uniform clad shoulders.

She was dressed appropriately for the mission. A full body vhalex suit that possessed a high-gloss comparable to the Black Roses Dragonid Leather that fitted onto her athletic indigo body, and of course the borrowed crimson blouse of Aetherna Satin. Which’s collars protruded from under the suit’s neck, hidden by her platinum white, sharp bob style hair all within her agency sported. On the bottom, thigh high boots adorned her legs and feet, fitting for mountain tracking and infiltration.

Both of them were bound with their own enchanted rope Claraste borrowed after knocking them out. Two coils for each at the torso, one at their abdomen, the other framing their so-so bountiful breasts hidden under layers of glamorous uniforms. Their arms resting on the chair’s, rope binding them to it at the wrists and a bit from the joint where their sleeves fold without a single crease. Their legs in a similar state, slim brownish ropes keeping them tightly to the chair’s legs. For the sraudornian, a long strip of glistening black sealing tape covered her lips and cheeks, while for her umbral Sister, it hanged down from her left cheek, on the white side a dark lipstick mark.

“Now where were we? Oh yeah, the hidden hatch leading into the complex!” Claraste said as she grabbed the umbral elves’ sharp chin and pulled her head closer. Her dark eyes that gleamed with vigor and resistance, slowly shifted into a submissive look.

“It is a few kilometers to the north.” She said in her whispery, rough voice.

“Need more than that you know honey?” Claraste said as she fiddled with her jacket’s rolled down neck’s snow silver framed tips.

“There is a single dhautrian tree, you will find the hatch hidden under spell and snow north west from it. Just three or four steps away actually.”  She said as her face lit up, as she remembered once during her patrol in the pathway, she went up to check up the scenery out of curiosity.

“I see. Thanks for your honesty.” Claraste said as she folded back the hanging tape, sealing her pretty mouth once more. As a reward, her left hand slipped into her pants, and sent an arcane jolt through her vulva. The umbral elf let out a muffled yelp as her cheeks blushed a little, her eyes shot wide for a moment as her body twitched. An unbearable, but pleasant warmness spread and she started struggling against the torrent of pleasures, including her vulva being vibrating on its own.

“PHhm'mmcnm” The sraudornian gulped as she felt her Sister jitter in her binds while her moans intensified. A slight envy and regret formed within her, as realization hit that she will spend who knows how long bound and gagged.

“Should have spilled the beans when you had the chance.” Claraste noticed this and said with a smug. “Maybe next time.” She added while leaning closer, and whispered into her ears. Her spicy, peachy charming scent making it even worse for the sraudornian. Her words laced with a spell, that will make these two forget her face as soon as they fell asleep.

“Well, I better leave. Ladies!” As she headed out, she turned back at the door and gently bowed and left to traverse through the storm and snow covered forest before the other’s notice these two missing.