Heleion Archives

16th of November, 105 Neo-Dawn Era.

            “Almost two weeks and nothing.” Birthingriar said in an almost complaining manner as he gulped down his drink. His face contorted slightly as the spicy beer flowed down towards his stomach.

“Well, that could be a good sign. Our efforts within our Orders’ did their job.” Fridryl said with a sour look as she tenderly circled her drink within her glass. The two were mildly intoxicated at the end of their days.

“By the way, did your search resulted in anything?” Birthingriar asked recalling Fridryl going back to the alley with him almost two weeks ago.

“Nothing. Well beside the possibility that they use some kind of potion that not just increases their mana capacity, magical power but also veils magical residue somehow.” She said while averting her gaze onto the bottom of the waiter behind the counter.

“If they managed to make one – they could be a great asset to both of our Orders. Have you reported this to your superiors?” Birthingriar asked while finishing his spicy beer.

“Haven’t yet. Planned to, but then as I got the files on whom they possibly impersonated, I just couldn’t. I want them dead if I’m being honest.” Fridryl said now with a frown that slowly shifted into a menacing, but still alluring expression.

“If you do find them before me – don’t forget to call me.” As he noticed his empty bottle, Birthingriar pondered a bit, but decided against ordering another. He lifted his finger to pay then left to rest through the night. After a few more minutes, Fridryl grabbed her issued coat, then headed out to continue her hunt.

**

Fridryl stood on the empty streets, just a few steps away from the southern entrance of the Lidaerith Park. A deep, enveloping silence blanketed the street, only the occasional shriek of the wind between the houses and when it hit her leathery long coat with a tender aggressiveness could be heard.

Even with all the warm hued buildings – a chill ran down her spine for a moment as she looked at the ground. A constant feeling of being watched ran across her being, she constantly resisted the desire to look around, behind herself.

But she stood her ground and watched the ethereal footprints appearing in her vision, all leading to hundreds of different directions. As seconds, minutes passed by, the ethereal footsteps started to lessen in numbers until only one remained matching with the designated patrol route the vordriars take into the park. One that felt like was left behind years ago by Ermelindemar – one of the missing Vordriars as it turned out after two weeks of investigations.

At first, they just thought she got moved to another city or even one of their bases – but the more they inquired the more it became reality that the elderly elf got taken and now more than likely is beside their Goddess.

After another few minutes of walking she arrived to where the steps suddenly turned around but stayed in place. She reached into her right waist pocket and pulled out a mana potion she gulped down instantly. Her mana coursed through her whole body – creating a warm, pleasant feeling that snuffed out the chill that gripped her spine.

The arcane light framing her graceful eyes swirled ever more intense as she hoped to see another pair of footsteps of different – darker hue. She slowly exerted more and more of her mana until finally another appeared behind Ermelindemar’s.

“Got you!” She silently exclaimed with her smooth, gleaming lips bending upwards in a slight joy. She also noticed the residue of a portal being opened, and a line following the darker footsteps concluding that Ermelindemar was dragged through one after either being knocked out or paralyzed.

“Now, let’s see where you had taken them.” She muttered while holding her palm over the residue of the portal. A white light emitted from her palm and information slowly flowed into her mind – creating a route that slowly led towards the southern outskirts of the city. Her smile curved even harder this time.

**

“Oh Fridryl! Have you spoken to Isobella too?” Bayarmchiur asked as she noticed Fridryl in a hurry with a young naurdian Vordriar in two.

“Yeah. We’ve made progression. Hopefully before them.” Fridryl said as she stopped to covertly catch her breath.

“I see. Then don’t just stop here. Go catch em.” Bayarmchiur offered her a friendly smile while grabbing her mug of coffee and sipped into it.

“Will do. Hope for Her blessing.” Fridryl said as she continued on after gesturing to the vordriar accompanying her. They watched the two disappear in the turn, then they headed back down the stairs into the coroner’s room.

“What a busy night it is. Am I right?” They slowly sat down in front of the desk, arms stretched as a yawn escaped their mouth. With their head turned towards the storage area’s door, two soft bangs came through it, and a cold smile curved onto their lips. Faint, muffled cries hoped to seep through the door, but the thick wooden structure never relented.

**

“Wouldn’t it be faster if both of us went in?” Synne who got assigned to her by order of the Thegrith asked as they sat in the magicraft patrol car.

Synne was a relatively young Vordriar reaching only the end of her first hundreds, sporting a shoulder length deep silver hair parted over to the right side where it flows down with a natural straightness. Her eyes shimmered with a bit of anxiety combined with her sense of duty and discipline. Her issued Vigrieth jacket zipped up completely – unlike the covertly overexcited Fridryl who left her coat on the back seat.

“It will be. They’re probably not here, but just in case if I don’t return in half an hour – report back to Thegrith Isobella.” Fridryl said while her gaze remained on the empty appearing old building.

Just like all the other houses in the capital, the walls were painted in a bright and warm red color. The windows framed with a mahogany painted oak while the windows themselves were simply there to filter the northern light so it doesn’t blind when looking through them from the inside.

The garden at the front itself was quite small, separated by the pavement leading towards the ornate wooden door. On both sides said pavement was framed by blossoming bushes – petals of a strange kind that swallowed what little light fell on them from the street lamps. As she looked at them, she got even more confident that this was the place where they took their Sisters.

“Fine. Half an hour.” Synne’s voice brought her out from her mild trance as both got out from the patrol car. Fridryl slowly nodded her head, and headed towards the door.

“Great. You were so close to it Synne.” She muttered to herself as she leaned onto the car’s back compartment while reaching into her left breast pocket. As its end lit up, she took one last look towards the Fridryl’s back before the door – that were left unlocked – opened by itself and the hard shadows swallowed her elegant, eye-inviting form.

“Or now is my chance.” Minutes later as she reached the end of her cigarette, she heard faint footsteps in the snow coming from the left side of the house – blanketed in hard darkness. Her hand moved to her wand pistol and while pointing at the shadows, she slowly approached where the sound continued on.

“You can do it.” With a soft whisper, she parted her doubts and fear and stepped into the shadows without conjuring a mage light. It took her eyes a while to get used to the blinding darkness. As a chilling bit into her, her breathing quickened, her heart wanted to burst out then it suddenly slowed down when she noticed the little dog playing with its tail at the back garden.

“Hrmrhm nr.” A sigh escaped her plump lips before their gloved hands clamped over them. A muffled yelp escaped her as she got dragged in to the darkness once more – then a snap and silence followed as the dog dissipated.

**

As she stepped inside and the shadows enveloped her fair form, Fridryl felt a bit of relief. An end to this case seemed so close – coming with her promotion too. She lifted her right hand up and a white sphere emitting an almost blinding light appeared a few meters above it. It hovered over her shoulders, parting the shadows in the welcoming hallway of the home.

A strange feeling followed her relief as the place looked nothing like her head. But for a third time a stench all too familiar for her assaulted her nostrils as she reached the first two doorways facing each other on her sides. She followed the scent itself into the left room and gasped at the sight.

“You fucking asshole.” Was all she muttered at the sight of the three corpses. Two were clad in the hard leather uniform of the Bhahamuthians while the third – Birthingriar – laid at the wall with all light faded from his eyes. A small hole in each of their heads and a faint void residue of a paralyzing curse lingered over their cadavers.

“At least now I know this is the place – and of the possible traps.” She muttered to herself as her eyes enveloped in arcane energies. After inspecting for further traps she stepped inside the eerily almost empty room. Only a single cabinet were placed inside under the window facing the street.

“That idiot.” She noted to herself noticing Synne missing, but instead of going out to reprimand her, she decided to continue on. Before opening the cabinet, she checked once more for traps, then opened it. Inside she found nothing of noteworthy besides stacks of linen handkerchiefs. She quickly concluded that these must be to either incapacitate the victims.

Moving on she checked the adjacent room, but that was even emptier. Not even dust settled onto the floor so she continued towards the living room. In it, she was greeted by the meticulously placed furniture – a single sofa facing her, two cabinets framing the window looking at the back garden and a single circular rug of deep mauve and blue hues. Her hand raised up as she also noticed the faint paralyzing ward on the floor – with a weave she dissipated the spell meant for snoops and folks like her.

As she arrived to the stairs, the stench of death once again reached her nostrils. This time she held out her hands, moving her mana in preparation into the four arcane points in them. Slow creaks emitted from the stairs as she made careful steps, erasing the numerous wards placed on the upper steps.

Then as soon as she stepped off the final one – the stench that burnt her nostrils now disappeared in a blink of an eye. Unlike the lower levels the second floor was devoid mostly of walls – except for one behind the long table with the alchemical apparatus and numerous vials. Rope dangled from one of the support beams with a dark tarp under it. She quickly recognized dried blood and other bodily fluids being the cause of its darker hue as her face contorted while bile pervaded in her gut.

Before she moved on, she let out spell cleansing the whole second floor of possible wards. Her next destination was the table. While at first her attention focused on the apparatus and vials with some still filled with the strange and odorless poison – it quickly got drawn onto a single book.

It’s cover seemingly maid of tortured skin of humanoids and other folks. Skin that was now discolored to a dark, rotten mauve hue. On the front, a skeletal face with a gaping maw stared right back at her – its eyes wicked amethysts gleaming with an unnatural light. Yet no matter what she tried – whether be it physical force or a spell – the book remained closed.

After several more tries, she gave up and reached for a vial in her corset vest’s waist pocket. It quickly flowed down her throat then she continued refreshed magically.

Stepping into the wide room, she reflexively clamped her mouth and nostril – but stopped before pressing them closed. Facing her was a long and pristine white marble table – on it two corpses bulging out from the thin velvety sheets. An eerie feeling filled her as she was expecting the stench of death to assault her once more and even stronger this close to the source. But there was nothing, even the bile that would burn her stomach and throat as it headed to escape the boundaries of her body.

As she lifted the veil from the nearest, she stepped back as fear jolted through her body at the sight – the sight of a skinless, dried husk with two awfully familiar, large curving ram horns with cracks upon their once majestic surface. Before she could piece together the truth, pain coursed through her head, then darkness followed.