Heleion Archives

17th of November, 105 of the Neo-Dawn Era.

            “Mrrn.” The fist sensation – the pleasant chilling caress of her ripe plum hued collars on her soft cheeks with sharp cheekbones. As Fridryl eyes slowly opened, it was also the first sight to an extent, looking down at her chest tightly bound – by silver sealing tape – down to her abdomen veiling her corset vest and the blouse under it.

“Mrrnmr.” The second sensation – a worse from the previous as her arms bent behind the chair she was sat on. While most her Sisters preferred to keep the corset vest sleeveless – in this moment she kind of felt relieved she diverges from them in this small thing. Thick layers of sealing tape looped around and between her wrists, her elbows and the area just above them. For extra measures – which caused the further pain – mana ties of not her Orders’ making kept pressed them even together, snuffing the little possibility of freedom even further.

“Mrrnmhh.” The third sensation came from her the bottom area – the same aching with a small difference. The source, the bindings keeping her thighs and ankles secured. With her thighs even enjoying a second looping of myriad layers of sealing tape keeping them firmly to the seating of the chair.

“Mrrnr.” The fourth sensation was her dark red hair being undone in that moment – when the world was still a faraway blur for her. As the layers fell after freed from their bonds, they gently caressed her sealing tape covered cheeks, then moved into a perfect mess – something many envied from the Black Roses.

“Mrrnr mrrnnng mrrnmr.” The fifth was a sudden rush of freshness – as cold air entered from one of the nearby windows on her right. It helped sharpening the shadows and the outline laid out in front of her – Birthingriar’s lifeless body hung by his neck, blood still flowed from his eyes as he tenderly swinged on the right, Synne upside down on the left with bone bulging out from under her soft skinned neck between her collars.

“Mrrnr hhm mrrnmhh.” The final was the sudden rush of fear the chilled her from top to bottom. And as suddenly it came it went by and disappeared as a calmness settled in its place.

“Good. You’re finally awake.” A familiar voice entered her ears as she noticed the chair placed a few meters from her. Then the source of the voice appeared – a sraudornian Sister of hers with light beige complexion, faint elvish features on a gorgeous face and thick, shoulder length hair with the a vibrant black-brownish hue.

“Mrhrmrn.” Even though she felt completely powerless – Fridryl toiled in her bindings even as they watched with a pleasant, satisfied look.

“I’m not going to lie. I expected better from both you and from them.” They pointed at the hanging corpse of Birthingriar. “But still, both of you chose to seek glory on your own instead of joining up in your arrogance.” Their face turned slightly sour.

“Hrcch mrr!” Fridryl weakly lurched forward hoping to threaten her captor.

“And I’m not saying this just because he interrupted my little ritual. I almost fucked up this new face of mine.” Fridryl went silent as she swinged her right hand to the side – mimicking a slap that was followed by her head pushed onto the right side of her folded collar with an intense pain following in her left cheek.

“But not all is lost thankfully. I had enough time before you two arrived. And we have enough time to talk a little. Ask and I shall answer.” Fridryl looked at her with her right sharp brow slightly tilted upwards. “Also don’t worry – let’s just say I can perfectly understand you even without peeling your gag off.”

“Mhr rrm mrr?” After a few seconds of silence – to just gain sometime hoping for cavalry to already notice their long absence – Fridryl asked.

“Oh going straight for that first huh?” A faint smile curved onto their lips as if they understood her muffled mewl perfectly. “Well, no one of importance. Next question.”

“Hhrh nhn'h rn rnhmmr.” Fridryl looked at her questioningly once more as her words came out as a long muffled moan.

“Next question.” This time they said in a cold and slow manner as their chilly stare pierced into Fridryl.

“Hnnm. Mhm hrrgmh hrrm crmhrmchnrnmn mrmmn rnn rh?” She let out a sigh in resignation – hoping that she bought enough time for herself for now – then fired her next question just as slowly.

“That is a good one. Well why would I target pale complexioned folks. I mean the answer is simple – contrary to what you want to believe probably.” They looked down for a minute and said in a tone akin to a proud parents’ hearing the question. “Because we’re in the north. When I will reach the south, I’ll reap sol elves and the feyfolk with the warm tones we associate with the south and the sun that offers its cruel warmth to us.” Hearing those words total confusion filled Fridryl.

“Oh almost forgot. What a bad worshipper am I. It’s also because that what my God wanted.” The real answer – for Fridryl – came out from them similar when a children just remembered their actual reasoning for doing something stupid.

“Hhrh mrchmh mrrm hmnhm.” Fridryl fidgeted a little, hoping to loosen the bonds binding her arms – with no success.

“Anyway, last question.” Then they said while lighting a cigarette.

“Mhm?” Fridryl stared into her cold, emotionless eyes – once again trying to buy some time – then muttered through her tight gag.

“Such a simple one for last? Or is it simple…” At first their cold expression lit up with surprise then shifted into uncertainty.

“Nrn'h hrchm mnhh mm nrm.” Fridryl squirmed in her bindings as frustration slowly filled her.

“Just joking. A really grim one – but just joking. Truth is I just wanted to force change in the status quo of the north. You must admit that it’s not healthy when the two of you gobble up all the other forces of the north, the power it is terrifying once you realize what will happen once the queen passes away. A civil war that could reach the heights of the Great War.” As she started, their cold expression returned. She spoke each of those words with cold precision, meticulousness.

“That is why I left some gifts to the newspapers. Don’t worry it won’t destroy your precious order.” They slowly raised from the chair and stretched their arms out.

“Now time to wrap up, I think. Don’t worry, death is sudden.” Fridryl kept her cool even as they walked behind her – the cold barrel of their wand pistol pressed against her temple.

“Puff.” They said.

**

“Keep those hacks at bait until our team clears the house.” Isobella said, the naurdian Thegrith - and superior of Fridryl and Synne- with a mature, battle-hardened appearance. Long fiery hair with indigo ends flowed naturally as the wind blew. Rich red, plump lips and sharp eyes – a scar running through the left.

She was clad in the Thegrieth Type-V coat. It reached down almost to her ankles, with the zipper only going down to her hipline. Like for the rest it had a utility belt with snow silvery frames, pockets at the chest and waist areas with her rose badge over the right, a name tag with her rank over the left. Her engraved name was framed by rose petal engraved into them – with runes engraved into each.

On the soft scaled shoulders her shoulder straps were ornamented with a thin snow silvery plate with a small dragon resting on each – their scales resembled petals of a northern rose. The neck itself consisted of one reaching halfway her neck while tilting outwards from which a slim cloak started, while the inner had a sharp, stiff triangle shape while also folded down into arches, framed and ornamented with two elegant rose buttons at the sharp tips.

“Yes, Milady!” The short raven black haired Vordriar yelled then disappeared. Isobella sighed as a morning headache started forming in her head from the constant yelling – both from her own Sisters, and from the locust like journalists from the various newspapers that got the stench of the house she faced.

The house where she sent Fridryl and one of the more promising Vordriars assigned under her command by Lythienne herself. It has been more than eight hours since they reported, yet with all the paper work of the recent weeks, month she fell asleep and only realized this while turning on her television – a recent invention of the dwarves.

“Let’s hope at least ours turn up not dead.” She murmured to herself as she watched the three Seidhaeths inside.

**

“Ground floor clear.” The dark elven with angled bob cut hair and light ebony complexion reported through their shared mindlink. All three of their eyes were framed by arcane energies as they inspected the same rooms as Fridryl.

Unlike her they moved on as soon as they seen them empty, heading straight for the stairs. “Someone’s still up. Maybe Fridryl.” When they reached the first steps, they started hearing bumps coming from up there, paired with muffled mewls.

“Shit.” The orc – who resembled more a gray skinned elf with small tusks behind her lower lip – exclaimed as they saw Fridryl bound and sealing tape gagged to the chair. A silken black scarf tied around her eyes while a small device clicked in her lap. Then…

**

“Your ticket please.” The ticket inspector’s voice brought their attention away from the little television built into the chair in front of them.

“Ah, yes sorry.” They smiled at the young appearing orii elven inspector – then reached into their fine suit’s pockets and handed him the ticket – a small magi crystal.

“Have a nice trip milady.” As it lit up softly the inspector gave an easy smile then moved on. Their attention focused back onto the magic mirror screen now showing their former home – burning in dark flames.