Heleion Archives

The large cafeteria area in the renovated sanatorium was bustling with life while Valeria sat at the counter. Her issued Vigrieth Type-IV Jacket rested on the back frame of the long-legged chair while she flicked her cigarette’s end gently into the tray. Then she lifted up her cup filled with Brogroot Tree, a tea made from the processed carcass of a Brog, possessing a bark like body with sweet syrup for blood also mixed with the tea. It was calming her soul and body, while warming the latter.

Valeria was a tall sraudornian native to Central Eoran, gifted with a light tanned tone, close to coffee filled majorly with milk. Her mid-length hair a much darker, close to pitch black, with her cobalt blue layered strands swooping backwards. Her once roundish eyes now reshaped into almond frames with a more intense dusk hued pupils, soft lines for brows, a straight small nose, high cheeks, triangular face and wide lips with glistening, soft texture.

“Hey how’s things with the new house?” As Valeria turned around sensing someone approaching, the sight of a fellow Eoranian greeted her. Skin as blue as the clear blue sky, white soft hair bundled in a high bun, almost resembling a cloud in the sky. Eyes like a birds, wide dark pupil in a frame of golden orange. Her face blessed and altered, possessing sharp, high cheeks like an elf, sharp perfectly even jawline and gleaming, soft cushion lips. An Iarmailtian folk called Cittes.

“Hey Cittes. Not bad, had to do some renovations, but it was mostly the enchantments. They were quite scuffed, but straightened the inscriptions out a bit, and now it is just as warm as back at Eoran.” Valeria said with a hearty smile as the two hugged each other.

“Still not used to the climate?” Cittes asked while ordering a cup of Black Grevinden coffee to herself.

“Slowly. I mean the constant snow is just as beautiful as the sand that spans back at home.” Valeria said while sliding her arcane blue blouse sleeves just up towards her elbows.  With her fingers tucked into her thick hair, she drops it over her imposing blouse collars.

“Don’t even say it. I’m missing the high towers of Ansirise. Looking walking on the bridge, waterfalls cascading to the below is one thing I’m missing nowadays.” Cittes said with a sigh. Her soft blue lips locked onto the edges of the white cup as she drank a little.

“We should visit that next time we return.” Valeria said as she envisioned the place. She heard about it previously, the high cities of Northern Eoran feature heavily in the fairy tales written for Central Eoran youth. She was no exception to this, her parents often bought books featuring warriors venturing into those cities, previously populated by feys.

“Well, it was nice talking. Have to start my shift on the lower levels.” Then within her mind, a soft ringing alerted her to the end of her break.

“What’s down there anyways?” Cittes asked with a slightly annoyed tone.

“Who knows honestly. The pay is good, so no reason to ask. Anyways, take care and see you at dawn.” The two exchanged kisses on their cheeks, before Valeria grabbed her issued jacket and disappeared between the tables all occupied by groups of three or four.

**

“Damn, I miss Thegrith Mion.” Valeria’s sigh echoed through the corridor, muffled by the footsteps produced by her dragonid leather knee-high combat boots. Her jacket’s pyramid shaped collar zipped up completely, yet with each of her heavy steps her blouse’s collars swished while following her patrol trail.

“I wish I’d stayed in Eoran.” She muttered while stopping in front of the mirrored glass on her right. She looked at her beautiful form reflected and zipped down her jacket’s neck letting the blouse collars spread a bit in their prison. To straighten the shoulder and neck part of the jacket, she gently smoothened her palms over their soft, leather like surface. It was a feeling akin to pulling them across the surface of shutter, a highly soft, yet durable shutter as at certain intervals her fingers bumped down on the sticking out layers. At least until she reached the scaled shoulder and forearm part where she tucked it a bit to fix the collar’s position a bit.

“Wait, is there someone inside.” She mumbled softly as while she was fixing the upper part of her uniform, she noticed the shadowy outline of a tall, petite figure inside through the glass. While one could look through them, and even see their reflection, it was still a mushy picture, so besides seeing someone in the Vordriar uniform like hers, she could not make out who.

“Let’s check it out. Better then continuing on in this haunted place.” She said while heading for the entrance door a bit further. It was widely known amongst those posted here that the sanatorium lost quite a few patients over its existence. Many whose soul allegedly still linger the halls and corridors at certain hours of the night. That made this job a bit better then patrolling the outskirts of the city where at best you run into some drunkard stumbling home.

“Wait, shouldn’t this be locked at all times, except if those artificers or clerks come in for something.” Then realization hit her as she recalled her first day here. During the first briefing they were informed that certain rooms on the below ground levels are off limits even to them. The only one with access to them are the non-combatants working here.

For this reason, her attitude changed a bit. A soft smile curved onto her lips as excitement spread within her within a second. Her right hand reached for the knob while the left for her wand pistol. She slowly opened the door and walked in with silent steps as mana flowed into her legs, headed into her combat boots, activating the enchantments muffling any noise a step would make.

“Shit.” After ten small steps into the shadow veiled large room, an orange glow emanated from the ground revealing runes in a circle formation right around her. She tried to jump in, but the arcane tendril wrapped themselves around her completely, stiffening her whole body. Then they dissipated within seconds while she remained in the same posture with one arm holding the wand pistol at her legs, the other reaching for the now closed door.

Her eyes darted left to right, searching while only a soft whisper of a moan came from her slightly open mouth. Then she felt as an arm wrapped around her neck, that hurt and felt comfortable at the same time. The former because Brittya’s arm tightened as she tightened it quite hard, even for her. The latter because her aetherna satin blouse’s cold, cuddling surface tickled her gently, while the soft sound of faux leather pressing on faux leather aroused her a bit in that moment, to her hidden shame.

Another arm slithered over, and a hand clamped over her mouth and nose blocking the air going in and out. The shadowy world slowly faded into an even swallowing darkness as Brittya shushed at the groaning Valeria while lowering her now not so stiff body.

“Let’s take care of you too Sister.” She said in a playful, somewhat tired tone as she searched through her pockets, taking the bindings from her pouch. Then her arms slipped under her armpit and she dragged her further into the room to the left where a row of file cabinets already served as a hiding spot for a Sloegriir, artificers of the Black Rose. Her uniform, except for the collarless jacket, now draped nicely over Brittya’s petite elven body.

“There, now I’ll be quick and gentle with you.” She said while rolling Valeria onto her side, her face in the direction of the partially naked orc Sloegriir, whose ankles and thighs, wrist and forearms were secured together with the black sealing tape. Her eyes and mouth wrapped over four times not too evenly, while her torso was blackness as it was completely wrapped. Brittya lost herself a bit while restraining her.

While she yanked Valeria’s arms behind her back, she repeated the same words in her mind. Do not overdo it Britt. Instead of securing her wrists with the sealing tape, she opted to just use the Dampening Cuffs. Those were more than enough, as they were designed to keep even a highly dangerous sorcerer or wizard halfway towards godhood powerless. For the ankles she applied the tape quickly while keeping one eye at the door and the mirrored glass window. For a finishing touch, she rolled Valeria with her face up towards the ceiling, beforehand tearing two long strips from the roll. One went to cover her closed eyes, the other to seal her lips and cheeks.

“Nice and tight. Now rest well ladies.” She gently patted Valeria’s right cheek before she grabbed the Sloegriir jacket and straightened her borrowed uniform.

She then continued what she began after following, and knocking the orc Sloegriir out. Searching through the file cabinets, applying a spell to her mind that inscribes the information written in the documents. “No fucking way.” She said while her eyes were filled with terror. She quickly put all them back, and pondered whether to continue or not. Then she decided it is better to continue on, even if her boss denies printing any of this.

**

“Good morning Miss Nymmelia.” The harsh clacks on the wooden floor signaled the metered out arrival of the head Sloegriir of this complex. Nymmelia petite porcelain white body was draped in the layered combination of her uniform. A collarless dragonid faux leather jacket zipped up to her chest. A corset vest of the same faux leather material with high neck supporting the rouge pink blouse’s collars. Those collars possessed a discipline of their own as they stood straightened, with the folds scraping the jacket’s shoulder area near the neck.

“Morning to you too Natasha.” Nymmelia greeted back the vordriar posted at the elevators. Her long, pitch black hair cascaded down in waves of mauve stopped shaking as soon as she stopped in place. “Any news from down there I better know about before?”

“Nothing noteworthy. Oh except there is some newbie, a high elf going by the name Cecylin.” Natasha continued while scraping the thick layers of burgundy red hair that flow down to her back with a natural smoothness, straightness.

“Damn.” Nymmelia clicked her tongue as she felt a bit annoyed.

“What is it? Should I notify Anber?” Noticing her slight anger, mistaking it for distress Natasha asked.

“No. Probably got someone who annoyed someone, once again. I’ll deal with it. Thanks.” She forced a smile onto her wide, gleaming black lips before heading towards the elevator.

“Have a nice day Nymm.” Natasha bid her farewell.

“You too.” Nymmelia reciprocated as the doors slid close before her.

**

“How did the previous batch did?” Nymmelia decided to hunt down the newbie while also inquiring about the tests she asked her subordinates to do during the afternoon and night. She was currently inspecting a set of blouses made from a strikingly glossy, sleek material folded neatly on the table.

“So far, they endured more from the void energies than the previous iteration. Still something is missing, maybe a bit of innaistrier or astrumolite.” The much shorter halfling Sister of hers reported while holding stacks of papers over her chest.

“Probably the latter. But just in case let’s prepare a few of both. These on the other hand could go to the market. I’d bet my life that many in the upper echelons would die for such attires to wear. At least the amount of adramynite is correct.” Nymmelia said while focusing elsewhere, towards a large golem contraption. It ran through the main area’s center, with one end being a large machine spewing out crystals that instead of emitting light, swallow it completely. The golem line slowly transported them to the other side where they are grinded constantly into almost dust, to be used on various magicraft vehicles designed in a similar shape to Sky-Vessels.

“Have you seen the newbie by the way? A high elf… Cecylin is her name if my memory serves me right.” Nymmelia asked the halfling while following the golem line with slow steps. Her haunting eyes with glowing orangish red pupils and pitch black sclera slowly filled with her mana, then said mana itself shaped into inscriptions.

“Yeah, this is probably not her first time to be relocated.” The halfling noted while tucking a few loose strands of her brunette hair behind her slightly sharpened right ear.

“She’s at my office already?” Nymmelia asked back, her answer came in a slight nod as she looked down at her Sister. “I see. Thanks keep up the good work.” With that she headed to her office overlooking the whole area.

“Now where is Milentar.” Arriving to her office, she noted softly to herself the absence of the dark elven vordriar who was posted there. Then she let out a sigh coming to the conclusion that she may had taken a break and headed inside her office.

It was a spacious room with burgundy red carpeted floor, deep brown oaken walls with paintings of her predecessors and teachers who guided through her path of artifice. And a few photographs of her family and children. Meanwhile her face showed confusion as she expected the newbie to be sitting in the chair in front of her desk facing the door. Yet there was no one inside, not a single sound to be heard.

“It’s gonna be a tiresome day.” Nymmelia said as she walked to the window looking straight out to the main area. She gazed upon proudly as her subordinates worked tirelessly to advance the high aims of the Black Rose Order and Naireanth. Not noticing Brittya come out from her invisibility with a handkerchief drenched in chloroform. The other arm wrapped around her torso, locking her arms to it.

"Mhrh nn hhm?" She let out a muffled yelp as the handkerchief blocked the way of air in and out from her mouth and nose. The combined sweet and sour scent of chloroform quickly registered in her mind, and as she started to struggle, Brittya tightened her grip around her torso while dragging her away from the window.

“Don’t worry. You need this rest just as much as her.” Brittya said nodding towards the large closet built into the wall as a slight extension of the room, where Milentar rested bound and gagged, peacefully. Nymmelia’s struggling slowly died down as her porcelain white lids slowly closed down, her head slumped further between her blouse collars pushed slight down by her jawline.

“This night feels overtly nostalgic.” Brittya noted to herself cheekily as she released the chloroform soaked handkerchief from Nymm’s face. Then the usual ripping sound of tape followed as she secured Nymmelia’s sleeve covered wrists behind her back. To not waste anymore time as Nymm was not a combatant, she only bound her ankles before tearing off two long strips of the gleaming black tape, using one to seal her closed eyes, one to seal her lips and cheeks.

Then she grabbed her by slipping her arms under her arm pits, and dragged her inside the closet. She carefully placed her on the right of the tightly bound dark elven vordriar with short, bob style platinum white hair who let out muffled moans in her sleep.

“Sleep well sisters.” She said while closing the door on the two, then headed straight for the desk. First her aim was the drawers, the lowest ones to be specific.

“I guess she is a busy woman.” There she let out sighs at the sight of some personal relief machines. Namely a large black dildo gleaming under the glowstones warm light, and another gleaming black vibrator. Then she headed upwards where her eyes glinted with relief at finding actual documents. Going through them the same worry settled at reading what the Black Roses conduct down here.

While she doesn’t fully understand the ravings of artificers, she did understand the words bomb, area of effect: large and final product’s estimated deadline: three years. At the end of the documents she also made out the signal of Nymmelia and another that were only two syllables. an A. and an F.

“Who are you?” She asked while the inscription forced all these written information into her mind, etching them that even if someone woke her up in the middle of the night, she could recount them precisely. Then she put them back in as they were left there, then reached into her personal pocket void and picked out a crystal fitted into three metallic rings with runes carved into their surface.

“Let’s hope this works.” She mumbled while closing her eyes, focusing her mana into the runes that lit up with an arcane bluish light. Then as the crystal glowed up gradually, swirling arcane energies wrapped around her body and in a second, she disappeared in a burst of arcane energies.

**

A week later.

Deep into the Alabaster Serpent Forest south of the capital, a black magicraft car slowly drove between the imposing pine trees. Its plate emanated an arcane light as the numbers blurred, shifted constantly. Then not too far into it, the city lights still reaching the back compartment, the car stopped.

The driver’s side door opened up, and a figure, not taller than a hundred and ninety stepped out. Her athletic, slender form draped in a long cloak with an outstanding, gaze inviting dark luster. Its texture a combination of leather and silk, with a perfect seamlessness as not a single crease appeared as she stepped out from the magicraft car with blackened windows.

The large hood draped over her head, casting soft shadows onto her face hidden behind the metallic mask bearing the visage of a divine beauty of human kind as the lights of the city revealed it as she turned towards the back compartment. The cheeks of the mask were wedged between the top part of her folded collar with precisely flat tops where it folds down, only a few centimeters free space between the mask and the leathery collar.

As she made steps, the soft squeaking echoed in the forest, then as her arms reached out from her cloak, they were encased in perfected dragonid faux leather. Their dark luster was even more alluring to the eye then the cloaks, especially because it had a certain liquid like aspect to it, that showed itself when her fair hands got enveloped by it as if a slime attached to them.

It even formed metallic claws at the end of her fingers as she pressed her tips onto a smooth, glass surface. Mana flowed from her tips into the glass surface that lit up with a faint arcane light, then the back compartment popped open.

"Nph mmnphn'ph mm!" Inside the green haired wood elven beauty of a vordriar, Onoriel let out a muffled cry veiled in covert innocence. Her words were muffled, turned intelligible by the silver sealing tape that glinted as she moved her head. Her taped cheeks wedged between her arcane blue blouse collars. A soft, silken raven black cloth prevented her from also seeing, while white enchanted rope restrained her tightly.

Her captor remained silent as she grabbed her uniform draped shoulders and yanked her out from the back compartment. As if she was just some cushion, she lifted Onoriel over her left shoulder effortlessly then walked a few meters in front of the magicraft car.

"MMhmrm nrm mmm?" Onoriel mewled in her gag while frantically looking around as if to deduce their location. Not too far from her, she felt with her bound hands the edge of a precisely dug hole at which her muffled mewling quickened. She was trying to stand up, her bound knees dug into the earth, while fallen leaves, snow and mud tainted her dragonid leather pants. She gulped as she felt the cold, metallic touch of the wand pistol’s single barrel.

Then, silence. Followed by the thud of her corpse falling into the hole measured for her. Her executioner walked reached with one arm out under her cloak, and a shovel appeared in it. With swift movements, A.F slowly buried the deceased Onoriel in silence…