Heleion Archives

31st of January, 59th of the Neo-Dawn Era. Sraurpoint, Southern Eoran.

            “How does it look on me?” Ester asked, the sound of the asymmetrically placed zipper being pulled up on her dragonid faux leather Type-III Hirdrian jacket. She sighed and rotated in front of the mirror, feeling the soft arcane materials caress her skin, creating a sensation akin to jumping into soft, chilly clouds.

Ester, or at least someone wearing a Faux-Face danced around in front of the mirror in the hotel room with a beautiful view to the bay. The Faux-Face replicated her shiny blonde locks, cascading down in perfectly layered waves, framing the alluring face with high cheekbones, graceful feline-shaped eyes, a small cute nose, and plump lips with a rich red hue. Textured fringes covered the forehead, concealing long, thin eyebrows.

“Mnn mmnn'ph gmph nmmnm mmnphh phhnph” The real Ester, seated in a chair, attempted to threaten her impersonator. A strip of sealing tape shimmered under the golden-hued light entering through the windows, preventing understandable words from escaping her sealed lips.

"I'm not so sure. It's not my first tango." Virge'moeth responded, walking towards Ester with the thuds of her knee-high combat boots muffled by the carpeted floor. She sat in Ester's lap, who attempted to strike back but was restrained by pristine white enchanted ropes looping around her exposed, voluminous breasts, keeping her tightly bound to the luxurious wooden chair.

“Now, now we have some time to kill. Why not have some fun before the cleaners arrive.” A predatory smirk formed on Virge'moeth's lips as she whispered into Ester's ear.

"Cmmnnmrph?" Ester gulped, attempting to muffle a question through the sealed lips bulging out from the tape as her impostor pressed her cheeks.

"I mean, wasn't it pretty evident?" Like an animal, the impostor's tongue licked her taped lips, sending a mix of warmth and sweet breath into Ester's nostrils, creating conflicting sensations in her mind.

"PHhnph mmnn'ph hm nmcmphphnrm." Ester tried to plead with her impostor, fear evident in her eyes.

"And now you've ruined the moment." Virge’moeth waved her hand in front of Ester's sealing-taped face, causing her head to slump down. Virge'moeth sighed, filled with burning disappointment.

"And here I thought Roses were braver in the face of death." She said as she lay down on the soft bed, spreading her arms upwards.

“Well, there will be a few more beauties on the train.” She quickly got up, tapping her Faux-Faced cheeks before rushing through the documents provided by her employer, a high ranking narcos of one of the largest cartels in Southern Eoran.

Her target: Fabian Correa, a former smuggler for the Nilejo Cartel operating near the northern border of Central and Southern Eoran. His family had a long history, originating from the Shailonian settlers who faced difficulties early on. Like their fellow settlers, they ventured into the wilderness and were taken in by the natives who introduced them to narcotic plants. Upon their return, they had begun selling these plants in the markets. However, the Imperial Colonial Lords were not so pleased, mainly due to the lack of profits they never received, leading them to hastily declare the plants and products made from them illegal.

This led to the formation of the first cartels in the center of Eoran, who initially had sided with the Imperials during the start of the Colonial War. They hoped that their alliance would lead to the legalization of their newly concocted narcotics. However, after the assassination of one of the higher-ranked cartel leaders, they decided to join the rebellion, providing manpower and magicraft weaponry.

Fabian's family was among the first to join the rebels, which bought them some time after the war ended in the rebels' victory. However, as other groups grew in power, Fabian had begun to fear for his life and the safety of his family. A few months ago, he had contacted the authorities after escaping to Sraurpoint. Now, his former partners are out for his blood, and the blood of his family.

He plans to use the newly built train system to travel to the southern capital of the Eoran States, Cielourrieth. This capital is situated atop the center of the Sinuous Mountain range and is known as the "Capital on the Peak of the World" in the ancient sol elven language. The Black Roses of Northern Eoran have been hired to escort him to the southern capital, and Virge’moeth had been tailing them for the past week since their arrival.

Thankfully, due to their overconfidence, they strolled around the city in their shimmering raven black and snow silver uniforms, making it easier for Virge’moeth to surveil their behavior, speech patterns, and so on.

As for Ester, she happened to fit Virge’moeth's preferences in terms of humans. A tall, fair-skinned young woman dressed in leathery and satin attire, with an athletic body. She was the perfect target for the nightblade hired to take out Fabian. "Well, let's hope everything goes as planned, besides your involvement," Virge’moeth says as she sits up, her gaze fixed on the back of Ester's appearance donor, particularly the bound wrists peeking out from under the coils of rope wrapped around the chair's back and her abdomen.

“Not all is lost though. Maybe I can still have some fun with you.” She walked to Ester, sat in her lap while lifting her head with her index finger softly touching her chin. The unconscious Ester moaned into her gag, the Virge’moeths’ lips gently locked onto her neck arousing her in her sweet dreams. Then her right hand slipped into her panty, starting to slowly, gently massage Esther’s vagina.

She closed her eyes, her other hand slips into her recently borrowed tight dragonid faux leather skirt, her shifted fingers slipped into her own vulva. Her mind starts wandering, recalling the moment she had yanked one of the service girls of the hotel, a young redheaded seossurian folk, not older than maybe twenty seven. The hotness intensified as she recalled her whimpers slowing down, her body going limp as she drifted into unconsciousness.

Then she got one step closer to climaxing as she recalls the image of the naked service girl bound, a white cloth serving as her gag while hidden inside a box with its space expanded beyond its natural boundaries.

She slew down, now recalling the events of knocking on Esther’s door, then springing into action as the unassuming Hirdriar turned her back to her. How she went limp and silent too. The sound of the zippers, the feeling of unbuttoning, revealing her voluminous breast kept by the blackish mauve bra. Then she relived the moment of dragging her into the chair, the knotting of the enchanted rope.

Then the struggle as she woke up, trying to cast a spell, wriggling her head to not get gagged with the golden sealing tape that now adorns her gorgeous face. And in that moment, she funnels her mana, shaping it swiftly into a void inscription sending her own spunk into the endless nothingness to not taint the highly comfortable military skirt. And her own expensive panties.

**

The distant orchestra of footsteps, conversations, and rolling luggage permeated the air, reaching the area where Virge’moeth stood proudly among the other Hirdriars of the Black Rose, while Fabian observed them with scrutinizing eyes. "I suppose they will suffice." He remarked to the dark elven handler of the Black Rose who had personally selected each member.

Fabian was a handsome man with a sun-kissed complexion, displaying a few wrinkles that added character to his distinguished visage. He sported a neatly trimmed, thick beard and was dressed in an elegant suit, with a black matte shirt and a gold tie that seamlessly blended with his dark attire.

“Thank you for the compliment.” Durephra replied, lightly bowing her head, her snow-silver collars unbuttoned and delicately brushing against her elven jawline, which boasted an exquisite and symmetrical shape.

"I will proceed inside for now." Fabian added, wiping the sweat from his forehead, which shimmered as much as his meticulously slicked-back hair.

The rest of the group, including the disguised cartel assassin, maintained a stoic stance in front of the train car. Durephra initiated the second debriefing, pacing slowly back and forth, her high heels audibly clanking with each measured step. Her short, platinum white hair was styled in an angular bob, with the right side slightly shorter, revealing her long, pointed ear adorned with snow-silver earrings near the edge. This contrasted beautifully against her smooth, radiant dark bluish skin. Her eyes gleamed with discipline, as if she had grown up in a military household, and her unwavering voice resonated in the almost empty area.

Their dragonid faux leather uniforms, designed as a fusion of a jacket and a suit, featured hidden asymmetrical zippers concealed under a foldable, sleek layer. The uniforms possessed a graceful yet menacing sheen, enhanced by the bluish light from the top rail that cast an illuminating glow upon them. The shoulders of their Hirdrian Type-III jackets showcased scaly surfaces that extended down toward their elbows, curving outward, with a shoulder strap on top adorned with two blooming rose-shaped buttons on each end. Virge’moeth suppressed her desires as she began to envision how she would tie each of them up, her faux-face-disguised visage gradually transforming into a depraved smug.

Virge’moeth observed with unwavering eyes as Fabian stepped inside the single train car, which extended forty meters in length. The top metallic bars crossed each other, magnetically connecting to the top rail, while millions of embedded mana crystals, inscribed with powerful spells, prevented them from falling. These crystals also provided control to the golem-engine located at the back, allowing the navigator at the front to steer the train.

The outer hull, crafted from golden and mahogany mythrinium, a magical alloy reserved for high-end commerce crafts, exuded an aura of luxury. The interior space was maximized, providing ample room for at least fifty passengers, ensuring their comfort during the journey.

Multiple services were available, including four baths, five spacious toilets with ten stalls each, three kitchens, and two large storage areas capable of accommodating even cars and trucks. The train car consisted of two floors, with a special presidential residence where Fabian resided, guarded by two sentinels stationed at his door around the clock.

“Is everything clear?” Durephra addressed them loudly, concluding the final debriefing and explaining their duties for the week-long journey.

"Yes, Ma'am!" They responded in perfect unison, saluting in a synchronized manner. They entered the train car one by one, with Virge’moeth being the last to step aboard before the train set off. Little did they know that this might be their final journey...