Heleion Archives

3rd of February, 59th of Neo-Dawn Era. Near the Sinuous Mountains Southern Eoran.

            “Should really get back to keeping watch.” Heren tried to resist, unaware that she had already fallen into Virge’moeth's trap, much like a spider capturing its prey. Their arms were entwined around each other's waists, but Heren attempted to voice her concerns as their lips parted.

“Don’t worry, there are a few hours before shift.” Virge’moeth reassured her, gazing into Heren's blazing eyes that held a glimmer of both fire and ice. Mana flowed into Virge’moeth's artificial eyes, as she slowly but surely exerted her charm on the sol elven Hirdriar stationed in the Mirage Mirror Room of the train car. Her lips continued to press against Heren's smooth, bronze-colored, delicate elven neck, ensnared between the metallic silver aetherna satin collars, which in turn were nestled within the angular folded neck of her Hirdrian jacket. Her fiery, deep red hair, braided and trailing under the distinctive square-shaped folds, reached her ample elven chest, concealed beneath layers of ornate and sleek uniform.

“And not like there are any dangers on board.” Virge’moeth added, her right hand slipping into her enchanted small bag. After a moment's contemplation, Heren reluctantly agreed. Just as she began leaning closer to Virge’moeth, a groan escaped her lips as a sudden jolt coursed through her body, causing her arms to go limp.

“Besides me.” A smirk appeared on her Faux Face as she delicately caressed her cheeks with a folded index finger. Rising from the chair, her eyes dart from one magic mirror to another. Her mana flows into her brain, inscribing the spell, eidetic memory while her gaze focuses occasionally on the operating table. Box shaped metallic buttons with arcane runes engraved into them peek out from it. At the pressing of one, the right side mirrors change view from the corridor outside to the nearby toilet. At each change, the image of Black Roses standing guard or patrolling burn into her mind.

Although her file had indicated the presence of only seven Black Roses and a handful of service crew members, the actual count on board reached thirty individuals, with half of them being Black Roses. While it was somewhat surprising, it wasn't entirely unexpected. Dealing with the Cartels meant relying on overseas rivals who often provided incomplete information. This was mainly due to the Cartels' reluctance to pay the necessary price for accurate details, even though the success of the contract hinged upon such knowledge. It annoyed her to the Abyss, but there wasn’t much she could do about it, besides leaving complaints to her handler.

If Virge’moeth were to fail on this mission, it could spell the end for the Nilejo Cartel. How does she know this? Well, a few years back, she had taken on a similar contract, but at that time, the former Arghyrian Myelian Order had been tasked with escorting her target. Initially, she had been informed of approximately twenty guards on board the ship. However, it turned out that the number was twice as high, with a significant portion of them holding high-ranking positions. This almost led to her capture. Fortunately, she didn't face any dire reprisals for her failure, as the now-forgotten cartel had been annihilated, thanks to the intelligence gathered from a traitor.

“Seems like your southern Sisters are much less conceited.” She remarked to the unconscious Heren as she turns around. Gently lifting her under the armpits, to transfers her from the leather chair to the carpeted floor, positioning her face down. Virge’moeth then proceeds to pat her slender elven body, clad in its sleek uniform, from top to bottom. Retrieving an unused roll of silver sealing tape and a set of mana cuffs, she places Heren's wrists together behind her back.

She swiftly tore open the roll, applying the open end to Heren's cuffed sleeve ends, looping it around and between them six or seven times before cutting the strip. With meticulous care, she applies the tape around Heren's elbows and upper arms for extra security. Moving on to her legs, she repeats the process, winding the sealing tape tightly across her dragonid faux leather mini skirt-covered thighs.

Crouching down beside the partially secured Heren, she circles the sealing tape around her abdomen, ensuring a wide and secure hold. She then repeats the process above her chest, where the partially open zipper is located, pressing the tight tape against the lapels and the layer beneath it.

"Looks even better than I imagined." She whispers to the unconscious Heren, her hands gently caressing the bound body clad in faux leather. Their lips lock in a passionate kiss, their tongues intertwining as she rips off a long strip of tape.

"There we go. I wish I had the golden tape for myself." She stated while sealing Heren's lips and cheeks, eliciting a soft moan from the sol elf.

“Well, rest easy, my dear." After taking a moment to admire her handiwork, feeling a sense of satisfaction in her chosen career path, she locked her faux lips onto the taped mouth of Heren. Then, she dragged her into the small storage space concealed behind a sliding door. Bid farewell, and left the unconscious, bound, and sealing tape-gagged Heren in the pitch darkness before venturing out, her sights set on the next target.

**

“Mnn mnnh gnnn hnhm” The umbral elven Hirdriar named Savalran mumbled, leaning against the foot of her bed. Her arms are twisted behind her, forearms stacked and tightly wrapped in silver sealing tape. The tape extends up her torso, nearly reaching her scaled and smooth shoulders, while her athletic legs, emerging from the tight mini skirt, are tightly bound in tape, just like her knee-high combat boots. Her dark eyes gleam with an enchanted and passionate obsession toward her captor, now resembling her.

Her words are muffled by the thin layer of silver sealing tape that wraps around her lower face, pressing against the strands of hair framing the right side of her porcelain white face. The tape continues down her back, secured between the sealing tape and the oak frame of the bed. A small disk is affixed to her neck, hidden beneath her metallic silver folded collar on the right side.

“Thank you dear. You truly look fantastic in this uniform.” Virge'moeth remarked, while checking her appearance in the mirror as the Faux Face adjusts her borrowed uniform to fit the much taller umbral elf.

"Now, if I remember correctly, we have some time for ourselves," She added playfully, approaching her appearance donor with a smirk beneath her gag. "Mmm cmrphnnnmm nn."

“What in the Goddess’s name is this?” The door slid open, revealing Savalran's slender, well-built sraudornian roommate. Her smooth, deep chocolate-toned body clad in the sleek uniform, with the collars slightly spread over the scaled shoulders, and straps adorning them. Her skin glistens under the warm white glow of the glowstones, and her face features delicate contours and vibrant silver irises set within an alabaster pond.

Her long hair is tightly knotted into a high ponytail, with strands of rich mauve red cascading down her back like a velvety waterfall. "Not bad." Virge'moeth commented while a lasso of darkness materialized out of thin air.

She seized it tightly with both her hands, looping it around Amara's lower torso, forcibly restraining her arms to her sides. Amara let out a soft yelp as she’s pulled inside, and with a second inscription, she fell into a deep sleep. Her ponytail sways with an air of elegance as her body lands face down on the floor with a gentle thud. Virge'moeth quickly rushed to the still-open door, cautiously peering into the empty, well-lit corridor with doors lining on each side, ensuring no one heard the disturbance.

The lasso of pitch darkness dissipates as the impostor Savalran sits on top of Amara, teasingly fondling her bottom with a smirk. The sound of tearing sealing tape filled the room, bringing joy to Virge'moeth’s faux face as she swiftly bound Amara's wrists. With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she tore off another strip of tape and gazed at the bound Savalran, a wicked idea forming in her mind.

She grabbed Amara and dragged her to the right side of Savalran's bed, then pulled the umbral elf closer. Taking a moment to catch her breath, the impostor seated the unconscious Amara on Savalran's bound lap, positioning her legs to spread behind the umbral elf. She proceeded to wrap the sealing tape tightly around Amara's ankles, calves, and thighs, connecting it to the strip still attached to Savalran's back, where the Black Rose emblem is etched into the glossy faux leather material. Releasing the roll, the tape takes on a life of its own, running around the two figures, pushing them closer together amidst the muffled pleasure of Savalran.

“Seems tight enough.” Virge'moeth observed as the layers of shiny sealing tape adhered tightly to the glossy material. She caught the almost empty roll and remarked, "That was a close one," with a smirk.

Only a long strip remained, but it was enough to effectively gag the sraudornian Hirdriar. She took hold of Amara's ponytail, which was tightly secured under the layers of tape, and with a spell, she made each strand phase out from under the bindings. She then gently smoothened the sealing tape over Amara's lips and cheeks before planting a kiss and letting go.

“Here my friend. Enjoy your time together.” Virge'moeth said, pushing their heads together as Savalran begins to nuzzle and cuddle Amara's neck. The soft, cold tape tickled the unconscious Amara, eliciting a few sleepy, muffled moans. "Do not mind me," Virge'moeth added, settling down on the bed to observe her appearance donor's futile attempts to engage in lovemaking within their bindings.

**

“Umphf, you’re a heavy one.” Virge'moeth let out a soft groan as she dragged the orcish Hirdriar into the small storage space in the corridor. She slipped her hands out from under the orc's armpits and remarked, "Here comes the fun part." after closing the door and placing a silence inscription on the confined area.

She secured the orc's wrists with mana ties, causing the orc to moan as the arcane points were stifled, resulting in a slight stinging sensation. Carefully, she stacked the orc's legs on top of each other as the orc lied on her side, and a soft clicking sound resonated within the tight space. Once again, the orc moaned grumpily as the arcane points within her legs were stifled, effectively damming the flow of mana.

“This is just to be sure.” Virge'moeth whispered as she fastened the last mana cuff around the orc's thick thighs. She reached into her borrowed enchanted bag and retrieved the roll of silver sealing tape she had taken from Amara. She ripped it open, and severed a piece from the roll with her teeth. Rolling the partially secured orc onto her back, she inspected her face, which now resembles that of a green-skinned elf, except for the tusks protruding from under the lower lip.

She swiftly applied the tape to the orc's cheeks and lips, running her fingers across it slowly and carefully before giving a gentle pat to the left side. "Have a good night," she said before straightening her posture and then confidently walked out.

“Sorry, I slept in a bit.” Virge’moeth arrived at her destination relatively quickly, perfectly imitating a worried Savalran as she assumed her post. "Don't worr..guh," she then walked up to the Gainechian-folk Hirdriar with long hair, the strands resembling fine sand glinting in the light. The Hirdriar's hair was knotted into a high bun with a thick, textured fringe. Her tawny skin gleams with perfect smoothness, but her face contorts in pain as lightning jolted through her body due to the shock wand pressed against her side.

“Sorry, but at least you can sleep for a while.” Virge’moeth a grabbed her by the armpits and dragged her inside, the door that opened up as it sensed their presence. "What is the meaning of this?" Durephra's voice reverberated within the large room, accompanied by the clanking of her high heels as she rose from the square-edged couch in the right corner.

Her suit jacket lied on the golden, soft cushion of the couch, while her corset vest appeared to be missing its sleeves, exposing her aetherna satin blouse that shined in a refined silver hue, appearing alluring even to Virge'moeth. Durephra's frail, dark bluish smooth neck was framed by the high folded collars, proudly standing thanks to the assistance of the stiff collars of the corset vest. The lower tips of the collars clasp her shoulders, concealed beneath the slim layer of dragonid faux leather vest, and blouse.

A soft thud followed as Virge’moeth dropped the unconscious Gainechian Hirdriar onto the floor. Her body burst into shadows as she swiftly traversed the distance between them.

"Geuhh." She then groaned as the sharp end of the heel pushed into her gut, overpowering the magical alloy laced with the faux leather layers, failing to protect her from the magically enhanced force of the kick.

She is sent flying through the room, crashed into one of the cabinets upon impact. The world spun in her vision as Durephra approached her slowly, a victorious smug adorned her seductive dark elven face, accentuated by her crimson jewel-like eyes.

"It seems you underestimate my rank." She said with grace in her deep voice, causing the clanking sound to intensify and trigger a minor headache for Virge’moeth.

“Can’t wait to find out what is the real face of Virge’moeth.” Durephra added, sending chills down her spine. As she caught a blurred image of the dark elf secretary pulling her right leg up, preparing to knock her out in one strike, Virge’moeth swiftly swept her own right leg, and with force, her other leg cuddled Durephra's gut, propelling her into the thick oaken frame of the couch.

Her head hit the sharp edge, and her snow silvery blood dripped out for a moment before the small wound patched up. "No waking up on me." Virge’moeth muttered as she slowly got up, grabbing the shock wand. She swiftly sent the Gainechian Hirdriar back into a deep sleep, her movements and groaning subsiding. Then, she did the same to the limp Durephra, causing her body to jolt momentarily.

“First, business.” Virge’moeth said between two heavy breaths as she conjured her golden silenced wand pistol into her right hand. The door to Fabian's bedroom slid open, revealing the man deep in sleep, wrapped in blankets with a face that resembled that of an innocent child.

“This is a snitches reward. Rest in the seventeen hells traitor.” She murmured. The silent mana bullet tore through the air, leaving only a bluish scratch in reality for a mere millisecond before entering Fabian's forehead, swiftly ending his life. "You got off easy, you bastard." Virge’moeth added, sliding down the frame of the door and catching her breath.

“Damn that bitch did more than a kick.” Virge’moeth muttered as her vision grew blurrier and murkier with each passing moment. She started to hyperventilate, overcome by panic. In her haste, she conjured the wrong vial, not even realizing that she had taken out one meant for restoring her mana. Just as she recognized the wrong taste, the world faded into complete darkness as she drifted into a deep sleep.