Heleion Archives

A few hours earlier…

As she glided forward, Faenia enveloped her form clad in her field uniform in a bubble that cancelled all sound including her body crashing through Ilsarei’s mansion sitting atop the crag facing the opposite side where hills rose mildly while a long paved road led to the nearest city.

The Daurriath Type-VI coat hugging tightly her body the elvish asymmetrically angular contours while possessing a midnight black satin lining, the enchanted belt looping around, and pressing into her waist, and asymmetrical hem which back took the shape of a crab’s pincer, while the second fused included the smooth shoulders with long featureless straps which flapped as the air and shards swept through it, while the collar consisted of two parts.

An outer of overlapping serrated collar and lapel giving a menacing touch to its overall look while a stiff short cloak and hood grew forth from its base. Then there was the inner, oversized collar which grew from the wide outer and encircled her whole neck while zipped up, scraping softly against her jawline while fashioned to resemble coiling straps overlapping each other while leaving little place for her midnight blue aetherna satin blouse’s collars.

Her face beneath the hood was veiled by a blackish silver mask with the upper beak of a raven stretching forward, the sides still following her cheekbones lines while beneath her mouth and chin was veiled by a satin piece of bluish black shade which served to muffle her voice, breathing and or allow her to alter her voice if need be.

“I’m in on the top floor.” She said, her voice travelling through the aethereal line connecting her to Lyaldis, Raabdeth and Tabiaroth.

Faenia quickly scanned the room with her eyes, then her form lost its substance and became one with the shadows the moment the door before her creaked open. A young soratanese maid entered and gasped at the glass shard littered scenery of the small room, though before she could do her job, Faenia locked her arms around the delicate form of the maid, and let shadows cover her mouth and nose until she passed out.

“I landed too in the backgarden. I’ll clear it out then move to the cellar.” Tabiaroth sweet disembodied voice rang through her head as she quickly sealed the maids’ mouth once more, this time with a wide strip of silver sealing tape which spread from ear to ear.

“I arrived too, heading for the second floor.” Raabdeth’s deep incorporeal voice followed as she wrapped the sealing tape around the wrists, the claws at the end of her gloves cut through as she finished.

“I just finished the few personnel at the courtyard Sisters. Better hurry up or you’ll have to clean the lower deck.” Lyaldis’ mocking tone filtered through as she hid bound and gagged maid in the nearest wardrobe while the shards inside flew back into their face and once more stood in unity.

**

The claws of her gloves dug deep into the orc’s neck, his blood flowing down and tainting his pristine white shirt and colorful necktie. He let out a few more bloodied growls before Raabdeth pulled out her gloved hand from his throat and watched with a listless expression behind the mask as the corpse joined the rest littering the billiard room.

Her masked, hooded visage mechanically pivoted around the room with oaken walls ornated with paintings now covered in the blood of the guards of the second floor. After she was sure none of them remained alive, she walked out and slipped into the next room where a malodorous scent hit her nose, burnt her eye even behind the mask’s protection.

With an alerted posture – held hands out, prepared to strike at a moment’s notice – she approached the corrugated draped clinging from the ceiling. Before she could have opened it up to reveal the source of the pungent odor, a bald dark elf and a young sraudornian with sun-kissed complexion and cascading dark hair of curving locks jumped at her.

The man he tackled to the floor and with a swift strike at the neck incapacitated while the young sraudornian was thrown across the room by an invisible force before she got knocked cold by a forceful kick against her neck and head which made her violently swivel down the floor while crashing an antique hoshigawan cupboard.

Noticing the slimy fluid and the worms wriggling before they enervated by her piercing magical gaze, a portentous assumption beget in her mind to what the source of the odor was. She quickly recognized the worms as a southern kindred of the Shiruku Worms native to the Midnight Isles, beasts that suck out the blood and intestines of their victims with their inner appendages laced with a poisonous saliva turning pain into delight. In their bowels the blood and intestines then turn into a silken of vibrant golden which is one of the primary materials of southern garments amongst their nobles and socialites.

Though before revelation, Raabdeth procured a roll of black sealing tape and a pair of plastic mana ties and secured the two groaning guards and made them sit on their knees with a spell a combination of mind and flesh arcana.

At last, the curtain howled open in its high-pitched, metallic tone revealing the grim scenery behind itself. On the bed laid Oyuun with her legs stretched open, enchanted rope coiled thrice around her ankles while a straight thread led back to the corners’ of the tainted bed. Her arms and wrists restrained in the same fashion, same bindings while her a wide gilded strip of sealing tape bearing a painted glyph at the center over her bulging lips spread across her face.

Azahara and Heithril, her two Skjaldmaerith bodyguards near the bed with their arms strained above their slumped heads with two coils of enchanted rope binding their wrists and holding them in the air. A third coil knitted around their naked ankles while their mouths covered by the strip of the same golden sealing tape.

All three Black Roses’ eyes vacant, and staring forward with the last sensation frozen onto them, that of pleasure and pain. From their exposed vulvas, the same worms which corpses now littered the floor burrowed deep into their flesh and sucked their intestines and blood out. Within seconds the still squirming beasts clutching to the three corpses clitorises withered into dust while emanating their muffled warped screams.

With tremulous steps, Raabdeth surging with a primal rage walked behind the two guards who hid in the cupboards on each sides, and at her command, their limbs, their necks, their torso all began to twist. Their skin tore revealing sinew and marrow beneath while blood splurged onto the tainted floor and not long after, a bloody and ivory jigsaw laid before her feet.

“I found a three of our Sisters. I avenged them.” She spoke in a monotone voice. “Good work Raab.” Lyaldis disembodied voice replied in a gentle tone.

**

The snap of the golden dragonkin guards’ neck echoed through the wide and arched corridor, followed by the heavy thud of his hulking body hitting the floor. “Then I guess from this point on, no prisoners.” She whispered after getting Raabdeth’s message which added to her own sorrow and anger precipitated by the demise of their Sisters.

With slow steps she walked hastily towards her destination while keeping her eyes on the barred doors in case there was a guard skillful enough to veil their presence from even her. At the end she arrived to the a shortly descending steps and an oblong gate.

Substant darkness wrapped around both her sleeves, at the ends blades of pure, vicious darkness formed into long blades as the door creaked open by itself at her command. Tabiorath then dispersed the darkness around her arms when she stepped into the circular room of gloomy stones, and a wickedly designed chandelier hanging at the center of the domed ceiling.

The silvery light fragmentarily lit up the large chamber, focusing most of its glow at the stone bed. On it a petite silhouette bulged out from beneath the golden sheet of silken like piece draping over the edges. Tabiaroth remained fully alert as she slowly neared the bed then as she swiped her palms in front of the sheet, it threw itself off to the wet ground.

“I found the Godborn. She is one of Myelia’s blood as we expected.” Tabiaroth reported as she stared horrified at the vivisected doll which broken, crystalline and translucent ribcages of a faded iridescent glint poked out from the slit open chest forcefully expanded. Her skin still appeared unblemished, bearing a sun-kissed tone and southern features like plump, sensuous lips which color faded even more post mortem.

The silken hair of prismatic shade spread out on the slab beneath her head and torso, while her eyes of the finest shape were closed down, hidden behind the soft, glossy lids. Her rotting flesh still appeared fresh and bore a deep violet hue instead of a reddish.

Even in this state of grotesqueness, Tabiaroth could not help but feel drawn to the corpse whose vacuous doll face seemed to be bathed in a strange ethereal glow. “Tabi? Tabiaroth wake up!” Lyaldis disembodied yell broke her trance and she shook her head while backing away, her body swaying as a wave of strange nausea washed over her.

“Yes?” She replied, even her mental voice tired and dismayed. “Leave that corpse alone for now. Our task for now is to clean out the mansion and continue our search.” After sitting down at the stairs outside the chamber, Tabiaroth took deep breaths, then when she felt somewhat better, she rushed away, though she could not help looking back with eyes alight of an ominous desire.

**

The gilded piece of tape spread across Chlonyss face brightly scintillated as the sun shone on the piece of adhesive textile. Selindrae herself stared at it with wondrous eyes as it was the first time she saw a thing like that. “Do you think it is expensive?” Then she turned to the masked Simhriolag and Henrietta who were cleaning the blood of wild beasts off who were drawn by the tantalizing scent of the bound and gagged dark elven drengriar secured to the bulky tree’s trunk.

“Probably.” Whilst Simhriolag remained silent, Henrietta answered honestly. “Though for now, we better hurry. Ilsarei is reaching the base so we don’t have much time.” Selindrae straightened her posture and the new dragonid leather outfit of hers and pulled her handcrafted wand pistol out from its decorated holster.

“Shouldn’t we at least free her?” She asked while the two walked past the tree. “No point to it.”

“Don’t worry about her. I erected a ward around her so no more beasts shall come near her.” Henrietta added and satisfied somewhat with the answer, Selindrae followed after the two while beginning to envelop her whole body with a spell erasing her presence.

**

The trio watched the lone masked goon of Ilsarei stare into the distance right back at them – obliviously – on the front porch of the shack. Per their plan, Selindrae remained still while Simhriolag melded into the ground and swam across and into the building blocks of the edifice. Her hands protruded forth the wall with one holding her enchanted dagger, and in a series of swift motions, slit the goons’ throat while covering his head in silencing field, negating his deathly wails.

Henrietta followed in the same fashion, and entered further into the shack where she took down the last two goons’ inside. The first, an aelfrith who collapsed into her arms dead as deathly energies snuffed the life out from her, the second a brawny naurdian whose organs and intestines lit up in flames and scorched to ash within seconds while his eyes melted and flowed down his Koh mask.

“Clear, you can come in.” Selindrae quickly rushed in while keeping her eyes on the surroundings of the forest, then stepped over the corpses left behind by Henrietta. “Seems this one got knocked out recently. Maybe we’re lucky.” Henriatte said as she leaned down and checked Ollarha whose head collapsed into the lax embrace of her collars.

“Or she just woke up recently and they sent her back to sleep.” Selindrae added as she noticed the mana residue of the sleeping spell thickly lingering in the unseen realm. “While the gas is potent, I believe the enchantments of your uniforms still lessen the time compared to what Ilsarei’s goons estimated probably.”

“I guess that is a good thing we too overlooked.” Simhriolag added while she kept watch over the stairs leading into the cellar. “Let’s hope Ilsarei is still unaware of this.” With this knowledge, the trio headed down the cellar and into the long and narrow dungeon beneath the landing base.

**

Beneath the earth, in the winding road of strange basalt, the three of them reached a wide section branching into three different paths. Selindrae kneeled down and touched the floor with her artificial arm and closed her eyes. An aethereal wind tinged her soul while she felt the faux arcane point in the metallic arm flare up. As she opened her eyes, glowing footsteps appeared before her eyes which she pointed out to the two agents.

“Some of those lead back.” She added while pointing at the two sets of steps coming from the left and right heading back whence, they came. “Then that narrows it down. let’s move.” With that they rushed with silenced steps until they reached the circular chamber hiding beneath the treasury of the main building.

“Fancy seeing you here with those two.” As soon as they reached the center, Kiri greeted the trio while standing triumphantly at the center in front of the device. Near the three, the patrolling Black Roses sat on the floor secured tightly with golden sealing tape, their head aimlessly looking around while their moans reverberated through the echoing chamber.

Without wasting words, Selindrae lifted her wand pistol and shot at Kiri who swiftly teleported out from the coming mana bullet which dispersed into nothingness upon impacting the invisible ward around the device. “I guess negotiations are off the table. Lady Ilsarei will be very disappointed.”

Kiri once more disappeared in a burst of shadowy mist, and appeared directly above them hurling a fireball at the trio who quickly dodged then got swept in the spreading force of the explosion. Although they did not sense the additional layer of inscriptions, the three managed to land on their feet and quickly scanned the chamber for Kiri, though found no sign of her.

Then a click rang through the heavy, cold air followed by the whirring of the top of the device from which the gas released and filled the air within seconds while spreading like wildfire up into the sewer system and duct system of the base.

“Shit.” Selindrae yelled as she leapt close to the device, her artificial arm engulfed in swirling magical energies. With a swift strike, the invisible ward around it shattered, followed by the translucent explosion which hurled Selindrae far back into the corridor with half her artificial arm destroyed.

**

As the battle raged outside between the relatively well-equipped but not so well-trained goons of Ilsarei, Astrydril entered the main hall of the central edifice clad in her issued, field uniform consisting of the suave full body-suit of dragonid leather and vhalex with asymmetrically angular frames and contours kissing her wiry hourglass form.

Blood dripped to the floor from her dual swords’s long uneven blades with a slit in their middle, from the mask of a devilish attempt at hewing Myelia’s visage down into the small space where her raven black blouse collars stood tightly fitted between the body-suits’ Van Dyrd collars veiled by the loose hood draped over her head, swallowing her lone dragon horn into an unknowable void.

As she entered the elevator, she swiftly turned around and hit the two blades together, the magically imbued resonance awakening the sleeping staff within. Inside she leaned against the wall, and whistled just as Lyaldis reported that the mansion had been cleaned out – and her eyes narrowed menacingly as she heard the fate of the three Black Roses. Then the next report came from Simhriolag, mentioning Kiri escaping though the device filling the bas edifices with the gas was no more thanks to Selindrae.

On the bottom where the treasury rested, the elevator bumped and she straightened her posture, raised her swords’ blades before her masked visage and focused forward as the door slid open revealing the long and wide corridor going straight.

Metallic tiles of bluish silver made up the floor while the walls and ceiling glimmered in golden and crimson with a three chandeliers hovering in the air bathed the corridor in a warm light. The six Skjaldmaeriths tasked with guarding the treasury sat in groups of three, the runed sealing tape of golden coiled seven times around their abdomen for each group while short strips sealed their lips.

Astrydril walked in a monotone manner between them, focusing on the large, ornated metal gate before her, the strange glyphs of southern origin painted onto their wall, just like as they were tinted meticulously on the floor. A few steps before the door she stopped, and the air grew heavier, muskier as she condensed her immense mana, the chandeliers danced chaotically as the aethereal winds blew through them as they headed into Astrydril’s form as she stretched one leg backwards while her sword holding arms assumed a thrusting stance.

Then a roar followed as she leapt against the gate, and shattered the thick metallic erection into small bits and pieces which were swallowed by the voracious umbral energies she conjured forth. “Wha...” The one wearing Azahara’s form uttered as she turned to face her impending doom, then her form exploded as wave of umbral wave swept through her faux form, leaving nothing behind except for a gored skeleton.

The one disguised as the late Heithril fared no better, though she had time to vainly try to protect herself from the silent rage of Astrydril. The ward enveloping her ersatz silhouette lost the battle against the spell which eroded her eyes in a quite painful manner. As she wailed her last, Astrydril’s left blade pierced through her head, which upper half slid down upon the swift and forceful departure of the blade.

The one wearing Oyuun’s form and uniform knowing she was an ant facing the foot, quickly reached into her pocket and tried to activate her one chance at escape, a small magicraft device which would hurl her through time and space away from the place that shall be her momentary grave. She accepted her fate upon sensing the disturbance of time’s flow, and her last shriek echoed and awakened the bound and gagged Skjaldmaeriths as shadowy flames melted and putrefied her in seconds she experienced as eternity.

As she finished the last of them, Astrydril expanded and strengthened her detection spell and confirmed that besides the now awakened trussed up Skjaldmaeriths, Ilsarei was nowhere inside the treasury. Though as expected, the gold behind the second, third and fourth gate remained though were enveloped in the inscriptions of the ritual.

**

Teleportation is one of the hardest spells to perfect. It requires a fundamental understanding of one’s presence in space, have a perfect visualization of their destination, and most importantly also a mastery over time. In the olden days, many a mages hurled themselves across the pan continent without adjusting the flow of time. While they saved themselves from the trouble of walking or paying for the ancient traversal services, they did end up at their destinations, just a few decades later than they would have liked it.

Though what’s more important that teleportation leaves a trace as the soul and body is hurled through. A trace of the soul specifically which eased the process of elimination for Astrydril on where Ilsarei escaped. Yet she was still too late as the Lodhbrok-II just took off to the sky.

Instead of following instantly after the vessel, she rushed into the hangar and slight relief washed over her as she noticed Agertha and the captured Sisters’ of hers laying where she left them. As a few more of the Voidfarers’ rushed into the hangar after witnessing their Vessel leaving, Astrydril pointed out the still secured and unconscious ones behind a cubicle of stacked crates, then she herself took off to the sky in the shape of swirling dark flames and mist flying with great velocity.

As she reached the ascending Void-Vessel, an ominous, vile and cold breeze flounced Astrydril and as she looked down at the distant precipitous landscape, she noticed the glow akin to stars in the night sky. Dark and golden energies flowed out from the eldritch moon glyphs and appeared to encircle the whole area while a few ophidian streaks converged towards the Void-Vessel.

Driven by the strange terror, she hastened herself and broke through the ward of the vessel and phased through the metallic layers until she found herself on the first decks’ corridor. With her swords drawn, she hurried to the command center, cutting the few grunts standing in her way.

At the navigational command center, she almost lost her balance as the vessel came to a sudden halt. Astrydril swiftly plunged her blades into the floor and tensed her muscles while pulling them out and striking them into the metallic floor which she repeated until she entered the command center. There she stared puzzled at the eerie scenery of Ilsarei and six of her servants dressed in dark robes lay on the floor motionless.

Their eyes burnt out with a dark smoke rising from the blackness, a charred circle around them. Faces contorted to the point their bones shattered, their jaws agape and dislocated as if they exerted an unnatural power to scream while their veins seemed to pop out beneath their pale epidermises. Even without using magic, Astrydril knew they all died witnessing something horrible, something unnamable, indescribable.

With no reason to stay, she pulled out her blades from the floor and phased through the ceiling, watched as the Vessel dove deep downwards the picturesque vista, then flew back to the mansion to regroup with the others after reporting the demise of Ilsarei.