Heleion Archives

The soft groanings of the leather tunic tensioning around her slender form echoed through the dark confines of the armories’ as Zeyneb dressed up hastily. Not far from her laid the large box previously inhabited by the Naurdic Legion’s auxiliary armor which now hovered in the air waiting to embrace Zeyneb’s form, giving space to the now naked and bound Urwah who groaned a bit lightly as the thick enchanted ropes cut into her smooth, fair golden epidermis.

On her exposed abdomen neatly drawn runes glittered in a sinister amber and crimson shades emanating an aethereal mist, and the very same runes adorned her arms bound beneath her arm while her legs remained free of them but not from the unyielding rope which forced them together while neatly positioned so that Zeyneb can seal her inside.

Before that though, she leaned closer and produced two rags, two cramped muffle scarves from her personal void space and shoved one into her mouth, the one embroidered with the same runes adorning the svelte form of Urwah, while the other lacking them sealed the rag’s way of escape possibly aided by the pinkish tongue, knotted impossibly tight just under the black bead melding in partly with her hair.

Zeyneb then placed the round domed helmet with the scaled ridge and chained veil shrouding the rest of her face and closed down the lid, placing and repairing the lock with time magic before she walked through the wall and out to the dim alley between the two buildings. She assumed a more disciplined stance than her usual leisurely one and walked out after confirming no gazes focused on the alley.

**

Zeyneb patiently played the role of a patrolling auxiliary in the vast courtyard, marching on the polished marble pavement around the statue of the Emperor eternalized in a triumphant position until the late hours of the night aloof from the legionaries. With her primary task done, placing a rune of annihilation in the armory of the headquarters, she ruminated whether to stay or head for the prison hovering over the eastern district, connected to the headquarters by a bridge.

In the end she resolved the free the single prisoner held in the tower on the isle of sand and stone floating in place. A few months ago, Avnroug and his company of dervishes were captured far north of the city, further in the deserts of Shalaion by the Naurdic Legion who base they planned to attack from beneath the worm dug tunnels his people reinforced with limestone and basalt centuries ago.

Zeyneb tautly remained in the center platform of the bridge, which itself consisted of numerous polished and flattened stones imbued with air and space enchantments which kept them in place. With a trembling body, a face turned straight up facing the gate guarded by a stygian and a naurdian man Zeyneb made her way across murmuring under the helmet from which her long and dark hair cascaded out.

“Boring night, isn’t it?” The stygian said after greetings were done and Zeyneb nodded in agreement, regretting her decision a little. “Well, in a few days we shall be going to the battlefields at least.” The naurdian added while opening up the gate to Zeyneb after handing back her identification crystal she took from Urwah.

The thick and ornated wooden gate moaned loudly as the naurdian pushed it open, and beyond its polished form laid the bare courtyard with a paved road leading into the tower itself. Inside she was greeted by a half-snaelf auxiliary devoid of the plate armor except for the vambraces adorning her slender arms.

Inquisitive, frost colored eyes in a wide and small frame surrounded by the pristine white complexion, soft as silk while her tousled hair draped over the dark leather tunic which open high collars slanted away from her frail neck. Until her jaw scraped against the soft inner padding of ruby as she checked the logbook on the table before her. Before she could confirm whether there was a guard change or not, Zeyneb grabbed her head and slammed it into the table, while the other formed a runic circle submerging the head in aethereal waters.

The snaelf guard tried to resist, flaunting her arms aimlessly, squirming until she went limp on the table, arms spread out and hanging at the threshold. Zeyneb pulled out the dry head and dragged her into the room behind them where she secured the guards wrist and ankles before pulling out the last of her muffle shawls with the smaller once more cramped and pushed into the mouth, the other securing that it stays inside. When she finished hiding her behind one of the crates, rune carved onto her forehead, she headed for the door and down the spiraling stairs.

With each step down the spiraling stairs, she extinguished the lit torches driving the shadows away and she stuck to the wall, peering over, counting the patrolling guards and the cells. The armor on her body dissipated as shadows crawled over them and she exhaled softly no longer feeling their weight pushing, slowing her body whilst she prepared a few spells in her mind to take down the guards.

First, she melded into the stone, and swam across the floor behind the nearest auxiliary, a short and bulky dwarf of the northern kindred whose mouth he covered. She held back the chuckle created by the thick silken beard of the dwarf, while her other arm wrapped tightly around his short, bulky body holding him as he slowly passed out from the magical fumes of the mushy sand Zeyneb called forth out of the nothingness.

After a few seconds, she dragged the dwarf through the cold metal bars and laid him on the ragged sheet and hay bed. She produced a shaft with a wide aperture, a silken textile of golden wrapped around with the outermost layer slightly tilted up. With a swift and forceful pull, a long strip came off from the silken gauze and pressed it onto the bearded face, sealing the mouth as the strip tightened itself onto hair and skin.

Then she reached for his shoulder and leaned him over, while producing two coils of rope which she used to bind his arms and legs before using her nails to carve the runes of annihilation onto his forehead. With the dwarf tightly secured she threw the sheet over him and left him in the cell as she sunk back into the floor.

Her next target faced the turn with one arm holding a large round shield, the other resting on the pommel of her short blade. Another half-elven maiden with long, silken white hair, a slightly bluish smooth epidermis and eyes of piercing, menacing crimson. Zeyneb soared across the floor and went up to the wall, where half her body protruded from the dim stack of stones neatly carved into rectangles welted together by cement.

“Huh?” The conjured draught of wind blew out all the remaining torches in the segment, wreathing them all in complete, utter darkness. A swift strike at the nape proved enough and she listened to the clanks and thud signaling the arrival of the guards’ form onto the floor. As Zeyneb’s eyes lit up in an arcane bluish glow, the blinding darkness softened and she landed with her legs on the sides of the guard.

With the golden coils of rope in hand, Zeyneb grabbed the guards wrists and stacked them on the leather tunic’s back kissing her slender, wiry form and knotted them swiftly and tightly, forcing a few moans from the sleeping guard. Then she secured her ankles and thighs, and finished by using the silken gauze to seal her mouth before once again carving a rune of annihilation onto her forehead hiding behind the thick bush of hair falling over it.

“Zeyneb? I knew leather would look good on you.” The dwarf with golden earthly epidermis, Avnroug asked as he awakened from his sleep to the sound of the knocks on the bars where Zeyneb leaned against them with a smile and folded arms.

Zeyneb put the key in the lock and the gate creaked open. “Thanks, though we shall have drinks after this. For now take this and leave.” She reached into her pocket void and gave a teleportation chalk to Avnroug who drew a circle beneath his feet.

Halfway heading back, Zeyneb turned around though deep down she had a hunch. “What about the others?” Her answer came in a solemn headshake. “We shall avenge them on this day.” She added before heading back up, merged into the shadows.

**

“Have you felt it?” Katla, a naurdian drennai asked the lightly dressed stygian clerk about to leave their office as she felt the faint aethereal wind of a spell forming, then not long before fading into the nothingness of reality.

Katha was a lithe woman in her late two hundred with a wiry body she honed since she was chosen by the witches of the Sisterhood a hundred and fifty years ago in her small backwater village. She was wearing her preferred drouvhen leather short coat with high collars standing proudly and wide whilst the collars of her aelfhrad silken tunic overlapped them, and extended onto her shoulders where their stiffness faded as they formed into a short cloak contrasting with the milk smooth black leather.

Over her nether area, she wore skin tight breeches of the same raven black hue fastened with a belt accentuating her delicate form right in the center, whilst her pointed boots encased her fair feet. Over the garments she wore plates crafted, sculpted similarly to the Naurdic Legions’ except the trims were all furred in snow white, and on the top it ended in bordered round neck with small studs.

On her back, her long runed blade rested in its sheath, hidden under the dark waterfall of her braided hair. Each braid were further enclosed by leather beads engraved with glowing runes which filled her with power beyond her natural strength.

Katla herself was absent from the sacking of the city as she arrived to the south no more than a decade ago, part of a force sent to Sarnath closer to the steppes, but was sent south after the Empire’s spies within Abrarus reported the brewing rebellion.

“Felt what?” The stygian clerk asked as she draped her petite golden form hugged by a lavish gown with a shapeless mantle reaching down to the floor. “I felt something… in the dungeons I think.” Katla said as he head turned around in search of something, then halted as her almond-framed eyes glared down at the floor, piercing through it seemingly.

“Probably Melkorkael practicing. I doubt any rebel could slip into this district.” She said nonchalantly with a shrug of her shoulders as she continued packing her bag. “Anyway, if you’re worried check on her, maybe you can give her advice.”

“Probably right.” Katla whispered to herself with a sign as she leaned against the window and stared out at the city lit up by warm, amber light pouring from the windows of the host of edifices far down. Then just as her thoughts began to shift towards the joyful courtesans in the upper districts’ taverns, she felt the unseen wave of mana spreading upwards from the floor below.

“Or maybe not.” She turned towards the door and stepped out into the empty, silent corridor where doorways led into small rooms filled with supplies and weapons, former for the prisoners, latter for their guards. Shadows danced on the walls as Katla made small steps towards the turn and then the stairs, the tips of her long, almost elven ears beset with rivets and rings of snow silver twitched as she sharpened her hearing, surveying for any and all small noises.

Then her paranoid thoughts born moments ago were proven correct when she heard steps accompanied by the dragging of something across the floor followed by the distinct creaking of rope being knotted, and followed by a soft tearing of delicate textile. And once more she felt the portentous wind of mana coursing in the space of the tower, faintly as she came to the realization that only she was aware of it.

Although, by the time Katla reached the small storage area on the fourth floor of the prison spire, Zeyneb was nowhere to be found. Inside the small space, her intense violet eyes lit up with an arcane glow as they passed through the various crates and barrels until she noticed the aethereal outlines of a person in one of them. She removed the lid and peered into the dim, narrow and round space where a dark elven auxiliary was tucked into haphazardly.

His arms bound beneath his back, his legs stretched upwards along the coarse wooden walls, winged together with the enchanted rope while his dashing and menacing face was covered by the golden, silken gauze and a rune carved onto his nightly forehead glowing with a sinister light. “Damnit.” She cursed under her breath as she rushed out from the room and headed back to the office where she felt the wind of magic sweeping through her.

The moment she reached the end of the stairs, she unsheathed her runic sword and phased engulfed it in spatial inscriptions, cleaving through space into the spacious office on the topmost floor. Her sword danced in a flurry of swings and thrusts the moment she laid eyes upon Zeyneb hunched over the table, going through the few documents left by the clerks, nothing too important as Katla cleaved right through them along with the table itself.

The momentum created by her enhanced strength sent the blade right into the floor as Zeyneb leapt away and through the table as she turned phantasmal for a short moment. Though she planned to strike back, go on the offensive she held her vambrace covered arms above her head to block the way of the blade, pumping spells into it to harden the steel pieces.

A shock shook her body upon impact, though she still proved quick enough to react and plant her feet in the armor and leather protected abdomen of Katla who slid across the floor and almost lost her footing while going through the remnants of the table. Zeyneb channeled mana through the arcane points in her legs, and swept the right before her, creating a strong gust of wind sending Katla rushing towards her into the wall to their right.

With a smile on her face, Katla leapt onto her feet and out from the way of Zeyneb’s spell aimed to knock her out as it lacked in the killing intent of will forced upon reality. And it simply dispersed like a wet balloon thrown against the wall the moment it missed its target. As Zeyneb threw and kicked one spell after another, Katla raised her arm before herself creating a round shield shaped ward which she altered to also possess the same sturdiness.

Though in the end, she sounded her surprise when the floor swallowed her in a moment’s notice, and found herself falling from the ceiling towards the ground as she was bereft of her balance whilst Zeyneb shaped a dagger out of solid shadows with mauve pinkish trims which umbral blade, she pointed at Katla. It easily passed through the enchanted defense and sent Katla into a impassive state.

Not wasting anytime, Zeyneb procured the last remaining coils of enchanted rope and bound her wrists and ankles before sealing Katla’s wide and soft pinkish lips beneath the textile gag which pressured greatly against her soft epidermis. “See you in Her gardens Sister!” She whispered while carving the rune of annihilation onto the narrow forehead then took out her own teleporting chalk and drawn a portal leading to one of the roofs in the eastern district.

From there she patiently stared up at the upper district and waited for the sun to begin its ascension over the horizon. When the golden crimson lights began to slowly lengthen, banish the penumbra of dawn, Zeyneb sat down into a meditating position and closed her eyes, focusing on the spell. A crack of doom shook the city, chunks of rock and sand fell onto the edifices including the imperial library whilst a black tower of smoke rose towards the blue skies devoid of benign clouds.

And she offered one more prayer to the lost Sister before she headed out as the sound of battles kicked off on the streets of Abrarus.

Footnotes: So who is Zeyneb? Within the story, she was a member of the Myelian Order of the Far-South, the Sakhrath-Ib-Anath which similarly to the Black Rose Order, was made up of mostly witches, sorceresses, dervishes and so on. Like the Black Rose Order, they too evolved from a Coven of Sorceresses into a military host of the Far-South. And Zeyneb was essentially the far-southern counterpart to Astrydril, a skillful agent who loves to blow shit up. During the Great War she aided the Armada of the Far-South by taking down some of the "watchtowers" of the northern sea acting as a border between the two [on top of the Maelstrom]. Though later she did get captured, escaped and played one last role though I won't expand on that, will just say there she was beheaded by Astrydril. Essentially she was created because I wanted a character who likes to blew up shit, and is an assassin weirdly.

On the Chronicles stuff, it is evident, but these stories will be more fantasy like, though still with some bondage, damsel-in-distress stuff and maybe espionage. Just wanted to expand a bit on the past, before the Magicraft boom.

Anyhow, thank you all for reading this. As per usual, the next story is scheduled for sunday. Till then stay hydrated and keep to the shadows.

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