Heleion Archives

15th of October, 111 NDE. Martial Town of Lleinae, Northern-Central Eoran.

On the upper sixty-seventh floor of the reach-tower, a sraudornian lone guard of the Wolfsair Guild – that mostly dealt in common goods and weaponry for the Union of Seekers and Adventurers – sat in his comfortable chair. He was wearing the common security uniform of the Guild – a simple warm beige hued shirt with epaulets, a folded down collar that reached up halfway his neck buttoned together and a long, slim neck tie. Matching sand brown trousers and a simple yet elegant deep brown leather shoe.

The security guard was not older than fifty, with a short neatly trimmed hair combed to the back with a few rebel strands hanging above his warm beige forehead. His eyes were a warm shade of yellow, while his face was hidden in a perfectly aligned and trimmed beard that already showed a few greys here and there.

Like every single night, he was sitting at his table in silence, only his lamp and a book in his hand. Yet he felt uneasy and often diverted his attention from the book – a historical retelling of the Battle of Sraurpoint from the viewpoint of the defenders. Every five minutes his eyes moved around the dimly lit small room with only his table and chair inside, the floor carpeted making even his footsteps soft and almost silent. On his right a door that led into a small room filled with various documents on the dealings of the guild. While in front, another led to the corridor with myriad open offices on the right side.

Each time he looked up his heart started pounding faster and heavier. Sweat formed on his forehead first and tenderly cascaded down. Then his armpits followed drenching his uniform in the appalling scent of his fluid. In the end he could not stand it anymore and stood up from his chair. His legs gave up and he collapsed down, with a frothing mouth. A few seconds later the twitching of his body stopped, his eyes lost their color as they stared eternally at the ceiling.

Soft thuds broke the momentary silence as Damarus – a young 356 year old naurdian Daormaorn appeared. Her slender, well-honed body was clad in her issued raven black dragonid leather trousers, thigh high combat boots and the Daorriath Type-IV Assassin Coat that reached down to her thighs with the backside ending in two pincers. A hood grown out from the outer heightened notched collar onyx metallic frames, and veiled her masked visage in hard shadows.

“May you rest in peace!” She kneeled down and whispered softly while staring into the lifeless eyes of the security guard. Then she took the keystone from his chest pocket below his nametag and slotted it into the contraption on the right of the door.

Stepping through Damarus stopped and inspected the room – or to be more precise searched for the Eidetic Server that contained the files she was sent here for. Eidetic Servers were magicraft machines with a core containing inscriptions of the arcana of Mind and Time. Essentially folks came here to copy their memories regarding files and documentation into these tall, rectangle dark machines.

The one she needed stood in the left corner, a bit shorter in height than the others. She reached into her left waist pocket and pulled out a small crystal of transparent dark hue embedded into a pristine snow silvery metallic round segment. As soon as she slotted it into the Eidetic Server – an unpleasant sensation washed over her as she felt her whole body go numb.

“What have we here? Seems like I got lucky.” Ahawi a native sraudornian to Central Eoran said gleefully. Her slender, athletic body clad in the security staff’s uniform with the tie loosened, the shirt buttoned down to her bountiful chest of warm reddish beige hue. With her almond contoured red eyes, she stared down at the completely limp Damarus who was overtaken with shame and anger at not noticing the agent of a rival guild with a short, dense midnight black hair that gave her a boyish look, even though her gorgeous face clearly indicated her gender.

Without saying anything else, Ahawi turned Damarus onto her sides and stacked her wrists together before she locked them with a dampening cuff she borrowed from her uniform donor. Then she patted Damarus’s body from shoulder to ankle as she inspected her pockets and searched for anything that the Daormaorn could use to free herself. In her pouch that hanged on her trouser belt, she found a still unused silver sealing tape that widened her smug.

As she peeled it open wide, she moaned softly at the harsh ripping sound that reverberated in the relatively small room. She attached the end to Damarus’s ankles she lifted with telekinesis and looped it around four or five times before she used her teeth to sever it and patted the hanging end to the rest. She repeated the same motion at the area just below the knees and the thighs for good measures. Her mentor always told her its better to be safe than sorry when it came to securing hostiles.

Before she continued binding Damarus, she grabbed her left shoulder and pulled her up into a sitting position. Then she looped the tape around the area where the utility belt lied more than fifteen times at least securing her arms to her torso.

“And time for the reveal what beauty lies under the mask.” She said playfully as she grabbed the mask where the veil started covering the mouth and extending down to the top line of the inner neck of the coat.

Pulling off, she went silent for a moment as she gazed upon the alluring visage of Damarus. Light brownish complexion with a smooth, rich lustered surface. Features perfectly aligned with eloquent round eyes with rich magenta pupils. A prominent, but cute nose above her wide lips with a gleaming, cushion soft texture. Thin dark eyebrows and an angular bob of midnight black hue – trimmed at the black a little while and a dense fringe at the front.

Ahawi could not resist the temptation that overtook her. She leaned slowly closer, their lips connected and their tongues intertwined in deep passions. A cavalcade of sweet tastes – some fruity, some confectionary – enhanced the moment in tandem with their warm breaths assaulting each other.

“Now I feel a little guilty. No regret for what I have to do.” Then the two separated and Damarus’s anger intensified at her failure hearing those words. “But do not worry, I’m going to burn your image into my mind.”

A few seconds passed by then Ahawi ripped the sealing tape open. “I bet silver looks good on you though.” Then she placed the open end over Damarus’s left cheek and wounded it across her head at least six times before she torn them apart. She gently patted the flailing end to the rest and watched as it tightened itself to Damarus’s perfectly smooth skin and hair that had a fluid luster to it.

She grabbed her shoulders that made Damarus let out a soft muffled grunt – and stared at her for a few seconds before she placed the mask back over her head and pulled the still present hood over her head.

“But you know what. Everyone deserves a chance. Here is yours.” She said as she pulled out the small keystone to the dampening cuffs and hovered it over the top of one of the Eidetic Servers.

Ahawi walked to the one near the door and half of her right arm stretched out. The space around it distorted and a crack akin to a broken mirror appeared glowing in luminous hues as it devoured her arm up to her elbow. Then she swiftly pulled it out and there was a small disk with a rectangular mirror surface in its center. At the edges long spider like legs numbering at six spread out with sharp tips.

Damarus sensed as Ahawi condensed her mana into her palms and diverted it into the magicraft device she recognized as a small controllable magicraft bomb. “Mrr crn hrnng mm mnhh mrr!” As she felt the numbness fade – the soft sensation of her aetherna satin blouse returned and calmed her senses – she tried to reason calmly with Ahawi.

The spider legged magicraft disk bomb – as it was actually named – leapt off from her palm and dug its legs into the Eidetic Server without damaging the surface and beyond. And it immediately started counting down from twenty minutes.

“I could. But I bet you’d be too heavy to carry around.” Ahawi leaned closer and guessed what Damarus tried to say while poking her lips sealed under layers of gleaming silver tape and the veil of her mask.

“Good luck. I’m rooting for you!” She patted Damarus’s shoulder before she got back up and walked to the door. Ahawi turned around one last time and pressed her right fingers against her lips as she sent an air kiss towards the already struggling Damarus – whose sharp cheeks under the mask reddened a little. Her muffled grunts went silent as Ahawi conjured a dampening aura around the room while closing the door.