Heleion Archives

17^th of December, 120 NDE. Small Town of Escagua, South of Central Eoran.

            “Excuse me for holding the meeting in such place and time. But these past few weeks have been quite hectic with the end of the year celebrations approaching. I hope you understand?” The pinched face half-elven sraudornian man dressed nicely in a full suit – Gustavar Escagua – said in his deep, raspy voice while his sol elven father’s corpse was dragged away by his cartel’s soldiers. Yet they could not fully make out all his features, except for the thick, dark bush of hair and beard and the sharp almost elvish eyes with pupils blessed with all the hues of the sun’s cycles.

“No problems.” Hiidela’moerth said calmly as they sat facing him on the opposite side of the desk. Their silenced wand pistol resting on their lap still emitting a faint residue of mana. They turned their head a bit to the right where Gustavar’s sibling laid lifeless – their hands and ankles secured with mana ties and a wide strip of golden sealing tape wounded across their faces – with a single hole in the center of their forehead, crimson tear line poured from their eyes.

“That will be the bonus that comes with the mission I’m entrusting to you.” Gustavar said as he snapped his fingers and his large, amber scaled dragonkin bodyguard brought him a large suitcase. “They may have been my rivals, but they were still my siblings. So please accept this heartfeltly from me as a thanks.”

“Is there anymore left?” Hiidela’moerth asked before opening the suitcase – as they were all taught to ask when receiving in parts, even if the first was labelled as a bonus.

“There are a few. But your job isn’t about them. The job is about one of yours.” Gustavar answered while he picked out a bottle of whiskey from the desk’s top drawer and offered a glass to them. They declined respectfully while feeling a bit intrigued.

“It is about the assassin my father hired to take care of Fabian of the Correa Cartel. Or formerly the Correa Cartel.” Before he continued, Gustavar tasted the seven century old whiskey his dad made way before he migrated to Eoran.

“So far, we have been lucky they remained silent. But it would be preferable to not worry whether they will speak or not. I bet your little order thinks the same?” Gustavar looked sharply at Hiidela’moerth who nodded silently.

“How do you plan for me to reach Virge’moeth?” Then they asked without hesitation, their eyes devoid of emotion.

“Straight to business. You see I was lucky enough to get my hands on the clerk whom delivered them to the sky-fortress prison of theirs. And overlooked their interrogation for the past few decades.” He answered as he reached into his fine, grayish black suits’ inner pockets and threw a few photographs of Durephra onto the imposing table.

Without saying anything, Hiidela’moerth inspected each photograph during which his eyes lit up with arcane energies. “She’s waiting a few kilometers south of here in a small hideout of ours. She cost me a lot to get, so be thorough.” Then they looked back at Gustavor.

“Just follow the road to the west!” After getting the information, Hiidela’moerth respectfully bowed left the mansion decorated in the corpses of cartel soldiers, each with a slit throat.

**

The warm air that poured inside the driver’s side of the car felt nice as it breezed their face tenderly. For a moment the magicraft golem engine slowed down as they deactivated a few of the mana crystals that generated and poured mana and inscriptions into the engine. Their eyes focused on the high landscape spreading far, colorful trees as far as the eye could see. The golden amber hue of the sun was just the cherry on top as they exhaled calmly.

When they noticed the little white house with vibrant red tiled roof, the deactivated mana crystals turned on and started pouring the enchantment inscriptions and mana inside the engine. The car roared softly as it slowly gained pace and the house that was tiny moments ago, gradually grew in size.

“She is inside.” As they stepped out, two loyal man – a dark elf and a summerborn – greeted them. They ignored the two cartel soldier and watched the sun descend down the horizon. Then Hiidela’moerth threw the keystone to the car to them and the two left without uttering a word.

For a few moments Hiidela’moerth watched the house, their eyes moved across the pristine dry surface of the wall. While windows appeared to showcase a tiny frame of the interior – a typical central-eoranian kitchen that was large enough to fit the whole family, from great-grandfather to youngest newborn child. The other showed into the even larger living room where a small platoon of soldiers could easily fit in and or move around comfortably. It was quite common for the wealthier members of the world to build their homes, villas, manors with enchanted materials that expanded the spaces within beyond the natural limits of the exterior.

And what was even more common for the less savory members of societies was that windows showed a lie. Hiidela’moerth served as a cartel assassin for two centuries now. They took care of numerous enemies of the Escagua family including even their own sometimes. Gustavar and his now deceased siblings weren’t the only children of the former head.

They even took care of local politicians who had a vendetta against the nine families that ruled the underworld of central and south eoran. Many whom to that day were labeled as missing, yet everyone knew that there was nothing left to find of them anymore.

Yet Hiidela’moerth stood frozen by a sense of dread – as they concluded in their heads with some uncertainty. The last time they felt this when they when through the harsh training of the Matron, that forged most of them into emotionless killing tools for the cartels. Except for Virge’moeth whom still retained managed to force a smile on her face, make love. She was an oddity in Hiidela’moerth’s mind.

But the real reason for their dread was none another than the captive inside. While they knew the procedure to perfectly erase anything that could leave traces, it was still the first time a cartel dared to kidnap someone that was part of a foreign force. Nabbing politicians, locals, members of the United Eoran Forces was fine and the cartels did wage a shadow war against the Republics. But the Black Roses, everyone knew what happened to the Coven of the Forsaken and many others whom declared war on them or just simply took one of their own.

For a few moments, Hiidela’moerth’s head turned in the direction where the two cartel members left. Thoughts of going back, killing them and Gustavar went through their mind. They took small, measured breaths before thoughts of the infamy that may come with this task’s success won in the end and let them move their legs forward.

**

The warm walled room she stepped into was quite spacious and barely furniture, clearly telling what was its true purpose. A few cabinets were positioned at the eastern wall – each filled with various alchemical concoctions used to disappear folk who spoke or fought against the veiled tyranny of the cartel in the southern region. On their right further from the entrance was a single door that led into where the interrogation of the captives usually went down. The stench of sweat and blood still oozed through the thick door, even though the last interrogation was four days ago.

Opposite to the cabinets were a long counter rested directly to the wall. On it a few bottles, magicraft tools used for torture, coils of rope and used golden and black sealing tapes laid. The only thing that stood out from the rest were the shiny leathery attire – the Hirdrian Type-IV short coat that was a fusion of suit and a coat – neatly folded and stacked on top of the skirt it was paired with. On its left the thigh high heels stood with the shaft that usually stood proudly, wrapped around the leg – collapsed down to the left. And on the right the snow silvery blouse rested, neatly folded just like the coat and skirt.

Similarly to the cabinets – opposite to the center – a door led further in to the area where the stationed members of the cartel rested between torture or disposing of bodies. “Mhr rrm mrr?” Speaking of which – in the center of the room, Hiidela’moerth instantly noticed the naked and bound Durephra hanging above the body disposal circle as the cartel members preferred to refer to it.

“Hrmm mm rnn mrr hhrrr hm rmmrrnmn!” As Hiidela’moerth approached the bound, upside down Durephra – she tried to reason with them quite unsuccessfully as a wide strip of golden sealing tape ran across from right to left cheek. Her deep, blue body exposed with coils of brass enchanted ropes cutting into her soft, gleaming skin. Hiidela’moerth counted at least one coil used to bound the chest area, running between the bountiful dark breasts, and connecting to the coil used to keeping her elbows tightly restrained.

Another was used as a crotch rope and the further down – or in this case up – their eyes went, at least three more coils were used to tightly bind the legs together. In total there were at least eight coils used – the last being the one that kept her above the murky gray liquid that resembled molten alloy with bubbles appearing and popping constantly. A vile scented mist flew upwards and got swallowed by the ceiling.

“Rnhmmr mm nrmnnh!” Durephra tried to yell, but as before it came out as long muffled mewl as her taped eyes followed the steps of Hiidela’moerth approaching the counter. They ignored her muffled pleas and started undressing from their elegant black and white suit with a white buttoned down shirt and cotton gray trousers. While they got out from the trousers, their feet phased through the sharp shoes with metallic frames.

Within a few second filled with the constant muffled groans and moans of Durephra, Hiidela’moerth dressed up in the clerk uniform and walked towards Durephra with their silenced wand pistol in hand.

They grabbed her temples and dark blue and mauve energies wrapped around their fingers and swirled towards the thick, gleaming white hair that was once in the shape of an angular bob – now it flowed towards certain doom – hidden temples. As the energies connected, memories flown into their mind and their face slowly turned into Durephra’s. Her body contorted little as it matched the relatively tall height of Durephra. Then as it finished her eyes opened and walked back a few steps while raising her arm. One last muffled whimper followed as a hole appeared in her forehead, snow silvery blood draped towards the devouring liquid below. Another shot aimed at the connecting rope going through the beams sent the corpse into the liquid.

Without a single drop falling out – the liquid devoured the body in a blink of an eye. For a few moment Hiidela’moerth watched bubbles appear and poke. Then the enchanted ropes and the two strips of tape raised to the surface before they too – vanished into oblivion.