5th of January, 2502 of NDE. Nilui River, Dhaerrekis Nairenthian Colony.

  “Mrchm rh!” Cerysaid woke up as a hard, yet also somewhat soft object hit the back of her head. She needed a few moments to register her surroundings, and the fact she was sitting on the floor bound with thick, brown ropes around her abdomen, about her wrists forced behind her back, tickled gently to stir her further in case the pain wasn’t enough, and her thighs and ankles. “N rm rh Mrmhrhmn Hnhhmr!” The st to register as she tried to spurt out the usual was the silver sealing tape which dug equally into her pretty, soft cheeks of the fair shade of autumnal dawn’s – a fair amber to be precise – and her single braided tail traversing down her shoulder, her new uniforms’ secondary colr and her small but firm bosom protruding forth her sleek, dragonidh leather coat.

  As her monolid eyes of a wide frame with its outer corners arcuated higher opened, revealing the light blue pearls held within them, Cerysaid slowly recalled her short day, and how she ended up in a dark, narrow space tautly bound and gagged.

  First the fogherith Farmariarh awoken in her cabin, a bit groggy from the long night spent in the Naiad-Css Marinevessel’s bar on the third deck fore part. “No more drinking. Just water.” She mumbled the same, empty promise as before, her mildly broad forehead, cheekbones tapering into her narrow chin included still buried into her soft pillow. A fact her stygian roommate reminded her whilst aiding her stirring with a spsh of conjured, cold water that banished the aching, and stirred her fully conscious.

  Then she began the long process of dressing up into their new, tailored uniform starting with the Ginnuerna Satin tactical dress shirt. Cerysaid was still a bit excited at the new pieces, took her time buttoning in the snow-silver shirt, leaving the turquoise blue colrs with their wings elongated.

  Unfolded they encircled her head, their ridges tenderly scrubbed her cheeks, then as she folded them down, the center of the wings gained a slight inwards curve, the trims simirly lightly curled whilst gliding on the stretching shoulders, the sharp tips pointed, stole down her chestline. Elegantly, now it made an angled round about her neck, the folding ridges kissed her jawline pleasantly. A narrow, V-like space betwixt them, concealed and ceased when she tied the cravat around them.

  The raven bck cravat was produced from the same silken, embroidered with a patterns of thorn vines at the trims, blooming lotus roses towards the center with pearl-shaped, draconic eyes in their center. When she finished wrapping it elegantly per the dictated Dress Protocol, she took a gnce in the mirror and looked satisfied with the wide and yered folds flowing intricately beneath the folded wings, cinching the open colr. She grabbed the snow silver Dragon Head brooch with a lone, turquoise eye, and thrusted it into the epicenter of the cravat, pinning and keeping the folds in pce.

  And like with the previous design, the hem and the cuffs were the same turquoise blue signaling her status as a Farmariarh of the seafarer corps.

  The new material it was made of still resulted in woolen stiffness, a luxurious gloss and etheric smoothness. Compared to the previous materials luster and sheen, the new Ginnuerna Satin possessed a surface smooth and lustrous as quicksilver as the silken textile’s primary ingredient was the mercurial ichor of the gargantuan Ouromandrs. Wingless and limbless draconic leviathans that soar the Void Between Worlds, the apex predators in the chartered systems. Even the Federation hunts and harvests the corpses of these behemoths, though less so to achieve opulent looks for their garments, uniforms.

  In certain lights, their mercurial blood gives a slight iridescent ripple effect when moving around, though the surface itself like with the previous fabrics remains free of wrinkles. Beforehand, when Cerysaid slipped her arms into the armholes, as her own unblemished skin brushed against the arcane silk, it gave out a low hiss, a hush akin to mild breeze passing through the leaves of a tree, whilst lulling chill passed from the fabric onto her body, clearing her mind from the previous night’s drinking.

  Following it, she pulled on the opaque tights over her panties before slipping into the boots that now stretched above her knee, with a smooth design, pointed toes, mildly elevated, ft soles zippered up on the outer sides. Then before the new coat, she leapt practically into the skirt sitting above her natural waistline, letting its hem – longer on the right – dangle a little whilst she pulled on the two buckled straps around the waist part to keep it firm whilst attaching her holster and a few pouches onto it. She even spun once, to feel the all the silken – the dress shirt, and the inner linings – brush her soft, hydrated looking skin.

  Then at st, came the new, Takarieth Type Coat – still produced of an upgraded dragonid leather. Its front still had a diagonal zipper, concealed like the dress shirt buttons by a narrow fp piece. The hem shorter on the right, longer on the left whilst betwixt them a cinched waist with structured boning and a broad waist sash further accentuating her slender, athletic silhouette after she tightened it. The firm, stiff cuffs were fashioned in a pentagonal shape with the lone sharp point situated beneath the wrist.

  On the upper end, a padded, structured shoulder with a sharp, angur look, from its center arose the double tiered colr. The primary, prominent one called the High Bulwark-Colr the Vordriars of the Svatria Branch also sport, except the seafarer branch has a slightly different dress-protocol for it. Unlike the vordriars who leave the starched colr straight, broadly encircling their necks, Cerysaid grabbed onto the center-front edges, and with a minor spell, made the colr curve at its center and ridge until it resembled a high wave. The secondary colr itself was a stiff, vertical square sprawling over the shoulders and the chestline, sprouting forth the base of the elevated square neckline.

  This whole process was nearly the first hour of her day, searching for any blemish she may have missed whilst dressing. When at st satisfied, Cerysaid and her cabin Sister – a fellow Fafmariarh – headed straight to the cantina on the same second deck, not far from the source of her hangover. With it still lingering in her, she wished and expected a quite uneventful day spent in the lower decks, patrolling the corridors.

  So far in their half a month-long travel, nothing much happened at all. There were only two attacks of the ‘locales’, the Drahmin as they called themselves. Technically a tribe of sraudornians who most likely were part of a Colony Vessel in the early years of exploring, whose vessel crashed somewhere on the pnet home to endless dunes and gargantuan worms burrowing deep beneath them. Worms they tamed through the centuries they spent cut off from Heleion.

  After the breakfast, she got her assignment, the expected patrol. Though what she did not expect was to be assigned to the section near the Thegrith’s Cabin. A rge apartment practically on the long marinevessel, consisting of at least three rooms as far as she heard. A living room that was the rgest, a bedroom with a canopied bed and compartments built into the walls where her uniform and other garments were kept, alongside some extra freight besides what they transported.

  “Rrm mrr rh Hnhhmr?” Her fellow captive whose sweet, orange scent slipped into her small nostrils stirred her from the remembrance of her day. A scent she recognized belonging to the fellow, naurdian Farmariarh who stood guard before the Thegrith’s cabin. Luxuriant, vibrant light brownish hair cut short, at the front swooping over the left side, her face free from strands, expressive roundish eyes of a bold green, quite tall with a slightly muscur frame compared to the slenderer Cerysaid.

  Cerysaid she remembered greeting her once, and for a moment recalled that by the third turn, she had a different scent. A bit spicier, cinnamon like but at the time her mind was drawn, excited about the city so she paid little attention to this change. By the fifth turn, she was absent from her post, that led her to a few minutes of ruminating whether to enter the Thegrith’s cabin or make another round. They were not allowed to leave their post, except if it was something really important. She thought at first, maybe Thegrith Pau came and asked for her aid in something, so she made her next round.

  But by the sixth, her curiosity led to her pressing her right ear against the door, and heard nothing from inside. “Well, in the worst case, I get a pat on the shoulders?” She though as she reached for the snow silvery knob sculpted to resemble the beloved symbol of the Bck Rose Coven.

  Stepping in she was greeted by boxes, luggage, clothes all thrown over the polished, bck oaken floor, even a few dresses id at the base of the panorama window with a nice view to the boring dunes stretching into the searing infinity. Immediately, she reached for her wand pistol, led by a thirst for promotion as she muffled her steps with a minor spell. Her eyes slowly swept over the room, looking behind the bar and opening up the two storage compartments in the living room before surveying the bathroom.

  Then as she slowly opened the door, pointing her wand pistol’s angur barrel straight forward, she recalled seeing her naurdian sister with a strange mirth, then her sight became blurry as she recalled the hiss followed by a sweet scent that pulled her lids over her eyes, sapped her strength in a moment’s notice. “Hrcch, N hhrrrn hrhm hhrh.” Her head buried into her sleek colrs jerked up, rustling the few strands of her angled bangs as she cursed her momentary hesitation to not shoot. As she done so, she let out a muffled hiss and whimper as the adhesive pulled her silken strands, gnawed a little into her soft flesh.

  “Mhrh nh nh? Mrr hrrnn hrmmhhnng?” The sister bound to her, turned her head, her hopeful gaze searching the dark compartment whether her fellow found anything to free themselves. Cerysaid asked back what she tried to say, and the two chatted incoherently through their gags. Their tones gradually turning aggressive as they tried to decipher the meaning behind the groans, the moans, the whimpers whilst they squirmed. Cerysaid left, her fellow captive towards the right, then they swapped without coordination as neither wanted to be found bound and gagged in their superior’s wardrobe.

  Then a little light escaped, shining onto the drawers before Cerysaid, and the bumped heads as they all looked hopefully towards the opening door. “Good morning. Hope you two are comfortable inside.” Before them stood Rhommi, cd in her lustrous, waxed catsuit with her white mocking mask and soft leathery veil. Even though neither saw her eyes, the darkness in the mask’s eyeholes mocked them both as they let out a muffled groan in unison.

  Both were well aware by now, they had little chance to free themselves, or even foil the thief whose mask identified her within seconds. A wide mask with sharp, defined outlines of an elvish, feminine face with dark lips, eyeliner painted on around the dark, seemingly empty holes of the prominent elven almond frame. Cheeks rising out like and with tints of violet and pink. And from the trims, distressed leather grown and encompassed her whole head, adjoining the rest of her full body suit with a veiled zipper line at the center. In the door stood, Rhommi the infamous thief who left many of her Sisters in simir predicaments throughout the centuries.

  And like their Sisters, the two squirmed in their taut bindings, trying to lean forward only to be pushed back against each other. Rope moaned with each effort, the dragonid leather’s crisp rustling mingled with it and their muffled groans and grunts as they tried to spew hateful words expressing their feeling towards the Godborn thief who chuckled lightly beneath her mask.

  Her chuckling died down suddenly. “Fear not, you shall have ample time to practice escaping from the bindings. Thegrith Pau is quite preoccupied at the moment, she asked not to be disturbed.” Slowly she locked the door on them, shutting them inside the mildly spacious wardrobe, as if she engraved the sight of the two bound and gagged Farmariarhs. With the click, silence filled the bedroom, whilst inside the pleasant melody of the struggling continued well into an hour.

  And even then, escape seemed far away in the proverbial distance whilst their marine-faring vessel strode down the river whilst the sun slowly descended below the searing horizon. It was during the dark, when a few patrolling guards mentioned a faint spshing and looked out into the dark, hopefully to see one of the peculiar, leaping eels of Dhaerrekis…

  Afterword

  And another one, the st for this month. Also a heads up, February I'll take off though I already wrote up the next two Bound Diaries, but want to get ahead a bit on top of writing the story atm titled Hectic Days. Nearly finished with its outlining. So hopefully, either an April or by May I'll be done with it.

  Now, just a few facts: As I think mentioned in one of st years december stories, the Void Between Worlds stories will all set post 2500 NDE. Here there will be some changes, minor ones like some upgrades and changes in the Bck Roses' uniforms, like now they all have tiered colrs, each varying a bit, there were changes in the leadership with certain Hersiths passed away and others taking pce like Astrydril who reluctantly took the position and a new material was found in the rgest, dragon cssified monsters of the Void Between Worlds. And now they took back the Coven into their name. Simirly, the some other Hosts will follow in suit.

  Another change in regards to one of the next stories, that now the Bck Roses have a sizeable rival after the central Myelian Sects united alongside the remnants of the Sakhrath-Ib-Anath who may show up in the longer stories going forward, and set in the far-south of course. A rge organization, a coven of that also includes some of the less featured races and men to provide additional GID material.

  Also yeah, this pnet was partially inspired by Arrakis, and probably will be a source of conflict in Trade Wars to come within the Great Dominion of Heleion.

  Lastly, in regards of Hectic Days story. The characters. From the side of the Bck Roses, there will be Maleern who was featured once in a short story from two years ago now I believe [The Red Coat story inspired by a Golgo 13 episode] and Arvindel who is now an umbral dracorith [in the previous iteration she was simply a shadow/umbral elf]. A new character, though not sure how much I shall feature him is Mereddyd Pennry, a Presidential Elect for the United Republics of Eoran whose father fought besides the separatists during the Colonial War, and he himself has a vendetta against the cartels. There are a few more Raven Eyes and his Presidential Guard but I leave them to be revealed during the story.

  On the opposing side is a warlock, assassin Tovorn, a lunar dracorith agent of the yet to be named Cabal, and one of the ugliest elves with high self-esteem. And three cartel assassins working with him during the story, but they shall also be revealed with the story.

  Thank you all for reading this, hope you enjoyed these short ones. Have a nice weekend, February and see you all in March's first week.

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