A rare smirk spread across the warrior’s face when her target stepped back for a breath. The light, nimble woman felt a sense of pride bubble up from within. She flipped the sword in her hand and crouched low in her stance, dancing back and forth on quick feet.

“You’re really going to make me wait?” her steady voice said, without a trace of emotion.

“Wipe that look off your face, Taria, or I’ll incinerate you!”

Taria’s smirk widened a bit.

“Really, Lanala? Do you think you would do that even if you could?”

“Well... no,” Lanala said. “But don’t think I can’t!”

“Remind me. What’s your specialty in magic again?” Taria asked.

“What?”

“Wards and Lightning, right? Powerful stuff, too. But there’s not a shred of pyromancer in you, Lanala.”

“Damn it,” Lanala grumbled. “Look, that kind of banter usually works on bandits!”

“That’s because they don’t know you’re bluffing,” Taria said. “In more ways than one.”

Lanala glared at the shorter woman who stood before her with a steady gaze and the slightest trace of a smirk across her face. The spellcaster often remarked what oddly coloured eyes and hair their group of seven all had and Taria was no exception. The warrior’s dark, purple eyes contrasted against Lanala’s own odd orange coloured eyes. But Taria’s hair was exquisite, Lanala thought with a tinge of jealousy. It always just fell into shape. Even in the morning, after just rolling out of bed, Taria’s wonderful, dark blue hair was perfect, straight, and shiny. It hung from her head in a loose bob with part of the fringe hanging over her right eye. It shrouded her face a bit and gave Taria an alluring air of mystique.

The spellcaster could not fathom how someone so much smaller could be such a strong fighter. Taria stood more than a full head shorter than Lanala. She was athletic and had toned arm and leg muscles but she was one of the shortest in the group. It made no sense to Lanala how Taria could always defeat her in sparring matches. But then Lanala thought of her blinding speed. Taria was nimble, agile, and devastatingly fast. She wielded her shortsword better than almost any known warrior on the Island of Ikaatan and she could overwhelm any opponent in a blink.

She always dressed for function as well. Taria wore all green, save for the blue laces on her shoes, which just barely reached the top of her ankles. She refused heavy armour of any kind. A light, sleeveless top, form-fitting shorts, and thick, leather bracers were all she needed to head into battle. Most combatants couldn’t keep up with her anyway so it wasn’t like Taria needed the protection.

“Come on, Lanala,” Taria taunted in that irritatingly calm, measured tone. “What are we waiting around for?”

Lanala caught a glimpse of her wife, their leader Artema, out of the corner of her eye. Artema watched the scene with her arms folded and nodded at Lanala to continue. The spellcaster nodded back to her hulking wife and plucked the short staff from her belt. Small, blue electrical bolts arced at its tip.

“Come at me then, Taria,” Lanala said.

She regretted saying it almost immediately. The lithe, nimble warrior leapt at her and Lanala could not keep track of her. Holding the short staff in front of her in a defensive stance, Lanala blocked every strike of Taria’s shortsword that she could. Taria didn’t hit her full on, of course, tapping the flat part of her blade all over Lanala’s body. Lanala stepped every way she could to try and get sight of her opponent but Taria was too quick. She was in and out of sight before Lanala could find time to think.

In that moment, Taria started to feel cocky. She even decided to slow down and stepped right into Lanala’s field of vision. She brought her sword down toward the spellcaster’s head without realizing that she had given Lanala time to defend herself. The short staff clanged against the sword and a sharp jolt of electrical energy jumped through the blade and into Taria’s arm. She winced and dropped the sword on the ground at her feet. As she moved to pick it up again, the arcing tip of Lanala’s staff was pointed in her face.

“Yield,” Lanala said.

Taria refused and dove for the sword but Lanala tapped her with the staff again. Another shock coursed through Taria’s arm and she jumped back. Her sword was out of reach now. Lanala again pointed the tip of the staff in Taria’s face.

“I said yield.”

“Damn it,” Taria said. “Fine.”

“That’s enough,” said the stern voice of Artema.

“So? Do I win?” Lanala asked, flashing her wife a smile.

“No, Lanala. Taria would have disarmed you easily if she hadn’t gotten overconfident. You can’t rely on luck in hand-to-hand combat.”

“What? But she yielded!”

“That she did. But she would have beaten you. Therefore, I declare no contest.”

“Artema-”

“Am I wrong, Lanala? Would you have beaten Taria in a fair fight?”

Lanala sighed.

“No.”

“And Taria,” Artema said. “You know better than to let your guard down like that. I thought I taught you better.”

Taria’s eyes reverted to their default, serious look and her face went back to her usual, stoic self.

“I’m sorry, Artema. I lost myself for a moment. Were this a real fight I would not have been so complacent.”

“That’s no excuse, Taria. We train so that we may be better prepared in the field. If you get complacent in a practice fight you’ll start to learn that you can be complacent in a real fight. That is something I cannot abide.”

“Of course, Artema. I am sorry,” Taria said.

Artema let out a long breath and placed a hand on Lanala’s shoulder.

“You’ve done enough for today. Go get some rest. When you’re ready, meet me by the training dummies. I have some things to show you, Lanala.”

“I will, Artema,” Lanala said.

The tall spellcaster left the remaining two warriors alone in the sparring arena surrounded by the trees of the Dasi Forest. The arena was a large, circular clearing in the trees with two wooden poles marking the starting position of two combatants.

Taria could not meet her leader’s eyes when the huge woman stood over her.

“Taria, I’ve got a very dangerous job for you and it may require further training.”

“Ma’am?” Taria said, furrowing her brow.

“Get to the training cell in five minutes. You’ve excelled in your escape training. It’s time for level four.”

“Ma’am, with all due respect, I don’t think that will be necessary. Whatever the job, I will not be captured. It has never happened and it never will.”

“Don’t speak in absolutes, Taria,” Artema said, a slight edge to her voice. “Nothing in this world is certain. Training cell. Five minutes. Don’t make me drag you there.”

Taria knew she was nimble but so was Artema for her size. Refusing an order would just make the massive woman angry and no one liked to see Artema angry.

“Of course. As you say, ma’am.”

Artema left without another word. Taria retrieved her sword and replaced it in its sheathe. She sighed at the prospect of more escape training. It was true, she had excelled at it better than the others in the order, aside from Artema, but she hated it. Taria hid the fact well that she liked to be tied up but it had to be on her terms. Escape training, needless to say, was not on her terms and the more time she spent in bondage without her own terms the angrier she got. It was as though some raging beast took hold of her when she was bound and gagged. Her emotions would run out of control most of the time and it took more effort to keep them curbed than the actual act of escaping. She had managed to channel this rage over many sessions of the first three levels, all of it varying degrees of rope ties. But level four was... not going to be a pleasant experience.

Taria rolled her shoulders and stretched her toned muscles to limber them up. She knew she wouldn’t be using her limbs for a while so it helped to be prepared.

...

All she could smell was thick leather and it was beginning to irritate her. Taria growled beneath the thick muzzle that surrounded her head and chewed on the damp cloth that filled her mouth. She strained hard against all of her strong bonds but nothing moved. The thick leather groaned a bit with the effort but it refused to give.

Taria felt the thick leather straps all over her body. They dug into her skin and kept her completely immobilized. Five straps kept her shapely, muscular legs entrapped at the ankles, calves, knees, and thighs. Her hands were crossed behind her back and two straps wound their way around her wrists and kept them in a tight embrace. Another, longer strap wrapped around her waist and kept her wrists pinned to her back. It was looped around her wrists as well to keep them in place. Four more straps wound around her upper body above and below her breasts and kept her toned arms pinned at her sides. A final, incredibly thick strap attached her ankles to the  harness of the muzzle around her head, forcing her back into an arch and keeping her head raised.

Taria growled and thrashed about in her bonds but nothing came loose. She had been in a hogtie before in training but never one so brutal. To make it worse, Artema pulled every strap as tight as she could and her incredible strength made struggling nigh impossible for Taria.

“MMMMMRRRRGHHH!”





She snarled at the straps binding her and thrashed about again. Nothing she could do seemed to make any of her bonds budge. But it was that much harder when all of the anger threatened to overtake her mind. Taria could feel Artema’s eyes watching her and it frustrated her even more. She hated to fail in front of the strong leader of the Order of Ikaatan. She was the order’s best fighter, aside from Artema, and failure was just not an option.

“Mrgh! Mmph! MMPH! MMMPPH! MMMMRRRGGHH!” she shouted, cursed, and growled at the terrible bonds that held her captive but her muzzle gag kept those sounds to a quiet murmur of grunts and squeaks.

Taria tried to rest her head on the floor but she felt the strap resist her pull.

“MMPH! MMMP! MMRRGH!”

Her neck remained craned upward and her tired muscles screamed from the effort of struggling. How long had it been? Artema said she had two hours to escape from level four, the second highest level of escape training, but Taria didn’t keep track of the time. She tried to turn her head toward Artema, who watched her from the barred window with arms folded. But the infernal strap hogtying her made the simple act of turning her head incredibly difficult. Taria swore.

“FHHHGK!”

“There’s no call for that, Taria,” Artema’s calm voice said from the window. “I may just leave you in there if you use language like that.”

“NNRRRGGGHHK!’ Taria snarled under her gag. Another moment of this bondage would drive her insane. She had to get out of this damn cell. She tried to call out to her leader.

“Agghhmmmph,” she said. To her surprise, Artema understood her.

“What’s the matter, Taria?”

“Hggmmph mmmph tmmmph mmm mm hghmnph eghpph?”

Artema paused for a long time and tried to parse what exactly Taria had said into her muzzle. It came to her slowly and she didn’t know exactly what words Taria tried to say but she realized what the lithe warrior was trying to ask.

“Time?”

“Hggmmph!’ Taria said, rocking her body back and forth when she tried to nod.

“Another hour. It’s a tough tie to escape from. I have to give you time to practice with it.”

“WHHGGMM!? MMM MMMRGH!?”

“Stay calm, Taria. Focus. Think strategically. Where should you attack your bindings first? I don’t expect you to escape on your first try but I do expect you to learn.”

“Hmmmmm....” Taria sighed. She tried to let her head fall again but that cursed strap kept it raised.

“GMMDGH DMMM MMMGH!”

“Try to think of it this way. It could be worse. It could be level five,” Artema said.

Taria’s eyes hardened and she stopped moving for a moment. Another attempt to turn her head toward Artema was stymied by the tight strap binding her head to her ankles. She decided then to try and roll on her side but her arched position made that difficult. She decided to give that up for the time being and just listen to what Artema would say.

“Level five is chains and shackles, Taria. You’ll be shackled in a standing position against the wall in the corner of the cell. It looks inescapable but it is not. You just have to have patience and concentration. Like now with your predicament. This is very challenging, yes, but the final challenge is worse yet. Just think. Once you master level five, escape training will never be mandatory again.”

Taria liked the sound of that. But she still had to master level four. And it really felt like it had beaten her this time.

“Just focus and think about what to do, Taria. Once time is up, I’ll make it a little less restrictive for you and you can think some more in the quiet room. But that will come later. Now, get back to it.”

Taria growled again. The quiet room sounded nice right about now. It would certainly be more comfortable than this blasted cell. The serenity of the room always made her bondage just a bit more bearable. But for now she had to try and figure out these damn bindings. Taria went back to thrashing and squirming, snarling and growling into her gag the whole while.

“NNNRGGHK! MMMRGH! MMPH MMMMMPH!”

...

“Time’s up,” Artema finally said.

Taria had managed to make one of the straps on her legs loosen but she realized that was out of pure luck and had nothing to do with her actually figuring anything out. Artema knelt down and undid the strap that bound Taria’s ankles to her muzzle. The smaller warrior groaned in relief as Artema scooped her up in her massive arms.

“Four hours in the quiet room, “Artema said. “It’ll do you good.”

“Hrmph,” Taria grunted. She was just glad to be rid of that horrific hogtie.

It was a short walk down the hallway to the soft, comfortable quiet room. Artema was sure to be gentle with Taria when she put her down into the centre of the semicircle of lit candles. Taria let out a long breath through her nose and stretched her bound legs out into her sitting position. Artema knelt down and managed a smile for her.

“I know you think you did poorly. But you handled it well. I’ve seen you angrier in there.”

“Hmmph.”

"How does your back feel?”

Taria stretched her back and felt it groan a bit but she found it wasn’t as sore as she’d been expecting.

“Mmph,” she said, shrugging. Well, as much as she could shrug, anyway.

“That’s good. That hogtie nearly did me in as well. It’s tough. Took me a long time to finally escape from. Those straps are tough.”

“Mmm hmmmph,” Taria said in agreement.

Artema produced a piece of thick leather and held it up in the dim light.

“All right. Will you be all right with the blindfold?” Artema asked.

“Mmph,” Taria said, with another restrained shrug.

“Good. It’ll help you relax.”

Artema buckled the thick leather blindfold over Taria’s head and the room went completely dark. Taria heard Artema stand up and head for the door. She sighed and rolled over onto her side. Taria tucked her legs up into a fetal position and let her muscles relax.

“That’s the spirit,” Artema said. “I’ll come back in four hours. And when I do, I want to trade places. I think I need to relax for awhile.”

“Mmph,” Taria grunted.

Artema said nothing more and slid the door closed and placed the heavy wooden bar down on the outside. Taria let loose another long sigh and emptied her mind. She shifted a bit against her bonds but they held firm.

“Hmmmph...” she groaned. She could feel herself getting angry again but the soft floor of the quiet room and the total darkness provided by the blindfold melted it away. For now Taria would sit and relax in her bondage until Artema came to release her. Despite all her rage at being bound and gagged, the quiet room was such a welcome relief. Taria used that relief to think and strategize. She wouldn’t mess up another sparring match. And she would escape that dreaded hogtie. These were certainties in her mind. She held those thoughts up in her mind before her exhausted mind and body gave in and she drifted off, still bound, gagged, and blindfolded, into a deep sleep.