Chapter 2: The Restraint.

Soleil inhales deeply through her nostrils; the mercenary's mouth has been gagged to silence her. What a mess she had gotten into this time, the outcome unclear but open to assumptions. She has been left alone for the time being, her captors have already made their intentions clear. A bead of sweat trickled down her forehead; she needed to escape quickly. Even the simplest of minds could guess what a gang of unruly men plan to do with a captured young woman, but Soleil swore to herself that she wouldn't allow such a thing to transpire. Her mind stormed possibilities of escape, but anger was starting to overtake her thoughts. Damn them. Damn all men for being horrible, disgusting brutes. Soleil was merciless in her mental onslaught of curses. She recalled the filth that came from her captors mouths.

"The gods sure have smiled upon us today with the gift of a fine lass like you," one of them said, cruel intentions in his tone. "I can't wait to ravish this one as I please," chimed in another, a wicked sneer plastered on his face. They were run-of-the-mill ruffians; very little manners or hygiene. Their clothing tattered and torn, with blood stains here and there. Their head and facial hair poorly kept, their skin dirty and lined with battle scars. Each carried a sharp weapon and an evil grin, clearly they were the real deal.

Soleil struggled in her restraints. She had been lucky enough to be unharmed as of yet. The sick dastards had set about a few candles, almost as if to set the mood for a romantic affair. Soleil assumed the two had left to converse with the others of their group, most likely to discuss how they would have their way with her. The wooden chair she was tied to wobbled back and forth as a result of her exertion. She growled deeply in frustration.

Was this it? Has she truly messed up for the last time? Her anger quickly faded to a different emotion, one she was not used to feeling. Fear. The hero's eyes welled up as her breathing became labored. She didn't want to be a product of another's amusement. Soleil began to panic. Stories were often heard of maidens captured and mutilated by bandits, only to be discovered weeks later in disturbing condition. That is of course only if the captors grew bored of their plaything. Soleil imagined how her parents were going to feel once they receive the news. The image of her mother crying pushed Soleil further into hysterics. She began thrashing wildly against the ropes, burns and tears quickly forming on her bare skin. When she first became aware of the criminal's' whereabouts, she was certain she could single-handedly take them on. Now here she is, helpless and bloody.

Soleil's eyes widen as she hears footsteps just outside the doorway. She panics again, a figure soon entering and appearing before her.

A thin, radiant figure.

"Soleil!" Ophelia whispers hastily, her finally finding her friend. Soleil can barely believe her eyes. Tears of joy quickly form as she shouts her friend's name against her gag. "Gods," continues Ophelia. "What have those barbarians done to you?" She rushes to Soleil's aid and unties her feet from the chair. "Fear not, now that we're united, we shall escape unscathed!" Ophelia then winces as she notices the horrific marks on Soleil's arms and legs from her struggling. She stifles back a tear, knowing that she must be strong and focus. Revenge was definitely on her mind.

Soleil suddenly emits a muffled scream, making Ophelia jump in surprise. "What? What's wron-"

A steel club is suddenly brought drown upon the mage's head, instantly rendering her unconscious. Soleil screams once more as Ophelia falls onto the floor, a tall burly man standing behind her. Accompanying him is a more scrawny man, who starts laughing at Ophelia's now motionless body. The door to the room has been closed and locked. Both bandits had acted quickly once they noticed Ophelia's presence.

"Would ya' look at this! Looks like we got another treat to enjoy!" snarls the tall one. The scrawny man crouches at the sorceress's side. "Damn! The gods sure were generous when they shaped this maiden!" he chuckles, almost drooling. "I do believe those are the biggest breasts I've ever seen on a lass her size!"

Soleil's face flushed. How dare they harm her little butterfly? She began to struggle ferociously. The tall man smirks and turns toward Soleil. "Is this one of your friends?" He lowers himself to her unconscious body as well, dropping the steel club to the ground. "We're glad she decided to join us!" Soleil was seething with rage. If only mere gazes could kill, both ruffians would be beyond massacred.

The scrawny man grunts in frustration. "The others don't know about her yet, I say we get first dibs!" Soleil's heart dropped upon hearing these words. The tall man grimaced, almost as if he was unsure. "But what if… oh, damn it all!" Soleil's eyes widened. If they dare lay even a finger on her, by the gods I'll-

The tall man suddenly has a large, creepy smile stretched across his face. "I can't pass this up!" With that, he suddenly reaches out and grapples upon Ophelia's left breast. "Gods, this is amazing! I'm gonna make this whore all mine!" Soleil immediately begins shouting muffled threats and curses at the two scoundrels. The tall one suddenly stands up. He towers over the restrained mercenary. "Silence, you filthy tramp!" he shouts as he pulls his muscular arm back. Before Soleil has a moment to react, he strikes the side of her face with all of his might. The force from the smack knocks the chair against the floor, pulling Soleil with it. For a few seconds, all she can see is darkness. Then a high-pitched ringing noise becomes deafening in the ear that she had been hit. The left side of her face begins to sting, although the adrenaline rushing through her veins somewhat dulls the pain.

The scrawny man laughs again. "Don't hit her too hard now," he says, "I want her to look somewhat attractive while she's servicing me! Besides, this room is completely soundproof. All the screaming in the world won't alert the others!" The man's words barely registered in Soleil's mind. She could take a hit better than Ophelia, but the blow had still been enough to daze her. She lays against the hard floor painfully, recollecting her thoughts while her face throbs, already starting to swell.

"Now, where were we?" The two bandits return to the mage's motionless body. A thin trail of blood has trickled down Ophelia's forehead; she more than likely suffered a concussion. Her facial expression could almost be mistaken as peaceful, both eyes gently closed and lips just slightly parted. The scrawny man rubs his hands together. "Now, let's get these pesky clothes outta' the way!"

Soleil can only lay helplessly and watch. She then feels a burning sensation on her arm. Her heart starts to palpitate as she comes to a realization: she had been knocked down near one of the candles that have been set out earlier. This is my chance! Soleil uses her free legs to slowly maneuver herself, hoping to burn the ropes off of her hands using the candle's flame. She hopes to the gods that the bandit's don't notice her only chance of escape.

Speaking of which, the two men were now in the presence of Ophelia's bare chest. "Gods," said the tall one in a low, perverted tone.

Eyes gently flutter open, before widening in terror. Ophelia had awoken, only to have the tall man bring a steel dagger to her throat. "Don't ya' dare scream, or I'll silence ya' permanently!" he threatened with apathetic eyes. "Wouldn't want that, now would we, lass?" added the scrawny man with a smirk. "I would like to hear ya' moans once we start havin' fun together!" Ophelia then gasps sharply as her right breast is grabbed, unable to do a thing about it.

"...please…" she cries, a tear streaming down her cheek.

Soleil was determined. The candle's flame licked at the freshly torn flesh on her wrists, but she didn't care. She could feel the ropes slowly burning and becoming thinner. It's only a matter of time before she is free. Just a little more.

Ophelia clenches her eyes as her petite body is violated. She pays no attention to the ruffians' dirty talk. She glances to Soleil, seeing the hero's daring attempt to escape. Soleil shoots her a look that can only be interpreted as "distract them!"

Ophelia's heart races. "What're ya' looking at?" the tall man shouts. Before he could turn his head to Soleil, Ophelia forces out a labored, sexual moan. The two men smile. "Ya' like that, don't ya?" They continue to feel her up, much to her dismay. For Soleil, she thinks. For both of us. Soleil's arms are nearly free. She watches in horror as the two men continue their act with Ophelia. They were going to pay. Although the mercenary wouldn't admit it herself, she had often dreamed of doing the same to Ophelia. But not like this. What Soleil wanted to share with Ophelia as lovers, the ruffians had the audacity to take by force? Jealousy didn't correctly describe how Soleil felt. This was just insulting. Infuriating. With one final push, her arms were finally free.