Conquest Of The Fallen: Dark Dominions

ALL THE STUDENTS WERE OPEN-MOUTHED.

Rafel himself was bewildered, but his face rested in a calm—which made the rest of Magdalena's Assembly Hall worry even more. Inwardly, Dr. Shetty was glad; she knew young Master Israfel was special from the moment he had first stepped foot on the isle way back. Nicara showed no signs of her being puzzled. She schooled her features into a poker face.

The hall watched the pretty, curvy redhead of a Headmistress step forward to take control of the situation. Nicara called to the summoning system of the Manifest.

"Arc Crystal, show the bonding strength of Master Israfel BlüdThïrste!"

Many students drew near to peer closer from their seats as the wide stage screen filled with intense light and a hologram. The left column which sat the First Years now only contained an tinkling of those who were yet to take the Manifest.

[DING!]

The Arc Crystal burned fiercely on its cusp, lighting the high chair and Rafel in pure radiance. It damn near showed the blue veins under his skin. The lit screen pushed out more notifications. Dr. Nicara Shetty stared from the spotlight of the podium.

[MANA AFFINITY for host: ISRAFEL BLÜDTHÏRSTE now showing!]

[RAVEN ARC of shadow and arcane Affinity: 99]

[PHOENIX ARC of blood and fire Affinity: 99] Stay updated with m-v le-mpyr

[PEGASUS ARC of water and spirit Affinity: 91]

[GRIFFIN ARC of Sunfire and wind Affinity: 96]

"HOLY SHIT!" someone muttered in the quiet that had fallen over the assembly hall. Everyone looked to their neighbors to converse, but in whispers, their gazes flicking repeatedly to the hologram on the stage, as if the notifications would disappear. It didn't.

Everyone was talking.

"Surely, the arc crystal must have the numbers wrong," a Sophomore of Griffin Gold faction said to another. A Pegasus Blue Third Year on another row was twisting at her curly hair. "No one can make a 99 percent mana affinity in their Manifest.

That kind of greater range is for the dominion of the rank Acolyte and further up the wizardry ladder." A First Year, just newly manifested; of the Raven Black arc: a girl with lip rings and purple streaks in her hair fade was staring up at Rafel like he was an item in a curiosity shop.

She played with her fingers, soliloquizing, "The strongest bond strength the Academy has had in centuries was 73, of the Griffin Gold, and that pupil has a less than 20 count for the other arcs. To have greater than ninety percent in all arcs and twice the uppity merger in Raven and Phoenix is a spike of the [Supreme].

It is magically impossible!"

Clearly, in her radiant obsidian eyes, the purple-haired Raven had found a new crush.

The noise in the Assembly Hall was growing, and Nicara knew the murmurs would flow on forever if she let it. Carefully, she placed her palms flat on the diamond surface of the podium. The glass was cool. Pulling on wind magic, she dropped the temperature of the hall several degrees—with her mind.

The plummet in ambient warmth took less than ten seconds.

And when the students began to shiver and suddenly breathe out puffs of mist, they quietened to investigate. Some Third Years of Griffin arc spun radiant balls of fire that rose up to the domed ceiling. In the ensuing silence, Dr. Shetty spoke; she didn't need to raise her voice at all—the fierce power of magic.

"Now that I have your attention, students, I will now address this matter. While the bonding of a student with two arcs is. . .a stretch beyond what we know of, I personally I'm curious to explore what this means for the arcane society. The [C. A.

W] is always ready to accept evolutions in the magical purpose we serve.

I'm sure you have all heard of the Crusade of Rumbrun, and the heroic feats in it which the young man before you was instrumental in.

Israfel Blüdthïrste is no stranger to the use of the dark arts. I will reconvene with the School Board on this, but right now, Master BlüdThïrste will keep his place in both factions. He is free to either wear the maroon or midnight colors of his choosing. The Arc Crystal does not lie. As Student President, Erika Burgess of Griffin Gold will ensure he eases into both arcs until a decision is reached.

Now, let us finish up with the Manifest. It near lunchtime!"

Dr. Nicara looked down at her expensive Florentine watch, and laughs broke out among the factions.

"Thank you, Israfel. You may go on."

Nicara motioned for him to leave, and he rose up from the high chair. Since Rafel had always loved the color of blood, he strutted for the area in the right column dominated by red jackets.

The crimson colors of [Red Phoenix Arc] merged into him as he settled himself into a seat in their gathering. Aya was in blue. Rosa and Ravenna in black. No one in Rafel's friend circle was in sight. But a willowy Fourth Year, a girl with dark dreadlocks and caramel skin, leaned in to whisper,

"Hi! We are so delighted you chose us. It is an honor to have one who fought in the battle of Skyfall in our Arc. I have just the perfect blazer for you—it will go splendidly with you hair."

Rafel only nodded. The girl's glitter made him want to shut his eyes.

The Headmistress had called a few more names in the minutes past, and now only a single seat was left taken in the column of First Years. Rafel initially spared no thought to the lone soul over there. From the curve of her back and gentle sweep of her neck, she was a girl.

And she was last on the Manifest rollcall.

Paramount of all, he noticed her glossy bright silver hair—but many people had white hair.

He was busying himself admiring the hips on his Headmistress and her latent smile when those fine lips of hers pursed in a final call.

"—and the last, but certainly not least on our Manifest, we have a True Blood. Coming out from Brightburn Hall, CORAZÓN MORTIMER!"

Rafel was smiling and fantasizing when he heard the name; the grin died on his face. It was like someone had abruptly cut the dreamy music in his head. . .

No! It can't be!

Cora is dead!

His mind was firing a million miles a minute, thoughts banging so hard it hurt his psyche; he was turning over the facts, running through doubts again on how. . .why she might be alive.

Still, he raised his eyes again to look at the tall female who had taken the Manifest high chair. Her blue eyes, so fucking blue, cut clear as ice into the crowd. Her hair, so blond it shimmered like snow.

It was her.

Any doubts he had at her being real vanished when he saw her tight-fit commando pants. She was still the Tomboy he remembered.

Forgetting himself, he lurched to his feet.

"CORAZÓN!"

The hall went quiet. Everyone looked between he and the platinum blonde about to Manifest. But his former chamberlain's eyes were distant. There was nothing in those ocean blues. No fucking recognition! He was like a stranger in her eyes.

Rafel looked across rows of filled seats to Aya Naamah, for clarity. His [Bond] succubus shook her head.

Rafel plopped down on his seat.

WHAT THE FUCK?!

Yes, it was his Corazón. . .but again, it was not her.

WHAT THE HELL HAD HAPPENED THAT NIGHT IN EMBERFALL?