Conquest Of The Fallen: Dark Dominions

THE CURIOUS MAP LED HIM like the scent of smoke and candles, burning, across and over the magnific labyrinth of the Dark Arts building. In the flowing lights from the long white lamps, lining above the ecclesiastical corridors, Rafel made his way, and didn't stop until he hit a door.

A big, gray door.

From the engraved cursives on the silverly plaque, he could tell the room behind the door was a library. However, he had not heard of this one among the listings in the institute's citadels or on the Student President tour Erika Burgess had given. It appeared that this place was shunned and kept a secret for some reason, but why?

The hallway was distant on the building's second floor, and Rafel stood alone in it. In the quiet, he took the gilded doorknob in his hand, but it would not budge.

Rafel didn't have time for games. He wasn't going to miss lunch and the beautiful company of Rosa, Naamah, and Ravenna for a dead end. So this shit had better be worth it. Anyone behind the door who had tried to pull a catfish on him with this stunt will wish the fared better than Olivar.

"Ignitius flavus perceptum!" Rafel commanded in a warlock's voice.

He didn't need to pull mana from his demon core for the little unlocking spell. The presence of magic in the Centre for Dark Arts was strong. He pulled from that. The building always maintained optimal level of arcane charge for students use, and to also serve as fuel for the magical lighting of hallways and classes.

At his casting—for that was what bare magic spell as this was called, a red glow from his clutching palm wrapped around the knob and sank into it.

The metal became hot, then scorching. It turned the red of a forge. Rafel smelled the melting of iron. His spell had liquefied the latch system of the door. He heard a click and then silence. The knob cooled again.

And this time, when Rafel pushed in, the gray door gave. He slipped, shutting it back in quiet motion. This burglary could certainly cost him another lost twelve points in detention.

But back to the present.

Rafel flipped on the lights. "My, my, what hath in darkness hidden, the light doth reveal," he quoted his uncle, Lucifer.

The secret library dusty, the chamber a bit solemn to be holding the vast aisles he was seeing. Shelves and shelves of books. It smelled like papyrus and aging ink. Under a yellow reading lamp by the first book, Rafel peered at the mystery map again. The red X showed the place was just around the corner. Rafel weaved past an aisle with a climbing ladder; the dust on both was three inches thick.

"This place has been closed for years," he hushed to himself, coming to a stop before a wall painting.

The art was a depiction of the hundred-armed witch and goddess of rituals, Hecate. Rafel stared into her unmoving, green pupils. The X on his map was right behind the painting. But there was no passage. Just the wallpaper. "Perfect," Rafel growled, "two dead ends in one discovery."

He was just about to curl the map in a ball, toss it in a waste basket, and head out to see if he could make lunch when he caught sight of a poking bayonet under the mantel under Hecate's painting; the butt of the firearm had scribbling of the same mysterious words on the map on its husk.

Salvete Corvum! He read again. Read exclusive chapters at m|v-l'-NovelFire

"Yes, I'm at the right place."

Squinting, Rafel left the weapon in place, but put his hand to the gun barrel and clicked the trigger. A rolling of gears filled the dusty library with a grinding sound. The painting shifted out of the wall, as if pushed by hands from within. A hole appeared in the wallpaper. A door-sized hole. An entrance going down below.

Rafel walked in, pulling off a sconce. He held the torch to guide as he traced his way down stone steps.

The smell here was fresher, freer; there was no dust. Someone had been doing some cleaning.

How could it be that the outside was dirty by the insides were unstained?

"Only one way to find out!" He assured himself.

He stepped down the final stone and came to a vast round chamber of marble and ivory. Its walls were soft brown and grey. Rafel heard scuffling feet and eight people stepped out of the shadows. They wore black capes with cowls. He couldn't see their faces. This secret chamber had only two things decorating its wide space: candles and sofas.

The walls did everything else.

Carved from mountain stone, Rafel reckoned that this loft must have being built in the first skeletons of the academy. It had skulls looking out the walls and the crust of the room looked the line grey of bones. Rafel fearlessly walked for the first person in the line.

"Look, whatever this is—" Rafel tossed the map with the eerie Avalonic phrase to the heavy cloak, "I want no part in it. Save your enigmas and lurking for someone with real interest."

Rafel turned and started walking.

"You haven't even heard our offer yet. Don't you want to see who we are? Our faces?"

The replying voice was a girl's. It was sickeningly, sugary familiar.

"Like I said, I'm fine. Keep your cowls for all I care."

The female voice came back. "You remember The Enlightened? YOUR EMINENCE?"

Rafel abruptly stopped in his tracks. He turned back by the steps. He had only met two members of the elusive, wealthy group of nyctophiles. The Count of Penderghast, Sir Lucius, and Camerlengo. Before the Count's murder, Rafel remembered the conversation the both of them had about the quiet group of occult intellectuals.

Rafel walked back to loom over the girl. "How the fuck do you know about The Enlightened?"

"They're our parents," she dropped, and Rafel felt his stomach take a plunge. The girl, formerly in silhouette with her cowl and obsidian ensemble, lifted a milky hand and pulled off the cowl.

Rafel's mouth dropped to the stone floors.

"Brunhilda? WHAT THE FUCK!"

"Please allow me to explain all, Your Eminence." The girl motioned with her hands.

Rafel first looked around the stately stone chamber. More cowls were dropping. More faces he recognized. He saw Ravenna and Rosamunde among this weird, cultish group with the creepy vibes and predeliction for codes and cyphers. He spotted Percival and Mikhail. And when he also spotted Erika Burgess, the Student President, he didn't want to believe his eyes.

Percival? I thought that dude was headed for lunch at the cafeteria!

The remaining two people of the eight Rafel had seen in passing at Salem Hall. Brunhilda was still looking at him funny. Rafel sighed and gestured to her. "Go on, explain!"

"After my father's murder," Brunhilda started, "I found his records of the secret sect he belonged to; THE ENLIGHTENED. It was about the same time my mother was taken captive with the Queen, Giselle at the taking of the Capitol—I've not seen of her since it was named Titans Landing. So I reached out to the others; Percival first.

Ravenna joined too when she heard the truths about the plots of her father. At first, it was only a meeting place to share our fears, grief, and confide our doubts for the future of the Empire.

But then, we thought, why not do something about it. The Enlightened is no more—I know that much.

The Usurper put them all under the Guillotine at a public execution. I think my father was the opening kill. Anyway, we all decided this would be our avenging circle, our chance to bring reckoning to our enemies; our revolution against the Usurper and his tyranny. We are eight now; one for each realm represented. You, Your Eminence Israfel will make us complete for the nine realms.

It is our hope that you will lead us against the Titans and their dark masters, to vanquish their reign and villainy. So. . ."

Brunhilda went down on her knees, shocking Rafel the more. All the other followed, like [Druid Acolytes] of a resurrected god.

". . .will you join us, the Children of the Crow to bring an end to darkness across the nine realms?"

Rafel looked down at all their gesticulated forms.

They were beautiful, angels, graces. His amber iris speared on Ravenna. "How long have you known about this?"

The seductive girl calmly returned, "since the yacht, my lord."

Rafel moved his gaze across Mikhail to Percival.

"How about you, Percy?"

The golden-haired heir replied coldly. His voice lacked all sympathy for the Titans. "I have being waiting on this my whole life. Those bastards took my parents. THEY MUST PAY. And so I bend the knee to you, APOLLYON.

I will be your loyal soldier. I take this path unto death. Help me; help us, banish the darkness. And save the world.

SALVETE CORVUM!"

"ALL HAIL THE CROW!" The others replied in goth unison, their voices a heathen echo.

Rafel bent his head. "I will need to think this over."

"As you wish, Your Eminence," Erika Burgess gave a little smile. Who would've thought?

"Now get up, my friends!" Rafel quickly eased them up to their feet. "This is risky business. The Fallen are no joke. And. . .I'm one of them."

"No you're not!" Ravenna surged to his defense. "I think you've proved that more than anyone else—" her jewelled eyes dropped to the spot of his wound.

Rafel changed the subject. "Let's get lunch!"

As they ascended from the deep shadows of earth below, the Children of the Crow bonded in words and laughter, splitting in the corridors to their various Halls but untied in hearts with a common purpose now. It left Rafel thinking all the way to the canteen. He, Mikhail, Percival, Rosamunde, Ravenna, and Brunhilda joined Aya at the table she had reserved—the one by the window.

Erika Burgess took her usual. In her soft chewing, the gorgeous blonde spared a moment to meet his eyes.

The Student President? Rafel mused. Holy fucking shit!