Conquest Of The Fallen: Dark Dominions

[🎶 Fuck The Pain Away – Rendition by The Moordale Swing Band (Original from Peaches).]

Midnight was a time when these adventurous and certainly strange clic of friends should be sleeping, but as the mammoth Grandfather clock manning the pinnacle of the Citadel tower chimed the crest of darkest night, Israfel and his band could be seen sneaking their way out of the dorm's cafeteria and through the wan halls.

But the night wasn't dark at all. It was clear and still, like the loch Næss south of campus. The dewy skies had a crescent moon and several dotting stars; the path shimmered for the friends to make good on their nocturnal escape.

They could fetch their various Arcs demerits for being out at such late hour, especially when not too far away in the infirmary, the Healers battled to save the lives of those dragon-burned in the Tournament.

Even the macho jocks of Sigma House—who usually partied with any girls who'd indulge to the dead of the night—had capped off their hormonal fests and retired to one or such rooms to snore out in slumber or perhaps, bang into the few hours of dawn.

"Gods, it's so silent. We could get caught."

"Shh!" Aya put a hand to Percival's lips as the friends weaved forward across a stoic black Knight's statue, maneuvering under his stone face as Rafel beckoned them with the cuff of his hand.

Ravenna chuckled, gripping Cora's trouser hoops from behind. "That is what makes it so exciting."

"The fact that we could get caught, earn ourselves detention, and a healthy slab of lecturing from the headmistress?" Rosa said, the last in the tiptoeing file. She clutched to her rosary, fingering the onyx beads when a wraith's hollow moan streamed in the halls. She did this absentmindedly, just like Ravenna bit on her bottom lip when she was nervous—or turned on.

Or like Corazón played with the moonshine curls of her immaculate hair.

Rafel knew all the tells of the girls, and removed his eyes from ogling Rosa to focus on leading them on.

"Exactly." Ravenna whispered back to Rosa. "It's the fright that's half the pleasure. The adrenaline. Don't overthink it, scaredy pants!"

Rosa pursed her lips. "I'm not scared. I'll have you know I have been on the scene of the grimiest crimes on the continent. A little slithering doesn't spook me."

"You don't look it." Ravenna chortled and Rosa cut neighborly eyes at her.

Rafel suddenly went rigid in front of them and abruptly commanded. "Stay still. I smell new scents." He immediately let an outburst of [Dark Nimbus] spread out from himself, enveloping he and his friends in a noir bubble. They became invisible, their likeness transformed into ordinary darkness. Just then two academy guards in deep blue [Hallowed] patrol gear rounded the bend in the marble hallway.

"Did you hear something?" The first Marshal said to his partner.

"No," the second replied, "but that shadow over there does look kinda funny." He lifted his mage torch and flashed a straight beam at the dark envelope of Rafel and his friends. The shadows didn't dissipate under the light. He commented, "Hmm, weird."

"Come on." The first Marshal patted his back. "This entire school is weird." He sent a look to his partner. "We are weird. Let's go. There's nothing to see here."

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"Yeah," the second responded, "must be a lost ghost or something."

The sentinel guards walked on, passing by Cora's body so close she had to flatten herself to the whitestone walls for her skin not too touch theirs. The [Dhampir] Marshalls kept walking on, their blue uniforms brightened under the lights that winked out one by one at their passage, until they were gone.

"Whew!" Percival released a heavy breath. "That was close." Then he made a comical face. "I nearly gassed. And I know that would've made some here happy."

Brunhilda sent him a look. "Not funny."

Cora smacked his shoulder. "Stop being gross. Ugh!"

Rafel dropped his cloaking abilty. "Come on," he said, "we don't have long before they're back." He led his friends away, taking the other fork in the halls, but they kept to the floor levels of the dorm designated for First Years of the institute. Rafel didn't stop again until they were at his gray door. He swiped the key card under the bluish light.

Swish! The door screened open.

"In you go, you lot." He coaxed shy smiles from the girls with his gentlemanliness. And ever so gently, he shut the door again. All of them trodded for the lounge of the twin chambers. Rafel fell back on a chiffon banquette—grabbing Rosamunde as he did, while Aya conjured a purple ball of flame to the fireplace. The fire turned scarlet as it licked the little logs.

The smell of pinewood and juniper fragranced the suite. "I'll get the wine. Don't bother. I know my way around." Corazón moved for a low partition bar. Percival shot Rafel a look of male pride, saying of her admittance, "oh I bet you do!"

Ravenna hadn't yet come off her high at evading the school guards and still smiled wondrously to herself when Cora returned with a full bottle of Royal Red and the number of glasses. She poured and offered. "Did ya see the look on the guard's faces? Complete oblivion. Ha!" Rafel collected his and grinned at Ravenna's accented voice. She did pronounce 'guards' as 'gerds'.

Ravenna mused on how Israfel always brought adventure and charm; right from the first day she had showed up on his Manor's doorstep.

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"To strange things!" Rafel toasted.

"Hear, Hear." His friends all moved in, clinking glasses.

Percival lowered his flute after one sip. He licked his lips and voiced his concerns about the red dragon Rafel had ridden in the tournament the day before. "I must ask, Rafel—this time not as a friend but as a loyal vassal to His Eminence..." Rafel nodded, giving him the go-ahead. "I spotted you and that crimson creature coming down from the Dorian peaks at dusk yesterday. Is everything alright?

Should we be worried? Do the Children of the Crow need to be? Because we would happily take care of whatever business the damned dragon wants."

Percival bowed his head and finished, "respectfully, Your Eminence."

"Her name is Zara. Zarathustra," said Rafel, "and she helped me empty my balls in a cave on the mountaintop."

Ravenna coughed, choking on her drink. "You fucked a dragon?"

Rosa turned up her head beside Rafel on the cot, half-under him to nestle his clean jaw. "I mean I know you're a demon, but is that even possible."

"She had a woman's cunt." Rafel looked at his friends faces and admonished his vulagrity. "What I meant to say is that she was a woman. She. . .she was changed. She still had the wings and horns and tail, yes.

But she was woman in all the places that mattered to my cock. She was red; you should've seen her, Naamah. I know how much you love changeling species. As much as I do.

Zara provided a most hot and tight channel to sink into. But when it was over she asked me to be her Sire. I. . ." Rafel shortened out.

"What did you say?" Percival leaned in on the wide, white sofa where he rested with the other girls save Cora who was on the fluffy Florentine rug at Rafel's feet and Rosa—who was now in his lap.

"I said nothing. We fetched our clothes and parted ways."

"What would you have liked to say?"

"I don't know, what do you guys think?"

Only Cora sat forward. "I think you're a first year at the most elite college of wizardry in the continent and have no time to make more than bed fellows of strange women. Zara should be grateful for having provided her draconian pussy for use by the Apollyon of Hel, and should shut her mouth until such a time as you feel to grace it with your cock again. She shouldn't ask for shit."

"Damn, Cora!" Percival went back.

Rafel smiled. "Thank you." Cora always kept it real; she gave no fuck about whom felt hurt.

"Now," she wiggled the empty wine bottle in the air, "shall we spin this motherfucker?"

"Hell yeah." Ravenna dropped her empty glass.

Cora plopped the glass bottle and spiffed the neck. It spun round and round, and round, and landed on Percival—the cap end. "Fuck. Why am I first?" He muttered. Then jolted. "Alright.

Hit me." Cora met his golden head coldly.

"Truth or Dare?"

"Truth."

Rosa pulled off Rafel's lap and asked of him, "tell us your deepest, darkest secret."

Percival sighed. "You got me there." And he told it: "I once wanked on my mom's panties."

"Holy shit!" Ravenna's jewelled eyes bulged.

"Yeah," Percival continued nonchalantly. "Then I tried to wash it. I scrubbed so hard the material wore out."

"Fuck." It was Cora. "Did your mum find out?"

He shrugged. "She probably did. She was a werewolf, and she could smell a rabbit from three miles away. She probably smelled my jizz too on the underwear because I never saw it again. Who's next?" Percival added.

This time it was he who spun the bottle. It sped around, blurring for a few seconds and came to a final definite stop in front of Brunhilda. She covered her face in her hands and Percival's cold, hard, no-nonsense voice hit.

"Truth or Dare."

It took a while, but she raised and managed to maintain a straight face. "Dare."

"Is that your final pick, matadora?"

"Yes. Are you going to dare me to do something?"

Percival sat back with a lazy smile. "I dare you to finger Rosamunde's ass."

"WHAT?!"

"Excuse me!" Rosa herself sat up beside Rafel. "He can't ask that. Can he?"

Cora was already nodding, and Ravenna chewed on her bottom lips. Aya just laid back on the mammoth sofa and watched amused and quiet. Percival was not backing down. "That's your Dare, Bruna. Don't keep us waiting."

The goth girl turned to Rafel with a pleading eye.

"Israfel?"

"I'm sorry, witchy one," he said. "You have to do it."

Percival jammed up his middle digit. "Finger that ass, bebe!"

Rafel saw Brunhilda's hesitation and eased her. His smooth baritone flowed to her as he coaxed the uncertainty away. "Percival is only trying to make the game interesting. No one wants to be bored, so why play like we're normal, mundane souls. Pull down her knickers and stick your finger up there." He turned Rosa over and smacked her generous behind. "I bet she's already warm and ready for you.

All this profane talk arouses even me.

And it'd better be a damned good show," he added, "or it's your ass on the line."

Brunhilda quaked as the boys began to laugh. In truth, it was what she wanted. They were giving to her exactly what she wanted. And if she played her cards right, she might get to do even more than finger a girl as beautiful as Rosa. She quaked because she was so fucking turned on at the mere idea of having her hand up that private tight, hot place—while the inner circle watched.

Brunhilda moved to the end of the banquette and knelt at the edge of it, on the floor. From the looks of it, Rosa wanted this too—extremely; she shook her rump excitedly.

Bruna smacked her plump butt.

"Bend over more, bitch."