Conquest Of The Fallen: Dark Dominions

• THE 9TH HOUR [That Same Day], Brightburn Hall.

Corazón opened her eyes from a nice sleep to the saffron light of a warm bedchamber lamp. Rays twinkled in her hair, turning it dreamy gold. She turned her head to the right, staring out the parted curtains of her dorm room. It was furthest on the storey hallway, and her windows poured right out to a view of the school moors.

It was dark out. Night had fallen.

Rising from the bed, the mattress dipped at the edge as Cora paused to glance back and admire the girl on the left side of the wide bed: Skyla, her girlfriend.

Cora put out her hand to pull the blond strands off Skyla's temple; she was snoring softly. Cora smiled and watched her for a bit. Skyla had only just returned from the clinic, following that terrible misunderstanding between her and Israfel. But was it a misunderstanding though?

Skyla had been right in thinking she was getting cucked by the Netori King—who in this case was Israfel; fucking Corazón when she wasn't around. But Skyla was too much starry-eyed on Cora to break up with her. Thus, her werewolf pride had won over when she'd attacked Rafel. The whole academy knew how that ended—bad.

Skyla was NTR'd by Israfel.

Cora blinked on Skyla's profile. "Oh my love, I'm sorry, but he just does things to me you can't."

She was certain Skyla was asleep and didn't hear.

Cora flicked her hand to the bedlamp, sending a spurt of mana from her fingertips and the lights went off. She wanted Skyla to get a good sleep. Using only the light of the moon pouring in from the open windows, Cora stood and padded over barefoot to the mirror. She wasn't really thinking of anything as she walked to the long, oval vanity.

It was her real height, and framed in gold finishing.

As she moved for the expensive looking-glass, she thought on her schedule for the next day. She had DAC class first thing in the morning. The [Dark Arts Cultivation] lecture was as beloved to those in the Raven Arc as a pixie to gold dust. It was necessary to pass the course to level into Second Year.

But Cora wasn't in the bare minimum league. She wanted to ace it.

Partly because Israfel was the current genius of the class, and she wanted to dominate him in something to even what he did to her when they were alone and untethered to their passions. And partly because only those with distinctions in the DAC course could apply to be inducted into the [Sentinel Corps] at sophomore year.

[Sentinel Corps] pretty much guaranteed one becoming and graduating as a Fourth Year cadet of the Darker military; a step away from being a Grey Stag.

Though upon the wake of Titans Landing, the Usurper King had disbanded the Grey Stags, but Cora still had hope. Rumor was they still had formations in secret.

Cora reached the mirror, turned, and abruptly stopped.

"What the shit?"

All of her thoughts dropped. She glanced to the bed to make sure she hadn't woken Skyla, then back again at the mirror.

"Where's my fucking reflection?"

She couldn't see herself in the plane glass. It was like no one stood in front of it. In disbelief, Cora turned this way and that. She whispered her doubts, careful not to wake the sleeping blonde on the bed. "I am no effing vampire. Why can't I see my self?

The only other species who don't show in mirrored surfaces are ghosts. But I am not dead. Am I?" Cora, in that moment, thought back to what Israfel had said when they'd first met at the academy:

'You died, Corazón. In my arms.'

"Holy shit." She echoed.

Tentatively, she reached out to touch the mirror's surface. Her hand went right through. It was cool to the touch, like a still pool of water. She pulled out her fingers, stared down and found them intact. She turned to be sure Skyla was still sleeping. And then Cora put out her hand back into the pale glass.

She willed her entire body forward. And she went through, stepping right into the mirror, like it was a fucking portal into another dimension.

Cora soon found out it was.

[🎶 Mirror – Lil Wayne ft. Bruno Mars.]

The other side was bright with white light. Just like the kind she had heard souls saw when they passed into the afterlife. The white divine light of the Great Beyond.

Cora turned to find the long mirror still a few feet behind her: a doorway back, like a spool of a dark matter. "Why do I suddenly feel like I've stepped into a blackhole," she wondered. Considering the fact that she had no reflection, she was tempted to laugh at the fact that it was truly the first time she had tried looking to see herself in the mirror.

"What kind of a girl am I? A girl who doesn't even stop for a quick peek in the mirror on the way out in the morning?"

She would've noticed this if she did. But she wasn't that kind of girly gal. She was the kind that wore boy tights under her ripped jeans and boots that threatened the earth. She was the kind of girl who had a fade for a haircut, and marched into the boys urinal whenever the female bathroom was full. And apparently, she was also the kind of girl who forgot to check herself in mirrors.

She wore no makeup, neither.

"Shite." Cora swore.

It took some time, but her eyes finally adapted to her new immaculate surroundings. The ambience was ecclesiastical; a performance like a singing holy choir played in the air. The chords were operatic and soothing to her mind. In the white light, Cora made out a vastness that was endless. It was like she stood in a colossal hall without walls, nor ceiling.

Just pristine floors that stretched on and on, without end.

"This place is magnificent." She admitted.

It was nothing of the grim void she thought her soul would certainly find in death—as the monks loved to preach her for being a 'lesbian'.

A deviation from the divine nature.

Cora remembered laughing in their puritan faces.

But now; "Where am I?" She squinted in the vast whiteness, and spotted figures in the snowy colors. People. They were all clothed in the same splendid auras. But their clothes were not really clothes, but more like skin. White, glorious skin. They were immaculate, incarnate of true light.

They blended easily into the glory of this wondrous realm. No wonder she hadn't spotted them sooner.

Cora could also see they were talking to each other. Their voices were too low and rich, like the music playing, for her to make sense of what they were saying.

These people numbered hundreds, each robed in glory, and in their own conversation circles. And if she stared out into the infinite white, they were thousands.

She was the only one in pyjamas.

Cora felt small in this place. Very much like a dork.

"Okay, what the fuck is going on?"

"Welcome," came a songy, clarion voice. "We've been expecting you."

Cora, not expecting such a quick reply, was startled. She turned to find a small woman staring up at her with unblinking eyes. She had no pupils whatsoever. Her eyes were all whites. No other color. No darkness.

Like the moon. It made her petite form seem more imposing than Cora's 6ft.

"Y-You have been expecting me?" Cora stammered.

The small woman smiled. "Yes. You are one of us." This woman was naked, but her skin was like brilliant frost, but nothing of the coldness in there. Just layers and layers of light. So were the other people around. It was impossible to notice her nudity when she continued, "You, Corazón, were plucked from this celestial coil back into the mortal plane before you could join us."

Cora's lips moved fast. "I died?"

"Yes."

"But how?"

"You were murdered."

Cora felt tears enter her eyes. But somehow, she felt this was no place for crying, so she steeled herself. "Why don't I remember any of this?"

"Your memories were taken."

"All of them?"

"All the ones that mattered."

Cora noticed the little shining woman's patience in replying her. And her pale gaze that radiated pure wisdom of a millennia—and then some. The woman noticed her discomfort and moved to ease her. She said, "Do not be afraid, Corazón. You're in a place of light.

This is the realm above, the habitation of the pure and contrite. You have been able to reach us and slip in because you have a connection to this place; you were meant to be here. But like I said, you were taken. A dark entity plucked you away. The evil Crone of formidable magic. And this godless fiend had this wiped thy memory, taking from you what you would remember.

It is not your fault. You wouldn't even remember to remember."

"The spell is that strong?" Cora said.

The woman nodded, but her luminous face lit brightly. She grinned. "—but you are stronger, Corazón. You have many friends here. And on the mortal realm, you have someone whose love for you transcends the ritual of any dark magus. True love breaks all spells.

You do know who this someone is. He is close to thy heart."

"Israfel," Cora sighed, offering Skyla a silent apology in her heart.

"Yes," accorded the little, angelic woman. "Take my hand, and we shall restore all that was taken."

Cora looked down at the woman's outstretched arms. They were bright and beautiful, with fingers like rods of pure light. And when she took them, they were just as warm. The moment their fingers touched, Cora's head fell back, and a rapid shock went through her.

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She was zapped; as if she clutched to a live wire and not another person.

Her head felt weighted, as if she was underwater. She saw images behind her shut eyes. Open, but not really seeing anything. Now also white and luminous as the woman's. She heard whisperings in her subconscious, like a Wiccan clairvoyant was speaking sorcery inside her. Powerful surges of energy rippled through her.

She felt as though she was under the rapids of a waterfall: the plunge overwhelming her to the point of collapse. And these images she saw. . .were memories.

They burst like bubbles in her head.

And just like that, she remembered it all.