Conquest Of The Fallen: Dark Dominions

"Of course." Rafel led Cora away from the trickle of young mages filtering out of the classroom. He did not know how Dr. Blood awarded grades, but he felt pretty confident about the test. His crow might live a day or two of sustenance.

It was common knowledge in the realm of the Fae that reanimated creatures had to be close to their masters to draw on their mana source, like blood witches on the essence of a red moon. Else, the creatures would fall back to the dirt.

It was different with resurrected souls.

They could be miles away from the creator who'd pulled them from the abyss, and still live. For in the case of resurrection, no binds of death held. Not just any necromancer could pull stuff like that. It had killed many even who'd tried.

Resurrected souls were beautiful creatures. Just like the girl before Rafel.

Cora waited until the last clic in the hallway were out of earshot. Their talking echoed in the distance as they rounded the corner. She turned again to Rafel with her ocean blues. "We need a quiet place. One where we won't be disturbed."

Rafel nodded. Clearly, this was going to be some talk. No one wanted to hear the words, 'we need to talk.' Especially coming from a woman. But it was Cora, so Rafel was game.

A quiet place, huh?

He thought about the dorms: Salem Hall, or hers, Brightburn. But the walls were too damn thin. He knew this because Percival banged the shit out of it when their next-door neighbour romped it out with his usual flings of wild side. And werewolf females could scream like a motherfucker.

It was the, 'Oh! Oh! Oh!' that raged Percival every single time. Rafel just thought his roommate needed to get laid.

'Perhaps, I can be of help in that area,' his dark self whispered.

Since the dorms were out of it, Rafel thought of his restaurant. 'Nope. Spinazolla's will be too rowdy at this time of the day.' But then his mind wandered to the whitestone cathedral he had passed on his way here from the Grand Tourniquet.

The church of the Martyr.

Nothing was quieter than a temple in the aft of daytime. It was perfect. Rafel immediately took Cora's hand. "Come. I know a place." She removed her hand from his. He met her eyes, but allowed it.

Something was up. All the more reason they needed to have this talk. Cora sent her frost-blue eyes forward.

"Alright, lead the way."

Rafel would have preferred to drag her into him and shadow teleport them to the steps of the church, but Cora obviously needed distance. He was not too much of a prick to suffocate her. So instead, he hailed a horse-drawn dearborn and held the door open for her.

Ten minutes later, right at the strike of noon, he alighted the fine carriage. Cora ignored the hand he offered and stepped out of her own.

Rafel only smiled at this.

Cora didn't meet his smug face. Now that she had gotten her memories back, she knew that this beautiful demon was as far from a gentleman as the Cold Sea from the desert realms of Tyre. And she was definitely not a Lady. Her tight spandex pants attested to that much.

Cora's scuffed boots hit the pavement hard as she hopped off the carriage.

She heard the chink of coin as Rafel paid the rider, so much that the man suggested to hang around until they were done. Rafel agreed, and more coin chinked. The rider's greedy eyes lit in gold.

Cora rolled her eyes, and turned to watch the cute vampire couple walking their way.

The sweethearts moved together, knit at the hip, with the man holding an umbrella over their heads. These days, vampires walked in the sun. It still hurt the shit out of their eyes, but they didn't burst into flames. One marvelous thing the rulership of the Imperial Fae had done for the Bloodborne faction.

The man said something in his darling's ear and she smiled, granting Cora a peek of her fangs. They were locked in their own love bubble and didn't even notice her as they walked right past and down the empty street.

Rafel appeared at Cora's side.

"Aww, so cute those two. I give them two weeks."

Cora started walking. She frowned as she jogged up the stone marble steps of the giant Cathedral.

"You are so cynical," she said.

Rafel met her one step with two of his. She was the one in front, but somehow it was she who struggled to keep up. His amber eyes loomed in front of her face. "How am I cynical? Not that I deny it. But I'm only stating the obvious.

Those two lovebirds are clearly on their honeymoon, or at least the dovey part of a tender relationship. Have you ever heard of married vampires? They live way too long for that shit. Plus, vampires are nearly as frivolous as nymphs.

They love to screw in as many places as they can stick their fangs."

Cora halted in front of the large, juniper-brown double doors. "See, cynical." She maintained.

Both her and Rafel were like grasshoppers against the magnitude of the standing doors. The rise of the cathedral itself, looping in colonnades and great alabaster pillars to Romanesque façades sat like Kong in front of their faces. The Church of the Martyr was grand and gigantic. Rafel looked left and right; there was no one in sight.

"We're good," he said to Cora.

She put her weight behind her as she pushed in.

The doors creaked with a noise that echoed in the bare streets and they quickly stepped in. Cora shut the doors and fell back on it. The innards of the temple was candlelit, many sconces flickering off polished walls. Cora followed Rafel as he moved down the aisle, in the centre of golden pews. Not a speck of dust visible.

"Smells like holiness," Rafel joked.

And Cora actually did smile.

"Where is everyone?"

They had reached the very first pew and Cora asked. "Isn't that a good thing?" Rafel returned. "I suppose so." Cora shrugged. Rafel showed to the pew, and when she sat, he slid in after her. For a minute, they watched in silence the pristine dais. It was overlaid in immaculate tiling.

The long windows beyond the altar were stained glass of a myriad colors. It split the light entering in a miracle of radiance. The altar was not one color.

It was marigold. And it was purple. It was blue, and it was pink. Very beatific.

"Now that is some altar!" Rafel crooked his brow. "If I were a god, I'd just love to dwell in here."

"But you are, aren't you?"

Rafel turned to Cora.

She continued when he stopped smiling. "—at least you are born of gods. Infernal gods."

Rafel turned his body halfway on the pew to her; he slung an arm over the back of the long seat. "Is this why you wanted a quiet place? To hit me with questions?"

Cora blinked once. "Why didn't you answer my messages?"

"Your messages?"

Cora nodded. "I left many on your crystal pad. Didn't you get them?"

"No. I didn't." Rafel shook his head. "I was, uh. . .occupied."

Cora waved her hand. "Oh well, we are here now." She paused a bit, then said, "I remember."

Rafel sat straighter in his seat. "YOU. REMEMBER?"

He was already smiling. The luminance in his eyes made the gold literal. And Cora couldn't help but smile too. "Yes, Your Grace. I remember everything. I remember Emberfall and the Manor, and the hounds, and our moors, and the orchards.

The wyrd fields. The—"

Rafel pulled her in. "Oh Corazón!"

His warm embrace shut her lips, and he stroked her soft, boyish cut. If he doubted the restoration of her memories, her use of the term 'Your Grace' doused every doubt from his mind. They hugged a long time, and when Cora pulled back, Rafel tried to hide his tears by turning his face away.

Cora couldn't help it. "Are you crying?"

Rafel sniffed. "Oh, Israfel." She beamed. Love bloomed in her heart. Not the love like that of those vampire couple, but the love of friendship, intimacy, and worship. The bond of a demigod and his witch. Cora wiped the corners of his eyes with her own sleeves.

She smiled warmly at him. His amber gaze spoke the words his mouth could not say. And Cora did, for the both of them;

"I missed you too, Lord Apollyon." She said.

Rafel nodded. "Now, tell me everything."

Sitting back on the pew with a bright light dazzling out her gorgeous face, Cora told him about the mirror and the realm of light, and the little woman in that luminous world. She told him about Angel and all the saint had told her.

She took teared up a little when she recounted the details of that night, and the glorious high she had felt when the gates of her pysche opened and the memories came flooding in.

She talked about Emberfall. And Rafel completed her words. They took turns sharing the little, beautiful details of the two years they had spent together cooped up in the private Goth estate.

Their adventures in the Capitol.

Their stewards of the Manor.

Sex and nocturnal habits. And eventually, the fire that ended it all. But they didn't dwell too long on that. And so, Cora finished with: ". . .I have to tell you right now, my Lord, I'm a Ghost."

Rafel only chuckled. "So?"

"I didn't expect that. Don't you mind?" Cora asked.

Rafel touched her silver hair. "I am glad you are back with me, Corazón. I don't care what vessel you appear in. Besides, I've never fucked a ghost before."

Cora smacked his arm. Then she paused. The tips of her ears perked up, like a fox.

"Did you hear that?"

"What? The sound of you smooching me in a lonely church?" Rafel smirked.

Cora shot him a look. "No, silly. Listen."

Rafel became attentive, and almost instantly, his grin faded. He heard it too.

PAH! PAH! PAH!

Fleshy sounds. Slapping sounds. Deep groaning.

Rafel's eyes lit in a devious fire this time; mischief. He smiled salaciously at Cora as he rose from the pew. "Oh, someone's getting it good." He started in the direction of the orgasmic sounds. Cora was a step behind. "You think someone's fucking? In the church?" Rafel took her hand and moved with her.

"Shh. We're about to find out."

They tiptoed up the dais and rounded the altar, clearing the abandoned sanctum partitioned off by white veils and came to a sudden standstill when they reached a branching in the long, hallowed corridor.

It was two men.

On closer inspection, a man, and a boy.

A very young boy.

The man was in priestly garments. But it was nothing of modesty. His cassock was hiked up to his waist, and he stood in his white socks. On his head was the mitre of his bishopric, shaking wildly with his own gyration.

"I-Is that the Highfather?"

Rafel heard Cora's whisper, but didn't. . .couldn't answer. This ecclesiastical man was pumping up in vibrating hips, his clammy ass on display. What was in front on the other hand was nothing pasty. With a hard and full cock, he drammed into the bent form of an altar boy.

Rafel saw the girthy member thrust in and out of the red asshole, and almost retched.

The man in the Cardinal's robes was yowling in abandon. He drilled that boy's ass like a teen locked in a room with the harlot about to take his virginity. The view was so sickening, yet amusing, Rafel broke into laughter.

"Hahaha!"

The shivering men turned at this. And Rafel was still wildly cackling when the Priest's cap fell off his head and his face twisted in shame. Cora clutched beside Rafel to his arm. "Holy fucking shit! It is the Highfather!"