Conquest Of The Fallen: Dark Dominions

[🎶 Boys Wanna Be Her – Peaches.]

"You must have journeyed long from Dementa's camp in Helladeep to get here." Indira wove round a couple of boy vestals in the sanctuary's main floor. They bent their heads in solemn reverence at the passing of the High priestess.

"Mother," they all greeted the Grace.

Indira blessed them with some sign over their foreheads; now Rafel wasn't judging but it quite resembled scribbling the outline of a fish—two crescents, up and down. He'd never understand religion. The Là Veyan and Thelema cults that poured incense and libation to his uncle made marks in the air too.

The irony was Lucifer, the devil they worshipped in those audacious rituals didn't even know what their signs and markings meant. The principal [Seal of Hel] was the Pentagon eye. Nowadays, folk were just making up strange shit that gave even the demons pause.

What the hell was a dick doing up at inverted triangle? And they called this a [Summoning Rune].

The only god who'd answer to such peevish glyph would probably be Smutba, the Lady of whoredom.

The boy vestals bowed also to him but Israfel kept his arm solidly to his side. There would be no air blessings from him. The sanctuary itself was wiper white and domed, puritan gorgeous like the chapel in Vallon-de-Grâce. But instead of a sturdy, gold cross on the dais before the assemblage of pews, it was a crescent moon-shaped plate.

And straight out of an ancient alien civilization.

Rafel glanced at Aya. She shrugged; like, 'Mh-mm. I don't know either.'

The full moon outside splashed luminescence in the room. Through the eyes of a catsnake statue the sanctuary was lit.

Indira led in front, her long robes coloring the way and radiating moonlight; you'd think she was part mermaid. Only Atlanteans shined as much. "That woman you passed by under the arches earlier was a Wilderwitch. She had just being saved from certain death on a Roast-wheel from a cannibal tribe not too far from here. She found sanctuary."

Indira entered another lengthy and vast room, and kept talking as she headed for the one cubicle in it: her divine office.

"The Wilderwitch was like you—exiled from Titans Landing... her visage splashed on posters from here to the Rhobine coasts. She'd known the Badlands was the only way. I found her last night, crumpled by our doors, bereft of breath and soul."

"No offense to you, Grace, but we don't give shit about wilderwitches." Corazón popped very close to Rafel's right-hand.

Indira paused by her office door and turned with an upturned smile.

"You will."

As her hand gripped the door knob to push, Rafel stopped her before she could open it. "Don't bother. I have no need for sanctuary, nor to learn tales of the many gods of the desert. My stay in the Badlands is only for a short while. Titans Landing," his voice lifted a great baritone, "and the entire fucking Continent will soon learn that I cannot be exiled. I am the Apollyon. The first Ascender. Now, take us to Central Core!"

Indira's back flattened on the door and she froze.

"C-Central Core? How the sh... How do you know about Central Core?"

"How d'ya know 'bout us?" Ravenna jumped in.

Indira held steadfast a moment before she sighed, turned again and pushed her office door.

"If you please." She showed them in.

Her office was tidy and very comparable to an Abbot's, if you excuses all the miniature idols on every conceivable surface.

—the many gods of the desert.

Israfel and his harem followed the immaculate Grace to the high left wall. It was a puzzle of white bricks. Indira stepped forward, towering in her 7ft and pushed in one of the stones in the center. The brick shifted in. Stone rumbled like a crumbling Mount. And then the entire wall shifted to the side.

"This way," said the Priestess.

More catsnake statues, powered by [Lunar Pulse] were in this new chamber. The hole in the wall opened into a great cave. It was as vast and reaching as Rafel's dungeon in Eragonn when he was yet the Red Titan, the Kingslayer. He knew because all winter he had spent locked under the castle at Darkwake.

This chamber however had walls that shined into the eyes. An eerie sparkling they dimmed and then shone again. . .like the place itself was alive.

Dead-center of the vast, glowing darkness was a gigantic orb.

It was alien. White gold. And it was suspended in the air by luminous stalks dropping from the ceiling obscured in shadows and extending from the ground.

When the orb glowed, the stalks too glowed.

It was sentient, and the vine-like tentacles drew life from it.

Indira pointed and said, "Central Core."

As the group neared the stupendous orb, it rattled and hissed as if accessing this new visitors for potential threats. The stalks crept and twirled very weirdly like long, shimmering serpents. Indira explained over the saucer-eyed looks on the faces of the friends. "The Orb, [Central Core], has being here since when I took the vestal cut. And for longer than that. Three hundred years and more. I have watched it from my tutelage—yet in all those decades, amidst various battles of our Empire, it has not waned.

"This initially led us to believe it was powered by the sun. But it's not so." She lifted her hands to the great, furling ball of light, "whomever or whatever cultivated [Central Core] is as ancient and alien as the desert itself. Some say it is the unfinished conduit realm of an [Utopian Survivor], the highest rank of the Badlands. Proof is yet to be met.

[Central Core] powers our oasis, River Sana'a. Our fields. Our weather. Our defense. Our lamps. Our warmth. Central Core is Séltand. You are the only other people to see this ever since I took the cloak of supreme Mother." Indira told Israfel and the girls.

She drew closer to where Rafel stood just three feet away from it; the glowing stalks of amber light brightening and dimming to the rugged lines of his face. Indira was taller, and she turned her head to look into his profile when she said: "You aren't dead yet so I believe in your intentions. I believe in you, Rebel Lord. But there is more to [Central Core] than meets the eye.
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"It isn't just some ripple of infinite power. Zaftig and Grone have tried to seduce their way in here."

"It's a good thing you're sworn to celibacy then." Rafel made them laugh.

"Yeah, I told Grone he'd have better luck with his mare."

"Dang! Indira!" Ravenna chuckled.

The priestess merely shrugged a shoulder.

"Speaking of Grone," said Rafel, "I'll also need to see everything you have on the Skullriders in your archives. I'd like to know what I'm up against here."

Indira nodded. "Done." She added. "Shall we leave to my office then?"

Cora cleared her throat loudly and took Rafel's arm, urging him some distance away. "Are we really going to trust some woman whose hymen is hundreds of years old?"

"I heard that!" Indira fired from the left.

"We don't trust anyone, Corazón." Rafel squeezed her fingers in his, after which he instructed her what to do. "Go with Naamah and Little Raven. Listen to what has to say. I'm going to try and see if I can penetrate the [Central Core]—see if it there's something she's not telling. Go."

He let go of her hand and Cora dipped out of the hollow chamber, taking Indira and the others with her.

Alone in the vast darkness with the iridescent sphere, Rafel said darkly, "alright, [Central Core], let's see what you've got."

And he grabbed two of the stalks.

The lights instantly dimmed, from the sprouts to the Orb. The giant ball darkened, and an eerie wispy voice called forth from the sudden blackout.

"Demon! Demon!"

A thick mass of shadows swamped the ceiling and the floors, crawling and twisting. And Rafel was at odds with his nature.

'Am I really that evil of soul to darken a light that has been shining for literally hundreds of years?'

'I mean I get that I'm a demon and all, but. . .'

"Deemooon!" The same high voice screeched.

Rafel released the stalks. The light of the Orb didn't come back on. And he wondered if he had killed [Central Core]. If so, he'd have Indira to contend with.

"Fuck. Shit. Fuck!" He growled.

Purplish black fumes swirled around the orb, enveloping the writhing sphere like a cornered rabbit and choking it in wicked blackness. The Core began to make a wheezing noise and suddenly, a [Vortex Of Madness] rippled out from the orb's surface. It was haloed in ominous purple and black tendrils.

A supple hand, covered in grime, burst forth from the evil occult-looking ripple.

. . .another hand pushed out.

Then a body.

Rafel couldn't see the face.

A frightful curtain of wet jet-black hair covered this person.

He heard a moan as the figure—which looked like a grave silhouette; like a corpse awakening in mud and rotten moss from a graveyard—pulled itself up the rest of the way out of the blackhole. It dropped a height of nothing less than 20ft to the ground, landing shockingly erect, like a cat.

And directly in front of Rafel.

"Deeemon," came the screeching voice again. This time, Rafel was sure it was feminine.

Any reservations he had evaporated when the figure stood.

"Holy Hills!"

It was very certainly a woman.

Her body was covered in something that looked like viscous ink, like she had just swam in a lake in the Abyss of Balthazar. This thick gooey black liquid was dripping down her body. Her very naked body.

She was sinfully hot. Her hips were proper big. Her thighs were rounded. He couldn't see behind to her ass, but her penumbra on the floors showed a wonderful might: buttocks that could clench and clap. Her bosoms were full. Her chest heaved. Her cleavage, even covered in that black stuff, brought saliva into his mouth. Her areolas popped out at him. And those breasts were grabable; juicy pears too succulent to not admire.

She was very generously blessed by whatever Abyssal god had formed her. Or maybe she was one.

This woman had just jumped out of a corrupted [Central Core].

Her hair was midnight. Satin. Ink. Hemlock.

The damp wave of it parted and utter red eyes pierced out.

"Deeeeemon!!!" She ran forward.

Her beautiful feet left trails of the black thing on the chamber's floors. Rafel was busy ogling her jumping breasts... smashing against her chests, slap, slap, like melons.

Squish! Squish! Squish!

Her fingernails caught his left cheek.

It drew blood. And Rafel saw red for a moment.

[To be Continued.]