Conquest Of The Fallen: Dark Dominions-Chapter 329: Enemies of the Republic

[• This Chapter includes suicide and violent content. It is fast-paced and dwells on scenes involving war and death. Please be warned!]

• TITANS LANDING

WOODEN WHEELS CRASHED ON the cobblestones before a great black, spired tower as a folded scroll left the hands of a wiry newsboy and into the silver tray of the Head Butler of House de Vries. It was speedily taken up several storeys of the palatial home into the North wing—the residence of the [Empyrean]. Above, two shuttle wagons circled the obsidian steeple.

The Empress had just stepped out of the tiled baths when the tray was brought in by the hands of a corseted maid.

"Ravenna, have you seen the papers this morning?" Aya Naamah bounced in her canopy bed. "It says a storm’s coming."

Forest green eyes leveled on the four-poster as the young Empress drew closer to the bed. She waived her helping maid who stumbled quickly out. Ravenna sat the edge of the sprawling bed, telling, "let me see." She plucked gently the scroll out of Aya’s hands. The curtains were drawn and Ravenna could see clearly the moorish planes of Aya’s face – she was wearing a honey brown skin today. A Redbone’s color.

"Aye. It seems so." Ravenna skimmed the piece. "—in twenty minutes?"

She lifted a brave face, forgetting the rest of the news. "You think Cora and Rafel would make it here before the winds hit?"

Aya watched Ravenna’s emerald eyes enlarge with worry. The young queen turned her gaze to the fat black clouds churning in the distance. She could already sniff the wetness in the air, the electricity on the skin. She mewled at the open windows. "Hey!" Aya drew Ravenna’s eyes back to her. She consoled her with the words. "Dominus is a nerd. Knowing him he’s already read the news by now. If not the clouds. He’ll be here." She grinned without worry.

Ravenna took comfort in the succubus. Ever since returning from Vallon-de-Grâce that early morn half a moon ago, Rafel and Corazón had gone to Fort Sandringham – which was closer to the [C.S.A] and ongoing investigations on Racquel Serpent – they were there now two weeks and were due to arrive this day. Ravenna was in a thrall.

Meanwhile, Peitho was stuck in a moody room of the Castle, doing public image management, with stern orders not to speak to anyone besides the Harem. Ravenna had only a few days ago learned that Peitho didn’t need to eat. She would if her Host commanded it. But she did not need food to stay alive. How weird?

"Guess she doesn’t shit too?" Aya had joked, when Ravenna gossiped her.

Albeit, in this moment they both prayed for the safe arrival of the Apollyon.

Breakfast came in with the press of a bell. As Aya and Ravenna sipped from their mugs green tea, the far bells of Apophis Tower began tolling—the gales had just broken through the shores of the Cold Sea. Rafel and Cora had ten minutes.

[🎵Away With The Wind She Goes – Jeymes Samuel.]

In a fast-riding chariot about three miles outside the city gates were the two persons who kept the Empress’s heart torn. "These Mustangs have hooves of steel. But can this thing go any faster?" Cora looked beyond as she spake to Israfel. He chuckled. "If it goes any faster, my darling I’m afraid we’ll be riding on air. And I doubt these horses can fly."

Behind them was a great gathering nimbus. The blackness of it was as a plague of locusts in the skies. But he made Cora smile. And she was grateful for it. "Stop playing." She caught a loose piece of rock that jumped at horses thunderous galloping and tossed it at him. They were both standing in the chariot but unfazed at the furious riding. Rafel guessed he had to thank Dementa for that. He’d been pretty good with wheels before he met the Junker queen but now, he was legendary.

How were the Freelands these days, though?

He and Cora were literally racing a storm. The first few days after Operation Perdition, it was all about keeping the truth behind 18 murders secret. The best Agents of the [C.S.A] were on the palace grounds with a sole duty to keep the news ignorant. The papers only wrote the trickles given them. Eighteen monks were found literally walloped to death. Simple and short. Since the media agencies of Titans Landing had had their field day with cases of the Butcher of Nokmaar and the Patch-work Man, an undetailed massacre gave a pass. Luckily for Special Agent Moira Kane and her Agents, the public bought it.

’SINNER PRIESTS!’ The headlines that week had read. freёweɓnovel_com

Eighteen corrupted monks and bishops caught ass-eating each other in the ’Holy Sanctum’ – air quotes there – were found shattered to limb pieces by what appears to have been a soul-hunting wendigo. It was on for five days. And that was it. But then no one knew, and would ever know that Rafel was that wendigo.

BRRAAACCCCKKKKK!

Thunder clapped behind them as violet lightning streaked the heaven. The weather was already several temperatures colder. Rafel’s whip flung high in the air like the lightning above.

"HIYAH! HIYAH! Come on, Olivette!" He pushed the Cherokee mare leading the small herd of the other three stallions driving the chariot.

The clouds were completely black now behind them and it seemed Rafel was being pursued by [Evil Eye] and not rain at all. His ears picked up on the sleet beating not too far away, in country. Creeping in was the whitish blanket of cold. No, it wasn’t winter. But the meteorology of the Continent wasn’t guided by mundane forces per se. In the city alone, two Skyling colonies fared. A coven of green mages that’d humiliate Timbuktu rainmakers. Cora’s ash veil was abruptly snatched by the wind. "Son of a..." She watched the little material stream in the frigid currents of the storm—wrecked like a child’s kite on a hill. "Mtcheeew—" Cora hissed, "I don’t think we’ll make it, without magic I mean."

Rafel met her blue eyes and knew she was right. He pulled a demon’s claw from his first finger and cut the reins. "Make your own way, herd." He spoke to the horses. The steeds dashed like quicksilver away, free of the weighing chariot. He watched them follow Olivette’s lead in the plains to wherever the fuck horses went to during a storm. Then he turned and nodded to Cora.

"Get us the hell outta here."

She nodded right back. And began excerpted words from the Song of Arcane—a druidic guide.

"Pillar of fire, Smoke from Alma. Mormon’s cold touch, witches bliss. I, friend of fiend, seek escape of reality. Beholden...a godless kiss, the boon of immortality!"

"Boon of Immortality! BOON OF IMMORTALITY! BOON! BOON! BOOOOON!!!" Her voice went ringing out in an arc, scattering dust and hollow air. Rafel could stir umbrage, enter [Noir]: the Darken space, and have them from here to the palace in a breath. But Cora was a Revenant not a demon like he. Noirspaces were...cruel to those without devil blood. He himself could only manage the utterly macabre monsters that existed therein because he was Hel royalty—and everybody knew fucking Lilith.

"PILLAR OF FIRE. . .SMOKE FROM ALMA!!!" Cora’s resounding voice took, and shook the ambiance as a fiery light swamped them up. Wispt! They were spirited away. But not before Corazón flipped the big, black sky a bird.

Their forlorn carriage was soon swallowed in pounding rain.

The teleportation lasted all of two seconds. Though she felt her stomach upset in the brief, blinding instant, Cora didn’t retch. Rafel materialized calmly at her sight like he’d just walked off a stage at Ball Parade. Cora eyed their new environment. "We’re here." She pinkened at his smile of pride. "Yes, we are. A compliment is in order, General." He enamored her. They were standing in the vibrant foyer of the North wing—in the Castle. The long windows were shut and the silver drapes with the emblem and seal of House de Vries were grandé, but mute. In fact, everywhere was really quiet.

Cora looked around again.

"Where is everybody? I thought they were expecting u—"

SPLUUURRRRKKKKK!

Rafel froze.

Something had intercepted Cora’s voice. It didn’t sound good. It sounded like a squelch, like blood and guts. Before that split-second of this horrible sound, his [Intuition] had been delivering small charges to his horns; however invisible as the twin spikes were, they were still atop his head. A warning. A premonition.

—an omen.

But since Peitho was not saying anything in his head, he’d put away the tingles and Spidey senses. Until now.

Rafel felt the punch—the wrath of it—the expanding force like a comet. He actually heard the breeze coming with it, the shift in the air, and that horrible sound. Locked in slow motion not of his making, praying to all the gods beneath and yonder, he turned to look at the spot where Cora had been, for he had been looking elsewhere, turned to observe like her why everywhere was so quiet. The sight that met his eyes had them blurring in instant tears.

He croaked, "C-C-Corazón? CORAAAAA!!!" He screamed.

A giant’s hand was through her belly—monstrous fist embedded in her guts. The slice at her midriff exposed much intestines. Deep, wet blood ran in rivulets down her lovely legs to the ground: the polished tiles glowing. Her ribs were broken and busted. Visceral organs dropped like butcher’s tripe—squelching, still warm from her inner body heat.

Rafel couldn’t believe his eyes.

"No. No. No. No. No." He kept muttering.

Cora’s ocean eyes were wide. They never left his. Someone had punched a hole in her. A really big hole! She was [S Rank] but even she couldn’t heal that. An assailant shouldn’t even be able to touch her, for she was a Revenant and could become immaterial with the flip of her hair. But the monster had snuck up on them. Rafel even hadn’t seen him emerge. So fast...for a—

His own gaze kept lifting as he looked on the foe.

A giant.

Bald as a vulture. White as a cockerel. Eyes like brimstone. Muscled like a freaking hill.

Squelch! The albino giant pulled out his cruel fist. More blood leaked from Cora’s trembling lips. She struggled to grasp onto some part of her intestines. Rafel spaced out. He caught her before she could fall. Seeing her breathing thin out, his eyes exploded in [Hellfire]. His whole body flamed up like a scarlet sun and he was just about to obliterate this hot-boiled giant when a very calmwater voice filled the Ephesian vestibule.

"I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Apollyon."

[To be continued.]