Conquest Of The Fallen: Dark Dominions

Chapter 64: Carnage Spell [II]

[? I Put A Spell On You – Nina Simone.]

Israfel reanimated in front of the Emberfall manor as a storm of shadows. The swirling and rolling darkness smoothly peeled back layers of umbrae to reveal his handsome visage. He was extra pale tonight. Cora answered the door at the first ring.

In the thirty seconds she took to run down the Landing, Rafel turned up his eyes to heavens.

The Eldorian skies, formerly silvery blue when he awoke this morning was now a dense, ominous black and tinged by shards of crimson lightning. It sparked more evilly than his own demonic eyes. He felt the paranormal touch of some dark entity in the firmament. The air smelled and frothed like Hel.

This thick darkness up above extended all out from Emberfall to the Capitol and swarmed like a tent of locusts, reaching out even to the Cold Sea. It enveloped all of Eldoria's aerial territory. But this was no ordinary cloud. Like a Titan's fist, it choked the shit out of his wards. The arcane barriers would not hold for long.

He, at this moment called to memory the famous words of some Seer, 'The things I fear most have dawned upon me. And my fear has ten red eyes and a crown of thorns.'

As his Uncle, Lord Morningstar liked to say,

"If it stinks like sulphur and looks like death, then it is probably from the Underworld."

Gazing up at the grim sky totally devoid of any light and hanging like cracked obsidian, ready to thrash the earth in a rain of a billion black glass shards, he didn't need to guess twice whose handiwork this was. Even without Cora's message to inform him, Rafel knew it was one of The Fallen.

Hell! It fucking smelled like a cemetery up here. All gloom and doom. The premonition of reckoning was well received. Rafel didn't scare easily—if at all, but the god of deception sure knew how to throw a death party. Mephistopheles had come for his price.

And he was letting the whole continent know. Rafel stifled the urge to call his Aunt or Uncles for help, way down deep.

If he could take out Meph on his own—and not die in the process—there would be nothing between he and the [Supernatural Savior] SS, RANK. All the trophies upon the motherfucker's head he would claim. But that was a BIG FUCKING IF.

He turned around when the doors shot open. Cora was behind them. Her blue eyes shot up to the hinder skies and back to him as she bowed sweetly. And Rafel knew he would die before he let fucking Meph touch one of his women.

She said, "Welcome, Your Grace. It is as we feared. The bastard is here."

Rafel entered in through the doors.

She continued, "Ravenna is antsy. She blames herself for this aggregious omen fallen on the city. I have tried to assure her that it is not her fault. This fucking Archdemon potentially murdered her mother, did gods know what to her father, and disemboweled a Count just to send a message. She is just a dove caught in between threads of the malevolent and mighty. But she wouldn't hear of it.

She offers to give herself to Mephistopheles, if it would spare the kingdom his wrath.

I left her with Aya so she wouldn't do nothing rash."

Rafel said, "Well, I too would not hear of any martyrdom on her part. Or any of MINE! She is not some sacrificial lamb. You can tell her that. And as for the future of the empire, I think a Fae on the throne can handle the invasion of the Underworld. Giselle is even now rallying all her armies to a defense.

However Mephistopheles chooses to appear, WE WILL FACE HIM.

As I have faced Wyverns and Bonereavers in the arena, I will make my stand. If anyone is to blame for the presence of A Fallen in the mortal realms, it's me. If ANYONE is to die TONIGHT, it's me. But I am not handing her over to that cunning prick. YOU CAN TELL HER THAT TOO."

"Actually, Your Grace, I think she heard you." Cora made a show of hands to the corner.

Out from the shadows beside a sculpture bearing an alabaster Valhallan [Hero], Ravenna emerged.

Camerlengo's painting: THE HORNED GOD, was larger than life and casted in relief behind her. At her heels were Aya Naamah and Annabelle, Mia too, furiously flapping her tiny turquoise wings. They all stood in the Landing, on the ornate crimson tiles of the lobby; the grand chamber was dimly lit in dewy candles. Ravenna approached cautiously, playing with her hands.

Rafel knew he was being selfish, cruel even to the hundreds of thousands diverse magical races that would be cannon fodder to Mephistopheles' arrival. Just like Sir Lucius. But looking at the wiry figure of Ravenna emerge: her tumultuous dark hair a flood and halo from which her bright green eyes shined, it was impossible not to damn them all to their fate.

He was being selfish alright—with her!

Ravenna ran the remaining steps to him, hugging so tightly he felt her ribs.

"Still skin and bones," he tried to joke.

Ravenna only swatted at his broad chest. She pulled away only a fraction to peer up into his fiery eyes. Once, she had feared his gaze landing on her would singe said skin off her bones. Now...she just loved looking into them.

Ravenna's eyes watered. "Thank you for saying all that. No one has ever cared for for me that way. Cared enough I guess!" She sniffled into his chest. "—remember that rainy night when I showed up here like out of the blue, sodden and dripping on your affluent steps like a damn rodent?"

Rafel smiled. For that brief moment, it melted away the lurking pressure of war.

"I remember you being cute," taunted Rafel.

Ravenna's piercing jade eyes held. "You took me in. You looked into my eyes, a girl you didn't know or understand and you just... took me in. I don't know many people who would do that. But you—did the one they call 'Demon'." Ravenna looked round to the others: Cora.

Aya Naamah. Annabelle. "Same as you did for them. And so tonight, Lord Israfel BlüdThïrste...no matter what the death clouds brings, no matter the war that pillages the lands, no matter the darkness that may fall, WE ALL STAND WITH YOU."

Rafel felt kind of teary at her speech. All he could say was, "Thank you, Little Raven."

She nodded and finally let go from their embrace.

"I'm gonna go with Cora now. She's invited her whole coven to reinforce the wards. We'll all be in the next room."

Her dainty hands dropped from Rafel's and as Aya and Annabelle walked to his sides, Ravenna followed Cora away from the Landing and into the adjoining home lounge. Eight other females were in there already: one [Dark Witch] representative for every realm under the great shadow of the Eldorian Empire. All the witches in her coven present were [Rank A] and above.

As Aya went to fetch Rafel a drink—he ordered a war special: mermaid's blood—the entire Manor fell into tense silence. Outside, the rolling skies went even blacker until the night was so thick it seemed like an eclipse. It was an eclipse, for the clock was yet to strike the sixth hour. Rafel listened to Cora as she began the chant.

All Sister Witches linked hands as she led with an opening dark grace.

"Queen of the Night, Mother of Languishing, thine daughters call unto thee. Flesh and blood we are, but honored to walk in your purple light."

"FLESH AND BLOOD WE ARE!" The eight others, including Ravenna recited in a chorus.

"Matriarch of the Dark Arts, Sorceress Supreme, and princess of the Fallen, we beseech you to bless in your unholiness with your [Divine] Grace our spell. By your dark light, may carnage fall tonight."

"MAY CARNAGE FALL TONIGHT!"

A full minute of utter silence held—Rafel heard the idle, ticking Grandfather clock a storey above. And then came the quietest of whispers. Cora had begun the witching. She chanted in the ancient mystical tongue no one these day could decrypt. In a unified voice of arcane sorcery, lilting like whips of a [Tormentor], the witches spell of carnage casted thus,

"O invicti dei, audite nos,

Mala omnia pellite, hinc et eos,

Purga hoc locum, sanctum sit,

In tenebras hostes mitte, sine fit,

Lux tua nos regat, semper nit."

[Interpretation:

O invincible gods, hear us now,

Banish all evil, here and from thou,

Cleanse this place, make it pure,

Send foes to darkness, let it endure,

Let your light guide us, ever sure.]

Ravenna at the end of it took a knife and slashed across her palm. Her dripping blood didn't fall but floated in the air to the center of the circle. The next witch collected the grim dagger. And round they went, each cutting themselves and drawing blood. For to harm the kind of Archdemon lurking just above the wards, a [Blood Ritual] was necessary.

It costed so much as [999 000 Soul Coins] in a [Legendary Mystical Blood Bank].

All the witches blood of covenant collected in a small whirling bulb high up the air in the midst of them. They were all chanting and repeating a dark stanza into the night. All the manor's candles had winked out. Only the auras of their united dark circle lit the area from the lounge room, haloed out to the Landing.

"PURGA HOC LOCUM, SANCTUM SIT!"

"CLEANSE THIS PLACE, MAKE IT PURE!"

Just then, a jolting wind blasted across from beyond in the Woods, tearing through the moorland of the estate, it hit the Manor so hard the beams splintered and windows cracked. Ravenna jumped in the circle. This juggernaut of a gale wasn't a result of their spells.

VRRROOOOOOOM!

The doors shot blindly in, both torn off at the shingles.

The dark witches ran out to the dim foyer and swarmed about Rafel. A rushing cold wind froze the blood under their flesh. They all stared out in whipping garments as the black clouds shockingly merged into the shape of a great fist. It strangled the wards. Cora saw the mystical dome whine and break.

The barriers of magic fell apart like scales on a slain dragon: shiny and pricey, but dipping down into nothingness. As shooting stars, fragments of it fell and twinkled, dimming out in the darkness.

All at once, everyone in the Manor saw the mighty entity in dark, flowing robes, highlighted in arcane green. He floated in the clouds.

Mephistopheles... he was flying.

And those at the coast—the hundreds of worried fishermen and traders, saw the next horrifying thing. The very ground shivered and thudded under them. Goats and hens screamed and ran under their legs. Men looked up and saw them.

...the Titans.

Out from the Cold Sea the fathers of the Giants arose. Only now the waters boiled. Flesh made of volcanic rock. Blood burning as lava. Their mere astonishing frames blotted out any hopeful rays of the sun. Women fell to their knees and wished for a swift death.

Children gawped at their hundred feet form. The Titans would be glorious—if they weren't so evil.

As Emberfall faced its terrors, the continent faced its annihilation.