Conquest Of The Fallen: Dark Dominions

[ A/N: Keep an open mind for this Chapter. √∆•]

Incest was one of the most controversial topics in the Nine Realms. Either that of the Van Imperia royal family currently toppled from reign, or even to the plebeian commoner families trenching it out in the undercity self-governed by the gambling overlords. It was such scandal that never ceased from the mouth.

The situationship of a father bedding it out with his girl child after a drunken night, or a bar wench mum whose kiss of goodnight always turned into something else with her boy when his sailor father was away; these stories made for hot gossip and good punchline in night taverns.

However, only highborn families could bear the open weight of wedding siblings—just like a fortnight ago when news had reached the Corynthian isles that the Governess of the Republic of Rocasus had just put to bed. . .again. And this new boy child bore striking resemblance to her one and only twin brother.

Mikhail Romanov, the Rocasian heir prince still carried his head high when he walked the school halls. Such was the defense that nobility could buy.

If a commoner wife dared birth a child who shared the same eyes of her sibling, she'd risk being a pariah. But not so with Royals. In fact, it was of certain praise when the past King of Eldoria had sired a child with his first cousin: the child now the felled queen, Giselle Van Imperia.

By all of this history of their Empire was Nicara certain that her students will choose the option of a Play where taboo was featured. It made for more interesting scenes.

"Let me be clear," the Headmistress pronounced. "There will be no nudity, on or off set. And the lead cast who shall perform the roles of Oedipus, Laius, and Jocasta must be of no familial ties. I have given strict instruction to our Drama Club on this. The play shall be called, Of Sons And Mothers, and will feature in this same Hall five days hence."

Students were already whispering about what girl and what boy would be best for the lead Oedipus and infamous Jocasta. Dr. Nicara Shetty cleared her throat. "That will be all, students. Now off you go, you lot. Get to class."

Chairs rattled Magdalena's Hall in scraping noises as all young witches of the academy shuffled out, the variety of the mixed magical species causing a smile from Nicara who still stood on the podium. This was what the First Druids who had founded the institute wanted: a neutral place where every thing arcane could thrive.

The heads of the tall Amazons peaked higher than the rest as the pupils made their way out through the door.

Nicara adjusted her glasses and looked over the empty seats.

One fellow still remained on his chair.

"Israfel." She breathed.

As if conjured by her little moan, the young demon prince appeared in a blur at her side on stage, by an excellent use of quicksilver speed. He was a red flash across. Nicara sent a spying eye around the hall one more time before sneaking a kiss onto his lips. "I've missed you, Apollyon."

Rafel nodded. "Same, Luna."

He complimented her weretiger title.

Nicara led the way off the stage and through a small corridor exit out the side of the assembly hall. It opened onto a larger, resplendent archway that looked like it had been lifted off a castle's side. It was elegant and baroque. Nicara's red nails clicked together as she walked Rafel to his class.

The Headmistress seldom hid her claws. Since they were far from Titans Landing and the domicile of mundane mortals, she saw no use for it.

"Are you thinking of auditioning for the role of Oedipus?" she asked on their short stroll.

Rafel shook his head.

"Words, young man." Nicara coaxed. "I only like your broody self when we're having sex." Her voice dropped to a murmur on the last part. "So, are you?"

Rafel responded in a sure treble. "No, ma'am. I rather prefer to engage real taboo. And from what you said earlier in assembly, there's no guarantee of sex. You do know that few of the students haven't gotten over Professor Ivoria's nude showing at the Hunt. It wouldn't be bad to spare them a taste of ripeness once in a while."

Nicara turned to him. "For you, Israfel, I'll think about it."

"This is me." Rafel stopped abruptly in front of a classroom with the [First Year] beginner's rune over the doorway. "Thank you for walking me to class."

The Headmistress winked at him with a generous scarlet smile before starting away.

"Always a pleasure, Apollyon."

Rafel stayed by the doorway a while, watching her hips go. Jocasta had nothing on the headmistress. If Nicara Shetty were the wife of his father, whoo! Rafel definitely knew what he would do. He had seen no picture of the mother of Oedipus, but he'd an inkling she had been a super hot MILF. Why else would the lad kill his own father to keep fucking his mum?

In Rafel's state of mind, Fate or Prophecy had nothing to do with it.

Quietly, he dipped his red head and entered his first class of the day. [Miniverse Building]. Most of his fellow course practitioners had on black jackets. Of Raven Arc, all of them. They gave him a look as he passed by. To the members of Shadow Faction, Rafel was the rogue kinsman who had chosen to represent his other manifested Arc in the Games over them.

But Rosamunde; seated quietly in the back corner blew him a kiss. She never stopped believing he was a true Raven at heart, no matter what the Arc Crystal had said.

Throughout the week, conversations in the Corynthian Academy were all about the upcoming play. On the mouths of tutors and apprentices alike. The gray flyers with the tragi-comedic mask faces were sent out. And the line for auditions ran long in the hallway. Every Tom, Dick, and Harry of the institute wanted a chance at being Oedipus. It went to show how many a lad had mommy issues in this school.

Plus the rumor was that the chosen 'Jocasta' for the play was a well-endowed and fleshily wrapped chick. That was incentive enough to get the bros of Sigma House in line—even if the only acting they'd done up until now was in the bedroom.

It didn't matter. For the right to play the part, many boys schooled naughty behaviour and crammed into their heads the offered script. Alas, only one Oedipus could be chosen. To keep the play enigmatic, the cast were to remain a mystery until they mounted the stage.

The characters practiced in secret locations and dramatized musicals for the Talent Hunt occasion in halls far off from the main Citadel.

Despite the mystery of the play, Of Sons and Mothers, Rafel had an inkling of who the reputable motherfucker was. And 'motherfucker' was used to mean literal. His roommate, Percival of House Van Imperia had been missing more than a few nights since the auditions began.

'Who else to play the traumatic love of a son for his mother than the golden boy of the state?' thought Rafel. 'Who better?' He said nothing of his suspicion to his friend.

The evening of the school's Talent show was well magicked by a sect of wildling [Witch Acolytes]. A spell was cast so that the skies dusked like summer of Queen Giselle's reign and the air made to fresh as the Apryl spring. A cool woodsy wind was conjured from the outlying tropical forest of the island to weave through the paved streets of the campus. A gale that soothed the skin.

Rafel hopped off a carriage minutes after a luxury dip in bath pool some mermaid fan of his had offered—and no, nothing went down—in front of the grand steps of the academy's Citadel. The main tower stroked passing twilight clouds as a greyish obelisk. Splendid candlelights ran off the blitzy front of the tower.

Rafel found the girls waiting in front of the place. He greeted them warmly.

"Hey. How was your week?"

"Rushed." Corazón took his hand first.

Rafel waited for them to gather all around him in their smashing dresses, representative of their Arc colors. He particularly loved Ravenna's studded silver gown; courtesy of their find at the Eldritch Keep, his ladies had more than farmer's worthy gold to spend on their wardrobes now, but he still paid, and was glad to see when they stepped out.

"You all look beautiful. Now come on. Let's see this show." He chaperoned them in.

A bunch of students were already in and seated when their group moved across the red carpet aisle. And the dodge theater was filling by the second. Rafel found a seat for them at the extreme left row, but thinking better of it he led them on towards the stairs and up to a perch for a private gallery.

"Isn't this booth usually reserved for Fourth Years and tutors?" Ravenna whispered, though her tone was excited.

"Yes, Little Raven." Rafel pushed the curtains and offered the girls several seats in the booth to take. "—but we are an exception, especially tonight," he finished with a salacious look up and down at their gazelle forms.

Gently, he lifted his hands and shut the velvet drapes again, sealing them in their own private world, up above the filtering crowd, where the stage loomed under them like the sea on a beachfront property.

Rafel listened as the girls made small talk about the past five days. They hadn't really seen much of each other. Professors kept them engrossed in the arts, desperate to keep their attention before this very day, and the next, which was another round of the Spring Games.

The swimming—with alligators—bit.

Ten minutes later and the room was packed. And the red drawn curtains of the stage parted.

Swish!

The first group were a charismatic choir singing a medley of Valhallan folk music and ecclesiastical high worship. It sounded really good. And Rafel commanded Peitho to produce and store a recording of it in his [Gladorium] pocket, Realm of Song. Who knew when next he'd face a minotaur and need a sweet lullaby to faze the beast.

Rafel didn't particularly fancy the holy church, but damn! Their music was. . .heavenly.

The next group was a solo artist. A boy skilled in yodeling. And though the crowd roared in laughter to his sonorous, "Yodeleehee! Yodeleeheehee!" The boy sang his heart out. "He is probably from the boglands," Cora observed. And she was right.

From the river of Rocasus to Nokmaar, it's people were adamant on music.

Swiftly following this brave Yodeler was an Acapella group unsurprisingly boasting several members of the Pynks. In the lead, Erika Burgess herself. The boys in the room did clap and cheer, but were too busy staring for flare-outs of their high fashion skirts to do much else.

On and on the talents came. Beyond the flush magic streaming in the veins of each and every kid in the fancy theatre, the boys and girls who mounted the stage tonight did have much more than arcane energy within them. Rafel was pleased. It was a good show. No awards were given, but the young Talents did garner extra points for trying.

Finally, the big finale came on.

The red curtains were drawn again for about a minute and the lights in the theatre dimmed dramatically. An applause was rendered from the crowd. And the spotlight was made to beam down on the center of the stage as a student, clothed in a medieval buffoon wear rose from the floor.

His bulbous red nose grabbed giggles from the girls and Rafel smiled at the boy's puke-green hair.

"It's such a garish makeup. Magnificent!" Ravenna lauded in the booth.

This introducing buffoon hopped around a few times on stage, drawing more laughter when he twirled and square-danced to jaunty music in his polkadot skirts and elfish shoes. The music faded into the background. And the buffoon raised his hands in comedic gallore, enrapturing the crowd to lean in.

"Hear ye! Hear ye! I am the Jester of fallen times. The herald of wanton stories. Aye! I have heard of many deviant tales: of a lad who suckled on the udders of his favorite ewe.

. ."

PAAAHNN! A trombone made a noise of mockery and the crowd laughed.

". . .and a maiden who loved to grab the cock of her husband's horse and kneel under it. Perhaps, to shoe the animal."

PAAAHNN!

"Hahaha!" More laughter and cheering erupted.

"Oh my god." Rosa's eyes teared up behind Rafel. All in the theatre definitely knew that maiden was not grabbing the horse's cock to shoe the animal, or whatever. "What the fuck!" She giggled. "They're really good."

It got better.

"Lo, I present to you this even, a tale of such sorts!" The buffoon announced, hopping from end to end. "A story of forbidden love and faithful prophecy. I present to you, all the way from the faraway land of Thebes. I present the story of Oedipus. In this right tonight, 'ere shalt be called, OF SONS AND MOTHERS!"

The Jester raised his hands profoundly, shouting the last words and vanished in spoof of silver smoke. Clapping instantly went off from all corners of the theatre. In his shadowed booth, Rafel felt Ravenna's slim hand reach for his as the high red curtains parted and ushered in the first act of the Play.