Conquest Of The Fallen: Dark Dominions

Chapter 182: The Blood Rain

"DO NOT BE FRIGHTENED, CHILDREN." The veiled nun, Sister Mercy urged.

"How can we not?" A girl commented. The shades on her eyes and tribal turban marked her as one of the long progeny of Medusa. Hissing sounds could be heard under the tightly wound headgear. One would think a girl with snakes for hair would fear very little. But this was not the case.

At the moment, the illuminated classroom seemed more of a cellar in an Alexandrian treasure pyramid than a teaching hall.

The hollow torches lighted the nun's extra pale face, turning her innocent face to something of a creepy bambino. Outside the citadel was now total black; it was like night class. Bats whizzed about in the open air. One flew in, diving a scraggly path for the Medusa girl's Unari veil—the little serpents underneath looking very fetching to the bat.

The girl screamed and hopped on a chair. Her friend, a fae came to the rescue, and just as quickly blasted the damned creature with trace Sunfire. The instant funnel of gold energy brightened the classroom for some seconds as the bat was sent flying out. Someone immediately stood and shut the windows; they would be fine with the air from the cooling systems. Plus all the varied iguana lilies around.

The fae helped the Medusa girl down from the table.

"You see what I'm talking about!" She waved a hand at the shut glass windows, speaking to Professor Ivoria. "Case in fucking point."

The wildling tutor swallowed her correction. Temps were high.

"Yeah, what she said!" A jock filled his pockets with his ringed fingers. "Now I've seen some pretty dark shit, but this is DARK—like literally. It's an eclipse of the wayward planet, Rarjah. And we can't even cast it away, not with the best Druid Meisters this academy boasts. I think our worry is justified."

"Aye!" Other students nodded.

Their pretty teacher sought to ease them with a joke: Ivoria said, "frankly Master Bellefleur, I'm surprised you recalled the name of that planet."

No one laughed. She awkwardly cleared her throat and looked to Sister Mercy standing with her before the dim class. "A little help, Melissandre." The nun met her eyes with a whisper. "We can explain to them all about the Spell; keep them intrigued so the time passes and its over." Ivoria offered back. "But the plagues haven't even started yet."

"What plagues?" It was Israfel.

His vampiric hearing abilities had caught on their teacher and the visiting nun's hushed conversation. Rafel wanted to know. All the time spent under the grooming of his bosomy dark Elf tutor in Hel, he had heard, and read nothing of this [Holocaust Spell]. And his tutor had being very keen on enlightenment, in all the ways it could be taught. And you could quote him on that.

He was about to repeat his question when the overhead intercoms in all classes of the citadel buzzed to life. It was a general announcement from the Headmistress, Dr. Shetty.

As Rafel heard the honeyed voice cut down the mic, he imagined Nicara's willowy form and listened carefully.

"Hello, students of Corynthia. I am sure you all must now be aware of the recent occurrence in our pavilions. It is in our skies. As Headmistress of this great institute, I'd like to go over clandestine information you will not find in certain popular scripts but is mandatory for the current happening.

Firstly, let me assure you all: First Years through to my Fourth Year finalists, that you are all safe. Within the stretch of the Corynthian Academy, no harm will befall you.

As such, please relax in your seats as I explain the reason for this sudden darkness."

Rafel did see many shoulders slump back in their chairs and creases ease off foreheads. In front, Sister Mercy took Dr. Ivoria's seat, while the professor herself sat on the edge of her polished desk. They all were poised to listen on the headmistress begin again. Rafel hoped his friends were alright in their own classrooms. It was hard enough that the Manifest had split them into different Arcs.

He whisked away his thoughts and listened to Dr. Shetty as she continued, her voice clarion clear in the intercom system:

"This darkness which you all see outside is known as the Spell of Holocaust. Now, your professors might've told a bit of the history behind the name, so I'll only elucidate key points to guide you along this period.

Firstly is the timeframe. The spell lasts roughly six hours. Though the last two centuries of Baeleon the Bold's reign when it appeared, it lasted ten. We hope it lasts even less. Next will be the plagues, which I'll outline. Contrary to what you all did see, the Spell actually did start before darkness fell.

About ten minutes, give or take.

This eclipse you now see is the first plague. It will be followed by the Blood Rain. The Hysteria Curse. Wards Breach. And finally, the Song of Sallow. Now my veritable young witches, I know this all sounds strange and discomfiting, but I have sworn on the crest of the Magi.

And no harm will fall today.

The six hours of the Spell is an auspicious time. The veil between spirit and mundane realms is thin. But our wards around every hectare of school property is ranked Divine. No dead fuckers will be getting in—pardon my french." The students in Ivoria's class did laugh at this. Ivy did too and crossed her legs at the table's edge.

The headmistress was still speaking, "in the old days when people didn't understand the eerie darkness that would descend over the countryside and fishing villages for hours unending, they prayed to the Martyr and waited for the dark to abate. It did. But the folk were left with boils, edema, and even the death fever from walking out in the Blood Rain. They didn't understand the cause.

Thus, as a result of the many corpses in the aftermath of the long darkness, the folk called it the Holocaust. Over the decades the name stuck, and here we are today. King Baeleon instituted a curfew during his rule of the Capitol. Mostly, all we did was sleep it out." Dr. Shetty's voice caught, "and before you ask, no, I wasn't alive back then. I'm not that old."

The classroom drew high laughter. It helped ease the remnant tension. The headmistress concluded by saying, "the folk touched by the Blood Rain were made to kneel under the urination of Wild Shapes. Most times they were cured.

Nevertheless, I say all these to reassure you all, my darlings that we are on top of the matter. The wards have never been stronger. Our Sentinel Corps are well equipped to guard all north and south gates. We will see this through. All of us. So sit back my dears, grab yourselves some popcorn from the installed snack pockets in the hallways, put on some film—if your tutors allow it.

And be rest assured, you are all safe.

If you've any complaints, grab onto a flying envelope. And I'll see you in six hours. Stay magical, Corynthia!" The Headmistress's announcement ended. For some reason, the classroom broke into applause. Plenty were relieved.

"Would you let some werewolf piss in your mouth?" Olivar teased a brunette close to him; she sat in front.

The girl turned with a look. "If my life depended on it, then sure. Yeah."

"I bet you'd let him piss in your mouth anyway."

The brunette flipped him the bird. "Yeah you wish, Olivar. I don't take shit from pups."

She turned forward. Olivar kicked her chair. "I'm a wolf, dammit."

In front of the class, Professor Ivoria chastised him. "Leave her be, D'shenko. And Miss Parker, mind your front." Ivy folded her floral dress into her thighs and glanced at Sister Mercy before turning back on the class. "My teaching hour is over. Those who wish to get something to chomp on can leave. There's one of the snack pockets the Headmistress talked about on our floor.

Go, get something to drink. But don't leave the building!" She called high to those already rushing out for cans of lemonade.

Sister Mercy, Professor Ivoria, and about twenty other First Years remained in the classroom. Rafel was among them. He had told Olivar to grab him a ginger ale—if the pocket had it.

"Come, look, it's starting!"

Rafel focused at the voice. It was the little Medusa from before. She ran to the windows and glued herself to the cold panes, just as the first drop of crimson hit the glass. It didn't stick and fell away. More drops fell. Rafel rose from his seat and joined the others at the windows.

They all stared into the dark day, unified in watching interested as the third plague of the Holocaust Spell hit.

The Blood Rain.

Red pebbles dropped in pellets from a strange sky, and the wipers on the windows cleared away the crimson from settling and discoloring the tall glass. That way, Ivy and her class could watch the funny crimson showers fall all across the street yards below, and even, into the still lake across. The Blood Rain was weirdly enticing. And it was real blood—not rain that was red.

Students were glued to the windows of every class room in the citadel tower, not just [Potions and Poisons], and any brave-soul Sentinel out there could see their faces flattened on the glass, breaths mingling into fog, and eyes searching to understand the falling scarlet.

A certain faction were immune to this very plague. They braved outside to play in it. To frolic and to drink it. The faction of vampires. To them, the only thing more deserving of the attention in their immortal lives than literal, aromatic blood raining down from the skies, was the true death. The Blood Rain fell for a long time.

Rafel and the others were safe behind the glass.