Conquest Of The Fallen: Dark Dominions Chapter 352: Oceanmaster III—Atlantean Surprise

"SO TELL , MY KING, why did you change your na?"

Eotigan’s cup of tea froze under his lips at Maya’s question—such irony.

He forced himself a sip and gently put down the saucer and mug. The ship’s crewn’s voices floated by like distant bells on a cliff. All the other patrons enjoying a warm al under the tent continued well away, oblivious to the tension at his table. It was growing. Kambili had dropped her gaze and busied her hands with the fray-white linen coverlet, aware of the opinion that who was she to rise to the discussion of a sea deity and a prince of the abyss?

Inaia waved the awkward server whom appeared to take off the trays away.

"Go." she mouthed. One word that might save his life.

It was obvious on the table roundabout; only Yemaya of the great seas was bold—and powerful enough to ask this of the Apollyon. Eotigan had said nothing in seconds. Inaia thought he’d just up and leave. Breakfast was over after all.

He didn’t.

Pressed by the concerned look in the goddess’s eyes—add that to her unnaturally shaped sickle pupils—Eotigan finally drew up himself in bravado and confessed. "I had to."

Inaia and Kambili shared a look under his amber eyes. Maya’s lips curled. Eotigan didn’t let slip more than those three words. It wasn’t the answer she wanted. But an answer it was. Maya put her most understanding face on, leaning over and saying, "my king, we have seen each other in the past enough for to know bits of your fiery heart. I know detachnt when I see it." She sighed when he didn’t so much as blink. And she leaned back, the table going quiet for a while. Only the ember wind stirred across the tent. "...I heard about Stormanos."

Eotigan’s stare abruptly shifted toward the rolling sea. Maya ploughed on—of course knowing she could quench it if he suddenly breathed fire at her, which he could: "all of Atleantea heard about Stormanos," she said, "the sky war. The streams of fire raining down upon one city. The blotted night. Ash. Burning. Ruin. The umber drag—"

"I’m not talking about this." Eotigan stilled her further speech. "...I will not. I demand you drop this inquisition. You’re right; you do know bits of my heart. So I trust you respect my intellect enough to know the decision I made to change my na was no brash one.

I go by Lars Eotigan now, a warrant sergeant of the Royal Eldorian Forces. So tell , Bringer of Storms, am I still your King?"

Maya’s frosty eyes didn’t pale on his when she told him truthfully, "always, my King. Always."

She dropped the subject imdiately. The man sitting opposite her at the table was a master of several battles. If he’d chosen to change his na – to relinquish the great favor that ca with it – then she knew it was for a damn good reason. She had garnered enough from the outbreak of gossip after [Stormanos] to suspect the reason for the ergence of Sgt. Lars Eotigan, rank officer extraordinaíre. She boldly told it:

"I never liked that cunt."

Everybody at the table heard her. No one breathed a word in return, certainly not Inaia, though she glanced whom the sea goddess referred to. Eotigan wanted to say, "that cunt is my mom. That cunt murdered my girlfriends. That cunt is the reason I need therapy. That cunt is dead." But he didn’t open his mouth.

"—so, what are you working on?" Maya relaxed in her opal tweed chair.

She was following Eotigan’s lead; changing the subject; letting the other uncomfortable won actually feel the sea breeze again; the standing waiter finally saw his chance and hastened in to grab the emptied silverware, quickly vanishing away.

"A mission." Eotigan answered.

Slips of the sun edging under the tent’s vast canopy hit his gold irises, turning him more lupine.

Maya flashed a smile to Inaia at his sort of seraphic beauty. By the Martyr, her lord [Host] was a beaú. "Really?" said Maya, "all you’re gonna keep giving is such glum answers? Are all Hel’s royalty this emo? I’m unimpressed, Apollyon. Co oooon. Gim sothing! I know you ain’t shy under the covers. I’ve seen it! You’ve gat the charm. . .the aura! The ritz of fucking lightning!" Eotigan knew she was baiting him for a smile. He let one show and Maya nearly clapped in the tent. "So what’s this mission then?" she coaxed. Eotigan shook his head. She pressed, causing Kambili to giggle. "Tell . We are literally married."

Eotigan shrugged, succumbing to her ga. "Yeah, but we ain’t fucking."

Kambili giggled higher.

"That’s not my fault, is it?" Maya raised her brows derisively. She looked left to Kambili. "And we did fuck, one ti. A fourso, if I rember correctly."

Kambili lost it, tears in her eyes. Their couples banter was unique. A thing of drama. She didn’t know gods could be this funny. Imagine, a water queen and a fiery devil. Oh, such life. Kambili listened for more. They were still going at it; this turn of dialogue broke the initial ice if anything, "That was eons ago!" Eotigan repelled. "—I haven’t seen that ass in forever." Maya watched him bend across in his chair to catch a glimpse. "Oh this ASS you an." She rose up a bit and gave him a better see. Just enough for his naughty gilded eyes to enjoy for a bit, but not enough for the arduous restaurant servers to notice. Eotigan pointed squarely. "Yeah! That ass!"

And they all burst out laughing.

Kambili and Inaia covered their faces, shaking, and Eotigan and Maya shared monts of eye contact and glee. Though they stifled their choking, cathartic fits, several tables turned to stare when Inaia snorted. And they all laughed even harder.

The looks on the faces of the other passengers was priceless.

The mighty frigate coasted on, and the sounds of their dirty jokes carried on the wind. Eotigan was moving his hands for her to quit with the teasing two minutes later, but Maya’s deal was adamant: "Want to stop? Then you better get to telling this mission of yours. What’s so wrong about it anyway?" She grinned, "start talking or I’m gonna climb these table in front of all this good people and start wining. I should tell you, I’ve got a pretty watery waist."

"Oh my gods. Please make her stop." Inaia begged, choking and red in the face.

Eotigan made a fake grumble, sighing, "you don’t play fair, do you, Bringer of Storms. Well, since you’ve BLACKMAILED out of my position, I’ll tell you. I have pulled three [Missions] from the Arcane shop. The first: I have to find and make a pirate MILF beg to steer my rudder."

Maya looked at the girls, and back to Eotigan. Her lips were already trembling.

"Are you for real?"

Eotigan was unruffled as a duck’s feather. "You asked for it."

"What the. . .a pirate MILF. . .your RUDDER?!" Yemaya let out the laughter that had been bubbling inside of her since the hot bath just spill out. She loved her a funny, beautiful, naughty man, and by her Loia—her pet whale—Eotigan was all those things. She had the sniffles. "Ohh, is that what it’s called now? RUDDER?" Fresh mirth filled her. "Is there anything you wouldn’t call your dick? I like it though, I admit; sounds mysterious and bad. . .RUDDER!" she stressed the D’s, "—here, Mrs. Charmane, STEER my RRRRUDDDER! Hahahaha..."

Eotigan was pink on his top ears. "Goddammit, Maya!"

But he really didn’t want her to rein it in. The Bringer of Storms was damningly pretty when she laughed. He enjoyed her glow. Maya quit in the fourth minute, dabbing at her eyes with the toss napkin; her crescent pupils bore a glittery sheen. "So..." Eotigan addressed her, putting his best poker face forward, "—know any notorious crews around?"

Maya looked about the table. "You’re serious about this then." She searched their collective gaze for affirmation. And then began telling Eotigan all he needed to know. Considering her [Prowess] as queen of the seas she was really the best person to answer this. It was as fate’s providence to Eotigan. Thus she spoke: "If you’re really looking for the most notorious sea gangs, my king, then it is two words – Kala Domoni. I’m sure you’re already familiar with the Black Flaggers, the learned man that you are. Which is why you and I know that infiltrating their ranks to ’find and make a pirate MILF beg to steer your rudder’ will be nothing short of a divine demonstration, that is if they’ve even got MILFs aboard in the first place.

I doubt anyone is out there keeping cougars as first-mates." Maya watched his expression as she paused; she was right. He knew this. His eyes told her to go on. Maya introduced the best crew for his [Mission I] simply, "The Ice Spears," she said, "You can find your MILF there. They are not the Domoni but equal savages. In their raids, they skewer and impale both man, monk and lamb. Their head-man I believe is a Captain Percival van Tuane.

—a bastard of Lithyrian royalty or so he claims. Ruthless for his very elusive robberies and island heists."

Eotigan didn’t know why in that mont but the picture of his very blonde, blue-eyed old friend, Percival van Imperia entered his mind. But his Percival was no bastard. No. That golden -haired faerie boy he’d gone to the Corynthian Academy for Witches with was the true heir to the White Throne—after the putsch that ruined the Nova Imperia dynasty. Since fucking Lilith exploded the Citadel at [C.A.W], Percy had beco ghost.

Perhaps a prayer for lost boys. Perhaps a wish. Still Eotigan asked Maya, "this Captain Percival, you said he’s a bastard, yeah?"

Maya nodded. "Yeah. And a right bloody one from what the dolphins tell . Why?"

Eotigan decided to be truthful. "Nothing. Just reminded of soone I knew."

"I know how that feels." Inaia said for the first ti since she’d dropped her teacup. "A pock of brown hair faraway can feel like a lost friend these days. A ghost on the wind. A mory of a past. A fignt. Soone we used to know. Ever since the fall of the Capitol and rise to Titans Landing, everybody’s just lost so much sotis even stalks in a cornfield seem like the dead they themselves buried. A heart’s deception."

Inwardly, where only she could hear, Eotigan said to her. ’Let’s hope it is.’

He caught Maya’s eyes on him and instantly rembered. She had reconstituted out of falling water one hour ago with no reason as to why. None she’d given. He wanted to know. It was his turn to ask the hard question. So he looked her straight in her strange, enchanted eyes, and he said,

"Why are you here, Bringer of Storms? You haven’t ntioned."

Maya looked gently upon the handsost, most cold-blooded, heroic demon she had ever seen, and very sweetly and easily she replied.

"Oh, I want a divorce."

Kambili dropped her teacup with a crash.