A/N : This is one of the numerous Plot Bunnies mentionned in my biography...number 6, one of the early one that grew to become an unruly teenager but is now stuck there. Characters are not mine, I'm not making money out of them, yadda yadda yadda. It did went threw a spell checker but well...English isn't my mother language and some of those expression may be confusing. Drop me a line if you want to rant about it...I'm probably one of the few authors that is gonna ask for flames ! I'm a closet masochist I believe.
Pairing: Hint of Tim/Kon, Tim/Dick and Tim/Kon/Dick if you squint a little
The small tabby cat prowled in between the desk, each student eagerly waiting and praying for the feline to jump on his or her desk. All but the black haired serious looking kid that was uselessly praying for the creature to ignore him although he knew it was worthless. A part of his mind did a quick mental survey of the occupant of the classes and marked those that would most probably be choose. He was right for the three of them, including his best friend Bernard who was grinning in delight while the small beast rubbed against his hand, purring. The cat gave him a final head butt before smoothly jumping to the next desk. The desk of one Timothy Drake.
- Mister Drake, congratula...
- No.
The remaining of the over enthusiasm teacher sentence, proud to have so much mage potential in her class, was drowned by the boy curt reply. Shocked, the teacher opened her mouth to reprimand the boy but he kept talking in a cold voice that was unusual for the quiet boy...especially since he seemed to talk to the cat
- I won't be staying.
- Meow.
The cat answered, seemingly agreeing with him. The expression on the 16 years old student was so neutral that he could have been a statue...until you looked at his eyes. He pinched his lips and narrowed his eyes like he was trying to intimidate the small furry creature. After a few seconds where the tabby cat looked back peacefully, Drake fluently stood up while picking his backpack and, without looking at anyone, headed toward the exit where the other students waited. The cat jumped on his shoulder while he stood up and settled himself conformably. The mage student that had been escorting the feline – for it was obviously him that made the choosing – extended his arm for the creature to jump back to him but the tabby cat simply purred and rubbed it's nose on the young boy's throat. Frowning, the apprentice mage shooed rudely the others out, leading the way toward the gymnasium where a spirit walk was being organized for the potential mage wanna be.
There were around thirty people there, sited in circle. Not all of them would be able to join the spirit world for different reason but all of them had the potential. The ones already sited on the floor made room for the four new comers that arrived. They were the farthest class and the last to arrive. The cat jumped on the floor, asked for an ear scratch from Tim, who obliged, and trotted toward the Shaman who was pensively looking at the newcomers.
The three apprentices took their position in the south, east and west direction while the shaman, sited in the north, explained what a spirit walk was.
- Since this is your first time, I will take you into my spirit world. It is a plain. Each of you have his own world that'll you'll discover in time. Those of you that will be able to make it there will have to call a spirit guide. You don't choose your guide. He will choose you. Those of you that will make it will join me and we will discuss more there. In the worst case, you will fall asleep and wake up, remembering nothing...at the opposite, if you have enough potential and deemed worthy, you will meet your spirit guide. You won't have more than one unless, that is, your girlfriend has mage potential and really loves you or is your true soul mate. Now, settled down on the floor conformably...listen to my voice, close your eyes and relax...
All of the student had laid down and closed their eyes...except for one dark haired, blue eyed boy who crossed his legs, put his hands on his knees and, after suspiciously looking around him one last time, closed his eyes, cleared his mind and took one deep breath...before being propelled in the spirit world.
Tim looked around and blinked once. He wasn't in a plain at all. It was night, around midnight by the full moon position. He was on a rooftop of some skyscraper in a not identifiable city although...he could see Wayne Tower from there and the Titan Tower by the bridge and that building he and Nightwing had used for a rendezvous point in Bludhaven so...not one city but cities...his cities. He looked down at himself and let a small satisfied smirk show.
He was wearing his new costume, the one that had been waiting for him to grow up – graduate Arsenal would say – from Robin. Griffin, the new bat operative...or at least part of it. He had his black boots has well has his black pants with the dark red and orange ornate shin guard. He was also wearing his utility belt and his silver staff. What should have been a black plastron with a red v joining at his chest and ending in a line down to his navel was in fact a simple black blouse with light red marking on the sleeves. The red and black trench coat was also missing, replaced by a cape and hood also in black, orange and red itched at the bottom. All his clothes were still in reinforced Kevlar. He had his gloves but they were simple leather one with some padding to favours climbing.
Looking closer at the blouse, he was surprised to see that the red etchings on his arms were in fact the different martial arts and knowledge he had learned while, on the other arm, were the symbol of his friends – most in the vigilant community except for the poet feather he was sure represent Bernard. On his shoulders were the different Bat Member symbol along with Superman's S and Superboy slightly different shield...even a caducei to represent Leslie and he was pretty sure the stylized triangle who looked like a roof was Alfred. His Family. Tim was a bit saddened to not see any symbol that represented his father but he had made peace with his biological father rejection.
He also had a tail...that damn tail that he inherited from a run in with a sorcerer a few months ago and came back every full moon. But this transformation also augmented a hundred fold his sense of smell and hearing has well has his survival instinct...along with a few undesirable one. He would never stop hearing about the time he chased after a mouse during patrol. Passing his tongue on his teeth, he noted they were also Cat sharp and he didn't had to check to know that his ears were a lot more pointy than usual.
The wind picked up and played in his cape in a familiar way. Tim turned around, suddenly aware of someone else presence. In front of him was a fox. A large majestic red fox with piercing blue eyes was looking at him solemnly. His spirit guide. He nodded his head in deference to the being that returned the gesture. The two were savouring their silence and watching over their spirit world when a whoosh of air came down from the sky. Instinctively, Tim dived and rolled, coming up with his staff ready and a throwing star in his hands.
The thing was blue, red and gold and dived right on the Fox who crouched and wiggled his behind with what could only be described has a daring expression on his muzzle. The flying creature was a strange mix between what a mythological dragon would look like and a feline. The body was the size and shape of a large cat but was covered in scales and had a long forked tail. The head was on a neck of a few feet long, surmounted by a triangle shaped head with two small horns at the upper corners. The eyes, a vivid blue, were swirling around while smoke came out of his sharp looking mouth. The body was a dark red and blues. The gold came from the large leathery wing.
All this took only a split second to Griffin to analyse and, by the time he had a throwing star ready, the fox and the sort of dragon were rolling on the floor making vicious noise. He was going to jump in the fray to protect his spirit guide when a black shape moved in the shadow. Ready to defend against this new threat, the youngest bat r still kept an eyes of the two fighters which is why, when the black and blue panther jumped from the shadow to jump on the now two cuddling creature he did not attack. Now that the black panther was out of the shadows, rubbing and cuddling the fox and dragon, he might add, he could see it wasn't completely black but had strikes of dark blue on it along with a few nasty scars. Come to think of it, so did the fox but its red fur hide most of them. In shock, Tim sat down on the roof.
- You two are Dick's and Kon's aren't you ?
The dragon disentangled himself from the other two and rubbed his scaly head against Tim's leg with a strange cackling purr. Absentmindedly scratching the dragon's head like he would a kitten, he asked:
- I thought the shaman said only soul mate – as in one - or...powerful lover...I suppose both of you qualifies.
The three spirits guides looked at each other in a way that made Griffin think there was more to it than that. But the creatures didn't see fit to explain to him. The dragon looked back at the other two and gave what was definitely a sexual come on before taking off into the air but still keeping low enough for anyone roof jumping to catch him. The other two took off after him gleefully, swift and lethal in the night that was their territory. Smiling, Griffin took off after them. They were catching up to the dragon...or he was letting them catch up...when the building suddenly disappeared and he felt himself fall and fall and fall.
He landed on a plain and rolled instinctively, his tail balancing his movement, his staff at the ready, willing to take down any threat. This was a highly populated plain in his opinion. There was the shaman and the three apprentice of course but along with them was fifteen of the thirty students, sixteen with him. Briefly, Tim wondered if the number were significant before feeling a shiver move threw him. Looking down he found that his clothes had changed to adapt to this new spirit world.
He was now wearing a tunic which reminded him of Jedi apprentice in Star Wars but without sleeves, in black and with a dark red belt on which was a few of his usual pouches of weapons and gizmos. He still had his black pants and cape along with his boots but they were now in simple leather. His arms were something else thought. His left biceps was covered in several different tattoo in a Celtic kind of way, once more each represented one of the techniques he had learned in his training to become Robin but, contrary to the previous armour where the arts were only the one he had mastered this time it also showed most of the technique he had learned to what could be considered a high level. His left upper arm was covered in entwined design and lines.
Tim frowned. This Shaman standard wasn't high if he had so many markings. The young vigilante kept examining his arms. The right arms had his different affiliation if he could read the signs correctly. The Bat Symbol, El's House of Krypton Insignia, the T of the Titan's and a few more obscure group which he was more or less part of...at least he wished they were obscure to the Shaman because he wasn't too sure how to explain why he had marking for a thief guild and Lady's Shiva mark on his arm. His left forearm had armguards in leather with Griffin red bat symbol variance along with the blue V of Nightwing and Kon El Shield under it in smaller. Tim frowned at his right forearm. There were two red crosses on the same line – blood red crosses –, above them was one yellow and below a green one. Three death...three death that were from his hands...Stephanie...Darla...death because of him...that goon he never had learned his name... killed by his bare hand and for which no one had ever knew about outside maybe the bats...the last cross, the green one, he couldn't figure out who it was for. Green mean renewal, rebirth...how could this be associated to death? Shrugging the mystery away for later and placing his clothes has to hide has much markings has possible, Tim observed the others.
The only other person with a cape was the Shaman and only one or two of the students along with the apprentices had the long tunic with a few markings here and there. The only one who had more than three designs on its left arm was the shaman that had maybe nine or ten. The other were dressed in plain colour t-shirt and brown leather pants. Their left forearm had, for the most part, some shield that most probably represented their ancestor and more than a few had a white circle around their left wrist... including one of the apprentice. And none of them had weapons.
With a flick of the wrist, Tim made his staff collapse and slipped it in his clothes. He went to sit with the others who were chatting and waited for the shaman to call them to order. But the priest only stayed there, his eyes closed with a peaceful smile and slowly silent felt. Not because of some sign or anything but because behind the Shaman, out of thin air, started appearing animals. Spirits Guides.
When the Shaman opened his eyes, there were thirteen different creatures sited patiently behind him. Including a preening blue, red and gold dragon like being and a black panther who was mischievously looking around for a prank to play. Tim had seen glimpse of the red fox hidden behind the Shaman. He smiled at the awed looking student and the patiently waiting apprentices.
- Congratulation everyone. You made it into the spirit world. Now, even if none of those guardians behind me is yours, you have showed that you possess enough potential to be trained in at least the basic art. But first, let me explain about what you see here and the way you are dressed.
The shaman, whose eyes seemed far away up till now, suddenly became aware of his surrounding and his gaze immediately met the calm blue steady gaze of a cape wrapped young boy. The Shaman, taking in his outfit and the few design he could make out, blinked in surprise but didn't made any comments.
- Now, the shield or drawing all of you have on your left forearm is your blazon, your identification. Those of you that are dressed in tunic have already started seriously studying one art or another. It also mean that at least one teacher has taken you under his tutelage. The marking on your left arms are the courses you are studying.
One of the jock dressed in a tunic showed proudly the drawing that was obviously meant to represent football. The Shaman smiled gently to the well-built student before continuing his speech.
- Some of you wear a red cross on you right forearm. This symbol represents someone who was dear to you and died in circumstances where you feel responsible. That doesn't mean that you are...simply how you feel...I suggest you meditate on those circumstances or try to communicate with his or her spirit when you have the chance.
One or two of the student hang their head, looking pensively at the red cross-itched in their skin. The Shaman had seen a flash of green on the mysterious youth. He showed his own right arms to everyone, revealing a red cross and a green one:
- There are different colour that may appear on your arm...the green one mean that I have already died or been severely injured to protect someone. Is there anyone who has question about his marking?
One of the girl asked about the blazon and it's meaning and another one wanted to know what the white line around her left wrist meant. The Shaman gave her a small smile before doing a brief check of who had and hadn't the white line:
- It defines your purity of body.
A few looked at him in puzzlement until blushes started spreading and some attempted to cover their left wrist. Letting your classmate know you were a virgin wasn't exactly a smart move. Tim didn't have to worry about this part, what he was more worried about was...
- Sir? Why does Tim has a cape like you do and we don't?
- What he was worried about was Bernard curiosity. The Shaman looked at him and gave him an inscrutable look.
- Why do you think you have a cape and the others don't?
- I don't know sir.
He blinked innocently, shifting, apparently nervous. He really didn't know. There were too many possible answers to that question. The Shaman kept staring at him but, used to stare down the Bat, he had no problem to keep the charade of innocent student. The answer from the shaman came soft, like he knew no one would believe him.
- The cape mean that one of your teacher consider you have learned everything he had to teach.
Tim didn't have to fake the shocked expression...at least passed the automatic reflex to keep said expression neutral. One of his teachers? None of his teacher had ever show any indication that he had learned everything from them and he himself never had thought to be a master in any of the art he had studied, be it martial or not. One of the other students snorted sarcastically:
- Wow...a master geek.
- That's not exactly true. It mean one of his teacher considers him strong enough to progress to the master level. Not that he has anything more to learn.
Came a sarcastic voice from behind the Shaman. Everyone turned toward the voice and, out of the mist, came a black haired blue-eyed well-muscled boy of about sixteen years old. He was wearing black boots and pants has well has yellow armguard and nothing else beside a silver loop in his right ear. His hair, cut short, was spiked on his head and his eyes had a deepness to them that belittle his apparent age but it was his body that everyone looked at. His torso and arms were completely covered in scars, some fresh, some old, long and small, clean cut or ragged and scarred over, some still blood red where you could see muscle and bones, others too old to be on such a young boy. The Shaman looked at him and gasped in the suddenly shocked silent:
- By the gods child, who did this to you?
The child in question looked down at himself like he hadn't remarked the atrocity his body was before smirking ironically:
- Trust me old men, you don't want to know how my death happened ... or maybe you would be interested to see how I did die...
- No.
The strong voice came from the opposite direction and everyone turned to stare at Tim who had an unusual hard expression on his face and was glaring at the boy. The mysterious boy smirked and taunted:
- Scared wuss?
One of the students, the same who made the master geek comment, snorted once more and said.
- Course a geek like him would be scare...
While he was talking, showing his own muscle proudly, the mist boy moved forward toward him, petting a dark feline while passing the spirit guides still cluttered behind the Shaman.
- Would YOU like to know?
Asked the ghost with an innocent smile. The Jock had the presence of mind to look at the Shaman to ask for permission first who frowned thoughtfully.
- It is your choice but be warned that gift from spirits are often double-edged sword.
- Don't.
Was the soft strong voiced negation but when the Jock turned to sneer once more to the geek, Tim was looking at the ghost, glaring to be more accurate, and before the mindless student could comment, he felt a strong hand on his head and the voice of the ghost that wasn't reassuring at all:
- Don't worry shrimp.
The others looked on while the Jock suddenly seemed to enter a trance. His face became paler than the ghost and he immediately broke in a sweat all over his body. His hands tried to move but they seemed to be restrained. His mouth opened several time, like a scream wanted to erupt from him but couldn't. Before the Shaman, who was looking worried by the second, could ask the ghost to stop, the mysterious boy stepped back and "big mouth" collapsed in an ungraceful heap, breathing hard and shivering uncontrollably. The ghost took a step back and smirked toward Tim.
- Stop scowling shorty, I stopped after the first time I lost consciousness and I dimmed most of it...nothing worst than a few broken bones...
- ...first time? ...
Asked a groggy voice from the ground.
- Course. You can't die from only a few scratches...took that nut a few days to finish the job...
- Stop it.
Cut an irritated voice. The ghost simply smiled innocently toward Tim who gave him one of the Look. Before the two could start bickering, the shaman voice rose:
- Why are you here troubled spirit?
The "Troubled Spirit " gave him a slightly bemused look before pointing toward Tim.
- I'm here for the shrimp.
- Why would a warrior like you be interested in a geeky freak?
Rasped the still bend over student. In one fast sweep, the warrior swiped the legs from under the young man who crashed hard on the floor.
- It's not nice to bad mouth people. You don't have the right to call him name.
The Jock looked at him in disbelieves from the floor and the ghost smirked in answer. The boy turned toward the Shaman, all sweetness and light again.
- Has for your answer...I'm here to vouch for the geeky freak.
- May I ask what is your connection to him ?
- I'm his older brother.
- You are one of the red crosses...
The Shaman nodded thoughtfully, like he had solved a puzzle but the ghost shook his head:
- Those two are not me...we would need to actually met for that...Speaking of meeting, give Him that and tell Him to stop living in the past...and tell his girl she has my benediction.
And the ghost, a peculiar expression playing on his face, threw his silver earring to Tim. But the throw was off and the boy would need to move one of his hidden arms to catch the jewel. In a split second, Tim made his decision – the one the ghost knew he would do - and his right arm shot out of hiding, catching the silver earring in a precise move before bringing his arm back to the safe shadows of his cape.
But it wasn't fast enough. Wasn't possible to be fast enough to prevent everyone – and particularly the shaman – from seeing the yellow cross over the two reds and the green one. Fortunately, most of the student focused on the green one but the three apprentices and the Shaman expression were comically frozen in shock. The yellow cross, sign that he had killed by choice...a sign that had to be vouched by a death spirit. Tim glared silently to the ghost who bowed low in an ironic answer before turning toward the Shaman.
- Like I was saying, I'm here to vouch for the boy. He's a good guy for a freak. Questions?
- Why is he your brother if you never met?
Asked one of the students, apparently taking the spirit at face value. The dark haired boy turned toward the blonde one who had spoken and was sited beside Tim. The spirit cocked his head to the side and looked at Bernard so intently that the blond started squirming.
- Ask him that after the spirit walks...
The blond snorted, knowing full well that his now even more mysterious friend wouldn't give him a straight answer and evade any question he would ask. The spirit smirked.
- You are a good friend of his...A word of advice than, friend, don't get too close.
- What do you think I have been trying to tell him for years?
Answered the caped young with a slightly annoyed expression. The ghost grinned and suddenly looked in the distance. Has he spoke, his body had been slowly turning into thinner mist.
- Huh oh! Got to go kiddo! Pass Him the message...and next time big bro remembers you're too young tell him about your age difference with your ex, Spike.
- Go to hell.
- Already been there...you want the window seat?
- No thank you...I want to be able to stretch my legs.
- Which legs shorty ?!?
The ghost departure was replaced by a surprised silence. A soft sigh broke it.
- My apologies for my brother behaviour Shaman. He always has been strong headed and impulsive.
- That is not the first time you have met him?
- Not exactly...
The Shaman raised a questioning eyebrow but Tim remained silence. Curious, the leader insisted:
- Where did you met?
- I saw him once or twice when I was in trouble...in my dreams.
- He must have had a great influence in your life than...
- Yes.
Was the simple answer while Tim thought of the almost constant presence of the ghost in their family. Seeing no more development forthcoming of the taciturn young, the shaman went back to his main task. After all, they were here to dispatch spirit guide and while this one was quite intriguing, he would have time later to ask more question. After all, the boy had a spirit give his word that he wasn't evil...although said spirit was disturbingly familiar with violence. Pushing aside the questions in his mind, the Shaman made a move toward the spirits who had been patiently waiting behind him.
- Very well, the spirits will step forward one after the other. If you can tell me his or her name and it agree he is your spirit guide...
But before he could finish, a black panther had moved behind him and pulled playfully on the hood of his cape, wiggling and jumping around like a kitten. The dangerous feline gave a few more playful yip and jumps, the others spirit guide giving him a wide berth, when a dark red creature moved swiftly and butted hard the predator. The black panther rolled with the impact and came up, tongue lolling, welcoming this new playmate. The red fox growled fiercely at the panther and, while it was much smaller than the cat, the fox looked dangerous and seemed to have the playful cat rapidly cowed.
The fox growled once more, obviously not trusting the obedient look of his companion and swatted him. The panther ducked and went to lay further away from the breach in the student's circle, the fox following and cuddling with him. In an intimate gesture, the two licked each other coat for a few seconds before settling down to wait. The Shaman couldn't help noticing how the other spirit guide seemed to be weary and even a bit afraid of the two creatures.
- Well it seem that someone has his soul mate with him or her. Now, which spirit will start?
One after the other, ten spirits guide found their human counterpart, leaving the dragon and the two cuddling felines. The mythical creature moved forward, showing off his wings and impressive stature, sitting regally in the middle of the circle. The Shaman, who had never seen a mythical creature has a spirit guide, nonetheless asked the formal question:
- Does any of you recognise this guide?
The student stayed silent for a few minutes, the creature still preening and showing off his impressive musculature, winking at the prettiest girls and rumbling to some boys. The Shaman was about to ask once more when an amused voice rose from behind him.
- Stop flirting Kin'y, you're already taken.
Everyone turned toward the voice that came from behind the Shaman. A lonely figure, dressed in a black ankle length cape with dark blue itching and face hidden under a large hood stepped out of what looked like a mirror...a mirror that went to a dark city at night.
- Shaman, let go of the students and apprentice...I believe you may want an explanation...
While he spoke, the dragon went to twirl around his leg like a kitten. The large playful panther now sited regally beside the men while the fox remained where he was. The Shaman, obviously not an idiot, immediately released the tread that was connecting the mage wanna be to his spirit world and pushed his student out gently with a small but impressive show of spirit energy. The Shaman turned toward the only person remaining beside him and the stranger. The red fox rose and moved beside the caped youth, purring when the student scratched his head.
- Someone is going to explain why we all ended up represented has cats...
Grumbled the new comer while sitting down. The panther immediately jumped on his lap, both of them rolling playfully on the ground for a few seconds. The dragon settled himself between the two cats. The new comer removed his hood, revealing long dark black hair and deep blue eyes. His expression was has neutral has the remaining student before he smiled gently.
While my brother has mage potential, his talent will be better served elsewhere. This is why I ask you that you do not choose him for apprentice.
- First, who are you?
- I suppose Panther will do for now.
Answer the man with a cocky grin, petting the spirit guy that had his head on his lap and his body sprawled toward the dragon. The feline tail was twitching teasingly and occasionally hitting the winged creature that answered by batting at it like a kitten.
Tim and the Shaman were the last one to pull out of the vision quest. The Shaman looked at the powerful young man in front of him and awe, a sentiment that didn't diminish when he eerily tracked down the dark haired boy waiting silently along the wall of the gym without hesitation. The two smiled at each other softly and Shaman knew that the seemingly dorky teenager with his glasses was the powerful Dragon.
