Raven had disappeared. At first, no one had noticed.
It was unusual, perhaps, for the empath to not greet Richard as he strolled in for morning coffee at his routine 6:30 am, but the Azarathian was understandably the most introverted of the superhero group - she occasionally preferred to take her tea into her room and preserve her energy for the day.
Nightwing had noted the completely cool water in the kettle. Like him, Raven never slept in and preferred a hot drink after waking up, so he considered the potential that she had slept restlessly and woke early, then assumed further that she was most likely meditating now to gain a little energy and calm after the probably Trigon-related nightmare. He couldn't feel anything alarming from their shared bond, so he decreed it was fine to leave her alone to regain herself but to check up on her tonight if she hadn't shown her face.
It was also unusual for her to not respond at all to the loud requests of Koriand'r for them to do the most recent of sisterly rituals the alien had found, but after knocking so hard the door dented, she assumed Raven to be elsewhere. With a pat and an apology for the door, and plans to ask again tomorrow, Koriand'r flew off.
It was not unusual at all for her to utterly ignore changeling's presence, only a coin toss between that and yelling at the green metamorph to keep it down. Sometimes a literal coin toss with the penny given to her from the man himself from that fateful birthday all those years ago. That always put a slight smile on his face, when he saw her messing with it.
But regardless; no one noticed her absence and it was only when the Titans alarm went off did the first spark of worry flitter in the stomachs of the young heroes.
When the seconds started to drag as the four waited on edge for their fifth, Nightwing's lips tightened as he finished calculating the best path forward. changeling exclaimed about Raven's tardiness, and how she now couldn't say that to him; Starfire, a tad more concerned, mentioned 'doing the check up' on their cloaked Titan - at that, Nightwing nodded at the so far quiet Cyborg.
"Cy, see what's up. We'll call if we need you. Titans, let's go." And in less than a minute, they were on their way; Nightwing in Starfire's arms with Changeling as a sharp winged seabird flying alongside them, as they headed to the just out of view incident on the Jump City port.
v
The steel door was cold as Victor rapped on Raven's door, sighing at the Starfire-evident dent and putting it on his long to-do list.
"Raven?" he called, tentatively. With the echoing silence, he moved over to the control panel on the side. "Yo Rave, say something if you don't want me coming in -" Again, silence. The Titan's residential tech expert overrode the doors lock and with an almost inaudible hiss, it opened.
Nightwing would probably be able to extract the more intimate details when he returned, but Victor didn't need more than a seconds glance into the dark room before heading down to the Titans Tower Security Control with a quick, hurried pace. The room, belonging to Raven, was itself as much of a mystery as its owner was - strange and dramatic items of various historical and magical importance emerged from the gloom, while the sensation of being watched emanated from the dark corners. Even the new addition didn't take Victor too much by surprise - chalk interlocking circles surrounded by books with long shadows and many burnt out candles, the wax dripped and dried into a dark and tattered, crimson carpet. It was the abandoned cloak that belonged to the reclusive Raven that alarmed the cyborg, Raven whom was still oft too shy to even go without said cloak within the secured walls of the Tower, violently torn to shreds.
The CCTV cameras showed nothing, as Cyborg watched intently at one of the screens while dusk fell outside. The demi-demon had prepared the ritual the previous night, painstakingly drawing perfect circles and paying meticulous attention to the placing of the candles. She had hovered with a weathered book by her side that she checked upon, making sure everything was precise and undisturbed. While Raven wasn't the type to be messy, the level of detail she put into her work was extraordinary, and the focus in her eyes was of one doing something with extreme personal importance. Cyborg, tapping fast forward over the hour of preparation, wondered what had prompted this. The earlier day, what had happened? Nothing of any great importance - they had all gone out together as friends; for once, they had all found the time and motivation to enjoy themselves, and it went uninterrupted from any villain. Did something happen Victor was unaware of?
As Raven had sat down within the chalk sketches, things were once again still for a while. If it wasn't for the situation, Cyborg would have thought she was meditating as usual, floating in lotus position with slow and paced breaths. She wasn't chanting her mantra; at least, not until almost exactly ten minutes in as she started to with a whisper. Almost instantly her hair drifted on a sudden breeze, the first 'Zinthos' prompting the room to flash from an unknown light source. The movement of her hair and cloak with the now more gentle flashes of light - perhaps synced to the empaths breathing - created an ambient atmosphere that seemed almost benign, serene.
Then things started to go wrong, as they usually do. Ravens chant faltered as she jerked forwards, falling out of position as she gasped. The breeze became a wind, which became a gust that whipped around the woman while leaving everything outside the circles untouched. She seemed to fight, pushing a foot downwards as if to strike it against the chalk. She jerked again, this time seemingly in pain, falling into a ball higher into the air. Cyborg was astounded, underneath the overwhelming concern and fierce attention, that no one had heard what must have been a racket. Had Raven not called for help?
The demoness may not have made a sound, but her unleashed emotions must have - cracking a stone statue in half in a whip of black magic with white aura. It next tore through the circle to no effect as once again Raven flinched, her grimace hidden behind her knees and strands of violet hair. But after the statue, then the ripped carpet, came the camera. A flicker of black consuming the screen before static as the computer gained no input from the undeniably mutilated camera.
So maybe the cameras showed Something, but it wasn't anything too hopeful. It didn't show what happened afterwards, and more importantly, it didn't show where Raven went or how she was. Was she still in pain? Was she safe? No, the cameras did not show that.
Cyborg started a few processes, such as setting an alert for any news of the grey-skinned titan from internet social media to police scanners, before leaning into his cold metallic hands as he uttered a meaningless tone of worry, exhaustion and apprehension. It was going to be a long night.
v
She drew a harsh breath, and cried out as it triggered a wave of pain from what seemed to be her entire respiratory system. Her cry caused another wave, scraping down from her mouth and jerking at her chest, and the following sob at the suffering came yet another. The musky, yet aromatic, air felt like sand against a raw throat and aching lungs. As she drew from her teaching her breathing rate calmed into a steady pattern, moving through the pain and drawing mentally into herself as she attempted to take stock of the situation.
Her position was a tense huddle, arms grasping around her head, kneeling, forehead touching the floor and her hair a curtain around her. She twitched her fingers, and only her strict control prevented a groan as she swore she felt every muscle cry out in pain, her very bones moaning in protest at the movement. As she twitched, gathered herself, she figured it was the same for all of her anatomy. It was not excruciating, but it was more than a simple ache; as if she had run a marathon, then hiked up Everest, than swam up some rapids, then was crushed by one of her bookcases. Actually, she reconsidered, it was excruciating. She rolled her eyes at the discomfort within her eye sockets and licked her dry lips for relief to no avail. She was starving, yet her stomach rolled in nausea, but it paled in comparison at the lightning that rolled down her spine as she tried to uncurl and lift her head.
She came further into lucidity, and the pain seemed to dull as adrenaline started to rush. Where was she? What caused this? She opened her eyes to darkness and she could feel her struggle to focus. She tried to croak out a word but winced violently before she could start. Shaking, she pushed through the agony, to look around, and the darkness started to fade slightly. Balls of light came into being, fluttering like fairies through her hair, until her sight gained clarity and they became candles. She documented fabric weaving around her body, capturing her sore limbs as she finally managed to relax an arm - pins and needles the next torment.
Oh Azar, she was frightened.
Her situation was dire - cataloguing the unknown and looming monuments around her, she must have been captured by a cult. Shame washed through her; she might have even been summoned, her demonic blood as much a magical item as it was necessary for her survival. She moved her other arm, her right one, as it shook and clumsily scraped against soft, powdered flooring. She had hardly seen anything in this room before, all of it new and unfamiliar and terrifying. She pushed down her fear as she felt a stirring of some sort in her mind. She was confused; her mind still didn't feel as lucid as it should, but she knew one thing. She needed to get away, and fast. Whoever had set this up was no longer here for whatever reason, but she needed to go before they came back; no one who associated themselves with the magic the girl sensed in the air could be good news. It crept up her arms as goosebumps and an almost homely chill, and she closed her eyes and wished to go home, before falling into the embrace of the concentrated shadows.
v
It had been a mistake not to test the limits of the vague link between Richard's and Raven's bond - and as Victor informed him of the situation the boy wonder hoped it wouldn't be this slip up that prevented them from recovering Raven. He also knew very little about magic or old languages; those were Raven's speciality and he couldn't make heads or tails of the book she had been attentively reading from before her disappearance. He knew there were options; other mystic and multilingual allies he could ask - but the idea of running for help without even attempting to solve this himself wouldn't do for the prideful hero. They had a reputation to keep, and more importantly, they were Raven's family - it was up to them first and foremost to get her home safe.
The family sat around a meeting table, and the gap where the empath would sit forced a sombre atmosphere upon them. The seriousness now weighed on Garfield, trying to keep neutral while staring blankly into space where Raven should be. Koriand'r, more expressively, looked towards their leader; the warrior bit at her fingers, hoping the blank-faced Nightwing would have an idea to save the day.
Victor caught the green eyes of Garfield across the table before glancing towards the woman that sat next to the changeling, who understood and then put on a smile and nudged her.
"Hey don't worry Star, this is Raven we're talking about! Remember last week when she threw me across the city?" He rubbed at his shoulder where the empath had grabbed him- admittedly she had healed him afterwards but he swore it was still sore. "She'll be fiiine."
"To be fair, B'" Victor interjected, "you did spill her tea over her, right after she told you to stop messin' around."
"Well it was your fault too, you wouldn't give me back my tofu!" Victor ignored this.
"Then, you cracked a joke about her still looking better than she did in that time in the sewers!" Richard, becoming less controlling with the years spent in their company, saw the reason behind their banter - Kori smiled slightly and the tension was relieved. He brought the conversation back to the topic.
"So we can guess what happened: a spell went wrong. She's no longer here, and she's not dead - her and my bond hasn't snapped, but she's too far away to use it to help us - but with her costume ripped as it was, she may be injured. If no one has any more to add, we can look over the city and see if we can locate her."
"But Richard," Koriand'r started solemnly, "what if she's not in the city?"
"If that's the case, then we go for help. But from what I've seen, longer distances mean more energy - so it's likely at this point, she still is." he stood up. "Alright, no more questions? Let's search Titans, and bring Raven back safe."
v
Something at the back of her mind niggled at the unfamiliar familiarity of her powers, but with the way her body ached and the fear of the unknown kidnappers nipping at her heels, she was too busy trying to keep calm and get away to focus on anything else. Her leotard was different, hugely oversized; she cut the bottom of it with a black flash, and wore it as a dress.
She had come out of the shadows in a dank alleyway, black rubbish bags built up in the corners and an angry voice shrieking behind one of the walls, accompanied with the occasional sob. The emotions all around violated her mind; she was used only to the serenity of the few she lived with, their minds being something akin to steady ponds with the barest of emotions rippling the surface.
Here, it was like a turbulent ocean. Many rapids and currents tore against each other, a storm up ahead growling with bullet rain, yet barely making a mark on the already choppy waters. She felt like she was drowning and she could only start to silently sob herself, soaking up the trauma.
The bin bags across the airway split open, their contents too exploding and rattling across the pebbled floor. The shouting stopped.
A side door rattled on rusty hinges as a key was inserted and turned roughly. As it creaked open harsh yellow light lit up the tight pathway, highlighting the girl as she stared upwards at a haggard woman. They locked eyes for a few seconds.
"What do you want? Get out of here!" and the girl gasped, but looked through the woman's legs into what appeared to be a cupboard-sized kitchen - someone barely older than herself looked at her from the floor, face tear stained.
"Does, does she need help?" She tried, but when the scowling woman stepped forward with a raised backhand, she fled, hating herself for it. What could she do? The negativity in that room barely measured to the abject negativity that attacked her from all corners. She had to get away, before she started to hurt others. She had to find Azar.
She didn't know that as she ran away, tripping over the overflow of garbage and cutting her feet on shattered glass - feeling once again she was a bane on everyone's existence - she revealed something shiny within the waste. The mother watched the child run away, all silence and squinted eyes, before she saw the ring that her own child had lost. She picked it up with a groan as her joints popped, before going back inside. Now that it seemed she wouldn't have to sleep outside as the argument was over, the daughter wiped her eyes and sighed in relief.
v
Changeling caught her scent, the mixture of pheromones and incense that was distinctly musky yet sweet. He alerted the other Titans, but continued to follow the trail without them as to not risk losing her. He smelled her distress and his bloodhound gait quickened into a run. He found it pooled in between apartments and skulked behind tiny gardens and their excessive fences, and - his worry spiking - under a car at one point. It didn't make any sense at all. It steadily became infused with the rich iron of blood, the toxic city oils and waste, with odd new pheromones as if she accompanied by someone - and as the moon towered in the light-polluted orange sky, the worry sickened Changeling to his stomach.
It was well known that the unknown that was the ultimate fear, and there were many unknowns here - what was wrong? What state was she in? Who was she with? Why was she so utterly terrified? What hurt her? Five minutes in, all the Titans had eventually found their way back to the green dog, and followed in strange silence. They didn't bother to hide, in the cover of night the only people still out kept their heads down.
It finally came to end as they stood outside a church - before Garfield led them then to the right after sneezing away thick scent of dust and dirt. He morphed back into a human.
"She's here," he whispered, moving silently towards the churches surrounding bushes and trees. And where a bush met a tree, he pulled the coarse and thorny foliage to be confronted with a young child. Nestled up among roots and weeds was Raven, young and wide-eyed, looking upwards with a raw and unidentifiable expression.
Etude 3 - Nadia Sirota · Death Valley - René Aubry
A/N - hey! just writing this for fun, and to practice at gathering an atmosphere, so don't expect anything too extravagant. hurt/comfort at it's worst, but also quite a bit of fluff, yknow? chap titles are just what i was listening to each chap to get in the mood. title comes from Under Giant Trees, by Agnes Obel. see ya whenever
bird x
ps: robin - nightwing, beast boy - changeling (just in case you didn't know). this is placed quite some years in the future, and they're just the Titans now.