Well howdy folks! Been awhile, a very long while. So sorry about all this taking so long but I just didn't know what I wanted to write. (To be honest I'm still not really sure.) To make up for it I might try to make a little present chapter. (read as smuff)
Yes so, yeah. Alright. I have one more exam, and two more classes left! So I get to work on this during the Summer I suppose.
Woot
It was bloody typical.
Of all the realms, pocket dimensions, alternate universes, and sweet shops behind the veil Wally ended up in the one place Klarion always avoided, Fate's Library. Nothing but books on goody two-shoes and how to be a party pooper, it was sickening. There weren't even any cool goodies to snag while he was here. How the hell Wally managed to get from the speed verse to here was unfathomable, and quite irritating.
Crawling along the floor on his knees and cursing all the while (his magic was glitchy in here) he made his way down yet another row of books, "Justice,...Order,...Necromancy,..." Klarion paused in his crawling and shuffled backwards reaching for the title that drew his eye. "Necromancy?" Upon closer inspection it read A Night's Romance. Klarion slid the book back into its place using the majority of his processing power to not think about what just happened.
Instead he sat up and pressed his slender back against the spines of the massive book collection. This was taking forever, it might be time to re-strategize. "Teekl! Have you found anything yet?" Klarion sent out the thought in his familiar's general direction. A negatory mewl called back.
This news made him slump, sitting in a library was not his idea of fun. "Keep looking then." He snapped. Klarion could almost hear the indignant huff of his cat, but perhaps that's because it came from inside his head, or not, he was to bored to care.
He pulled a magnificent volume from behind him, it was heavy and bordered with what he expected to be real gold trimming. With a marker he plucked from the air (actually it was from the hands of Billy Batson, who was about to solve a math problem on the board and got a weeks detention for fooling around) he poised his hand above the cover ready to sign his name on Fate's precious books when the large doors of the library slammed open.
With panic in his movement Klarion slammed the book back into its designated slot, and then as an after thought removed it again and switched it's place with another book. Klarion held back a snicker, then he remembered why he should be moving and shuffled into a prime out looking position.
Looking through the bars of the railing near him he peered down at the first floor of the library. It was impressive, the doors were giants made of rich wood with deep intricate engravings, the staircase that connected the floors was a majestic royal red with railings of shining brass, the ceilings dipped upwards so high you could hardly make out any details but the lights hung at just the right level to provide an eerie feel with optimum reading lighting. Besides the space used for one long table the entire room was occupied with books, aisles stretched out in all directions for ages, all orderly and in pristine condition. Any Scholar's heart would have wet themselves with literacy passion.
Admist this impressive room was one , now Klarion wasn't looking for a fight, especially since the oh so touching display of fatherly love that gave Fate a tall order of mystically inclined. A tactical retreat might be in order, at least until the fuddy left.
A sharp pain ran up his side clouding over his thinking. A single mewl could be heard from below and Klarion cursed yet again.
"Alright, alright!" Klarion stood, displaying his hands towards Fate. "What's with you and picking on poor little kitties anyway." He slid down the railings to the first floor trying to be the picture of non-chalent malevolent sorcery that just happened to be doing some friendly book keeping.
"Klarion." Fate greeted him as one would greet the first bug of Summer, with mingled resignation and annoyance. "Explain yourself."
"You wouldn't believe me if I-" Klarion's sentence cut off as the form of a particular Ginger flickered from the seat at the large table. Klarion sent a rather rude mental message to his cat about checking the obvious places first, and why would I check there I thought you checked there.
"Why," Fate pondered narrowing his borrowed eyes, "Would you be checking my table for something?"
"Aren't good guys not allowed to eavesdrop?" Klarion sneered, "If you must know, I lost something and I have reason to believe to ended up here."
"Your reason to believe being?"
"Call it Chaos theory." Klarion said with a sly grin.
"Humorous." Fate remarked without a shred of humour.
"Very. Now if you hand over my cat, I'll grab the thing and be out of your hair, er helmet." Klarion pitched this rather distractedly keeping his eyes on the table.
"Give me reason not to just banish the cat into another dimension." said Fate.
"I'll be back tomorrow, and don't think your cute little wards will keep me out again they never do." Klarion ended this with a small curled smile that might have been pushing it. In fact it was.
"Correct the misplacement of books in the upper wing and you can have your wish." Fate replied, and there may even have been an undertone of humour.
"That could take me hours to find again!" Klarion Squawked.
"In fact it could take you years." said Fate and there was absolutely a smirk in his tone.
Fortunately for the Witch Boy it only took him ten hours to relocate the books he had switched around. Without the use of a location spell, (Fate made all his attempts lead him to Ethical Uses of Magic) the shifting seemingly infinite library proved a formidable foe. Many years later Klarion still dreamed of the endless aisles and the uncrackable dewey decimal system. Late into his 9th hour he found the gold trimmed book, and it wasn't fifteen minutes later he found the second one.
When he was finished he climbed back down to the second floor, even using the stairs this time. With a pat of his pocket he reassured himself he had what he needed. And then he approached Fate's Table.
"Very good Klarion, you restored some order today." Fate greeted him.
"Please, I'll be sick." Klarion moaned. Teekl slipped from Fate and wound around Klarion's shoulders pressing its dry noise to his cheek. "Was he mean to you Teekl? Don't worry we'll make him pay for it later."
Klarion plucked a stone from his pocket and placed it on the table.
Fate lowered the book he was holding to look at it, "What are you doing precisely?"
Instead of answering the WitchBoy started muttering an incantation under his breath. The stone glowed a bright orange colour before shifting to yellow then white.
A small shimmer shook the air around the unoccupied chair, it seemed to tear and fold in on itself before a faint whistle of air was heard and suddenly a bright haired, wide eyed Speedster sat in the previously empty chair, gasping lungfuls of air.
"I'm breathing, in and out, lung expansion and everything!" Wally exclaimed, his hands touched his chest and face as if he couldn't believe he was solid. Then he ran his fingers across the table like a child finding a new texture, excitement etched into his features.
Fate stood from the table, "Klarion what is the meaning of this?" His golden light shimmered but he didn't appear to know what to cast.
Wally blinked a few times looking between the two opposites, "Why am I in a Library?"
The statement grabbed Klarions attention, and he refocused on the bright boy. Something similar to a grin appeared on his face as he grabbed a fistful of Wally's shirt. Then the two of them were gone.
One dark haired boy sits in a badly lit room. He has a knee drawn up to his chest to rest his chin on and eyes dead set on the illuminated screen in front of him. The light from it sprawls across the planes of his face, reflecting into his blue eyes. Currently that boy was searching through recent police files. Ones that wouldn't necessarily be available to the general public of Bludhaven.
It was a quiet night, Dick Grayson had already put on his suit and was waiting for action. He was restless, something was happening he could almost feel it- it was so tangible. Even calling Bruce had occurred to him. He felt compelled to remain where he was but he ached to go on patrol. Just when he thought he might make the call a message appeared on his screen.
It was from Drake.
We found him. Sending the plane for you. - R