CasaNova here again, and this time I'm here with the first story of a whole new series: "The Rise And Fall Of". Quite often or not, a TT story on someone's past deals with one of the core Titans, the Titans West and sometimes even the honorary Titans. But what about the villains? Granted, a handful of these guys were just simply born bad, but what about the rest? What life events made it so that he or she choose the path that they did; what went through their heads during certain episodes and seasons in the series; and what did they really think of the Titans (and in some cases, their arch nemesis)? This series will address these questions.

Given the fact that my first fanfiction was about Raven's past story and the events that led up to her final confrontation with Trigon, the first story in this series would be -believe it or not- about Brother Blood. After researching his character from the comic books, Blood surprisingly had some ties to Raven, or rather to her father Trigon, but in the animated series, there is no mention about Blood being affiliated with the return of Trigon. True be told, Blood is portrayed a LOT different than his comic book counterparts (understandable though since TT was geared towards kids and that the story arc for Season 4 was severely watered down), so I hope that this story while splicing together my own take of things with events from both the animated and the comic series does the characters and the story line itself justice.

Ok. Here we go…

CHAPTER 1
The Curse Of Blood

It was a bitter cold day in the country of Zandia, cold enough that there was almost always snow and sleet raining down from the sky, but on this particular day in the small European country, a new precipitation fell forth. Deep within the rugged mountain chain that nearly completely surrounded the landlocked nation, a cloaked figure raced throughout the numerous canyons and chasms, darting here and there to avoid the rain of fire from above. It was a daunting task since the naturally carved pathways were seldom traveled and therefore dangerous, and as one fireball came exceptionally too close for comfort, the person, a man in his mid-thirties cried out as he lost his footing and began to fall. The man reached out in one last desperate attempt to survive and managed to grab hold of the ledge of the canyon wall. He then hung there rather helplessly as fire and ice continued to fall all around him...

'Well, this is certainly a fine kettle of fish, Sebastian,' thought the man sourly. 'You made a pledge to remain neutral when it came to war and now look at you. Dear God if it is in your will, please grant your humble follower a way out of this…'

Sebastian sighed and then closed his eyes, silently hanging in limbo (for lack of a better word) until an opportunity presented itself. It was then when Sebastian also heard a familiar voice in the distance. He turned as best as he could towards the source of the voice, and he noticed that a ways off from him was a small group of foreign soldiers marching along a ledge in the direction of a cave. What was even more interesting was that the men were being led not by a captain native to their land, but by another man in cleric's clothing just like Sebastian's.

'Brother Rasputin?'

Drawing from strength he didn't realize that he still had, Sebastian slowly managed to pull himself back up onto the ledge and slowly walked along it until he was directly above the marching hoard. Once he deemed it safe, he cautiously scaled down the craggy wall and down to the mouth of the cavern where the men disappeared into. As he peered in cautiously, the soldiers – seven of them in total- continued to follow Rasputin deeper into the cave, and when he was sure they were a safe distance away, Sebastian followed suit.

At first glance, the cavern appeared to be of no importance, but as Sebastian traveled onward, he could see that its wall served as a hideaway. But for what? What was done or kept in here that was so important that it need to be hidden in such a remote place? Better yet, what was important enough for a fellow cleric to ally himself with marauding soldiers not native to Zandia – especially when several of these very same men destroyed countless villages and monasteries and killed even more innocent civilians, nuns and monks as an example to anyone who would not join their cause?

"There they are," exclaimed Rasputin as the men entered a vast tomb-like room. "Just where I left them."

Keeping to the shadows, Sebastian hugged the wall as tightly as he could and ducked here and there between and behind several stalagmites. As he came in closer to the small group of men, he could see Rasputin hurriedly walk toward the center of the room and open an ancient chest. Rasputin grinned wickedly as he then slowly took out several ornate chalices.

'Those are the chalices that we used for confirmation!' thought Sebastian. 'I thought they were destroyed or stolen when the invaders looted our monastery...'

Sebastian leaned on one of the stalagmites to listen in and see better, but this also turned out to be his folly since the extra weight up against the stalagmite caused some shards to give way – and give up his position as well. "Jesus, Mary and Joseph," murmured Sebastian as everyone turned to face him. Several of the soldiers were up in a flash and one was ready to pierce Sebastian through and through, but at the very last second, Rasputin called out and held out his hand, stopping the men dead in their tracks.

"Don't touch him," he replied calmly. "And leave us be. I need to speak with an old friend in private."

The soldiers looked on in apprehension, but the look upon their master's face was enough to confirm that they oblige. One by one they marched out of the room, leaving Sebastian to lock eyes with them until he was sure that he was in the clear. "Sebastian," said Rasputin, extending his hands out to coax him out from behinds the rocks. "Brother. It's good to see that you're still alive."

"What's going on here, Rasputin?" demanded Sebastian, rising up from his hiding place. "Why are you with these men? They're the ones that invaded our home despite our pleas to remain neutral during this mockery of a holy crusade. So many men, women and children, and so many of our brothers and sisters lost to this senseless war." He then stopped short of Rasputin, who looked unmoved by his speech.

"…Why are you with these people?"

Rasputin grinned, sending an uncomfortable and weird sensation down Sebastian's spine. "Because we were meant to live for so much more, Sebastian," he finally answered. "We may have devoted our lives to the one true god, but did you ever stop and ask yourself what it would be like to be a god yourself?"

"Rasputin…" replied Sebastian in a warning tone of voice. Rasputin tutted in response to this and then gestured to an elaborately embroidered and fringed violet shawl that was strung around his waist.

"They said that it didn't exist, but now I have proven them wrong!"

"Rasputin…what are you taking about?"

"This! This right here! Whilst roaming these very mountains in exile, I found the legendary prayer shawl of Christ himself! It is surely of otherworldly powers, my brother, for not long after I stumbled across this chest, several of those men found me and attacked. But, listen to this! No matter how often or strongly they stabbed at me, not once did they left a mark! As long as the shawl was on my person, I was protected. It wasn't long afterwards that the men concluded that it would be wise to follow me instead of their captain since I clearly had divine order working on my side."

"Rasputin, Rasputin. This is madness that you speak! Do you not hear yourself? An item such as this has no business among imperfect men like us. I know it to be true because I see the disastrous effect it has on you."

"You speak blasphemy, Sebastian…" said Rasputin, his voice growing dark.

"I speak the truth, brother, and you know it. An item of such immense power is clearly having a bad effect on you, Raz, and definitely not the product of our heavenly Father. Your perspective of what's right and wrong is severely distorted. Think about it: you've stolen sacred items from the church; you're meddling with politics when we made a pledge to remain neutral and to never bear arms, and now you say that you want to be like God himself? That's the talk of the devil coming out of your mouth!"

"Quiet, mortal!"

"I will do no such thing! You need to get rid of that thing before it is too late!"

Rasputin laughed. "I will do no such thing!" he mocked. "It's a shame really though, Sebastian. I was rather fond of you and I was relieved to learn that you weren't killed when the monastery was destroyed. I would've even given you a place at my right hand in my new regime. But no more, brother. Now I need to get rid of you!"

Quick as a flash, Rasputin grabbed hold of Sebastian's throat, startling the priest. The unholy garb apparently not only granted its wearer invulnerability but great strength as well since Rasputin's grip was as strong as a vise. Sebastian groaned and struggled as Rasputin's hand grew tighter around his neck and he slowly began to raise him up into the air. Sebastian then saw a window of opportunity: Rasputin in all of his gloating had forgotten to secure the shawl around him properly, and it was slipping down his waist. The minute it fell to the ground, Sebastian's foot shot out like a rocket, nailing the rebel priest right in the family jewels. Rasputin's voice went up a few octaves as he dropped Sebastian, who tore away with the shawl in tow. Rasputin recovered quickly enough to give chase and snatched up part of the stalagmite that had broken off from earlier. Sebastian quickly and subconsciously fashioned the shawl over his person to keep from tripping over it, and he dodged as the crudely fashioned spear came crashing inches from him into a nearby wall. He then grabbed the head of the stalagmite while Rasputin, still clutching it from the other end, yanked it out of the wall. The battle then turned into a tug-of-war of sorts: Sebastian struggling to get the weapon away from Rasputin, and Rasputin -despite the fact that his enemy was now invincible- valiantly tried to impale him. Suddenly, the scales shifted, and Sebastian eyes widened as he realized that during the scuffle, the stalagmite had lodged itself deep into Rasputin's torso. Rasputin groaned and then gurgled as Sebastian released his grip, allowing the mortally wounded man to stagger off…

"Damn you," he croaked. "Damn you to hell…"

"Raz…"

"A curse…" he moaned, collapsed alongside of the wall. "A curse upon your head, Sebastian Vovk. Just as you had slain me, so will your son. And just as your son will kill you, so will his. Every patriarch in your bloodline from now until the end of time will fall by the hand of his very own son."

Sebastian frowned as Rasputin gurgled once more. He was then overcome by an unfamiliar yet surprisingly welcomed sense of wrath and sulked over to Rasputin.

"It's a shame really though, Rasputin," taunted Sebastian as he loomed over him. "I was rather fond of you and like you, I was relieved to see you weren't killed when the monastery was destroyed, though now I have reason to believe that the destruction of the other churches were at your hand. Even when you wanted to kill me, I only wanted to help save you from yourself. But no more…"

Rasputin's eyes practically bulged out his head as Sebastian shoved the stalagmite deeper into his body. Blood sprayed out from Rasputin's mouth as he cried out. Sebastian continued to thrust and twist the makeshift spear into the fallen cleric until he no longer utter a sound or moved.

"Master!"

"What on God's earth have you done?"

"Get him!"

Sebastian casually glanced over his shoulder to find Rasputin's men steadily closing in on him. "Stop," he ordered coolly, and almost immediately, the men stopped in place.

"Yes, my liege," the men answered in monotone unison. Sebastian smiled as he played with the fringe of the shawl.

'Interesting', he laughed to himself. 'It seems that when I killed Rasputin, his hold over these men was transferred over to me. Such power I think… I think that I could get used to this…'

"Very good, my loyal followers," Sebastian then voiced out loud. "Very good. If you stay truthful and loyal to me, many good things are sure to come your way."

"And what name are we to address you by, Master?" asked one of the men.

Sebastian smiled almost catlike, and rubbed the tips of his fingers (which were now coated with Rasputin's blood) together.

"…Brother Blood," he stated plainly. "Simply Brother Blood."