Hello this is the Magician Joseph, I know it is annoying for the author to put notes at the beginning of a story, but I feel like I have no choice. First off please excuse the roughness of the story I am very tired yet eager to post it. I would state that this may be my last fan fiction due to the fact that as a seventeen year old I feel a tad bit too old for things that aren't my own.
Secondly I would ask that if you do read my other stories that you take them as nothing, for they are old and very poorly written. My main focus is my fictionpress account under the same name; I would be over joyed if you paid that one a visit.
Thirdly enjoy.
The night is dark, and cold, grief has fallen over the Titan's Tower like a conceivable blanket, like a mother of despair cradling her stillborn child in heavy arms weighed down by the heart. The teenage prodigy, the moral superman, the boy wonder Robin is dead he had been sent off with a heroes farewell, killed in the line of duty, killed fighting for those he loved. The months had gone by and the terror and starkness of death had not left any of the Titan's hearts, melancholy was the spirit of the year, grief eternal and binding.
The man of self improvement, who had transcended humanity through self discipline, the man who ran with the best through sheer determination had done the impossible and died, they had always known it was risky, but it had always seemed as if their team would never break.
The funeral had been equal to Hercules' in splendor, the grass has been green, the earth had been soft as it accepted one of its few remaining defenders into its womb of soil, mourners had come form far and wide, bringing wreathes of decadent flowers, thank you notes. A purple heart had been awarded to him post mortem; it had been placed on the breast of his uniform under the R insignia he wore. Tears, and good memories had fueled that day, the day the whole world had given out for the team of Titans, the defenders of Jump City the Teen Titans, they now had no leader.
Now months later the Titans Tower was as silent as the grave that Robin now inhabits, the steel walls no longer echo laughter, nor arguing, just every so often a heart broken sigh. The place that was once a home is now like Limbo, nothing but sighs and the suffering of loneliness. In the housing area of the Tower, in her dark room, Raven finds no solace in sleep, no temporary respite from her crushing grief; she looks at the walls the walls look back, she looks at her bed her bed looks back it invites her to rest, but she has to politely decline. She looks at her floor; there are broken bits of statuary, loose pieces of stationary, because of the powers of her heritage the demon blood coursing through her veins whenever she weeps things fly from shelves, things break. But she cares not for her broken possessions, her personal mourning is all she can feel it drives her day, holds her in its bondage of memories, like chains, ties that bind the soul to suffering.
Raven sits cross legged on the floor, she is fighting for balance if she lets her emotions take control she could cause great harm. She looks at a pedestal in her room, it once housed a comedy and tragedy mask, but comedy had fallen off and shattered on the floor giving tragedy full reign. Raven had always felt that people come and people go, but she never truly believed that she would lose one of her close teammates. When she had been a stronger person she had believed that loss was merely the part of passing from one phase of life to the other, but now she was no longer strong enough to believe that. She thinks 'give me those who are broken, I want them back thank you very much, I want all that I've loved back, I can't stand to lose it anymore.' But her thought is given no heed by the mechanics of the universe, all the laws of the past and present hold still, Robin does not rise from the grave, no warmth enters the coldness of her body.
Raven focuses on her breathing, concentrating on bringing O2 into her body and expelling Carbon, she pictures the air passing throughout her blood stream like a force. She tries to breath through the fog of heartbreak around her; she begins with breathing in with the new out with the old. In with the helpful out with the harmful, not good and bad to divide the neutral agents of existence into good and bad was narrow minded, simply in with the useful out with the useless. She begins chanting her mantra, something from her home planet a meditation device.
"Azaroth, metrion, zinthos."
She continues chanting, and works her conscious awareness down to her muscles starting with her feet, willing her body to circulate lactic acid buildup in her muscles throughout her blood stream, relieving stress, maintain balance, regain function. Now she focus's on the muscles in her lower leg, as she is furthering the circulation in her Gastrocnemius muscles she thinks about how the humans had named those muscles to mean the fat twins, the thought that should have had humor in it, brought none. Instead she simply works her way up her body concentrating on, and relaxing various muscle groups as she had been taught.
"Azaroth, metrion, zinthos."
Next comes metabolism she focus' on metabolism, meditating on the various chemicals and how her brain releases them, making sure not to allow too much adrenaline into her body, making sure not to throw her body into a panic.
"Azaroth, metrion, zinthos."
Blackness encompasses her vision, as she attains higher levels of consciousness, fading into the world of her mind; deeper, deeper into herself her psyche falls. Her meditation does not lead to an inner center though; she finds herself in blackness, the void all around her. Void, yawning abyss, nil, nothing, she waits a moment, breathe caught in lungs, no peace here. Here she must confront herself, in the yawning abyss she can only see herself and her grief, that is all she has to be with herself now, no forgetting, only confrontation. The conflict of oneself, how beautiful, the cause of this disruption of balance is obvious, the loss of Robin, the loss of a teammate. She wants him back, they all want him back, the team, what is loss?
'Loss is the constant of life' she thinks, 'loss and suffering', from birth to death there is only more heartbreak a fundamental principal she knew very well. Life is constantly trying to fight against the yawning abyss, to put one self in a false reality that is fabricated to keep one from falling into despair. The death of a loved one simply is a reminder of the power of Oblivion. Raven knows that she is at a unhealthy state, no longer being emotionally neutral as a carbon based form in the universe, which puts her powers at an opportunity to overwhelm her. She can't help it though, she wants him back, she wants her mother back, and she wants all those that are lost to her back. She wants beautiful days that will never be rivaled back; she wants innocence and purity back.
She realizes that nothing means everything, and everything plays into nothing, she barrels through the boundaries of semantics, and morals, attaining a thought process that leaps into the end, she was at the end, but the end was not of her yet, the end was nothing. Nothing touches her, it is cold, it purrs in her ear yet makes no sound.
The big proverbial darkness around all creations both material, and spiritual the fear of loss of human spirit, the risk of losing one self, Oblivion, it hisses all around her. She needed to keep fighting though, fortify her defenses against it, build a memorial to Robin inside her heart yet remain balanced not allow him to overwhelm her. She needs to continue onto the regular pathway of life, until she can find truth beyond nothing.
She pushes herself down into regular level of consciousness, shutting doorways of perception, trains of thought, she leaves them behind, she will never sing a happy song, she will never live a happy life. She passes by all that she was, all the different nows, all the love she had almost felt. Life is loss, and loss is the end of life, ashes to ashes, dust to dust, pain to pain, nothing to nothing, yet she must fight against it. Put up a proverbial light in the dark place; bring up the power of the living soul to help establish a beautiful collective reality.
When Raven is back to basic waking state she stands up, finding minor comfort in the thought of conflicting Oblivion of getting back to life, maybe getting a hobby. Mourning may continue, but so must growth. She walks to her bed; she lies down her lithe body finds comfort in the cool familiarity of it, all that she has ever loved she wants back, she can get none of it, she gets sleep instead. Sleep is like a bullet.
The next morning when Raven wakes up she goes to breakfast, her teammates, the Teen Titans are there also. The air of oppression of loss still hangs over them. They eat only from routine not from desire to be nourished. Raven sits down in a chair, she loves them all, and the relations between them are the ties that bind them together, metaphysical strings, ropes to hold down collective reality against Oblivion.
"He would've wanted us to move on team." Raven states, "Never forget, but we got to keep fighting. Everyone always needs to keep fighting that is how Robin was, a fighter, let us revel in the glory of his tragically short life."
Good bye friends.