"There's nothing more we can do for her. The power of Trigon is just too strong."
The monks of Azarath stood despondent around the levitating body of a young girl. Ever since she had been born to a fanatical mother who had been brought to this place, their priestly work had seemed rather easy. Casting spells on her body, infusing her soul with white magic inspired by their pacifism.
But then she reached that age where a child's conscience begins to develop, and that's when her demonic father began to take hold of her. Every spell, incantation, and decree by the greatest monks of Azarath couldn't stand a chance, and the most they could do was keep her body and soul and stasis, trapped in a transformation into an image of her father.
The head priest Azar turned to face their visitor, dressed in shining yellow armor that enclosed his whole body save for the two massive bird wings that extended from his back. "What do you propose we do, Zauriel? After all, you are the one who brought this unholy monstrosity to us."
The demoted angel flew down to face the daughter of the woman he had loved, the daughter of the woman he had failed to protect, and the being whose corrupted soul he had been tasked with cleansing. He stretched out his head and touched her chakra, removing something from her body with a bright yellowish glow.
"If her father wishes to corrupt her demonic side, then we must uplift her human side," he theorized. "I will scan the world for the most morally uplifting human and links their souls together. His or her thoughts will be a counterbalance to Trigon, and this nightmare before us just might turn out to be the savior of all worlds everywhere."
/
The first emotions that Rachel Roth ever felt were not her own. They were from a certain Richard Grayson, a young boy who was a happy circus acrobat alongside his loving parents. Their life was hard and tiring, but never unhappy. Between the joy they gave to their audiences and the love between them, it was a truly joyous life.
Then Rachel woke up. While the feelings of Richard Grayson were still worth her, she was now in her own body, in her own world. A world that showed no love for her at all.
The woman that claimed to be her mother, Arella, was nothing like Richard's mother. She had no warmth or tenderness coming from her at all. In fact, it was the opposite – regret and bitterness. Rachel wasn't troubled by this, but rather confused.
Later that day, she met Azar, head priest of Azarath. Straight up front, he told Rachel that she was evil, and they needed to correct that. But Rachel had no idea what he meant, nor did she understand the new emotions coming from him. Emotions that were nothing like what the Graysons had for each other.
/
Richard saw his parents murdered before his very eyes, and Rachel was right there in his mind's eye.
She felt so many new emotions from him – anger, sorrow, fear – all of which her mother and teacher had shown to her. She knew has feelings, but still couldn't understand why he would feel that way.
But, what did that make of her? What did she do to make them all resent her so much?
"You exist," Azar told her. "You were created by evil to be evil."
"But can I be good? Can I ever be loved like how Richard was?"
"No. You can stop the evil within you from coming out, and that's what my goal with you is. But to do so, your emotions must be completely suppressed. For that, you must understand this – you will never feel what Richard Grayson felt. You will never be good, and you will never be loved."
Suddenly, Rachel felt a new feeling come over her. The first real emotion she had ever produced. A feeling of pure hatred, directed completely at herself.
She was evil, she was worthless, and that would never change.
/
Rachel now felt a strong connection with Richard. Both now spent their days sulking quietly in their big, dark homes. But more importantly, they were now both victims of self-loathing – Rachel for being evil, and Richard for believing that he could have stopped his parents' murder. Both were unhappy, and neither had any real desire to be happy.
But Richard had two new people in his life – Bruce and Alfred. Both of them were more than willing to console the young orphan, especially since Bruce had experienced the exact same tragedy.
Through his words of encouragement, Bruce slowly helped Richard realize that things will get better. It gave him a feeling of hope that Rachel shared, but she knew that she could never have it in her world.
As sad as Richard's life was now, at least he had the hope to move on. And Rachel kept watching him because she truly felt that she wanted him to be happy again.
/
Mr. Wayne had Richard continuously train in gymnastics and martial arts, and in the process learned a great deal of self-discipline, which then passed on into Rachel's mind as well. Before, she had trouble controlling her feelings of self-loathing, and they would manifest in a darkened sphere that repelled everything around her. But now, she could keep those feelings within herself, and could walk throughout Azarath without worrying about hurting anyone. Not that anyone wanted to come near her to begin with.
Then the day came when Mr. Wayne decided that Richard was ready for something, and Rachel was honestly more excited than he was. The excitement only grew as Bruce opened up a secret passage and led him down beneath Wayne Manor, revealing the Batcave.
"Wait, so you're … Batman?" Richard and Rachel both exclaimed at once.
"Yes, and I want you to join me. Become my apprentice, and I will teach you how to be a force for justice; to fight for good in a city writhe with chaos; to bring hope to a city that believes good people have failed them, like how I failed you."
Rachel felt that a massive load had been lifted off her soul. To stop being evil was one thing, but to actually be good? Could these mere humans do what the wise priests of Azarath could not?
But Batman's words gave her something she had never gotten before – love. Through her connection to Richard's mind, she felt loved as a human being, being treated as a proper child and a student, something that her own mother and teachers had not even bothered to attempt. She wanted what Bruce and Richard had; she wanted to be loved; she wanted to be good.
Without, Richard placed his hand atop his mentor's, and Rachel did likewise. All three recited a pledge of undying loyalty.
"...and swear that we will fight together against crime and corruption and never to swerve from the path of righteousness."
/
Rachel continued to excel in her occult studies to the point that magic became a bore for her. At the end of each day, she eagerly anticipated going to bed, sometimes using a spell to put herself to sleep. Her mother continued to show her no sympathy and no interest, which was fitting as Rachel had long forgotten her desire for either.
Before going to sleep, Rachel got out of her Azarathean child-priest robes and put on her sleeping costume – a superhero outfit that she had designed so that she could fit in with the Dynamic Duo. This costume was very much inspired by Batman – a black leotard that tightly clung onto her skin, a belt of jewels around her waist, a long dark blue cape that turned into a hood (covering the top half of her face in shadow, showing only her eyes and mouth) and a badge showing the symbol of the heroic name she had given to herself.
/
Rachel woke up to another day, disappointed that she was back in her own reality. But that day turned out to be different.
During lunch break, Rachel went outside the temple with the other children, but they all avoided her as they sensed her demonic side. By now, she didn't mind. She preferred sulking in the shadows, like her heroes, and looked out for crime just like they did.
Today, she saw one. A young boy had stolen a scarf from a market stand. Rachel magically transformed into her nighttime clothes and followed him through the shadows. He stopped in an alley, to take out some matches to set the scarf on fire. But each match was instantly put out.
Then Rachel levitated all the matches around in a circle and allowed them to combust, the ashes falling into her hands that slowly appeared out of the air, followed by the rest of her grim figure.
"Don't you know it's wrong to steal?"
/
Azar was not happy at all.
"The boy who ran screaming into the marketplace, confessed to stealing a scarf and crying about a shadowy monster … that was you?"
"Yes. I was trying to teach him not to steal."
"Well, you succeeded. You also scarred his mind down to the core."
"I didn't mean to. I wanted to help heal him, but everyone told me to get back."
"And you're surprised by that?"
"No."
"Then why did you do this?"
"Because stopping a crime is the right thing to do."
"Are you serious? What you have done goes completely against the Azarathean code of pacifism!"
"I didn't inflict any physical violence."
"Mental violence is still violence."
"Maybe violence can be good."
Azar's eyebrows squinted in anger. "You dare blaspheme in these holy walls?"
Rachel started to let her anger show as well, as black energy began to faintly radiate from her body.
"I dare speak what I have seen in the other world; the reality my mother is from. I have seen that violence can be used for great evil, but it can also be used to stop evil."
"Never in the 10,000 years of Azarath has that ever held true, nor have I seen it in my entire life."
"Gotham City is not Azarath, and you are neither Batman nor Robin."
"Who?"
"Two masked heroes that I watch every night."
Oh, brilliant idea, Zauriel, Azar thought to himself. Let the gem of destruction take inspiration from someone who solves his problems with his fists.
"And let me guess – you think that they are good and heroic, right?"
"Of course. They are the greatest heroes of all time."
"And you wish to be like them?"
"Yes, I do. They're better teachers than you and my mother ever could be."
"That really hurts to hear you say that." Rachel turned around to see her mother coming into the room.
"Arella, let me deal with her."
"No, this is my sin to deal with." She looked straight into her daughter's eyes with a face full of scorn.
"Your creation was the most horrific experience of my life, and for nine months I was expecting monster to come out of me. But Zauriel stayed by my side, assuring me that that you could become great good instead of evil. And then when you were born, and I saw your lovely face for the first time..."
"Oh, so I can only be good because I'm not ugly, right?"
"No, that's not what I'm saying."
"Yes, mother, and that's also not what you're thinking. The feelings from your mind are the same as what they've always been, and only recently do I understand them. You look at me and you see my father, and you're just waiting for me to turn into him."
"No, that's not true! I see you as my daughter!"
"Really? Then why have I never felt any love from you?"
"I always have loved you!"
"Then why have you always ignored and shunned me?"
"I couldn't interfere with your training!"
"So, giving me a bit of emotional support was too much?"
"Rachel, please, if you'll just listen..."
"Oh, sure, I'll listen! I'll listen to what you really think of me!"
Rachel shot out black energy from her hands onto Arella's head. Her mother put up a strong resistance, but eventually she succumbed and shouted out her true thoughts in an angry shout.
"You … should ... not … EXIST! I thought that Zauriel could help suppress the evil within you, but it turns out his idea of 'good' is no better than your father! I've finally realized the truth of Master Azar – there is no good outside of Azarath, and you will never be good! You are pure, absolute evil, and the only way you will ever be a hero is if you destroy yourself!"
Rachel stopped her spell, and Arella clasped her hands over her mouth in horror. It was true – whatever love she had for her daughter was shunned out by the terror of the plans her father had in mind. Seeing the despair in Rachel's face, she started moving towards her with her right hand stretching out.
"Rachel, I'm sorry!"
After freezing her mother with another spell, Rachel looked coldly back at her mother.
"You have no idea what it's like to be me! But Robin does!"
Rachel then slowly dissolved into the shadows beneath her feet. A moment later, she reappeared on the distant side of the gardens just behind the temple. She collapsed to the ground and burst into tears, sending waves of black energy around her that killed all life in its radius.
She knew that nobody would come to console her, but for the first time in a long time, she wished that someone, anyone, would. She magically changed into her nighttime clothes once again as she hugged her knees to her sobbing face, begging her mind to fall asleep. She had officially had enough of her world and her so-called protectors. She didn't just want to be like Batman and Robin – she wanted to be with them. She had watched them long enough to know that they would personally guide her, listen to her, and love her.
But she knew that would never happen either. Realizing this, she spell-casted herself to sleep.
/
"Rachel, wake up! We need to get out of here!"
Rachel abruptly awoke to a face she had not seen in years – the archangel Zauriel. He grabbed her by the hand and flew her out of the gardens and towards the outskirts of the city. As they flew, they were surrounded by fiery destruction quickly absorbing all of Azarath. In the distance, Rachel got a brief glimpse of towering eldritch monsters that seemed to be torching the sky.
"What's happening?"
"It's your father! He's come for you! I have to get you out of here!"
Rachel got a good look of some of her fellow Azarathean children fleeing a mass of lava that seemed to be turning into a dragonoid creature. Rachel broke free from Zauriel's grip and flew to rescue them, only to be grabbed and dragged back by her new guardian.
"Let me go! I have to save them!"
"Why?"
"Because I'm a hero!"
"But they hate you!"
"People hate Batman too, but he still saves everyone!"
"Good answer," Zauriel replied, knocking Rachel unconscious with his own magic. "It seems I picked the right mentors for you after all."
/
Robin lied on the ground utterly confused by what had just happened. Receiving an overdose of Scarecrow's fear toxin certainly didn't help, but he did know that a dark figure in a hood and a cape had just traumatized the self-proclaimed Master of Fear (as well as his goons).
At first Robin thought it may have been his mentor; even though they weren't on speaking terms anymore, he was still the only one Scarecrow was afraid of. But then he felt a warm, feminine touch on the top of his head, quickly but smoothly bringing his mind back to a stable state. He felt a similar hand on his left arm do the same to his body.
Fully healed, Robin stood back up and saw the dark figure above him – a new female vigilante, wearing a costume that was heavily inspired by their shared mentor.
"Who are you?"
Rachel could tell that he was afraid, but that he was also grateful, and was the first person she had ever met that wanted to know more about her. She wanted to seize this moment to talk for hours about how much he meant to her and wanted to fight evil by his side. She was even hoping that he could be the first one to actually love her. Maybe even fall in love with her.
But instead, she decided to answer him. She seized this moment with pride, doing away with the name her unloving mother had given to her, and now finally being able to call herself by her own name. A name that was inspired by both Caped Crusaders – a black creature associated with terror, but also a bird seeking out a companion to love.
"I'm Raven."