"Raven," a strong voice scolded me. I immediately tore my gaze away from the other kids my age, happily playing at the park instead of meditating, like I was forced to do. Locking any feelings of longing into the back of my mind, I focused on my mentor who had somehow noticed my indiscretion despite her still closed eyes.

"I apologize Azar, I was merely observing the other children," I explained in the forced monotone voice I was expected to use. She finally looked at me, eyes opening for the first time in hours, pity clearly visible in them. Momentary jealousy overwhelmed me: even she could feel while I could not.

Before she could notice, I quickly forced the emotion away until my mind was once again blank. I had been too slow however, and Azar easily noticed. Before she could get too far into one of the lectures I knew was coming, I hastily jumped up, almost tripping over my long white cloak in the process. "I'm going to see my mo– Arella," I informed her, trying to leave no room for argument.

"Raven, you know you're supposed to limit your contact with Arella."

"Of course Azar. I just have a quick question for her concerning the festival next week," I lied. In truth, I visited my mother frequently without Azar's approval to spend time with her. She was one of the few people who was willing to let me feel any emotion.

She sighed and, to my surprise, gave in. "Could you just give this to Coman on your way?" she asked, pulling a folded up letter from inside her own white cloak.

"Certainly," I said, hiding any reluctance as I took the letter and starting the journey towards the central Temple of Azar. I swiftly made my way through the streets of Azarath, ignoring the usual stares by keeping my eyes down on the ground and walking easily past the crowds.

I soon arrived at the temple, still filled with people praying from early this morning. I walked silently through the rows before arriving at the front where a priest was standing and observing the scene. "I am here to deliver a message to High Magistrate Coman. It's from Azar," I explained, keeping my voice at a whisper so as to not disturb people.

With a nod, the priest quickly led me into Coman's office before departing just as swiftly and silently as he had come. "Sir? I have a message from Azar," I said, interrupting the man working diligently behind the desk. He finally looked up, acknowledging my presence with a disapproving glare as he held out his hand. Handing him the envelope, I turned to leave but Coman stopped me.

"Stay," he commanded. Reluctantly I turned to face him again, saying nothing and letting an awkward silence fill the room. As he read the message a small frown appearing on his face, one that only intensified as he looked over at me. "Could you tell Azar that I will see to the matter immediately?"

I sighed, disappointed that I could not see my mother until I noticed his disapproving gaze on me. I quickly brought up the emotionless mask that I had been taught and nodded. "No problem Sir," I replied, hastily leaving before our poor excuse of a conversation could continue.

Once again walking through the main streets of Azarath, I finally arrived back at where I had been meditating earlier. "Azar, I have a reply from Coman," I said once I was in hearing range. She remained silent, still in her mediation pose, the only indicator that she had heard a slight inclination of her head. "He says that he will attend to the matter at once."

She nodded, never once getting up from her seat or opening her eyes. Sighing in relief at not having another message to deliver, I instantly departed. I darted quickly back into the main part of the city, paying no attention to the stares that seemed to follow me wherever I went, before I ducked into one of the few dark alleys the city had.

"Time to surprise mother," I said to myself. Screwing my eyes shut I concentrated on the power that Azar had been teaching me to command recently. "Azarath Metrion Zinthos," I chanted and my surroundings instantly vanished.

My feet hit solid ground seconds later and I fell to the floor, momentarily nauseous. Focusing on taking deep breaths, I stumbled to my feet and leant against the closest piece of furniture: my mother's bed in this case. I closed my eyes, still trying to get used to the sudden change in location via teleportation.

That's when I noticed the voices, my mother's and Coman's, talking in another room in the house. I had just talked to the High Magistrate and now he was talking to my mother? Curious to hear more, I crept towards the door of the bedroom, pressing my ear to it in order to better hear.

"I don't like it," my mother was saying, sounding surprisingly defiant as she talked to Azarath's second most powerful figure.

"Arella, don't act surprised. We warned you about this when we took you in and allowed you to give birth to her," Coman chastised her, no amount of sympathy in his voice. I slowly knelt to the ground upon hearing his reply. They were talking about me. Azar's note must have been about me then; what had I done wrong?

"But, I just want–"

"Listen Arella. We took you in when no else would, endangering our society and changing our way of life. Now, you owe it to us to listen. You know the threat that Raven represents because of her parentage. Now, I know it's hard for you as her mother, but for the sake of every Azarathian, she has to be denied every single emotion."

"I know Coman; I understand that. But I am her mother, I'm supposed to love her and comfort her and talk to her and–" Arella protested, before she was once again cut off.

"And that is exactly why she should not be interacting with you. Raven cannot afford any family or emotional bonds. I just said it must be every emotion, and that means every emotion. She cannot afford to ever know love or hate or Trigon will take control of her. You know this."

I hear my mother whimper and start to force out a reply, but I couldn't concentrate on the rest of the conversation. I staggered over to the window, my head spinning from shock and disbelief. I had to get away from this. Something must be wrong with me, and it had to deal with this Trigon guy.

I needed answers. Not from my mother, not from Azar, not from Coman. They had all been lying to me it seemed. There was only one other person that I knew I could rely on: Galya, my old nursemaid from when I was just an infant.

I squeezed my eyes shut, concentrating once again. "Azarath Merion Zinthos," I recited, and once again my surroundings vanished.