A punch aimed for my face, I caught it, a kick heading for my side, I blocked it; Ra's Al Ghul interfering catching my well aimed punch, I fell to the floor.

'You will be going to Gotham' He started.

I stared at him impassive, picking myself up.

'Tomorrow is Christmas, your tenth year birthday, you will be staying with our close associate' He continued.

'I expect you to be ready to depart in the next 4 hours' Talia told me as he left.

I picked up the previously discarded sword from the floor, inspecting it for fractures.
'You will be coming with me then' I asked her shortly.

'No' She said simply, leaving me alone in the training room, with all the weapons scattered around me.

My eyes surveyed the room examining the damage I had done to the training hall, the damage i could have done to my master's daughter if I had not held back, my hand tightened on the hilt of the sword as I sent it soaring through the air impaling a wooden dummy and knocking it to the floor.

I walked out the room, the lights flickering off automatically.
Shutting the door, I left the room in darkness.

I walked down the hall in silent questioning of who will own me next.
Joker.
Jade.
Sportsmaster.

These were all the names at the top of my head, they have sent me to those people before; The Joker, to torture me; Jade and Sportsmaster as a broker.
But I doubt they'd send me to them, not right now anyway.

I found myself in front of dark oak twin doors, I pushed them aside stepping in, the scent of ancient bookfell wafted around in the moist air.
I closed the door, briefly disturbing the peaceful silence.
I sighed, relishing the quiet, no one was ever here, either to busy doing errands, or killing people.
I walked soundlessly to the historical literature section, I needed to pass the time, seeing as I had nothing better to do.
My fingers ran over titles, eventually stopping at one, I pulled out a book.

To Be Chosen.

A thrilling story about a princess who lost everything to a tyrant king and fought to get it back, eventually succeeding.
What an amazing story.
Is that what I should say?, What a load of bull, no one could have won against those odds, a king and his army versus an amateur warrior princess, how she did it remains a mystery, but I suppose there are two sides to every story.
And the last phrase written in the book, 'This is her story, now write yours', is that statement being literal or metaphorical.
I dropped the book on the table about to get up, when I heard something, no, it was more of what I couldn't hear.
Instead of a soft thud, there was a loud knock that resounded through the library.
It was hollow.

Book in hand, I flipped to the last page and tapped on it lightly, it was definitely hollow.
Pulling out a knife from my belt, I cut through the thin fabric of the book, finding myself staring at a gem encrusted journal.
I picked it out of it's casing, putting the book back in it's place on the shelf, so I guess the statement was literal then.
I heard footsteps, thinking fast I stuck the journal between the books.

'It is time' It was short, simple, efficient, it was an order.

'Yes Talia' I said wrapping my fingers around the book as she turned away.

I sighed, doubting I had been here for more that two hours.

I followed her to my room, 'You have five minutes to pack'
I nodded, closing the door behind me.

Grabbing my backpack from under the bed, I took out folded clothes, gloves and masks from the drawer and put it in the bag.
I stared at the journal on the bed and as an afterthought, slipped it in along with the rest of my gear.

I opened the door to come face to face- well chest sort of.
'Just on time' She said somewhat disappointed.
'Why am I going to Gotham' I asked.
She stared at me shocked I spoke, and I was too, 'To get integrated into Gotham's criminal society'
I took the answer knowing I wouldn't get another one, I would have asked who I was to be staying with, but I doubt that would go without punishment.

I opened the journal-which was unsurprisingly blank, and started writing my feelings about everything that had happened to me since my parents death, about how Ra's Al Ghul wanted me to call him father after he knew I had lost mine,I found writing emotions easier than expressing them.
I closed it, rearranging the gems that unlocked it, setting my own unique pattern, my password.
I made a choice from now on I was going to see how it was like being treated as a person, not a weapon, even if it was just for a little while.
I smiled, my face reflecting off the plane's window, the setting sun cushioned by clouds in the background.

I turned away, I had spent the years riding myself of feeling and emotion, always practising, always apathetic.

It will be child's play to orchestrate, replicate, and manipulate such emotions.

I smiled again, but this time wider, and for the first time in years, I felt like I was going to have some fun.

I slid open the door and looked down at the drop, I put on the parachute, grabbing my bag jumping out the plane.
I did several backflips, pulling the cord, unfolding the chute.
I felt my body being slowed down, I laughed unfastening the straps that secured me to the parachute.
I landed on the roof of Wayne Tower with a soft thud,a smile creeping onto my face.
From up here, the city looked beautiful, like all the evil in it was being kept at bay.
I suppose even villains had their good days.
I heard the crunch of boots on the newly fallen snow.

'Wipe that grin off your face, this will be the hardest training you have ever endured'
My smile grew as I turned to look at the mercenary assassin in front of me, half his mask black, the other, yellow.
'Deathstroke' I ponder 'They sent me to you'

He was in front of me with a blade to my neck, I looked into the holes cut into his mask.
He sheathed the katana, 'I expect you to behave'.

He walked away.

The corners of my lips turned upward in a smirk as I grabbed my backpack following after him, it'll be amusing I suppose, to fool him as well.

AN: What do you think for a chapter 1, sorry if the format is wrong I copied and pasted.

Thanks for reading.