CH. 3: SPIRITS AND DEMONS
He avoided the Titans for the rest of the day. Not out of anger towards them, but towards himself. That, and he was still feeling unnerved by the 'healing process' he went through at the end of his impromptu fight with Jaime. For lunch, he simply grabbed a plate of food, chicken fettuccini alfredo with broccoli, and retreated back to his room to 'process'. Starfire stopped by during his meal to see if he was alright.
He was surprised she didn't try to scold him. His father would've. Not that she would've had to. Nearly having your face burned off by an alien plasma weapon was enough to humble anyone, even the great Damian al-Ghul Wayne. He simply told her that he needed time to think. Truth was, just 'thinking' was not helping any at all. So, he tried practicing some of his sword katas.
This, too, did little to calm his thoughts. He felt distracted, unable to get the image of the 'dark lord' out of his mind. At the mere thought of this entity he felt fear, hatred and revulsion. Like if you were looking Hitler dead in the eye. The only other person who could've provoked such thoughts and emotions in him was Slade Wilson. And he did not want to think about him at the moment.
But, beings of evil incarnate weren't the only cause of his current state of unease. It was Raven. She had healed him even though he probably deserved what he had gotten. Being honest with himself, he had been a total asshole. He was angry at being banished out here and he was taking it out on people who had nothing to do with it. And yet, she had healed his almost certainly mortal wound.
Despite being 'super heroes', he wasn't 'one of them' and, what's more, his actions were more like that of an anti-hero at best, enemy at worst. So why? Why did she do it? 'I all but started the fight,' he said to himself as he spun the sword. 'Why did I do that? What was I trying to prove? That I was better? I'm above such petty concerns.' But, there was still one inescapable feeling he thought was the 'truth'. 'I don't belong here.' He ground his teeth as he realized he didn't seem to belong anywhere. And he was venting it at others who were supposed to be on the same side as him; such dishonorable behavior was not expected of him, anywhere. 'I'm such a jerk!' He snapped at himself as he threw the sword at the wall.
"Ah!" He heard a voice cry out from the other side.
'Case in point,' he cursed himself as he heard a bear growl through the wall.
"Hey!" Garfield shouted as his paw pounded on the wall. "What is wrong with you!? That is very dangerous!" At that moment, Damian spotted movement on the grounds below. Barely perceptible in the dark, even with the small candle light.
'Raven?' Somehow, he knew who it was before he even looked.
"You could put out an eye with that thing!" Little did Beast Boy know that it was technically too late for that. They didn't know it, but on the other side of the world, someone sneezed. "Didn't your mother tell you not to play with knives!?" Whether it was curiosity, gratitude or, something else, Damian grabbed one of his hoodies and headed for the ground floor, suddenly feeling the urge to speak with her.
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He headed into the small grove that was behind the Tower. There was a small light up ahead in the brush. He moved as quickly but as quietly as he could. He wasn't trying to sneak up or spy on her. He just had a feeling that he might be intruding and didn't want to disturb her.
Again, he found this feeling of concern, or respect, odd. He normally wasn't like that. Normally he'd just barge in. But, ever since he came to he's been feeling…odd. He paused as he heard Raven's voice up ahead. 'What's she doing?'
"Mother spirit of the Nether-Realm," she said in a monotone voice, chanting some kind of prayer. He could barely make it out, but it sounded less like a request for herself and more like an incantation. It sounded like a spell. But for what he couldn't make out. And, truth was, magic unnerved him somewhat. Both he and his father preferred science and hard data. Logic and statistics were more important, and reliable, than mysticism.
He came to the clearing as he felt a brief wave of warm air around him. He brushed it off as a random change in the air temperature. An air pocket he'd happened to walk through. He HhHhhfihfhiHe also saw the source of the light, a set of incense sticks stuck into a small brass altar. She'd no doubt would know he was there soon, so there was no point in trying to hide. He walked over, stopping until he was in front of her an equal distance from the brass bowl.
Normally, showing gratitude wasn't his strongest suit. But he still felt the need to do so. Again, these feelings were not normal for him. But, he was still honor bound to offer some sort of thanks. "I suppose I should thank you for healing me," he said in a normal tone, and volume, as he scratched the back of his head. He couldn't help but feel awkward for intruding on her.
"Uh," Raven spoke up, as if confused or annoyed by his statement of 'thanks', "you're welcome?" Her eyes opened and she looked directly at him. Her gaze felt weird, like she was simultaneously looking at him, past him and around him. It made him uneasy.
"It was strange having you in my head," he said as he sat down. "I felt you prying into my entire life. It was not appreciated."
"I'm an empath," she clarified quickly. It wasn't intentional. Just something that came with the territory. "And if it makes you feel any better, I didn't see it as much as felt it. I've been trying to shake it off ever since."
'You and me both.' "Then you know I'm not meant to be here, at this stupid school," Damian responded.
'How is anyone supposed to know where they belong?' She asked herself. 'He's spent his whole life being told he's meant to be at the top, leading or otherwise in a superior position. And now, he feels lost at sea.'
"I was groomed for a higher calling…"
'I already knew that…' She realized that her spell did more than just heal him. It had forged a psychic bond. So far it was weak, and as long as she kept her distance, it would only be temporary.
"…My grandfather's…"
"I know all about your grandfather," Raven cut him off, not wanting to be reminded and risk the connection becoming permanent. "I felt him. He was a demon," maybe bluntness would make him leave, but she doubted it. "And believe me, I know my demons."
'For some strange reason, I do,' Damian said to himself. 'But why?' He ignored it, too incensed by her calling his grandfather a 'demon'. "He was a great man," he retorted. He wasn't sure why he kept saying that, he wasn't sure he believed it anymore. It was just a reflex response. "We were going to make the world stronger, better." Now he felt himself forcing himself to say those things. Like he was trying to convince himself, not her. "We were going to rule it together," now he was sounding dejected, not even caring that it would never happen now.
"I know all about that game, too," the witch girl responded. Rule the world? Countless people, little more than devils in human form, have tried that. And they all failed, usually dying as their would-be empires crashed and burned around them. Ra's al-Ghul would've been no different. Was no different. "Now," she really needed to get distance from him before something happened that neither would want. It was as much to protect him as it was herself. "I don't mean to be rude, but would you mind getting the hell away from me?" She closed her eyes to resume her meditations, desperate to prevent a bond he certainly wouldn't want from forming.
'That was blunt,' Damian thought as he stood up. 'Even for me.' "You know," so much for an 'easy plan', "when you were in my head, I could see things about you, too." He was bluffing, mostly. He only saw one thing. And he needed to understand it. He hated not knowing things.
"Like what?" Raven said in a snappy tone that almost took him back. Somehow, that retort from her unnerved him more than the ethereal glow about her, the creepy incense, or the fact that she was floating four inches above the ground.
"It looked like a man but," he hesitated, feeling a sense of dread over talking about it, as though speaking of it would make it real, "something more. Who…" again he hesitated nervously, almost forcing himself to put words to it, "what was that thing?"
"It was nothing," Raven responded. "A nightmare." 'I should've expected him to see something. Bonds are two-way roads. I need to end this now…'
"It was real!" Damian persisted. On the one hand, Raven found it an admirable trait. But, in this situation, it was annoying. "I could tell." Finally, she'd had enough and decided to leave, knowing he wouldn't.
"It's none of your business," she said, standing up, barely controlling her emotions. "Who are you to judge my life? You have other things to fix here," she then opened a portal and stepped through, coming out in her room.
Having finally put distance between herself and the 'boy', Raven took a deep breath. His inquiries had been more taxing than she expected. And he didn't give up easily. But then again, neither did she. She closed her eyes and focused. It was still there. Still weak, but it was there. Despite her best efforts it was beginning to look like this unwanted bond wasn't going away any time soon. "Damnit."
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As he returned to the Tower, Damian couldn't help but feel unnerved. So far, his first day with the Titans was not what anyone would call 'inspiring'. He'd all but insulted nearly every single member, started a fight, and probably pissed off the most open-minded person on the team. His father would be disappointed.
And, he didn't like it when others proved him wrong or made him feel embarrassed. But, Raven was right, he had to set a few things right. His confrontation with the Blue Beetle had been a mistake. For one thing, he assumed too much about him. He also failed to expect the unexpected. He had failed to follow his training and instead acted, or rather reacted, emotionally. And it nearly got him killed.
Still, he was expected to work with this 'team' and it would not do to have lingering animosity between any of the members. Therefore, he would need to remedy that. And that meant seeking out his 'rival' from that morning.
He found Jaime in one of the lounges. Sitting on a couch with a laptop in front of him. Again, he wasn't used to issuing things like gratitude or apologies. But, here he was. And after Raven's retort outside, he felt compelled to follow through. "Jaime?" He spoke up, arms behind his back in a relaxed, reserved position of respect. The same one instilled by his grandfather and, later, Alfred Pennyworth. He spotted an iguana half-hiding under the table among some building blocks, Garfield.
"Yeah?" The teen responded with a grumpy tone. Like a teenaged, Hispanic, Ebenezer Scrooge.
"Perhaps it was a mistake to challenge you this morning," he began his 'reserved' acquiescence of regret, "without knowing the full capacity of your…" he chose his next words carefully, remembering the response he got the last time, "alien attachment. I promise you, it won't happen again." And with that he turned and left, hoping that last line wouldn't be taken as a threat.
"Did he…" Jaime was a little surprised by what just happened "just say he's 'sorry'?" 'Wasn't expecting the loco mocoso to actually apologize!'
"Aww," Garfield said after shifting back to human form. "See? He likes you." Somehow, Jaime didn't want to go that far.
After hopefully 'fixing' things with the Blue Beetle, Damian found himself curious about the instigator of his apology. He didn't think Raven would be willing to speak to him so soon after their mini-argument in the grove and he didn't want any of the others to think he was being intrusive or 'romantically inclined' towards her. Instead, he accessed the main computer. But, it wasn't what he found that piqued his interest, it was what he didn't find.
Beyond basic personal information, birth date, height, weight, and a record of her affiliation with the Titans, there was little else on her. No records on her family, immediate or extended, no social security number or place of birth. It had her blood type, A-Negative, fingerprints and a genetic sample that listed her as five percent Italian, ten percent Gaelic, thirty-five percent Germanic-Scandinavian, and fifty percent 'unknown', which Damian found most interesting.
After failing to get anything from the computer, Damian broadened his search. First, he checked the internet, called open-source research, but only found references to her missions with the Titans. Next he used his computer to 'covertly access' various government agencies. Again, he came up mostly dry aside from some research projects on the theories regarding the source and nature of her powers.
Not even their 'esteemed leader' had any extra information on Raven. It was as though 'Rachel Roth' suddenly materialized out of thin air, partially true according to her first encounter with the Titans just over two years ago. Nightwing had found her and brought her to the team while they were in the middle of a mission. Aside from a vague description of her home being an unidentified 'hostile realm' there was virtually nothing on her.
To Damian, it was unthinkable not to vet someone before trusting them. He somehow knew he could trust her, though, but he didn't like going on 'faith'. He'd gone on such belief without data before and it nearly got him killed on one occasion. On another it resulted in an almost world-shattering tragedy.
He preferred hard data. Failing that, personal experience. On that note, his experience led him to trust her after she voluntarily healed him. He wouldn't go so far as to call her a friend or even an 'ally' just yet. But, he was willing to keep an open mind.
As he passed Raven's room on the way to his, he could feel her presence. It was really starting to concern him that he could just know she was close by. It was an unnatural paranoia that he was unsure of how to handle. Normally, he'd channel it to counter a possible threat. But, in this instance he felt no threat, either to himself or others. It was more of a 'fish out of water' feeling.
The next day, Damian spent doing research. He studied previous Titan missions. First, he focused on the ones Grayson had participated in. He almost found the one where they first met Starfire amusing. He was surprised Flash never said anything about being a former member of the Titans. He didn't know who Speedy or Bee were; they had either retired or maintained a solo career profile post-Titans. But he saw that Beast Boy had hardly changed since he helped form the team.
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For her part, Raven tried to keep her distance from Damian. Not out of fear or distaste of him. She was simply worried she'd be a danger to him. Psychic bonds could be just as dangerous as they were beneficial and therefore not entered lightly. But, she found herself reluctantly curious about the new Robin.
He was certainly different from other members of the Titans who have come and gone. Nor did he lack for skills or courage. Rumor had it that he was just as intelligent as Batman as well as an eye for detecting threats. Not surprising considering the training he received in his Grandfather's league. It certainly explained why his combat style was much more aggressive than those practiced by other members of the Titans or the Justice League.
There was more on her mind though than her new teammate. Last night, she had another dream. Thankfully, the eyes didn't return, but it was just as vivid as the one she had the night prior. Her dreams were beginning to really bother her. As if their increasingly vivid nature was an early alert or sixth sense of impending danger.
In this one, she found herself in a dark, limestone hallway lined with torches. It looked ancient, and it felt like she was underground. Sensing a presence behind her she turned around to find the Red Knight standing a few yards behind her. But, strangely, she didn't detect any threat from him. "Who are you?" She asked of the shrouded figure. He made no reply. He simply lowered himself to his right knee, holding his sword out in both hands.
The sword looked like it was hewn from a solid piece of obsidian. Razor sharp and shining with an ethereal brilliance, its leather handle faded from a long history of use. Raven quickly deduced the meaning of the gesture. He was like a knight swearing fealty to her, making a solemn, silent vow to protect her.
Suddenly, as if to prove her assumption, the Red Knight rose to his feet and shot past her, intercepting the blade of the Black Swordsman who materialized out of thin air behind her. Only this time, the Black Swordsman towered over the Red Knight, like an adult towering over a child. Their obsidian blades made a sound like metallic thunder as the Red Knight pushed her away, signaling her to run to safety. And with that she woke up.
Raven still had no idea of the meaning of the two swordsmen. She didn't know if they represented a coming battle against a certain 'evil' that has haunted her whole life. Or if they represented an inner struggle she was having with herself. They could've meant something different all together. One thing she was certain of was that the dreams were not random. They had meaning.
But, for the life of her, she had no idea what that meaning was at this time.