Chapter 3: The Cave of the Shadows

Talia al Ghul was waiting for them on the cleverly concealed helicopter pad.

"Welcome home, Damien," she said by way of greeting.

Damien went to give her a hug, but restrained himself just in time. They didn't hug in this place. "Hello, mother," said Damien. "It is..." He paused. He'd been about to say 'good to see you.' But he wasn't sure if good was the right word. "...strange to be back after so long," Damien finished.

"It's been too long," Talia agreed.

Damien realized that he wasn't sure of that either. The place felt a lot smaller now, and the eyes behind the masks of his grandfather's men were different eyes from those he remembered.

"Would you like to change into something more suitable?" Talia asked. She motioned to one of the ninjas and they came forward with a neatly folded uniform just like hers. "I had it made for your size."

"If you insist," said Damien. He wondered what leather would feel like against skin used to polymers and Kevlar.

"You know, I think I do," his mother said playfully.

Damien accepted the clothing. "Is my room...?"

"Still how you left it," assured Talia.

"Good," said Damien. And he regained some of his old swagger as he walked the familiar route to his childhood room.

The room was still the same. The same mattress on a pallet on the ground, the two small katanas on the wall (the larger sword that completed the set was at Wayne Manor as Damien had taken it with him all those years ago.) There were a few books on martial arts and ancient weapons by the bed. A few folded robes in a trunk. And that was it.

Damien thought of the posters plastered on the walls of Grayson's room in Wayne Manor (even his adult house in Bludhaven had a few), of the mess in Todd's apartment, and of the stacks upon stacks of books in Drake's room. Then he felt very odd. Almost cheated.

"You're here to change the world, not hold an internal debate about child rearing," Damien muttered to himself. He folded his Robin uniform and fished out his phone.

I should call Drake, Damien thought. Or he might worry and call father. That would be a disaster.

He'd raised his phone to do just that when someone knocked. "Would you like to join me for a meal?" Ra's called through the door. "I know you slept on the flight but you must be hungry."

"Yeah...I mean..." Damien back-tracked. "Yes, grandfather, I would be honored to join you." He hesitated, searched for pockets on the leather pants, and finding none, slipped his phone under his Robin uniform on the bed.

I'll call after eating, Damien promised himself.

The meal was simple but filling, some rice and a hearty beef broth, and Damien was feeling content.

"Grandfather," he asked as the meal concluded. "Perhaps we may start talking about..."

"We must wait for your mother to return, first," said Ra's. "I sent her on an errand."

"Oh...of course..."

"She'll be back within the hour," assured Ra's. "While we wait...perhaps you'd like to spar? It's been a long time. I'd like to see how your skills have improved...or not."

Damien couldn't refuse such a challenge.

"Blades?" He asked, standing.

"Staffs," said Ra's. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves."

"As you like," said Damien, grinning. He'd watched Drake fight for years now. Even though a staff wasn't Damien's usual weapon, he trained with everything in the Bat Cave and committed every trick the older boy did to memory.

"In addition," said Ra's conversationally as they entered one of the many training rooms. They chose their staffs. "With a blunt weapon, we do not need to hold back." And he brought his heavy staff down in a sweeping arc towards Damien's neck.

Damien dropped to one knee, bringing up his own staff just in time. They collided with a loud crack. Damien, dropped the rest of the way to the ground and rolled out of the way, coming up with a cry to swing at Ra's head. But mid-swing, he let go of the staff with one hand so that the end hit Ra's knees, below his self-confident block near his stomach.

Ra's let out an "oof."

Damien stepped back and fell into an easy stance, staff held loose.

"You've improved," observed Ra's.

"I'm older now," said Damien.

And they both charged.

Ra's had years and years of experience.

But Damien was faster. Damien was a prodigy.

The staffs groaned and protested the strength of the blows. A crowd gathered by the doors. Sweat dripped to the floor, almost hissing from how hot it was as it fell.

Then, it was over.

Damien swept his staff under Ra's legs and he fell onto his back. The end of Damien's staff quivered between Ra's eyes.

"Check mate," panted Damien.

The room held its breath.

"Impressive," breathed Ra's. "Most impressive."

Damien stepped back and graciously offered Ra's a hand, his face flushed and chest heaving from the exertion.

"You are ready," Ra's said, accepting the hand.

"Ready?" Asked Damien.

"To take over the League of Shadows," said Ra's. "Damien, it is time for you to accept your destiny. You were born for this." Ra's swept his hand across the room, indicating the silent crowd of assassins and the mountains outside. "You were born to carry on my legacy. You shall become the next Ra's al Ghul."

"Grandfather," said Damien slowly. "You still have many years left to lead."

"My days measure in weeks, not years," said Ra's. "Every time I use the Lazarus Pit, it takes a little more from me. I will not survive the next plunge unless..." Ra's eyes bored into Damien's and every single alarm bell began to ring in Damien's head. "...unless there is another body waiting for me."

"Another body?" Damien asked. He clutched the staff tighter.

"Yes, Damien. You," said Ra's simply, softly. As if this were a reward and not...and not...

"You want to possess me?!" Damien asked. He felt as if the world had just been flipped upside-down.

"Nothing so crude," Ra's assured him. "You would be gone. Only your body would remain."

"So I'd be dead?!" Damien was yelling. He didn't remember deciding to yell.

"You aren't understanding me," Ra's began.

"I understand well enough!"

Damien turned and ran. No one tried to stop him. They're probably as shocked as I am, Damien thought wildly. He was wrong. They were simply waiting.

He sprinted to his old room. No. No it was a room in which he had once slept, nothing about it was his.

He slammed shut the door and turned to grab his clothes and get the fuck out.

But his clothes, and his phone, were gone.

Damien froze, scanning the room. Had he put it in the chest? He could have sworn...Damien's eyes landed on the katana set on the wall. He frowned. For some reason it made him uneasy. Probably the shock of the entire situation. He decided to bring along his favorite katana in case his grandfather told people to attack him...

For the second time, Damien's entire world was flipped.

His favorite katana. The one he had under his bed at Wayne Manor.

They took my stuff out of my room.

In one second, Damien imagined the scene. Imagined Drake going into his bedroom and finding nothing. Imagined Drake calling over Alfred, confused and annoyed. Imagined Todd dropping by and complaining about how 'that demon brat' was always going to run out on them.

Imagined his family thinking he'd abandoned them.

There was a soft knock on the door.

"Damien?" Asked Ra's. The door knob began to turn.
Damien lunged forward and pulled a dagger off the wall and Ra's found its point quivering in front of his nose when he finished opening the door.

"Where's my phone?!" Demanded Damien.

"You won't need it anymore," said Ra's.

"Once mother hears about this...!"

"She already knows," said Ra's soothingly. "In fact, most of this was her idea."

Damien swallowed hard, but the hand holding the dagger didn't waver. "Where is my phone?" Damien growled.

"You should be honored," said Ra's with a frown. "When you lived here-"

"When I lived here I was brainwashed into thinking that your way was the only way to live!" Damien yelled. "But I know better now...I'm not letting you do this. I refuse!"

"That does make it harder," Ra's admitted. "But not impossible."

There was the swish of a curtain and Damien turned to intercept whatever was being thrown at him.

But he was expecting a dagger or an arrow, and the tranquilizing dart sank into his neck. He pulled it out almost immediately, but it was a potent little beast.

"We didn't want to do this, Damien," Talia told her son regretfully, lowering the small crossbow.

"When father..." Damien began weakly.

"By the time dear Bruce hears about this..." her voice sounded so far away. "It will be over."

Damien collapsed on the floor as everything went dark.