I'm sorry for the long wait. Nevertheless, thanks for the support, reviews, alerts, etc. I was surprised that people still cared for this fic (which wasn't very much the case when it started despite a few loyal reviewers whom I love). Maybe we're all deranged and in love with Klarion :) (but he is Artemis', at least for this fic).

I based the Klarion/Robin fight off of Shadow Mission :)


Chapter 9: It's Not the Red of the Dying Sun


Although the two had escaped gloriously in blaze of dark magic, for even Artemis could stop making snide remarks and admire the primal power of Klarion's spells, she was currently bored. The blonde sat meditating too calmly despite the discord-filled magic that had grown within her. No, grown wasn't the right word. The magic that Klarion had originally planted within her felt like it had boiled, mutilated, and gutted her, mashed her tendons haphazardly back together and repeated the process. Now, the magic had calmed and felt as natural to her as breathing; she paused and focused on her magical core; it was no longer the magic that Klarion had given her. The power within Artemis sang only for her; she had power in her own right through training and studying under the witch boy.

What would her mother think if she knew that Artemis had enjoyed it? The sheer, sinful swelling of dark magic that had both wisened and strengthened her?

Opening her eyes to bask in the greyish, colorless light of the mountainous shadow realm, Artemis' mind returned to thoughts of the Justice League. Only a week had past since her mother had died; cutting the last of her emotional ties to a simple, mortal life. How angsty...

Artemis snickered at her irrelevant thoughts of time and magic, but stopped as she heard Klarion approach from behind.

"Robin's been arrested. It's all over the NEWS!" Klarion cackled out like a raving theatre reject, quite possibly echoing through the pocket realm, but there were no worries. All that existed here was Klarion and herself; it was poetic really.

"You're embarrassing me," Artemis flickered her eyes, staring at the witch boy in mock-anger.

"Ooooooooooooooooh," Klarion's mouth dropped into a childish 'o'. "Like I care!" The witch boy growled in a lower, more grated tone, before his face melted back into a calm, albeit annoyingly devilish grin. "Robin is coming here soon."

"Of course he is...and is there any reason why?"

"No. I'm just bored. Summoning monsters and demonic rituals got a little too messy after a while."

Artemis paused before responding, studying the witch boy. His black clothing and pale skin fit the black, white, and withered grey of his shadow realm. In contrast, she was color: living, breathing and bold color. Her blond hair was drawn in a ponytail, but still silky and shimmering as if ripped off the head of a Vogue model. Unlike the ivory skin of her master, she was simply tan: the darkened hues of desert sand. Only her dark grey eyes, almost to the point of pure blackness, fit this realm.

"I'm really that boring? You kidnapped me, witch boy."

"SO!" Klarion bellowed, waving his hands in the air. "I regret it everyday..." His face downturned into fake-crying, eventually raising itself to sneer once again at her. Before she had joined Klarion, Artemis would have relished in clocking him, perhaps even flat-out ending the runt of a wizard's life.

"I can think of ways to keep you entertained..." Artemis sat up, dusting herself off from the ground. She stepped closer to Klarion, inwardly snickering at the glint in his eyes. The witch boy could never hide his emotions; she might have entered into this as his apprentice, but she knew how to twist Klarion into responding to her.

Without having to provoke him further, Klarion launched his lips onto Artemis', possessively and sloppily. She wouldn't have expected more or less. Somewhere in the distant grey mists of the pocket dimension, the dying sun burned a slight tinge of a brilliant red at the meeting of the two teens. Artemis and Klarion were a study of contrasts: she was a beacon of color becoming enveloped by his black and white exterior. Her pastel pink, almost toned-down red lips burned under the witch-boy's kiss.

A week hidden away in the shadow realm had turned into a nauseating, confusing, yet fulfilling bliss. She definitely didn't hate his kisses…


Robin awoke in harsh, grainy grey landscape, plagued my mist-stained skies and dying trees. Several feet away from him, grew one such tree, twisted and charred a black to rival his own hair. Perhaps grew was not the right word…the tree looked like a forgotten weapon plunged into the ground as if in an attack. The ground cracked and ebbed from the tree, a violent tremor of a past battle.

This was nothing he could have dreamed, not even the former nightmares of his parents dying had created an atmosphere as foreboding. Robin took in a sharp breath, quickly regretting it as a gritty, sand-filled air grated the insides of his mouth. It didn't make sense that even the air should try to kill him; this heightened sense of feeling was uncommon for his dreams. In contrast to the often-fuzzy memories that dominated his sleep, this world felt all too real or perhaps it was more than real…a surrealist nightmare designed to kill him.

That only left the question about who was behind this dream world. Gotham's criminals had never done anything like this…and Dick highly doubted that a drug-induced hallucination could feel this real. It had to be someone who knew him from Young Justice; it was probably some low-rate villain. Batman and the team would soon rescue him…or maybe he wouldn't even need rescuing.

Robin started walking away from the tree, studying the eerie but monotonous landscape. He needed to believe that he could survive this; his team must come.

A cackling broke out from the faraway ledge of black cliff in the distance. No, it was not some low-rate villain; Klarion the witch boy stood smirking down at the boy wonder. Robin glared back, trying to recall the last mission he had seen the witch boy, but a grey haziness to match the misty skies of this realm blocked his mind from remembering. Robin tried focusing on other memories: of Bruce, his team, and how he got here, but his mind either produced a remorseless, grey nothingness or the barest, blurred image of what had happened. He knew the names of his teammates, his family, and other useless facts, but the circumstances leading up to his arrival here were lost to him.

For the first time since waking up here, Robin broke into a sweat, twitching at the loss of his memory. Fear was not something he was used to; his team and Batman had always been there with him to fight villains. Now, he didn't even have the comfort of his memories.

"What's wrong, Robin? Don't you like my shadow dimension?"

"I'm not impressed," Robin calmed himself, at least his exterior to taunt back at his captor.

"You don't even have super powers. Do you really think you're a match for me, Boy Blunder?"

Inwardly, Robin wanted to scream 'no.' He had training, his muscles tensed awaiting a fight with the witch, but his memories were something he needed. Robin felt like a child, a baby devoid of any practical life experience.

"I can defeat you again," Robin sneered, but he truthfully didn't know if he had ever defeated the witch boy before.

"Really, baby bird? I bet you can't even last 20…no, 10 minutes here. I'm really betting on 5, but maybe I'll get bored and make things easier for you." With that, the witch boy dissipated into a grey mist, away from the cliff.

"Ooooooh, I forgot," Klarion's voice cooed loudly, vibrating throughout the shadow dimension. Robin tried looking around for the witch boy, grasping a batarang, but to no avail. This was Klarion's world: his black and white playpen to torture the bird. "Play nice with my friends!"

Finally, the witch boy's voice stopped much to Robin's relief. Klarion's voice was like a vocal taser or a deadly acid, burning the boy wonder's ears. Some things weren't just annoying, but deadly obnoxious. Robin smirked to himself, relishing in teasing the witch boy.

Before Robin could turn towards the cliff and begin climbing, a pronged hand-like form jetted into his side, pushing him several fete away into the ground. Robin's head darted up, focusing on the shadowy form before him. It was like nothing he had ever seen, but then again, so was the entire nightmare world. The creature didn't really have a definite form, it was a black shadow that recalled the children from Fable 3…

"You couldn't even be original, witch boy? Your friend looks copyrighted!"

The creature lunged at him, swinging its arms, which were more like curved, thick swords. Whatever species this shadow creature was, its lack of fingers only highlighted its intent: to kill Robin.

Kicking himself up, Robin brandished his eskrima sticks. The twin sticks, firmly grasped in his hands, gave him a momentary comfort as he ran, then dove into a jump at the creature. Maybe he didn't even need Batman…

Before Robin could even scream, the shadow creature's pressed its arms together side-by-side, fusing them together into one weapon. The monster dove forward, breaking past Robin's sticks, before puncturing the boy wonder's chest.

Despite the size of the minion's two-fused arms, the shadow weapon pushed its way through Robin, breaching his back.

Robin, clinging to the barest slivers of life, looked down to see a fountain of red…his own blood…pour down the creature's arms and his own body. He should have been more careful…he should have been more…

"More like me, Dickie-bird?" Klarion's form suddenly assembled itself from a puff of grey mist that appeared next to the shadow mission. "I thought you would last longer then this…my lady was most displeased.

"My lady?" Robin chocked out, his mind diving in and out of surrending to the darkness of death. His blood continued to spill, giving this grey world the only color it might ever have. It was as if Robin's life purpose had been to die; his blood born to be split like a Jackson Pollack painting across the grey ground of Klarion's realm.

"I will keep you alive…just a bit longer."

With those words that rung like an unholy enchantment, Robin felt a spark of life, albeit dark, envelope him. His heart beat faster, his lungs healed themselves, but the shadow creature's conjoined arms still were plunged through his chest.

"I won't take that out just yet. It's fun to watch you cry, birdie."

Klarion outstretched his arm as if to grasp someone who wasn't there in the emptiness next to him. Robin look over, confused and disoriented, as Artemis appeared in a similar puff of grey mist.

"We'll have to repeat and play again. What was that beast-thing even on, witch boy?" Artemis glared. "Pumped up with satanic steroids? It hardly looked fair."

"But Artemis…" Klarion whined, pouting at his more-than-girlfriend, his more-than-apprentice.

Robin gazed between the two, fearful of their insanity and ignorance towards the fact that he had a wacked-out shadowy arm weapon in him. No big deal really…

"Witch boy," Artemis crossed her arms and looked away, before biting her lip to repress a snicker. She still relished in taunting him.

"Fine!" Klarion screamed like a child caught stealing by his parents. "Next time, I'll make things 'fair."

Klarion stared at Robin, muttering a mumbled spell. As the boy wonder slipped out of consciousness, the creature finally withdrew its arms, letting the boy's body clunk to the ground. Robin's chest knitted itself back together, magically reforming skin without even the slightest scarring.

"What is the point of this anyway, Klarion?"

"In the waking world, Robin is bound, drugged. The Justice League hasn't been able to decide what to do with him in the week we've been away."

Artemis tisked, slightly mad that Klarion would still withhold relevant information about the League until the last second.

"Do they believe that fake memories you implanted?"

"Most…but of course, they're suspicious."

"Why would they believe Robin could do anything that we actually did? The deaths, the magical barrier…"

Klarion stepped forward, lightly placing his thumb against her mouth to silence her. "Robin's dreaming mind has been linked to this pocket realm for days. He forgets everytime he wakes up here, fights some predictable monsters, and eventually dies."

"But...but why?" Artemis' eyes widened, curious, but without care for her former teammate.

"Being here corrupts him…magically. Just as being here has strengthened you and your connection to my magic, it had done the same with him. But it's different…he's still weak and unaccepting of dark magic."

"Are you trying to replace me? Move on with some way-too-flexible bird-freak?"

"No..." Klarion sighed. "He has the barest ability at dark magic nevertheless…enough that Zatara could detect and blame him for."

"I…" Artemis stuttered, not wanting to say sorry, so she choose to distract Klarion. "So, who believes the fake memories?"

Klarion smiled, "Everyone who is a telepath, magic-user, or has a general grudge against Batman's leadership."

"A grudge against the Batman?"

"What? Even the mightiest of Earth's heroes have greed for his power and prestige. Your 'uncle' one of them…"

"But who doesn't believe it then?"

"Well…" Klarion drew a breath, wondering how to break the instability they…no, he had caused be quickly taking Artemis away...but he would never regret it.


AN: I'm sorry for the wait (but know that since I don't have school or a job this summer, I can update more frequently).

What heroes do you want to not believe that Robin killed Artemis' mother and kidnapped her?

Anyways, for those interested in Klarion fics, I suggest reading "Scientifically Supernatural" by SParkie96 (Klarion/Robin) or "Chaotic" by Hesychia (Klarion/Artemis).