Interlude 2: Perspectives

THE WATCHTOWER

JULY 1st 2010

Earth was still a humbling view for Diana: For some, seeing the outlines of continents through the cloud, understanding the whole span of the oceans, seeing the very planet turn below them. All that would have filled the heart with pride. It would not have been necessarily a bad thing. There is much to be proud in the role of defender, to claim you protect and watch over the cradle of humanity with all your might. Not for her though and not for her companions in the Justice League. As part of an organizations where some people inspired, against their will, modern cults and esoteric followings, pride could be as dangerous as an enemy's blade.

She was no goddess even if she was formed from the flesh of one of the Protogenoï. She was strong, yes and blessed by the gods of high Olympus but she was no goddess. She didn't want for worshippers or even followers. She didn't even particularly want to convert people to the ancient religion of Hellas. That happened anyway as some she saved recognized the ancient names in her expletives or dug old interviews. There was no revival, at least not yet but more of sixty years of heroing had won the Amazon Princess scores of innocents ready to thank the patrons of she who saved them.

Her new protégé as the others referred to him was no god either even if he was their most direct intervention in living memory. A champion for entities the world no longer respected or adored. Even in Themiscyra, Hades and Persephone were respected but kept at arm's length while torch-wielding Hecate was more feared than loved, especially considering her long involvement with Circe. Diana understood the gods' wishes for a champion and for the moment, Raphael's action placed him higher than all the idiots who had been seduced by Ares deadly lure and empowered by the God of War. Not a difficult challenge mind you considering their tendency of reveling in their powers rather than fear them as the young man did his.

Still she didn't approve of the gods' methods to create such a champion. Quick-footed Hermes had not told her where they had found this soul. Apparently the young man had crossed the way to Xibalba and then to Hades all by himself. Still the cold report of the way the gods of death had imprinted their very essence in him, binding him to their service by pain and sheer power, had been trying to her respect for the Pantheon. She was ready to bet her lasso Raphael had not been offered a clear and honest choice before having his soul torn apart and hastily rebuilt with additional parts.

He had gained power from the ordeal yes, power and the potential to grow as a power in the sunless lands but such might had its own price. He had told her of the orders, the directives relayed by the disembodied mind squatting his head. Most of them were sensible and reasonable but Diana had met too much gods to hope this was always going to be the case.

Still the man wanted to do good and had showed a complete willingness to obey orders. She didn't doubt in a few years he could be League material

"Lost in thoughts, Princess?" King Orin's voice drew her from her reverie. Sometimes she pitied poor Aquaman saddled with an unfortunate reputation as a hero. How people managed to think someone as strong as her or Superman, able to master the creatures of the most varied biome in the planet and ruler of his own sovereign nation was mockable, was beyond her. Sure she had been subject to some pointed barbs in the forties and fifties when the American public tried to rein the changes the war had made to the conditions of women, but that didn't last long. Fortunately for everyone concerned, Orin took the mockery in strides, finding even a perverse thrill to collect the most egregious examples. "A reprieve from the formality and the solemnity of home", he said to her one day, "and besides you can't imagine faces criminals make when I catch them inland."

"Thinking on our duty, your Grace, thinking on our duty as always." It was a private game between them, he called her Princess, a title she never really accustomed herself to, and she answered in kind. Even some of their colleagues had trouble distinguishing when the exchanges were warm and when they took a mocking tone.

She turned to face him. Orin's skin was moist, the result of recent immersion. Strange it was not his habit at all. The costume was simple, green pants and orange chainmail. Ancient Atlanteans were good blacksmiths and enchanters to be sure but their taste in colors was terrible. Like many times before, Diana marveled the king of Atlantis who was not even half her age looked older than her, due mostly to the short blond beard and the wrinkles of care all over his face. She didn't hesitate to ask right away:

"Seems you needed a bath, your Grace. What happened? Did the surface air finally get to you?"

"Your protégé happened. He almost managed to desiccate me during training." Unlike what's one could have expected, the tone was not so angry than slightly annoyed at some minor inconvenience

Diana filled that one on the list she had made since Raphael's training began. As always, when someone was training her powers, wounds risked to happen. And the boy's strength was he could shift both in powers and in intensity. That was not as versatile as said the Green Power Ring or the ability to shapeshift but that could lead to surprising results in the spars: Animalistic war-forms, aura of icy cold, illusions, shadow constructs and more could be found in his bag of tricks. Even he could not exactly predict what a god would give him before channeling the power into his flesh.

For the moment he had managed to touch only three of them. Superman had been electrocuted, Hawkman had fought an avatar of Kali and received some minor gashes in the process and Zatara had one of his standard striking spells reflected on him. Not bad for a beginner but not exceptional considering each time he managed to inflict only very minor wounds, even with the advantage of surprise.

"How did he manage that? You are no more vulnerable to dehydration than a normal human."

"And am I lucky for that. He lost control of someone named Nergal and radiated sunlight all over the place. It was like spending a day without drinking anything. Yet that was the only blow he landed on me in the whole session."

So business as usual. Raphael's had a tendency to try to blast his enemies into oblivion when he was channeling warlike deities, that or to charge them head on lost in blood-frenzy. His attacks could not overwhelm a Leaguer and when his fury was spent he was easy to immobilize. Still that made a fourth hero touched. Perhaps she couldn't count it though, after all if the whole room had been affected… Still a question to ask:

"What did you think of him?"

Orin's face remained neutral as he gathered his thoughts. Aquaman had never been given to impulse, especially not when he had to render judgement, which as a monarch was depressingly often. Some time after he spoke again:

"Some parts of him are built for our line of work. He's curious, diligent in his studies, and eager to please his betters which apparently means us. He interacts with everyone from Barry to Giovanni like a curious student, always ready to hear us pontificate on whatever subject can help him. At heart, however, he is still full of fear and anger. The fear comes from his circumstances but I heard him talk about the world with enough bile to make Batman in a very bad day proud." He paused a moment before continuing "By instance he identified Luthor as a villain apparently simply by basis of his social status. He said something to the effect of: Of course he is evil, he's a billionaire in charge of a multinational company evil is ca contracted requirement. So he's more personable than Ollie's brat but less than my own Aqualad or Kid Flash"

Business as usual then in this field too then. For the moment of all the Leaguers, Red Tornado had the best opinion of the boy, a fact helped by the fact he had intruded in a conversation on humanity the robot was having with John Stewart. The rest of the League had very much the same opinion than Aquaman: An earnest boy with a somewhat bleak outlook on the world but eager to use his power to change it for the better. Stewart and Jordan thought him too fearful but as Green Lanterns they considered nearly everyone too fearful.

At least he had not made enemies in a week and was moral enough. Diana supposed she had been lucky with that one. He also proved the training regimen she had planned with Batman long ago for the case a young hero not affiliated with a Leaguers came to them was efficient.

She wondered how things would go with the sidekicks.