All characters, settings etc associated with Young Justice and DC, are not owned by me. I merely own that which is unfamiliar and am not making any profit off this fiction venture.
Some dialogue from Young Justice Episode 107: Denial.
Chapter Warning(s): coarse language, violence, mention of discriminatory group – Purists, parental issues
Maelstrom
Kalladura'ham
"That's the thing with magic. You've got to know it's still here, all around us, or it just stays invisible for you."
Charles de Lint
16
Mount Justice, Happy Harbor, Rhode Island : August 19 – 19:39 EDT
/ Initiate Combat Training. 3. 2. 1. /
I dart forward. Superboy does the same, having been eager for quite awhile about being able to spar with someone who wouldn't be hurt by him going all out strength-wise. I have to admit, the opportunity is something much relished by myself as well. Lately, I have been assisting M'gann with her hand-to-hand while Superboy has been working with Robin on trying to be quieter. While M'gann can take a hit, this match between Superboy and I has been a long time coming.
He moves in for a punch. I block and retaliate with a punch that he blocks. I go in for a quick kick, which he blocks before moving in for another punch. I do a back walkover, dodging the punch and making a mental note that he favours using his arms rather than his legs.
He has stopped wearing a shirt while training, after the last time he sparred with Kid Flash and he wound up being blinded by his own shirt. I recommended tights, which are much harder to use to blind people. Superboy glared at me. I may have smiled at him, feigning innocence. He rolled his eyes then so I figure we are approaching an understanding.
Now, however, I cannot grab his shirt and blind him, which is unfortunate.
I block and twist, getting behind him to kick him in the back. He catches himself on his hands and twists in a move that Robin spent ages trying to teach him. He lands on his feet and moves forward in time to block another one of my kicks. I cannot tell if it is because of his training or his speed that he has gotten better at blocking my attacks.
I grunt, catching his arm as it comes down in a move that, were we outside, would have slammed me into the ground with enough force to crack it. The floor we are standing on remains whole.
I twist so that my back is to his chest and I'm grabbing his forearm, intending on flipping him over my body. He clearly realizes what I am planning because he grabs my right arm with his free hand, slams one of his feet against the back of my left ankle and slams me down, using the grand two inches of height he has on me to his advantage. I hit the ground, hard, at his feet.
/ Fail. Aqualass. /
I look up at Superboy, blinking. He dusts off his hands, having learnt through our sparring that there is little he can do short of actually breaking one of my limbs – which is difficult to do – that will hurt me. Slamming me to the ground does not fall under that umbrella.
I smirk and he grabs my hand, pulling me up effortlessly.
"Black Canary taught me that," he explains.
"Using your height against your opponent?" I quip with a raised eyebrow because, well, while Black Canary undoubtedly has faced many shorter opponents I doubt she has been able to use it against them in such a way. She does still only have the strength of an adult human female.
"No, tripping them," he smirks.
I snort. That makes more sense.
Red Tornado descends from his apartment, inconveniently directly above the training room.
Wally darts forward immediately, "Got a mission for us?"
The Team has been anxious ever since our more investigative-dominant mission given to us by Captain Atom. Personally, I think they just want to blow something up again. Or hit something. It was a valuable mission, regardless. The Team – barring Robin – could stand to learn a bit more about investigative work and, in mine and Miss Martian's case, about surface-world crime.
"Mission assignments are the Batman's responsibility," responds Red Tornado.
"Well The Batman and The Robin are in Gotham doing the Dynamic Duo thing," Wally says. "But you're going somewhere, right? Hot date? Or a mission?"
"If we can be of help," I add, trying to soften Wally's demand.
Red Tornado turns, pulling up the details of an older man, "This is Kent Nelson. He is one-hundred-and-six years old and he has been missing for twenty-three days. Kent was a Charter member of the Justice Society, the precursor to your mentor's Justice League."
My eyes widen as Kent Nelson is replaced by the image of Doctor Fate AKA the Sorcerer Supreme. I learned about him at the Conservatory. He was an immeasurably important individual when it came to the mystic arts of the planet, but we were never told of his civilian identity. This does explain why he is 106 years old though.
"Of course," I say, the memories of time spent in class next to Tula and Garth learning about the Sorcerer Supreme running through my mind, "Nelson was Earth's Sorcerer Supreme. He was Doctor Fate!"
This is amazing.
This is really, really amazing.
Oh, my instructors will be so envious. I should probably not be as happy about that as I am.
Wally snorts and remarks softly to Artemis, "Pfft, guy knows a little advanced science and Dumbledore's it up to scare the bad guys and impress the babes."
I have a sudden urge to punch Wally.
How could he be so disrespectful? The Sorcerer Supreme is, well, The Sorcerer Supreme. He is the most important sorcerer of our time, if not the most important mystical individual of our time! I…I just…no Wally. No. Unacceptable.
I should get an autograph, or a photograph or a…something…whatever he wants, it does not matter. Just, something to bring back to Atlantis and show Tula – and Garth. Showing Tula something from the Sorcerer Supreme will impress her, right?
Oh Poseidon, wait, no. I should not be trying to use the Sorcerer Supreme to improve my love life. That's probably one of the most disrespectful things I could do. Second to what Wally is doing, that is.
"Kent may simply be on one of his…walkabouts. But he is caretaker to the Helmet of Fate, the source of the Doctor's mystic might, and it is unwise to leave such power unguarded," explains Red Tornado.
The Helmet of Fate. Are we going to be guarding the Helmet of Fate?
Oh Poseidon. Oh Poseidon. Oh Poseidon. Yes! This will be amazing!
Would it be disrespectful to take a photo of the Helmet of Fate? Poseidon, I hope not. Maybe I could submit a photo to my sorcery instructor, or to Anassa Mera, get extra credit.
That would probably be disrespectful.
Just guard it Kalla. Just do your job.
This is going to be difficult.
"He is like the great Sorcerer Priests and Priestesses on Mars," says M'gann, looking absolutely fascinated. "I would be honoured to help find him."
Wally's hand shoots up, "Me too! So honoured…I can barely stand it. Magic, rocks."
He smiles awkwardly.
Please, tell me he is not contradicting himself simply to try and impress M'gann. Please. If he is I cannot be held responsible for what I may do.
Okay, no. I just have to keep it together. Keep it together.
"Take this," Tornado holds up a gold key. "It is the key to the Tower of Fate."
I'm moving forward and grabbing it before my mind catches up. I nearly start shaking and instead rock forward on the balls of my feet, holding the key tightly.
I'm holding the key to the Tower of Fate. I can finally die happy.
This is the greatest day of my entire life!
"What are the chances we both so admire the mystic arts?" questions Wally, grinning at M'gann.
Okay.
It will be the greatest day of my entire life after Wally is quiet.
Salem, Massachusetts : August 19, 2010 – 20:21 EDT
"So, Wally," says Artemis as we're flying towards Tornado's coordinates, "when did you first realize your honest affinity for sorcery?"
I can practically taste her sarcasm. It is fantastic. Artemis is now my best friend.
"Well, I-I don't like to brag," says Wally, leaning back and completely missing her sarcasm, "but before I became Kid Flash I seriously considered becoming a wizard myself."
I stare at him for a moment, not entirely able to believe that he just said that.
You cannot just decide to wield the mystic arts. You have to be born able to wield them! If you could decide to wield them or not to wield them it would have saved my matim a fair amount of trouble if she just convinced me to not wield the mystic arts and therefore not damage my body from the inside-out.
I sigh and turn away from Wally, my grip on the key to the Tower of Fate – which I have not released since getting it, even when I changed into my civvies – tightening.
"We are reaching Tornado's coordinates now," reports M'gann, "but-"
"Nothing's there," finishes Superboy.
"Take us down," I order, highly doubting that there is nothing there.
Obviously, the Tower of Fate is magical. As such it, obviously, has some enchantments placed on it to protect it from people who are not supposed to be able to get into it.
We head out of the Bio-Ship and find ourselves standing on the edge of an apparently empty field. I scan the area, searching for something, anything, to suggest the presence of a mystical force.
My channels are tingling, but I am uncertain as to whether that is because of a large mystic force in the area or because of my anticipation. Perhaps both.
"Nothing on infrared," reports Superboy.
"I'll check it out," says Wally, pulling on his goggles. He darts away, a blur.
My grip on the key tightens, as if gripping it harder will encourage the Tower to show its secrets.
Okay. What do I know about Surface-World Mysticism? Well, I know that this is not, technically, Surface-World Magic, actually. This is Ancient Magic, neither Surface-World nor Atlantean. Therefore, what typifies Ancient Magic?
I feel as though I had an exam with the very same question on it once.
Cryptic answers run through my mind, most of which came from sorcerers themselves. Ancient Magic involves the Lords of Chaos and Order, including Doctor Fate. Ancient Magic involves the universe itself. It is what Zatara could have the option of dabbling in. It influences all of the magic that came after it, such as the most common Atlantean Magic today.
Ancient Magic came first so…the first solutions to problems were…what? Cryptic?
Riddles. Clues. You had to be clever to unlock their secrets. Learn how to think like the sorcerer who cast the enchantments. Okay, so the Tower of Fate. Focus on that. It was made by Doctor Fate, a Lord of Order. Order means rules and traditions. Order means logic. Think logically then. Logically clever.
"Nothing," reports Wally. "This isn't simple camouflage."
It never is, when the mystic arts are involved.
"So, what do you think?" asks Artemis. "Adaptive optic micro-electronics combined with phase-shifting?"
"Absolutely…not!" he says as he looks at M'gann. "Clearly," his voice squeaks and it looks physically painful for him to say it, "mystic powers are at work here!"
How do you find a tower? Or, more specifically, how do you enter a tower?
I grip the key tighter.
Tornado gave me the key for a reason. He had to have. Nelson would not have left the key with the League without a good reason. Obviously, it must be used in accessing the tower. In entering the tower. In…oh.
In unlocking the front door. Obviously.
I pull out the key and feel a flash of mystic energy. I frown, uncertain as to where it came from, and study the key for a moment. It says 'INSERT' on it. Clearly, I should be reading the instructions that go along with the instrument! Words to live by, really.
"Stand behind me," I order, stepping forward as the others step back. "A test of faith."
If anyone on this team believes in magic, it would be me, the one who actually uses it. I hope that will work to our advantage.
I move the key forward, trusting that it will find its place. Indeed, I feel resistance and, carefully, I turn it and hear something unlock. From the insertion of the key the tower forms, millions of bricks upon bricks rise to the sky as a single tower with one large wooden door twice my height. My spine tingles in anticipation and I cannot help but smirk as I push open the door.
I put the key back in my pocket and the door shuts behind the Team and I.
"Uh, where'd the door go?" asks Superboy.
I look around. We are in a windowless, doorless brick room with torches on the wall that give the room an eerie, flickering glow.
Very traditional. I suppose now there will be someone appearing that will either warn us or guide us to the next dimension within the Tower.
Garth did a project on the curses placed on ancient grounds once. He said that there were some similarities, time period to time period. Which is where the mystic clichés the Conservatory students frequently mock came about from.
A projection of Kent Nelson appears in front of me. It speaks, "Greetings. You have entered with a key but the Tower does not recognize you. Please, state your purpose and intent."
Warning it is.
I open my mouth and turn completely to face the projection to clearly show that I am not attempting to deceive the Tower.
Wally speaks first, "We are true believers here to find Doctor Fate!"
Oh no.
The Nelson projection tilts its head.
No.
The floor falls away.
Heat.
The sharp increase in temperature robs me of my breath more than the sudden fall. I feel sweat break out on my flesh and my clothing is immediately restrictive. Instinctively, I reach for the wall in an effort to not wind up being killed either by the heat itself or by sinking in lava.
Something slams against my back and a blonde ponytail obscures my vision as I twist, grabbing onto Artemis. Our feet hit the wall, her left arm clamps around my waist while her right stretches up to her crossbow, which apparently has a grappling arrow attached to it. My arms clamp around her shoulders and as soon as my heart stops leaping into my throat I consciously loosen my grip on her. She had been wincing under my grip. I may have bruised her shoulders.
"ARGH!"
Artemis and I glance down at Superboy lifting his feet out of the lava, bootless. He growls, "Those were my favourite boots. This Nelson guy better be worth it."
He is. He really is.
M'gann gasps and I look up, watching as her and Wally steadily drop while she tries to levitate both of them.
Right, she has the same weakness to heat as I do.
"Ha-having trouble maintaining altitude," she gasps, wiping her face as she continues to support Wally in the air. "I'm so hot."
My collar is getting soaked from my own sweat and breathing is getting steadily more difficult. I need water. Cold water. Now.
"You certainly are," Wally grins.
"Wally!" Artemis shouts.
"Hey! Inches above sizzling death I'm entitled to speak my mind!"
I take in a breath that nearly suffocates me. "My physiology, and M'gann's, are susceptible to extreme heat," I pause, trying to regain the ability to breathe normally, "we must climb out quickly."
Artemis' grasp on me tightens.
"Hello Megan! We never truly answered the question," M'gann says. "Red Tornado sent us," she shouts, breathing heavily, "to see if Mr. Nelson, and the Helmet, were safe!"
A brick platform forms above the lava. It removes the heat source and returns my ability to breathe normally. Artemis drops us to join Superboy on the platform, alongside M'gann and Wally.
I crouch, not feeling any heat rising from the platform to bake my toes. I press my hands against the platform and raise my eyebrows as I explain, "This platform should be red hot, but it is cool to the touch."
"Easy Megalicious, I got you-"
"Enough!" Artemis pushes Wally away form M'gann and against the wall. "Your little Impress Megan At All Costs game nearly got us all barbequed!"
"When did this become my fault?" he argues.
"When you lied to that…whatever it was and called yourself a true believer!"
"Wally," M'gann straightens, frowning, "you don't believe?"
Wally looks between the two girls then shouts, "Fine! Fine, I lied about believing in magic! But magic is the real lie – a major load!"
I grow tense at the accusation.
It wasn't as if I attended the Conservatory of Sorcery, an entire institution built around magic. It wasn't as if it was magic that resulted in my broken finger. It wasn't as if it was magic that assisted in Ocean Master's defeat. It wasn't as if it was magic used to create my artificial channels slash tattoos slash skin icons that ensured I even survived past age 6!
No, of course magic is not real.
"Wally," I force myself to remain crouched, unwilling to make him even more defensive, plus there is a break in the platform that suggests a trap door that I wish to investigate, "I studied at the Conservatory of Sorcery in Atlantis. The mystic arts created the skin icons that power my water-bearers."
And saved my life.
"Dude, you ever hear of bioelectricity?" Wally retorts, almost patronizingly. "Hey, in primitive cultures fire was once considered magical too! Today it's all just a bunch of tricks."
Was he now insinuating that Atlantis was primitive?
How tactless can you possibly get?
"You're pretty closed-minded for a guy that can break the sound barrier in his sneakers," Artemis comments.
"That's science. I recreated Flash's laboratory experiment and here I am! Everything can be explained by science."
I grit my teeth and grab the hidden handle for the trap door, "Let us test that theory."
"Wait!" Wally shouts. "The backdraft from the lava will roast us alive!"
Snowflakes fly up alongside cold air from the winter world below.
I drop into the winter world, much more comfortable in the cold than in the heat. The others follow, dropping as I did, down and then sideways thanks to how the door was positioned in the winter world.
It is indeed a winter world, filled with mountains and snow. Remarkable. I cannot help but smile, both at the cold and the obvious magic.
"Well?" Artemis asks as Wally turns away from the door as it vanishes.
"Ever hear of string theory?" Wally says. "We're in a pocket dimension."
I frown. We may be in a pocket dimension, but it was not created and maintained by science. It was created and maintained by magic, along with everything else inside the Tower.
"What's that?" asks M'gann.
We turn. My brow furrows at the sight of the cane floating in the air. Very suspicious.
"Oooo, maybe it's Nelson's magic wand," Wally mocks, darting past Artemis to grab it in the same instant as she does.
They shout in unison, "Hey! I can't let go!"
The cane glows and promptly sends them flying into the air where they vanish in a burst of yellow light.
I blink.
That was…less expected.
At least Superboy, M'gann and myself are not bothered by the cold.
"Let's go," I say, walking past them.
"Where?" Superboy asks, looking around.
"The Tower has a multitude of different worlds either within it or connected to it," I explain, battling to recall my classes. "Most are interconnected. Eventually we will find a door to get to another world, which will, hopefully, be where Wally and Artemis were transported to."
"Hopefully?"
"My knowledge of this branch of the mystic arts is minimal," I explain. "If this were an Atlantean tower I would be more help. There are patterns found in most branches of the mystic arts. The patterns change over time with the society and culture but most Atlantean ones I can pick out and understand, as well as a few of those associated with skinshifters, night creatures, or city magic."
Thank-you Chevy, Gina, Joa, Matim and Anassa.
"How many branches are there?" questions M'gann.
"Many upon many," I say. "Atlantean and Surface-World ones are two large branches, along with this sort of magic," I explain, spreading my arms to encompass the winter world, "which is ancient and not specifically Atlantean or Surface-World based. It is far too ancient to be either, as it came before both. Doctor Fate, the Sorcerer Supreme, uses this Ancient Magic, alongside with people such as Klarion, a Lord of Chaos. I use the Atlantean kind, dominantly. Zatara uses dominantly the Surface-World kind, although his range is quite large, larger than my own, so he has the potential to wield a number of other branches of the mystic arts.
"There are the branches within the primary branches, of course. Atlantean Magic can encompass the magic used by the Sirens specifically, for example, or the sorcery those at the Conservatory dominantly use, there is Combat Sorcery and Academic Sorcery, there is Shifting Sorcery – which is interconnected with the Shifting Sorcery of the Surface-World – and there is what is popularly called Dark Sorcery or Dark Magic."
"Dark Sorcery?" M'gann repeats.
"Curses and such," I explain. "Commonly used to guard the dead or sacred areas. It is not evil by its very nature, unlike that dark magic typified in the surface-world's fiction books about magic, it simply became called Dark Magic because of the beliefs of those who know little of the mystic arts, those who believed that most magic they encountered was meant to harm without cause. Which is far from correct. It was the usual people fearing what they do not understanding phenomena. Most of the magic under the so-called Dark Magic was used to protect what those who did not understand the mystic arts did not respect.
"Of course, there are also the mystic arts of the Elements, which are connected to the Ancient Mystic Arts most deeply, with different accepted traditions and procedures depending on where you are on the Surface-World or Atlantis. Elemental Mystic Arts are more common than most people think, simply because of their interconnectedness to each of the other major branches. I use a fair amount of them for manipulation of water and electricity. Zatara uses it quite a bit as well. Then there is the prevalence of the Fae, who are generally experts in Elemental Mystic Arts, as well as some of the mysticism associated with the mind."
"What sort of mind…mysticism?" questions M'gann.
"I am less well-versed in it but I believe some of it may be similar to your telepathy," I explain. "Most commonly I believe it is used to influence individuals, to affect decisions and such. In those places with a high prevalence of mysticism it is usually quite highly regulated and watched. It is also used for scrying."
"So…your tattoos are magical?"
"They are used to channel my magical energy and the magical energy of, for example, water," I explain. "So, yes, my channels are magical."
"'Channels' is the correct term?"
"Generally," I shrug. "For those with the non-visible ones at least. Mine are artificial, actually, similar to a prosthetic, because due to my human father I was not born with natural channels despite the fact that I was born with magical energy and the potential to use it. The lack of channels to assist in controlling the magical energy that was coursing through my body made the energy threaten to destroy the human, non-magical, part of my body. My mat-mother had to give me artificial channels so that my magical energy would not kill me from the inside-out. It was thought earlier on that if I gained a greater command of the mystic arts I would not have to have the channels any longer but…I do not believe that is true."
"You have to be biologically suited to using magic?" Superboy questions incredulously.
"Yes," I nod. "Which may be why magic has such a negative effect on Kryptonians. The Kryptonian physiology may be particularly ill-suited to magical energy, hence the negative effect no matter the spell or enchantment used. People like Zatara though are built with the ability to channel, distribute, and use their own magical energy and that of other creatures or objects. Which is why magical attacks have less of an effect on him, myself, or even Wonder Woman."
Superboy frowns.
Did he even know of his vulnerability to magic?
Well, he does now.
"I don't understand Wally," M'gann comments. "It's almost like he needs to believe the impossible can't happen."
"Wally…" I sigh. "He likes to know and understand things, it gives him a measure of control over what is to come. He uses his knowledge of science to explain what he cannot comprehend. To acknowledge the existence of magic would be to relinquish that last vestige of control."
"You seem to understand magic though," she objects. "You were taught in a school about it. Like how science is taught. Maybe if Wally understood how magic works he wouldn't be as…frightened of it."
"Perhaps," I acknowledge. "But there are points where magic and science intersect, both in complimentary ways and contradictory ways. Those are difficult points to bridge, especially when one has not been educated in the mystic arts while learning about science. To learn about the mystic arts after having been educated solely in the scientific fields would result in questioning the scientific fields without restraint. The same would occur were you to do the reverse. To do such a thing is exceedingly challenging and would result in a difficult paradigm shift that many would be unwilling to commit to."
M'gann falls silent and studies the ground.
Creeeeek! Fwoosh!
We look up to find snow settling around a set of stairs atop a nearby hilltop below a doorway. Without discussion we head to the stairs.
"Oof!"
The doorway opened in the tower in the middle of the air. I hit the floor face first. Superboy lands on top of me, conveniently. He gets off me, muttering an apology, and I stand as Artemis darts over to us. Wally is behind her with Kent Nelson.
Zzap!
A bolt of electricity masquerading as magic juts over our heads. I dart to the side and onto a higher platform of the ridiculously complicated Penrose stairs that encompass this entire centre of the tower.
The guy shooting at us is Abra Kadabra. He is not magical, at all. Just has some future tech he uses to pretend he is magical. It irritates me, much like Wally's comment about how he once almost decided to be a wizard. Abra Kadabra's attempted imitation of the mystic arts is an insult to those who actually practise the mystic arts and train for years in its usage.
::: He's a fake, ::: says Artemis as M'gann establishes a psychic link. ::: But the guy he was with, Klarion- :::
I cut in sharply, my eyes widening as I turn instinctively to Artemis, ::: Klarion?! We cannot- :::
"ARGH!" I scream, buckling as Abra Kadabra manages to hit me while I'm distracted.
I hit the ground, the energy crackling over me as a cage. My channels glow instinctively and I fight to refocus and send the energy away from me with some real magic.
::: You know who Klarion – Superboy! :::
I grit my teeth and try to respond to Artemis' half-finished question. It does not work.
I feel the psychic link go down as Artemis is hit and soon after M'gann is as well.
It hurts. Poseidon, it hurts.
Then, it's gone. I stand quickly ignoring my aching muscles, and find Abra Kadabra wide-eyed and standing there in nothing but his briefs.
"Show's over," says Superboy and promptly punches him, knocking him out.
"Is everyone well?" I question, glancing back at the girls.
They nod.
"You know about Klarion?" asks Artemis.
"I studied at the Conservatory of Sorcery," I answer. "The Lords of Chaos and Order were important figures. Klarion is a Lord of Chaos. He is…beyond powerful."
"Lord of Order is Doctor Fate."
I nod in confirmation, "The Helmet of Fate is where Doctor Fate – Nabu as he is referred to in the old scriptures – resides. When one puts on the Helmet he or she becomes a host for Nabu. That is how Nabu remains in this dimension, as Doctor Fate and the Sorcerer Supreme. The Kent Nelson version of Doctor Fate was who my class focused on when we were studying them."
"That's great," says Superboy, clearly not particularly interested. "How do we get out of here?"
I hesitate and turn, studying the Penrose Stairs around us. I point, "The bell."
M'gann grabs Artemis and they fly up to the bell. Superboy and I jump.
"Do we just…ring it?" asks Superboy.
"You don't," I say, stepping toward the bell and sending energy down my channels, causing them to light up. I press my hand to the bell and send a blast of my own mystic energy into it, asking the bell to prompt the Tower to release my Team and Kent.
Thank Poseidon it listens. The Tower vanishes and my hand touches nothing while the three others stand behind me on the grass.
"Wally!" M'gann exclaims.
I turn. Wally is kneeling next to Kent Nelson with the Helmet of Fate beside him. He looks up sharply, his eyes wide, "What? Where'd the Tower go?"
"I asked it to release us," I answer, striding toward him.
"You…asked a building…" Wally trails off as I crouch across from him next to Nelson.
I search for Nelson's pulse and find nothing. I lick my lips, struggling to find the best reaction to the death of one of the most important mystical figures of our time.
"He…stayed in the Helmet," Wally explains anxiously. "So that Nabu didn't keep me."
My eyes flick to Wally. I nod in understanding. He seems to relax slightly at my understanding and subtly leans away from the Helmet.
Nelson then is not so much dead as in a coma, seeing as his lifeforce and consciousness are in the Helmet now rather than his body. Somehow, that does not seem much better.
I grab the Helmet and determine, "We will bring Nelson to the Cave, and the Helmet. It must be protected."
This is not how I had thought this mission would go.
Mount Justice, Happy Harbor, Rhode Island : August 20, 2010 – 03:40 EDT
I sit in my bedroom, staring at the tablet, trying to will the mission report to just spontaneously appear upon it.
Nelson is, for all intents and purposes, gone. Doctor Fate is gone. The Sorcerer Supreme was defeated by Klarion, a Lord of Chaos. Klarion knows of this Team. I have heard of his exploits and I am far from happy about him knowing of the Team for that reason. He is dangerous.
Wally, of all people, wound up playing the part of Doctor Fate for a bit. It is good that he was not trapped in that part, he would not have enjoyed it I bet – not that I really know what occurred when he put on the Helmet, as he has not told anyone yet – but…why him?
Selfishly, I would have preferred it to be me. I am, after all, the mystical member of this team. Not that it helped much, on our most magical heavy mission yet but I think my point still stands.
The man who was the most important mystical individual of my time…is gone.
It is surreal.
Nabu is still around, of course, but…it is not the same.
I want to know what happened to Wally while he was inside the Helmet. I really want to know. Perhaps Batman will find out and then tell me. It would be valuable information for me to have, surely, as team leader. Right? Maybe?
Probably not.
I swallow and pull up my old notes on Doctor Fate. I always keep my old notes. Who knows when they will come in handy?
These notes serve only to remind me of Atlantis and how, not exactly terribly, but unsatisfactorily this most recent mission went.
I switch to my matim's most recent email, which may help distract me from the Doctor Fate incident. I hope.
oOoOo
Sender: sla_jc
Date: Wed, 18 August 2010 12:02:16 -0200
From: Sha'lain'a D
Organization: Angelia Graphikos
To: knightlight
Subject: Morning Gossip
Kalla,
Things are going well here in Shayeris. Your patera has being doing a few interesting jobs for the local government, trying to break past their system's blockades mostly, and he's enjoying it. The new hires are doing well and although something about Coci does still seem off she is an absolute delight!
There was some interesting gossip this morning though. A man came by searching for a gift for his husband, they had just moved here from Poseidonis. He mentioned that he was very glad they had chosen to move when they did. His reason was very intriguing. They lived by the Conservatory and apparently they had witnessed some growing altercations between "impure" students and "pure" students. They think there may be some growing Purist influence in the Conservatory. More than what you saw. I'm glad you're not going there anymore, but I am concerned for your friends. Tula and Garth should be fine, but that Lori – I love her just from your descriptions, she sounds so determined – and your two adorable little fans, Topo and La'gaan, won't be so lucky I think.
You know I do not wish to put more on your plate right now. I know this leadership thing must be difficult for you, it's such a change from what you're used to, and being away from Atlantis for so long must be taking its toll. But, if the rumors are true then Poseidonis may be in for some trouble from the Purists.
Do not worry about informing Orin or Mera. I am going to email them about the rumors right after I send this one to you, but I wanted you to know about the possibility.
Your patera and I miss you, come visit when you get a chance! And remember to take care of yourself!
Hugs and kisses!
Matim
oOoOo
Knock. Knock.
"Come in," I call.
Superboy walks into my room.
"Superboy, what can I do for you?" I ask cheerfully.
"Wondered if you wanted to spar," he says with a shrug.
"Once and a mission wasn't enough for you?" I chuckle. I do not particularly wish to spar right now. I am getting tired. The adrenaline from the mission is wearing off.
He shrugs.
I frown, sensing there's something else at play here, "Is it the mission? Nelson?"
There's a twitch.
"He is not, technically, dead," I explain.
"He's in the Helmet, what's the difference?" asks Superboy bitterly.
"The difference is that there is a chance of his consciousness returning to his body. It is minimal, considering his age, but it remains there. Sometimes, one must hold onto such hope, no matter how minimal," I say.
Superboy frowns.
"I admit, it is easier to treat him as dead," I sigh. "And it is difficult to lose someone during a mission. But, in many situations such as this, the person we lost knew what the risks were when they got involved. They made their choice."
"Stupid choice."
"Not necessarily. If Nelson did not make the choice he did, we would likely have Wally as the new Doctor Fate."
"He doesn't even believe in magic."
"I know."
Superboy snorts, "Yeah, that'd be bad. Who else could become Doctor Fate though?"
"Someone who has an affinity for the mystic arts and believes in them, would be ideal," I say.
"So you?"
"Yes."
He's silent for a moment, "You would become Doctor Fate?"
"If I had to, yes."
"Not for awhile though."
"I would like to get past my teens before I dedicate my life to being Doctor Fate, yes," I agree.
"I didn't know I was vulnerable to magic," he adds. "I knew about kryptonite but not that."
I remain silent, sensing his need for it.
"Do you think there's other stuff I don't know about being a Kryptonian? Like…when I'll be able to fly, or something?"
"Perhaps," I answer honestly.
"Superman isn't going to tell me, is he?"
"It is unlikely at this point in time," I admit. "The Team will help in anyway they can though."
"Okay." He hesitates, "You've spoken to Superman, right?"
I nod silently.
"There a reason for…this?" he asks, gesturing nowhere in particular.
For a moment, I do not respond, instead silently trying to find the right response. I sigh, "I could say that it is the surprise and the shock that comes from the violation of his body but…I honestly do not know. I do not know how I would react to being cloned. I do not know how I would react to any of this." I set the tablet to the side and rise from my bed, "I do know, however, that wishing for him to come and be a mentor to you may result in missing what is right in front of you."
He frowns, but does not pull away, surprisingly. Instead, he asks, "What do you mean?"
"I mean just because you have Superman's DNA does not mean that he is your only possible mentor or parental-figure. There are other people, and if Superman is not going to step up then maybe one of them should and perhaps that person just needs a little prompting from the person they would be mentoring."
"Who'd want to mentor the angry superstrong clone of the 'Greatest Superhero'?" he scoffs.
"I would."
Abashed surprise crosses his face then he looks at the ground in embarrassment. Yes, he should have realized that was what I was going to say.
"Look," I say, putting my hands on my hips.
He looks up sharply, his eyes widening slightly at my abrupt change in tone.
"I can help you with the superstrength," I continue. "I can help teach you how to use it to your advantage and how it can and will be used against you. I can help you with Earth's various cultures. I'm not your mother though-"
He snorts.
I smirk, "I can't be that type of mentor, but there are people frequently in the Cave who would slide into that role if you just let them."
He frowns and crosses his arms, "Batman has-"
"Black Canary. Red Tornado. Take your pick."
He blinks, "Oh."
I raise my eyebrows, feeling rather satisfied with myself, and pat his shoulder, "It'll work out Superboy. Besides, I know that Pansy's Dad still considers you one of his kids. Contacting him is always an option, and my parents' offer is still open."
"Superboy, there you are!" exclaims M'gann happily, pausing in the doorway of my room with Wally hovering behind her.
Last I checked my bedroom was not the centre of the Cave.
"Thank-you for telling me about Pansy wanting a reply to her email, Superboy," I say. "I really should check my email more often."
"Uh, yeah, no problem," he responds, walking out of my room.
"Have you ever been to a magic show?" M'gann asks Superboy.
"Uh, no?" says Superboy.
"Wally got tickets!"
"I thought you hated magic," I say, looking at Wally.
He shoots a glare at me, clearly well aware of my petty attempt to sabotage his attempt to woo M'gann, "I don't hate it. I just think the glowing stuff is overdone."
"I appreciate that," I say dryly.
"But Kalla glows…" points out M'gann.
"He knows," I say, still focusing on Wally.
Wally shrugs, "Lots of creatures glow, you know, like glowworms. Bioluminescence. It's for communication, camouflage, stuff like that."
"Mine is artificial."
"Scientists made monkeys glow."
"Yes, but that glowing was not triggered by mystical energy," I point out.
"Because 'mystical energy' isn't real. It's just an explanation made by primitive cultures to explain something they can't understand."
"Please stop calling Atlantis primitive," I request as M'gann and Superboy quickly dart away from our argument.
"I'm not calling Atlantis primitive."
"Atlantean culture is based around science and magic. You are calling those cultures that use magic 'primitive'. How else am I supposed to take that?"
"Okay, yeah, there's that, but you even said that a lot of Atlantis is based around science. It's not primitive, just…misinformed, I guess."
"Misinformed."
He blanches, presumably from my expression, and comments, "I'm digging a hole for myself aren't I?"
I grab his wrist, "Come on, Wally."
"What? Where are we going? Hey, where'd M'gann go?"
"We are going to the library where I will show you the collection of Atlantean works on magic and how it works, so that, when you decide to call the mystic arts a bunch of lies you will be educated when doing so. M'gann left."
"But I don't-"
"Team-building exercise."
"Without the rest of the team?"
"Yes."
"But I need sleep!"
"You were chasing after M'gann not five minutes ago, Wally."
"Yeah, to make sure she knew about the magic show tomorrow!"
"And I am making sure that you cease insulting my people and myself."
"Okay, okay, okay!"
I release him. He holds up his hands in the universal declaration of peace, palms facing me.
"Okay, I was stupid," he says.
"It does not matter to me whether you believe in magic or not," I sigh, crossing my arms. "What does bother me is when you equate believing in it with being stupid or primitive and in doing so call not only my people but myself, stupid and primitive."
"Okay, I'm sorry you took it that way."
"That is not an apology on behalf of your actions, Wally. That is an apology for my interpretation of them," I sigh, rubbing the bridge of my nose.
"Oh. Uh, then I'm sorry I said that stuff?"
"For future reference, an apology should not be a question."
"Uh, right, sorry." He looks at his wrist, "I think you bruised my wrist."
"Apologies, I did not intend..." I stop, realizing I am doing what I told Wally not to do. I shake my head, "Apologies. I should have watched my strength. I can bandage that if you wish."
"No, I've got it. I'll be quicker." He rubs his wrist uncomfortably, "What was with that, anyway? I mean, I get that I disrespected your culture and stuff but you're not – you've never been angry like that, ever."
"I am tired," I say. "My patience lessens when I am tired. Apologies."
He doesn't look entirely convinced, which is not surprising as it is more my stress than simply my exhaustion that has contributed to my lesser temper.
"You should get some sleep," I say. "You are in school, after all."
"Ugh, don't remind me," he huffs.
"Wrap that," I remind him as he walks past me.
"Yeah, got it Mom," he retorts before darting off.
I grimace at the term 'mom'.
I trudge back to my bedroom, turn off my tablet, and move it to my desk. My clock says it is 4 in the morning. I groan and stare at the books covering my bed.
"I am sleeping in the pool," I explain as I pass Superboy and M'gann in the living room, neither of whom require much sleep – Kryptonian, Martian – and are clearly taking advantage of that fact.
M'gann chirps an acknowledgement.
I fall into the pool, momentarily silently whine about the lack of a bed or a pod to sleep in, and then fall asleep at the bottom of it. It becomes one of the better rests I've had in awhile despite the lack of material comforts. Dreaming of Tula, I have no doubt, contributed to that well-rested feeling.
A/N: I really needed some Kalla & Wally bonding time but Kaldur & Wally in the show have about two conversations where it's just the two of them so I am pulling scenarios out of a hat. They're so different which makes getting them in the same room, let alone talking very difficult. Their friendship will be slow developing, to say the least.
Coci shall return in the next Sha'lain'a chapter.
Early this month I wrote ahead with this story by about 5-ish chapters, hence the quick updates. I know next semester I will have very little time for anything besides school and applying for internships so I'm trying to do as much as I can now, when I have free time. We'll see how that goes.
R&R