Raven gazed down at the wrinkled and greying flesh of her twisted reflection. Flanked by Garfield and Jericho, she trembled, caught between fear and rage. This being, this thing - she didn't know what to call it - was it part of her? Or was it something else? Did it even have a name?

Jericho inhaled sharply, then turned to spit into the darkness. Even in the half-light of the camp fire, the saliva had a tinge of pink to it.

"Sebastian tells me that she won't be down for long," he said, his voice flat and empty of feeling. "Even in her weakened state, she is still dangerous to us."

Gar asked, "How long does he think we have?"

"Maybe an hour."

Gar rested a hand on Raven's shoulder. "Any idea of what we should do with her?" He squinted at the rapidly aging body. "If she even survives this?"

Raven shook her head. "I have no idea. I don't know-"

"We should slay her now, and be done with it," Sian said. "While we still can."

"No," Raven said. "That is not our way."

Slade knelt beside the fallen demon and confirmed her bonds were tight. "Don't know how these will hold if she gets her strength back." He looked up at them. "And while that is usually my way, this time I agree with Raven. This one's been dead before. We need a way for her to not come back this time."

"As you wish, my lady," Sian said. "But it's time. If you hear my tale, perhaps we can find an answer in the telling."

"Babe," Gar said, "I think she's right. This can't go on. You need to be free of her. Really free."

She leaned into him and whispered so only he could hear. "Why am I so afraid?"

A familiar, ghostly voice floated by her ear. "Because you're afraid your young buck will run away when he hears your story."

She blinked and glanced behind the group clustered around the crumpled demon. A spirit hovered there, in the form of a young Thunder Horse.

He winked at her and said, "No, you're not dreaming this time. Turn back around. They'll wonder what you're looking at."

Gar kissed her forehead and whispered back. "We've been through so much together, Raven. There's nothing Sian can say that could scare me off."

"We're not afraid of what she'll say, Raven," Victor said, and there were murmurs of agreement from the others.

"We're your family," added Karen.

"Told you," Thunder Horse said. "I mean, really, how much worse could this lady's story be than what you've already lived? Who knows, maybe it will be an improvement."

She pretended to clear her throat to choke back a laugh. She finally nodded at Sian. "All right," she said. "It's time."

Slade said, "Someone needs to keep an eye on this one while you talk." He motioned to Charlie to join him. "Chuck."

"Slade," Charlie replied with a curt nod.

As Charlie circled around to him, Slade muttered out of the side of his mouth, "Created any super-soldiers lately? What are you up to now, Compound 42? How's your grandpa?"

Charlie smirked. "How's the eye?"

"Settle down, you two," Thunder Horse grunted, fully aware they could not hear him. "It's story time."

With the two former soldiers checking the demon's bonds, the rest of them settled back around the fire, various age-appropriate beverages ready at hand, while still keeping a wary eye on their prisoner. Jericho sat next to her, opposite Gar. Thunder Horse's incorporeal form managed to squeeze comfortably into the space between Raven and the pale young man.

Thunder Horse grinned at her. "This ought to be interesting, eh, Dawn Child? Wish I had some popcorn. I love a good story."

Sian cleared her throat and began. "To tell your story, my lady, I must begin with another, larger tale: the history of the Celestial Cities, the Sacred Cities of Fire, scattered across the heavens."

Superboy frowned. "Heavens? As in aliens?"

Sian shook her head. "No. They came from Earth, many centuries ago. A people in a northern land, a land of emerald green hills. The people of the goddess Danu, known in your legends as the Tuatha Dé Danann."

"Tuatha Dé?" Bart asked. "You mean like the fairies? The Irish ones? I read about them-"

"Let the lady talk, Bart," Vic growled.

"Yes, young Bart," Sian continued. "In Ireland there once lived a people of great power and majesty. They ruled that land until it was invaded by another people, the Milesians."

Bart asked, "They were the ancestors of the modern Irish, right?"

Sian nodded. "The children of Danu were powerful, but few, and the Milesians were many. The invaders overwhelmed them with sheer numbers, driving them to see more peaceful lands. Now, the Tuatha Dé possessed knowledge, both ancient and secret, of many things that have since been lost. They slipped through the veil between the worlds and found a new home, in a fertile land watered by a tranquil river. Not just another world you could reach by ship. It was on another plane of existence entirely, where their enemies - who had no such knowledge - would never trouble them again."

Raven had never heard about any of this. As far as anyone in Azarath had ever told her, nothing really important had happened before they appeared, as if by magic, fully formed, led by their Azar. "Was my teacher among them?"

"No, my lady. At least not at that time. She had not yet been born. Her mother's mother had not been born yet, this was so long ago. And they had not yet heard the name of the original goddess Azar nor met her children. But in their new place they founded a great city, Nuada, named after one of their kings. They dwelt in peace, returning to their home world from time to time, searching for others like them, others that were hunted or persecuted. Many found shelter in Nuada. Many centuries passed this way. Then, over a thousand and yet half another thousand years ago, they took in a group of the children of Zoroaster, an ancient religion from your desert regions -"

"Persia?" Bart piped in. "In the Middle East, guys. That faith's been around for ages. Still is. Freddie Mercury's family was Zoroastrian, Raven!" He turned to Sian and pointed at Raven. "She's a fan," he explained.

Raven could not help but smile at him. Well, he was not wrong. "Not all of them went to Nuada, then."

"Correct, only a portion. But enough to swell the population of Nuada. They mingled with the peoples already there. Over the centuries, their cultures blended-"

Bart snapped his fingers. "So that's why your name is Irish, but your title isn't! And that leader's name… what was it, Raven?"

"Coman."

"Yeah, Coman. That's Irish, too."

"Arella," Slade Wilson said slowly from the other side of the fire. He rubbed his chin, and Raven sensed he was remembering the time he had spent with her mother looking for her missing teammates, looking for her, only to find that she was dead. Raven winced at the memory. She watched his face as he ruminated. "The name they gave to your mother, Raven. That's Hebrew, isn't it? I always wondered about that."

"A wide range of people came together in the cities."

Bart squinted in thought. "So, Azar's from the Zoroastrian side of the family, am I right?"

"Yes, though as you can see, the name has taken on a rather different meaning since then. They had many children, and the city of Nuada grew. Another city, Azar Mehr, meaning Mithra's Fire, was founded across the river to accommodate the expanding population. It, too, grew until it crossed the river and swallowed the land about Nuada, until the original city became just an ancient quarter of Azar Mehr. In time, even this new city burst at the seams. Colonists searched out space for a daughter settlement in yet another dimension. Carrying embers of Mehr's sacred fire with them, they called the new city Azar Borzin, the Fire of the High."

She stole a sip of water from a canteen and continued. "The cities maintained their ties as people moved easily about with their magical knowledge. The Universe is both crowded and lonely, and they needed one another. They both grew, and grew again, and over time five more cities were founded with Mehr's holy flames: Azar Bahram, the Fire of Victory; Azar Khorin, the Rule of the Sun; Azar Abteen, the Fire of Glory; Azar Zartusht, the Fire of Zoroaster. And then, my lady, there is our city, Azar Noush, the most beautiful of all, with its Fire of Sweetness and Healing."

At the word healing, Gar stirred next to her. "That explains a lot," he whispered to her as he squeezed her hand.

She squeezed back and asked, "And Azarath? It was not among the seven?"

"No. It came still later. Every land has its dangers, and its enemies. The Celestial Cities were no exception. After several attacks from other worlds -"

"From Earth?" Slade asked. "Or others?"

"Others. We formed a league of protectors, the Azars, named after the goddess of Fire, one for each city. Each one commanded troops to protect their own realm or to go to the aid of the others. The Azars were like generals, fierce and wise, giving over their entire lives, even their very names, to the safety of the Celestial Cities."

Raven glanced at Gar, who shrugged at her; he had no idea what to say, either, though it seemed like her he sensed what strange news was coming. Raven chewed her lip before speaking again. "So that is how you became Azar Noush. But what about my Azar? You speak of warriors, but Azarath believed in peace."

"You, too, were Azar Noush, my lady. The Azar that you knew… came from a line of Azars of a different sort. Yes, Azarath believed in peace. Fanatically so, from their very founding. Since the Azars came together, there has been an undercurrent of resistance to the use of violence in our defense. They would not train with weapons. They would not learn strategy or the weaknesses of our enemies. They refused to fight at all!"

"That jives with what I remember of Azarath," Cyborg said. "Were they all over the place, or just one city?"

"There were pockets of them in each city, and finally one day they joined together and founded one of their own. This one was on Earth, they said, but not quite a part of Earth. One could walk every inch of this world and never find it. Azar Ath, they called it, the Flame of the Earth."

Raven said, "So… Azarath. They never told me the name's true meaning."

"They didn't tell you a lot of things," Gar said.

Sian narrowed her eyes, and her voice turned harsh and angry. "This happened in the time of your mentor's grandmother. She was their first Azar. Only she was not a general. She was high priestess to a cult of fanatics. They isolated themselves, pretending they were the only holy city and that their Azar was not only the sole Azar, but that she was the actual goddess. She passed on the name and title to her daughter, and then that one passed it on to the one you called Teacher."

As Raven tried to absorb this flood of history, she noticed Slade studying his son next to him, his son who was trapped in the body of a demonic disciple. "Where does Trigon fit into all of this? How did he and Azar tangle in the first place?"

"The priestesses of my city could say it better, but I will tell you what little I know. This is not the only universe. Indeed, there are universes beyond count, with new ones being born all the time. At the birth of Trigon's universe, a primordial energy lingered long after its planets and suns coalesced. When sentient beings emerged there, that energy fed on the darkness in their souls, forming a sentience of its own."

She took another, longer drink from the canteen. "But that force could only accomplish so much in that form, so he took possession of a body, displacing its resident soul. From there he leapt from body to body and form to form over thousands of years. He sired many children, keeping them in readiness for his next possession. He often did this to escape his enemies, who were legion, or to increase his power. The children were conduits for that ancient energy, having no will or soul of their own. He was known by many names on many worlds before taking on the name of Trigon. All the while, the Celestial Cities were founded across multiple dimensions, including Azar Abteen, in Trigon's dimension."

"Is that where my Azar was born?" Raven asked.

"Her grandmother was born in that dimension, on a planet then unknown to the Celestial Cities. Her original name is lost, as are the names of all Azars. She lived on a world of sorcery and magic. A world that was dying, ravaged by wizards' wars over the centuries. This woman was a powerful sorceress herself, with deep knowledge of magic concerning the soul: soul magic. A league of wizards on that world, desperate to prevent its destruction, conducted a ritual to conjure forth the primordial demon. He mated with one of their members. She conceived a child, one that they hoped would reverse the centuries of arcane damage and save them from themselves."

The limp lump of flesh between Charlie and Slade stirred and whimpered at that. Slade confirmed her bonds were secure and nodded at Sian to continue.

"When the child was born, the primordial demon came forth in him in the guise of Trigon. He was no ordinary infant; he was fully conscious and able to act. He slew all around him, including his own mother. Within a year he had conquered the rest of that world, and within six years, he had destroyed it."

"So he had a head start in the Bad Guy Business," said Bart.

"Sounds like an overachiever," Superboy observed. Cassie punched him in the bicep for that.

"The sorceress fled that world just before it was destroyed. Taking refugees with her, she came upon Azar Abteen, and they sought refuge there. Hungry for revenge against her enemy, she joined Abteen's forces. Eventually she became that city's Azar. Trigon's ravages continued, and soon the entire dimension was consumed. The people of Azar Abteen realized they could not survive there, so they fled that dimension and rebuilt the city elsewhere."

"Busy guy," Slade muttered as he watched their captive twitch, as if caught in the web of a bad dream.

"That Azar bore a daughter, and she, too rose to be Azar in the rebuilt city. She, too, hunted Trigon, to the dismay of the peoples of the Celestial Cities, for her quest to destroy Trigon made them a target. Gathering a restless undercurrent of pacifistic fanatics about her, she left Azar Abteen behind and founded Azar Ath, meaning Azar of Earth. It was on Earth, yet not, just a dimensional hop away from Manhattan."

Raven took a deep breath, remembering her first lesson in traversing the dimensions.

Gar glanced at her. "No wonder you ended up in New York."

Sian licked her lips and continued. "This Azar was still a member of the council of Azars, though, and she met with them from time to time. She had a daughter with another of the Azars."

"With another Azar?" Bart asked. "There were men, too?"

"Why not? That daughter became the Azar of Azar Ath upon her death. That one was my lady's teacher."

Raven's lips twitched as more memories of her mentor surfaced. She wondered if Coman had ever told her mother any of this. Why had Azar not told her? Did she just die too soon?

"Now, the people of the grandmother's original homeworld were as powerful and magical as the Tuatha Dé. Remember their soul magic? The grandmother possessed this knowledge, along with a pair of rings that served as soul mediums, called soul catchers. They were forged on her original homeworld and are detailed in the Book of Azar, which she began and passed down to her daughter."

"What else could this magic do?" asked Charlie.

"Expunge evil passions - lust, greed, and rage - from souls. These energies were not destroyed; instead they found their way to the primordial evil, whose current guise was Trigon. The passions remembered their source, and the cleansed source could locate and control its darker energies, even destroy the destination shell."

"Isn't that what they ended up doing?" Cyborg asked.

Raven shrugged. Trying to remember that last battle against her father, so long ago, was agonizing. "I believe so. I do not remember much of what happened then."

Gar said, "Well, you did have a bout of amnesia for a long time after that. And we didn't know that until we found you, when Brother Blood tried to, you know…" He shot a quick look at Jericho's pale face, then looked away. "Well, the old Blood, anyway, not this one."

Cyborg added, "I think that big battle with Trigon is a blur for all of us."

"All of us," added Slade. "So that's what happened. How did the rings work?"

"Complete souls could be transferred from bodies into the rings, and from the rings to new bodies. If one knew the rituals, of course."

"Could the old body hang around?" Charlie asked. "Say, in a coma?"

Bart asked, "Or suspended animation? You are high-tech, right?"

"No. The body cannot survive without the soul for long. They could also separate body and soul, but only for a very short while. I am sure that your mentor taught you that much, my lady."

"Yes."

"The rings and the knowledge of how to use them were secret, known only to this line of Azars. Azar Ath devised a plan to destroy and ancient evil now known as Trigon, based on this magic. Trigon was attempting to spawn children to carry on his dark legacy, this time on Earth. But Trigon had many enemies, more than just Azar, and often those enemies slew these children at birth… that is, if their own mothers did not slay them first. Azar decided to save, then use, such a child against him."

Raven willed her eyes to not watch the more frequent spasms of emotion pulsing out of her dark double. She was still weak and groggy, but Raven could feel that her mental fog was not going to last. For once, she was glad that Slade was there.

"She needed to shape how that child came about. She needed a powerful bloodline and a powerful soul, not necessarily in one person. The soul would be able to destroy Trigon's power as he tried to use the body of the child." She jutted her chin in their captive's direction. "Azar visited Earth often, finding places of power, searching for such a bloodline. She left signs behind, including the glyphs in the now-destroyed cave in Twilight Canyon. She left her plan there, in code…"

"A plan we saw, Dawn Child," Charlie said. "Before the cave collapsed."

"He is right," added Thunder Horse. "That cave. But I found it first, when I was a young buck. The signs on the wall kept calling me back."

"It was found by a young man, long ago, one rich in power already."

"Told you," Thunder Horse said.

"His bloodline was chosen by the magic waiting there, chosen for the empathic abilities that he possessed and passed on to his descendants."

"To me," Charlie whispered. Then, louder, as he looked at Raven, "To Angela. To my family."

Raven nodded at him. "Then to me."

"Not a prophecy, then," Slade said. "Just a desperate plan."

"Desperate, indeed. At the same time, she needed a soul that would understand the situation and the magic involved. She did not have the perfect candidate. She could not do it herself, for she had to be the one to conduct the rituals to transfer the souls. She had to wait for someone else."

A low moan scraped against Raven's ears just as she saw Slade leaning over the trembling form next to him.

"Raven," he asked, "is she waking up?"

Thunder Horse's ghostly form slipped through the flames of the fire and leaned over the woman, unseen by either his grandson or the mercenary. He touched her forehead gently with incorporeal fingers, whispering soothing words that Raven could not quite hear.

"Most definitely," he said to Raven. "And she's most definitely not happy. Your friend had better get to the point."

"Yes," she replied as she gripped Gar's hand. She could sense the rising tide of fury as the demon listened in. Would she regain her strength, as she regained her consciousness? Jericho was watching her, too, but said nothing. They were no closer to any sort of plan."We had better hurry."

"This Azar's own mother had taken the initial steps by founding Azarath and purging its citizens of evil, evil which found its way to Trigon. But a piece was missing: the soul. Over the years of planning and scheming, Azar met with the council of Azars of the Celestial Cities. She was the only person to come and go from Azarath."

Another piece of the puzzle clicked into place in Raven's mind. "So that is why she had the armor, the armor in which she was buried. It was their armor."

"Yes. The other Azarathians were isolationists that cared not for the rest of the universe. I believe they lost some of that concern when their evil natures were purged."

Bart said, "Kind of like good Kirk without evil Kirk in Star Trek. So non-aggressive, he couldn't find his way out of a Jefferies tube."

Gar whispered, "We had a good captain / evil captain story on Space Trek, too. Same results."

"On one of her visits to the council, Azar had a liaison with another general - as her mother had done - and conceived a child."

Raven frowned. "It was long said that she had no children of her own. That she… she was the last of her line."

"But she was not. She had long wanted a daughter of her own to carry on her legacy. But she could not care for her in Azarath, where the people expected their leader to not have any personal attachments. She stayed longer than usual, going to Azar Noush with her lover to have the child. She left the child with him to raise."

"Did the others know about her?" Raven asked. She shivered, barely daring to guess what this stranger would say next. Azar had had a daughter? One who had vanished from history? "They all said-"

"I would not know. I know that the father, too, was Azar Noush. But he loved his daughter well, and trained her as a warrior. She did know her mother, though, and saw her whenever she returned for Councils. That was when the secrets of soul magic - the rings, the soulscapes - was passed along. But only to keep the knowledge alive. Azar had never intended for her beloved daughter to carry out her plan. Fate had other ideas."

"Fate," growled a voice, almost too weak to hear above the crackling flames of the campfire. "Is that what you call it?"