Author's Note: I received reviews asking to elaborate on the little blip of the past that I put in the last chapter and also saying that it was confusing. It dealed with Raven's mother and aunt, and her aunt told a prophecy. I, personally, thought it was prophesied pretty clearly, but who knows. I'll let the reader try to decipher it if it's that hard. :-) This entire chapter is basically set in various stages in the past and on Azarath, and I'm not going to bother using italics but it may confuse you. Sorry if it does! But let me warn you… I know like nothing about the Raven from the comics, so don't spazz if I get something "wrong". Alright… on we go. :-)
Oh, and Guardian Hunter, thanks for the advice. Great idea. :-)
Chapter 9: Azarath
After Prophecy Scene"No, Dona, no. It is not her! I cannot be!" She protested. Dona only smiled sadly and looked toward the door, where the tiny face still stared, transfixed, at her mother and aunt. The little girl gasped when she realized her aunt had spotted her, and scampered away, soft footprints making dull thuds on the temple floor.
Dona looked to her sister.
"Arella, you know that there is nothing I can do. The powers at work merely use me as their outlet, their voice, to give the ignorant tastes of wisdom in the form of things to come." She sighed. She sat cross-legged on the smooth wooden floor and gestured theatrically as she spoke to the tall-beamed ceilings.
Arella scowled at her and shook her head violently; her short purple locks ruffled though they came only just past her chin.
"Sister, you are gifted with the Sight. You know of many things that we others could not dream of. But please tell me, Dona, please, that this is not my daughter."
Dona looked away.
"She will have enough hardship in her life as it is! Why must she deal with yet another?" Arella cried, moving to stand in her agitation before breathing deeply and forcing herself to relax.
"I am merely the outlet. I am merely the voice. I cannot change it and I do not try." Dona said softly.
"But my child!" Arella proclaimed, but she knew it was hopeless and her voice lacked its former faith.
Dona sighed and stood. She smoothed the creases in her black silk robe, fixing the Chakra jewel that glinted emerald at her neck and running her hands through her thick mane of ebony tresses. She held out a hand to help her sister up, but Arella ignored it and got up on her own, mimicking her sister's actions of straightening her robe and jewel, both of which were a deep turquoise hue.
Dona reached down and picked up the prophecy. She held the orb up in the dim orange glow of the room and watched the light reflect off its pearly contents. The liquid lapped at the inside of the glass ball gently.
"Arella," Dona began, holding out the prophecy. "There are three main types of prophecies in divination. Oraculum Tres Tria." She stopped, and Arella quietly motioned for her to continue.
"All prophecies are classified by a color. This is no exception for the Three Oracles. The first is Malum, or Evil and Misfortune, and covets its own deep red hue. It foretells horrible futures; deaths of millions, ruined planets, and even, strangely, heartache. The second is Tripudium, or Joy and Rejoicing. The futures it describes are ones of great happiness and love, embraced by the color blue, the more vibrant the more joyous. Third is the most rare, called Vicissitudo." She paused meaningfully.
"Alteration," Arella whispered, her brown eyes full of dread. "Change."
"Yes." Dona said grimly. She held out her prediction, which gleamed rainbow colors as its pearly fluid reflected the glow from nearby candles. Inside the glass, the liquid seemed to glow on its own, luminous in subtle ways that required a second look to notice. "The Revolutionary foretelling. Something historic, epic, incredible, will take place. But this is a variety with more than one meaning. Malum and Tripudium are simple. Vicissitudo comes with great promises and great tragedies. It is uncertain what may be lost in the effort to make such a grand future come to pass. Places, worlds, lives…"
Arella sucked in a breath. Dona held up a hand to quell anything her sister had to say and continued.
"Arella, do not despair. If your daughter is indeed the child in the prophecy, she must undergo good and bad. But this child is the hope, and her child is the hope, and with hope comes brighter things."
She placed her hand on her sister's forearm reassuringly, then stepped back, holding the prophecy delicately.
"Now," She said as the two walked toward the exit. "I must deliver these words to the Oraculum building. Do you wish to accompany me?"
Arella shook her head.
"No, thank you, Dona," She answered. "I must find my daughter. I will not reveal your prophecy to her, but I can't allow her to run around Dorcha Temple alone. See you soon."
Dona and Arella parted ways, turning down different corridors of Dorcha Temple. Arella walked down the darkened mahogany hallways. The walls were adorned simply with earthen relics. Candles hung upon the wall flickered brightly next to burning incense. The calming herbal aromas soothed her as she walked. She peeked into each room she passed, viewing meditating Azarathians but not her violet-eyed child. She had just turned onto another hallway when she bumped into the very person she had been searching for.
"Raven!" She cried, kneeling next to her five year old and embracing the girl. "I was starting to worry."
"Sorry, Mother," The young Raven mumbled. Her long purple locks swept in front of her matching eyes as she looked down.
Arella laughed and scooped her up.
"No need to apologize, child." She said. Her laugh was like a chime, subdued but sweet, with a tinkling resonance. Little did she know, her daughter had inherited her beautiful laugh.
Raven smiled.
"Excuse me," Came a voice from behind them. Arella turned, still holding Raven in her arms. A tall, handsome man with dark brown hair stood there. His eyes were a curious gray color, giving one the impression of thoroughly scrubbed steel, and his robe, a gray a few shades darker than his eyes, was perfectly clean and crease free. He smiled. "Miss Arella Roth?" He asked.
"Yes," She said, startled. Then her face lit up with recognition.
"Salus!" She cried. She set her daughter down and embraced her friend. "I haven't seen you in so long! And how is your medical research progressing? Last time we spoke was years ago and you told me of your hopes in this 'miracle medicine'."
Salus grinned, showing a row of white teeth.
"You remembered! Yes, I've finally made a break through. The meditation and calming rituals I've learned in Dorcha Temple and the city have helped me clear my mind."
"Ah, those things are Azarath's pride. We Azarathians have perfected the art."
The two friends caught up on old times as they walked down the hallway together. Little Raven reached up tentatively and touched her mother's hand with her small one. Arella looked down, surprised.
"Ah, Raven. Let me introduce you to my great friend, Salus." She said, and she and Salus kneeled next to Raven.
"Hello, little one." He said kindly, holding out his hand. Raven ducked behind Arella. Salus's smile faded. Arella noticed and grinned reassurance at him.
"She's never been one to trust openly." Arella admitted sadly. She turned to her child. "Raven, go run to the Child's Room and play with the other children, will you?"
Raven looked up silently and nodded, heading the other way.
Salus and Arella watched her go.
"She seems very withdrawn, Arella." Salus said. "Is something wrong with her?"
"No… I do not think so. But I must tell you something."
Arella led her old friend into an empty room nearby. It was sparsely with flickering candles and burning incense. The hardwood floors and walls in the spacious area glowed with the golden light from the candles that bounced from surface to surface. Littered on the floor were about half a dozen large, pale green cushions, each dusted with a clear powder that kept them clean and fresh, always ready for meditation and peaceful reflection. Long windows built at the top of the room gave a view of the half-light that was Azarathian day. Arella slid the door shut behind them and then took seats on the jade cushions. She waited a moment and sighed again.
"Salus," She said sincerely. "You and I were great friends long ago. Although we have not seen each other for many years, you were with me even when Raven was born, and through the trauma that passed when Trigon nearly destroyed my mind and my body. I trust you. So I will tell you.
"This morning my sister – remember her? Dona, who has the Sight – told another prophecy. It speaks of a demon child who can break into Hell, and only she and her son – or was it only her son? I cannot recall – can defeat something. Dona believes that this demon child is my Raven, and I fear that the connection with Hell must only mean her father. I do not know what to do, Salus! I cannot let my child die, or have such a horrible future."
Arella sobbed into Salus' shoulder, and he patted her on the back, trying to sooth her.
"Arella, predictions don't always come into play! Prophets have been wrong before, and Dona may be wrong today."
Arella drew away from her friend, wiping her tears and returning to her seat on the green cushion. She breathed deeply the incense, trying to calm her troubled spirit.
"No, Salus." She said reluctantly. "Dona has never been wrong. And this prophecy was Vicissitudo."
Salus frowned.
"Arella, I have an idea." He said, and smiled, though his smile was grim. "I have often planned to journey to more than just Azarath and Tameran. Where you daughter ventures I will follow, and take up my medical endevours in foreign worlds, and when she needs help I will be there to help her."
Arella's brown eyes widened.
"Salus, but your career, your life! You would sacrifice other opportunities to care for my daughter's health?"
Salus nodded.
"A friend must do what a friend must do, sister." He grinned.
Arella embraced him.
"And brother, though we be not related in blood, we shall be forever related in spirit."
Author's Note: I enjoyed making that chapter. :-)
I read in another fanfiction that Raven's last name was Roth, and so I used that. Sorry to whoever it was, but I couldn't remember who. If you don't want me to use it, I'll go ahead and take it out.
The names of the prophecies were all Latin, just so you know. :-)
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