Author's Note: Here is a reviewer who cracked me up: Timid, I know exactly what you mean… Hey, maybe they're metal pants. lmfao! And, LingXiaoyu, you're very correct. Thanks go to OneOfAKind284, for being really understanding. :-)

This chapter takes place on Azarath. I realized that to the people who've read the comics and know all about Raven's background, reading things that so totally warp her past is irritating. So, in an effort to remain consistent, I did a little research on comic-Raven, and will incorporate that information when needed.

Chapter 11: Guidance

The dusky Azarathian sun dawned slowly, taking its time and rising into the gray sky with ease, pushing away its cousins the stars and the Moon to take its place and fulfill the duty of lighting the world. It spilled golden into the crevices of the green woodlands that trimmed the communities, resting on the rough bark of the trees and the soft, browning grasses of the forest floor comfortingly. The pale beams were cool and almond as they covered the clean cobbled roads and paths. The fresh white orb shed its light in misty rays on the silent, waking villages, reflecting off the tops of the sacred temples and modest homes. In one such modest home, they filtered through the gauzy window treatments and lay in pastel strips upon the wooden floors, gently illuminating the silken white sheets of Arella Roth's unmade bed.

Arella was already awake and had dressed in a purple robe that matched her hair color perfectly, and her turquoise Chakra adorned her neck with its brilliance. She sat on a cushioned seat in front of a simple oak vanity, one of the only pieces in the large, open room aside from her bed, side table, and meditative rug over which she would hover for hours. She shifted on the white fabric, reaching to her left and picking up a brush, running it through her short locks once or twice before setting it back down. She stood and left her bedroom, walking into the room across the hall that was her daughter's room.

Raven was asleep; pomegranate hair splayed over the fluffy white pillows like ribbons, and thick duvet pulled up to her chin and tucked around her feet as she curled into a ball underneath it. Arella looked at her sleeping child fondly for a moment, than reluctantly moved forward to wake her. She gently shook the girl's pajama-clad shoulder.

"Raven. Raven." She whispered, drawing her hand across her daughter's cheek. "Child, wake up."

Raven's amethyst eyes fluttered open sleepily, and she yawned, revealing a missing front tooth.

"Good morning, Mother." She mumbled, still drowsy. Arella smiled.

"Come, Raven. We must greet the day."

Raven slipped out from beneath the covers of her bed and got up, releasing another shuddering yawn. Her eyelids drooped threateningly before her eyes and she rubbed them with two fists, unsuccessfully trying to rid them of sleep. Arella opened up the drawers of the short wooden dresser and pulled out some clothing for Raven, who quietly waited for her mother to help her dress. When she was clean and clothed, the two left their home and walked slowly to the Temple Azarath.

Majestic hardwood doors adorned with elegant gold accents marked the entrance to the grand temple. It was the centerpiece of the planet, outstanding in its priests, in its meditative properties, in its history, and in its total splendor, and the pride of the Azarathian people. Arella gently pushed open the doors and led her child in, gasping at the sight before her though she'd viewed it many times before.

A huge, arching hall stretched out before them, cathedral ceilings reaching higher into the sky then the very birds that made their territory there. The ceiling was a sky of gold, carved and manipulated with an elegance and creativity, depicting the goddesses of Azarath long ago. It shone not only with reflections from the golden torches that lit along the walls, but with some sort of pulsing, inner luminosity that seemed to come from the gold itself, as though it was melted with magic from the goddesses themselves. Hung periodically on the glassy wooden walls were golden lamps carrying the flames that lit the room with warmth. In between the torches there were elegant tapestries of meditating priests and holy women that glinted in the light, spun with threads of gold. The marble floors were colored with swirls of pale white and pale brown, and the footsteps of the many people around them echoed. Azarathians walked from place to place, visiting priests or coming to the temple to pray and meditate. Arella and Raven stood open-mouthed as they walked into the amazing temple, footsteps clicking softly on the marble.

"Miss Roth!" A voice called out. Arella stopped gazing and turned toward the sound. A man was approaching, smiling.

"Miss Roth, yes… Azar has been expecting you, and your daughter, Raven." He smiled at Raven, who scowled a bit and looked down, her longish hair falling in front of her eyes. The man's smile faded and he turned to Arella.

"This way, please."

The man led them through fine hallways to a door that resembled the front entrance of Temple Azarath, but smaller in proportion. It's golden knocker was in the shape of a bird, the beak reaching over and its eyes looking ferocious with almond-shaped rubies embedded in them.

"Here we are… Azar will call you in – "

The man was cut off as the voice of an old woman came from the other side of the door, irritated and impatient.

"Just let them in, already!" She said, leaving the man flustered and a bit embarrassed. The door opened and a tall old woman emerged, beckoning them inside and shutting the door soundly behind them once they were in. Arella came into the chamber first, gently pulling the silent young Raven behind her. It greatly resembled the modest room in which Arella had confided the secret of the prophecy to Salus in, but with imperial touches like the expensive, rare collection of incense burning its light and calming aromas, and the meditating cushions sewn with golden threads. Taking up an entire wall was an enormous tapestry depicting a beautiful woman clothed like royalty. Azar noticed Arella staring at the embroidered fabric and smiled.

"That, my dear, is my grandmother, the original Azar."

"She was beautiful." Arella said breathlessly. She ripped her gaze from the artwork and turned back to Azar. The old woman sat cross-legged, hovering above a cushion. Her long hair was white, tumbling down her shoulders in elegant curls with a stripe of black that sprouted from the part and wisped into a curl of its own. Her thick black lashes surrounded a gemlike blue, giving her a youthful appearance despite the crows-feet that spread from the corners of her eyes. She wore a white robe embroidered with every shade of blue, and her Chakra glowed the colors of the sea as she floated, hands in front of her and fingertips pressed together though her palms didn't touch. She opened her eyes.

"Yes. My grandmother was very beautiful." She paused and breathed in deeply the scents that the smooth smoke carried before closing her eyes once more. "Join me in meditation, Arella. Does the child know the art?"

Arella breathed in the incense and floated up into the air, bobbing slightly. Raven sat silently on the cushion beside her now airborne mother, gazing unwaveringly at the old woman in front of them.

"No… No she does not."

Azar exhaled.

"That will be the first thing I teach the young one. She will stay with me until I pass away, Arella, you know this."

Arella nodded, eyes still closed.

"She is the demon child. She is the hope, yet also, the destruction."

"She must go with you… I know not enough to tame the demons inside of her."

Raven's face looked up in surprise at her mother. But still she said nothing, sitting patiently while the two women meditated together. After a few moments Arella sighed, opening her eyes and falling gently from the air.

"Azar, I must go. Let me bid my child goodbye, and then she will be yours, under your guidance."

Azar nodded her consent, eyes still closed in meditation. Arella knelt beside her daughter, taking her small pale hands in her own.

"Raven, I must leave you. Stay with Azar, let her teach you, and we will meet again another day."

Raven opened her mouth to protest, her face full of despair and her eyes clouding with tears, but Arella put a slim finger to her lips.

"I must go. I cannot teach you what this woman can! You will be great, my daughter, and I hope that you will find happiness and love… but now I must say goodbye to you, my Raven."

She kissed her daughter on the forehead, her own brown eyes watering, and slowly exited the room, looking back one last time at Raven, who was staring at her mother with disbelieving, betrayed eyes. Arella squeezed her own eyes shut and left quickly.

As the door swung behind Raven's mother, Azar opened her eyes, floating down from her suspension.

"Child…" The old woman said soothingly as Raven looked down, streams of tears on her face. "You will see her again, but you must learn the ways of Azarath. Meditation will be your escape, dear. I will teach you everything you need to know."

Raven looked up at her new teacher and smiled weakly through her tears. The older woman smiled warmly back.

"Now," She said, businesslike. "We shall start immediately. I will teach you how to meditate. It is a skill all Azarathians should know."

The little girl nodded, smiling shyly, her sleek purple locks swaying gently.

"It takes nothing to hover as we do, Raven… Merely breathe deep, calm yourself, and let the air lift you like a feather of your namesake…"

Raven closed her eyes and imitated Azar, crossing her legs and placing her fingertips together. She breathed in deeply and –

"Oh!" She exclaimed, feeling herself raise into the air. She fell with a thud, wincing as her bottom missed the cushion and hit the hard floor. Azar laughed quietly.

"No, no, dear… Do not be afraid of it. Accept it, and it longs to accept you."

Raven pushed her hair out of her face and closed her eyes once more, pressing her fingertips hard and concentrating. As she opened her eyes, she gasped, but maintained her place in the air.

"Good, good." Azar said approvingly. "Now… find your center…"

Author's Note: Short chapter, I know… but I like writing about Azarath, and I really wanted to update. Expect more chapters like this one, taking place in Raven's past and in Azarath.

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