Author's Note: Sorry for the long wait, there was so much stuff I had to do! There's some fighting and some Azarath in here. The best of both worlds, my friends! Literally. Lol. But there's some important info in the Azarath part, so don't just skip over it! laughs :-) The title is named from the poem.
I've just put up a second fanfiction; it's called Drop-Dead Gorgeous. Please check it out; I think it's going to turn out really fabulous.
Wysteria Fox – Sorry, I've never read the comics… sweat drop
Chapter 13: Sacrifice
The start of our finish,
The beginning of our end,
The rules were written solid
But they'll have to break or bend.
A sacrifice of life for the safety of them all;
The security of nations in the price of just one fall.
"Sacrifice" - Raven Roth
"Ineo," Dona Roth murmured to a looming stone doorway, pressing her right palm against the center. The door shuddered, hissed, and creaked open to admit her. Dona tightened her grip on the prophecy orb in her left hand as she daintily descended down the rough and seemingly endless steps, squinting as the light diminished. The icicles hung in clusters on the high stone ceiling, gently dripping icy water from their gnarled, pointy tips, and the droplets splattered with tiny plops as they hit the chipped stone floor. Wafts of wintry mist floated a foot above the frozen bottom, sometimes drifting upward to twirl around the millions of tall, thin pedestals lined tightly together in rows. Upon closer inspection, one could see that each pedestal really was an hourglass, counting down time with silver sand pouring through, forming mounting piles on its bottom half. On each hourglass dais rested a pulsing glass orb filled with brilliantly colored liquid, thick and slushy, the only things brightening the gloomy vestibule. There was every color imaginable, some dim and some sparkly, some dark and some bright, but all with a strangely beautiful tone. They seemed to be sorted due to their color and hue, starting with primary and secondary and working down the color wheel to those that didn't even have names.
The huge Oraculum building was a freezing, shady place. Improperly named, really. Thought the prophetess, shivering when the vapor cooled her legs beneath her robe. She stepped through the frozen isles in between pedestals toward a carved out nook in the cellar-like space where a marble desk and a short, bespectacled, knobby-kneed Azarathian man stood.
"Dona!" The old man wheezed, limping toward the young woman with his cane helping him along and clicking gently as it did. On his gray hair and long beard were drips of melted frost, and Jack Frost had visited and drawn patterns on the man's glasses. They slid down the tip of his long nose, and he pushed them back up with a thin, wrinkled finger that shook slightly as he did so. "Not many Azarathian prophets connect so often with the forces as you, lass. Tell me it's not Malum again, lass!"
"No, Keeper, it's not Malum." Dona smiled, but it was a grim one. The Keeper of Oraculum was a wise old man, and had kept the prophecies under his watch for many, many years. He looked at Dona, and his emerald eyes crinkled into a reassuring and curious smile.
"Well, give me your foretelling, lass. I must find if I have any hourglasses to spare…"
Dona reached out and handed the Keeper the prophecy. The old man cradled it in his palms, staring through the clear sphere and at the pearly white liquid inside. His eyes widened, the green of his irises swallowing his dark pupils as he gazed in shock.
"Vicissitudo?" The Keeper whispered breathlessly, turning the object over in his arthritic hands and watching the contents lap at its confinement. He looked up at the seer before him.
"Dona," He said slowly, looking into the purple eyes of his companion. "This is the first Vicissitudo in two hundred years…"
Dona's brilliant eyes widened.
"Keeper… I didn't realize how rare they were…"
The Keeper didn't answer but turned, still holding the orb, and walked along the isles of hourglass pedestals, gently tapping each one as he did. His emerald eyes were half closed in concentration, and he murmured ancient words under his breath as he stepped, his feet making a dull echoing sound on impact with the frozen floor, followed by the sharp clicking of his staff. A beat formed, throbbing through the carved foundations of the Oraculum building. Dona followed him, familiar with the placing ritual. They weaved through the isles, the Keeper's voice getting louder as they neared the end, where, farther off from the others, was a solitary row of seven stone hourglass pedestals, twice as tall as those bearing the colored orbs. The hourglasses had golden sand, unlike their silver neighbors, and the sand dripped slowly, silently. Glass spheres rested on four of the seven, filled with the same gleaming white liquid – Vicissitudo.
The Keeper stopped in front of the fifth pedestal. Though his feet had ceased movement and his staff was still, the rhythmic pounds echoed loudly through the icy chamber, reverberating in their chests. The Keeper placed the encased prophecy on the pedestal, and stepped back. The ground began to shake, and icicles fell from the ice-covered roof, shattering on the equally iced floor. The hourglass, previously empty, shuddered and glowed along with the miniature earthquake, filling with a golden light that drifted into tiny pieces of golden sand. The earth settled, and the glow diminished, and tiny beads flew steadily from the hourglass, forming a pile on the bottom.
The Keeper turned and looked at Dona.
"You are a prophetess, lass, so I assume you are familiar with these?" He gestured behind him to the golden hourglasses.
Dona shook her head slightly.
"I know many things about the prophecies, but I have never seen these particular hourglasses before."
The Keeper cleared his throat, and spoke.
"All of these hourglasses in the Oraculum building measure the amount of time it will be until the event predicted in the orb on its head takes place. When all of the sand has reached the bottom, it will be the moment of truth, lass; when the prophecy reaches its completion." He waved his spotty, wrinkled hand at the rows before resuming his speech. "In this particular Universe, only eight Vicissitudo may ever be foretold. There used to be eight hourglasses on this platform, lass. Five of the eight have already been foretold, but only one has come true so far. We retire the glass when it runs to the bottom. You look like you want to say something, lass?"
"Keeper, if I may… What was the Vicissitudo that already occurred?"
The Keeper tipped his glasses down and eyed her with mysterious gemlike greens.
"Now, I suggest you leave. No one should stay here longer than they should, lass. It has driven the frail mind to the brinks of insanity before."
Dona nodded, her amethyst eyes lowering. She suppressed a shudder, shook her ebony tresses from her face and waved a small goodbye to the wise Keeper of Oraculum as she left.
.
"Get out! GET OUT!" Raven screamed at her father. "I won't let you hurt him! Any of them!"
Trigon laughed.
"Raven, Raven, Raven. Or rather, 'Rae', as that disgusting half-human lover of yours calls you… Amazing, that a threat would come from my daughter – and a robot!"
Raven gritted her teeth. Psychologically, that is. Subconsciously. She was bound, wrapped up in her subconscious and held captive by her father. His presence had already sickened her so much that he had taken over, shoving her aside and taking up residence inside her mind. Her physical image had changed due to his sudden influence; she towered over all, her eyes gleamed with the fires of Hell, her teeth were sharpened daggers, and she shimmered with a reddish glow that hovered around her body, vaguely shaping the satanic form of Trigon.
"They'll save me, Trigon! You can never win!" She screamed in her mind, but she was terrified, terrified of what would happen. Trigon saw her fear and fed off of it, his power over her growing.
"All I need is to kill this child, Rae." He sneered, speaking aloud this time, knowing she could hear him either way. He tossed in Cyborg's nickname for her mockingly. "You're next in line for the throne, and I have no desire to kill the next ruler of my kingdom…"
"Well, I got a desire to kill YOU!" A new voice cut through the air. His cannon was cocked and ready, and Cyborg shot at Trigon, carefully aiming clear of Raven' stomach. The shot sent the startled demon cracking into the wall. The thud was almost as loud as the booming thunder that crazed outside and the pounding rain that was furiously beating at the Tower and the waters around it.
"Boo-yah!" Cyborg pumped his fist into the air, but his victory didn't last long.
Trigon was up in an instant, ensnaring Starfire and Beast Boy in Raven's dark powers. Beast Boy rapidly changed from animal to animal, but nothing freed him from the confines of blackness. Starfire assaulted her bindings with green star bolts, panting as her efforts made no headway.
"STARFIRE!" Robin and Cyborg yelled in unison. "BEAST BOY!"
Robin grabbed three birdarangs from his belt, and was about to throw them when Starfire cried out, making him hesitate.
"Robin! No! You will hurt Raven! Our friend is still inside this beast!"
Trigon laughed, the horrors of it echoing around the Tower.
"This foolish Tameranian is correct..." His grip on Beast Boy and Starfire tightened threateningly, causing them both to gasp for air. "To kill me you must kill my daughter, and killing my daughter means killing her progeny…"
"No way!" Cyborg burst out. "I'm not killin' my girl or my kid, so back off or we'll make you!"
Robin slid into place beside Cyborg, reaffirming his support behind Cyborg's words, and Trigon seemed to shrug.
"You Titans are foolish, foolish humans – " ("I am not human!" Starfire snorted indignantly.) " – You will end up killing her, and her daughter, the only threat."
The Teen Titan's leader opened his mouth to speak, but Cyborg did before him.
"Daughter?" He said, his mouth hanging open. He turned to Robin. "Oh my gawd, man, I'm gonna be a dad! To a little girl! My little girl!" He cried, looking close to tears of happiness and also like an idiot as he seemingly forgot the fact that a tyrannical demon was standing in Titans Tower promising to kill them all. "Wanna be godfather? Star can be godmother!" Robin, Beast Boy, and Starfire sweat dropped.
"Uhh, Dude?" Beast Boy said dryly. "We sort of have a bigger problem right now." He pointed at the creature whose powerful hold he and Starfire were still in. It was Cyborg's turn to be embarressed.
"Eh heh heh… Sorry."
Inside her mind, Raven mentally rolled her eyes at her love, feeling an overwhelming burst of fondness for not only Cyborg, but Starfire, Robin, and even Beast Boy as well. Trigon suddenly howled in pain. His grip on Starfire and Beast Boy tightened, locking around their throats with force, and the two sucked in a last breath before the air was squeezed out of them. Robin gritted his teeth when he saw Starfire suffocating and looked at Cyborg. The metal man read his friend's mind and his eyes flashed. He stepped in front of Robin, who frowned determindly.
"Cyborg, I have to save her. They can't wait much longer, and I don't want to hurt Raven any more than she already is, but I haven't got a choice. Move."
Without waiting for an answer, the Boy Wonder pushed past and ran at Trigon, launching himself into the air and hitting the demon with everything he had, pushing him backwards and leaning his weight into the thrust. Caught unawares, the overlord let out a yell of fury but crashed through the glass, falling past the many stories of Titans Tower with Robin in his grasp. The jagged edges of the shattered wall were stained red, scraped with skin caught in their tiny, sharp fibers. As if the wall had been a dam, suddenly the waters burst forth, unleashed and frigid. The rain pounded on the floor of the living room, dousing the seats and the carpet, showering the table and everything in sight. Arctic wind blew through with droplets on her breast, cutting little knife-like kamikaze bombers ready to take their lives in the pursuit of watery pain. Thunder pounded and lightning flickered, but there was a strange silence, a numb silence, and a moment later, a sickening crunch echoed through the storm as the pair hit to the craggy rocks below.
Author's Note: Don't hate me? sweatdrop
The next chapter will come up as quick as I can get it, promise! I really love where this story is going… it's almost over… but it'll go out with such a display! Fabulous.
Ineo is Latin for "to open"