Ah, you'll have to forgive me for not bringing myself to write this more quickly. I barely have time anymore, keeping up with homework, school sports, my regular fiction piece, which I must admit, has a little more priority, and any other crap the week tends to bring me.
Anyway, I'm hoping to get this chapter out by the weekend of Veterans Day. I've put this in front of everything for now so I can get it out of the way and to avoid anxious readers coming up and killing me.
So, we've got chapter three and there's still not much happening. Chapter four is where I bring in the main plot. Hope you like this chapter anyway.
Enjoy!
Kree
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A whole month of this had gone by rather quickly. She didn't expect it to take this long, but in truth, she was enjoying these talks. That was something she silently cursed herself at. One part of her found it completely revolting that she took pleasure in her association with evil but the other was thrilled with his company. She had forgotten how understanding Malchior was and how similar the two of them were. She always kept in mind, however, that she was going to destroy him, sooner or later, but that did not keep her adoration for him from proliferating, day by day.
It was very strange, extremely unexpected, to have these talks cure her in a way unimaginable. Yes, eventually, she was determined to hate him and forget him but for now, there was no pain. The month passed by leisurely and she could live and sleep in peace. She was not afflicted with tormenting memories nor was she tortured by his essence in any way. He was still on her mind, that much was true, but she had come to accept his overwhelming presence in her everyday life.
Raven began to ease back into reading for her own entertainment. Her novels of fantasy, horror, science fiction, and mystery provided further relaxation, a state that used to be very foreign to the shaken Titan. This unusual manner of leisure caused her to interact with her friends more amicably than ever before. She became more focused in meditation and in the battles she fought alongside the Titans. In a very odd way, she had been happy. Maybe happy was too strong a word, but she was at least very content with life and the way it had been going.
After the crazy incident with Mad Mod, all she wanted to do was sink into the central room couch and read. She had just started a book series called "Dragonlance" with a total span of over ninety novels. So far, she found the first few intriguing and was pleased to have such a wide variety of stories to keep her occupied for many months.
Cyborg, Beast Boy, and Robin were playing videogames beside her. Though their cheering and yelling was sometimes earsplitting and loud, she hardly found them distracting. They did not bother her as much as they did before so she found no difficulty concentrating on the plot of this book. With one final hoot and a shout, she heard the crash of cars overwhelm the sound system. An uncustomary cry of victory slipped from the mouth of Robin into her ears. She found herself smiling at his unbridled bliss as she turned the page with the tips of her fingers. Suddenly, Raven closed the thick, paperback books gently and placed it to her side
"Move over, Cyborg. I'll beat you all," Raven motioned with her right hand. With wide eyes, the boys passed a controller over to Raven, staring at her with dropped jaws for many a second. "Well?" she said with a tilted head. "Are we going to play or what?"
"Raven," Beast Boy's voice was filled with disbelief, even as he spoke her name. "You never play video games."
"Yeah, well I'm playing now," she shrugged.
"Well just because it's your first time doesn't mean we'll go easy on you," Cyborg mused as he elbowed her.
"And just because you're a guy doesn't mean I won't go easy on you," an urthodox grin of competition stretched out across her face.
So the racing games began with the four friends yelling and shouting just as before. True, Raven never set her hands on a controller before but she had watched them play many times. She got used to the controls very quickly; after all, she spent most of her life meditating to obtain it. To the boys' surprise, she won the first few games and then came in second the next few. Although she did not cheer as joyfully as her fellow Titans, she came close to laughing a few times and she even smiled. Finally, after about ten rounds of racing, she set down the controller.
"All right, I'm too good for you guys. I'm gonna read my book now," she said as she unplugged her
controller with her powers. She turned around and started walking towards her seat at the end of the coach, picking up her book with her right hand.
"So I guess the dreams have stopped?" Robin asked during the pause between racing.
"Dreams? What dreams?"
"You know, the Malchior dreams."
Her heart froze. That's right, she had told them that about a month ago. How could she be so stupid to not remember that lie? "Yeah, they've stopped," she nodded. Was that wise to say? What if they heard her talking in the middle of the night to him again? What would she say to that? "I started this book series, Dragonlance, and it's got over ninety books in it. It's kept me busy and it should keep me busy for awhile. I guess I didn't I have to think much about him while reading."
"Yeah, we figured you were feeling better. You're acting a lot more cheerful lately," said Cyborg.
"And you never act cheerful," added Beast Boy.
"Well, Beast Boy, I never played video games either," she said with a small smile. If only they knew what drove her happiness.
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"As far as I know, Robin hasn't liked any other girl but Starfire."
"And what about of the Tamaranean girl?"
"She's had her share of glomping over Aqualad and some other Tamaranean guy but she's madly in
love with Robin."
"Glomping?" Malchior's voice was inflected with confusion. "What sort of action is this?"
"Oh, it's like drooling infatuation and staring, something only girls would understand," Raven smirked.
"Raven, I have a very feminine side. I presumed that you would be familiar with it by now."
"You know," she began, holding back the pleasure from her expression. "A lot of women would have found that kind of personality extremely attractive."
"My dear, I lived in the real world. I did not have time for alluring young maidens for my own entertainment or emotional desires. Now," he hesitated. "What about your changeling friend?"
"Beast Boy? Well the guy used to try to pick up girls all the time... until Terra. He really liked that girl and she liked him too. He's never really gotten over her completely since she was turned to stone," she explained. "Beast Boy is pretty good at pretending but I could still tell that he's been hurting for a long time."
"He's not the only one who's putting on a masquerade if I'm not mistaken. Your friends still don't know about me?"
"They would not approve of this. You know that," she cocked an eyebrow. "You're still the paper man that became the dragon that tried to take over the world."
"And the one that hurt you?"
"That would be correct," she winced in her seat on the bed.
"So, what about the mechanical man?" Malchior posed after a brief silence.
Although she was thankful for the change of topic, she wasn't pleased with the next name that spluttered from her mouth. "Jinx. Cyborg likes Jinx. Not only is she an enemy, she's a bitch," she pursed her lips to keep back her revulsion as hard as she could. "And they both like each other too. Cyborg denies it, of course, but I've seen him sneak out to meet her."
"It sounds like everyone has liked some sort of enemy except for Robin and Starfire. Forgive me if I am mentioning our relationship in false terms."
"No," she shook her head, her voice small and quiet. "No, that's all right." She did not like him knowing that small truth.
"What about you, Raven? Have you had a decent share of lovers?"
She knew he asked a question he already knew the answer to. Indeed, she was curious of his intentions and she could not decide whether or not to reveal secrets she had let her voice run away with. Biting her bottom lip in hesitation, she swallowed before beginning to speak. "No. It is extremely dangerous for me to love and to express such emotion. I am quite attached to my friends at Titans Tower. I've admired Robin as a strong and brave leader. I always have since the first time I met him. Cyborg has always been like a brother to me and I can always count on him. Perhaps..." she looked to her right and stared up at the wall. "Maybe I have liked Beast Boy a little. Those feelings sort of died down after Terra though."
"So you do trust me enough to tell me this."
"Not exactly, Malchior. After all, who are you going to tell? Sooner or later, you won't even be around. Telling you is like," she paused with a small smile, "talking to a book."
"Oh, my dear Raven, I should hope that I'll meet my fate later rather than sooner."
"Only time will tell," she fell back onto her bed, her body sprawled across the mattress as she stared up at the ceiling. She yawned and closed her eyes for a few seconds until she heard Malchior's voice in a very unorthodox tone. Quiet, yes, but uneasy. Noticeably perturbed.
"Raven, could I ask you something?"
"Yeah?" she answered, her heart losing control of its steady beat.
"Do you think I could ever come out of the book? I mean, just as the paper man. Just for our talks."
She let out a chuckle of no emotion. She did not know how to reply and found herself unleashing her awkwardness in misleading ways. "Next you'll be wanting me to free you into the world. You know I couldn't do that."
"You can't blame me for trying," he tried to sound upbeat but Raven sensed his disappointed. His anxiety almost disturbed her, slicing a piece of her heart she could barely feel. She sat up again and faced his black eyes on the book stand. Clasping her hands together, she crossed her legs in a meditating position. Of course, she had no intention of meditating, but she found his stance comforting. "If only we had met in a different time, a different place," Malchior suddenly sighed.
His statement iced her skin all over and violently shook her heart. Her mouth opened and closed several times but no words came out. Finally, after about the fifth time, she mustered out a, "what?"
"I always liked you, Raven. I've never felt this way about anyone. But I knew that you could probably never accept me after what I did to you. It's a shame we couldn't have met somewhere else."
"Well, Malchior," her voice was hardly above a whisper. "I really liked you too. That, I will admit. But I could never like you again because I know what you really are. I know of your goal and that makes you my enemy."
"So, you wouldn't love someone because of what they are?" he questioned.
"No," Raven winced. "That's not what I meant. You're just twisting my words around."
"No I'm not. You said you couldn't like me because I was some evil wizard, or rather, terrible dragon that tried to take over the world. Even though I don't much of a history with love, I've been taught that you fall in love in who they are, regardless of what they are," his voice, a graceful glissade.
"You know, being an "evil wizard" or "terrible dragon" must have some traits in your being that also repel me. Ever think about that?" she crossed her arms.
"I'd hate to argue with you, even though I must dissent. We haven't quarreled since the very beginning."
He was right, and she felt the exact same way. No altercation had ever existed except the first time she opened his book. She didn't want to start now and let her emotions run wild again like the last time. So she took a deep breath and got up on her feet. "Good night, Malchior," she reached for the book on top of the dark stand.
"Good night, Raven."
The book pressed against her chest, she raised one hand to levitate the book stand back to its proper place in her dimly lighted room. She walked to the trunk, the Malchior's second prison and carefully placed the book at the bottom. Locking it quickly and then hurrying towards her bed, an object on the table caught her eye. The paper rose lay on top of the surface as it had for almost two months. She reached for the object that once meant all the love she could possibly need and now was a symbol of impossibility. With the paper rose in her hand, she dug her legs under the covers and let her head rest into her multitude of pillows. Her eyes were locked on the ceiling now as she twirled the paper rose in her fingers to the right and to the left.
It seemed as if the paper rose had wrapped its thorny stems around her heart and continued to thrive on her emotions. If this continued, the results would be disastorous. She needed to move on, get over him, hate him, and then forget him. The paper rose must be burned. If she could not accomplish her mission, Malchior could fool her again. Malchior might seduce her and force her to unleash him into the Human world-
And most importantly, she might end up hurt again.
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It was dark except for the bursts of blinding fire that erupted every few seconds or so. In this short and excruciating light, she could see two boys in the midst of a great wood. The sylvan area seemed to collapse on top of the two small children as they huddled together. Earsplitting screams and vigorous yelling created a dreadful aroma of blood and death. Footsteps stomping through the woods were at a great distance, but they thundered the earth, creating much trepidation.
A skinny white haired boy of ten lay in the arms of his red haired companion. The poor child was shaking with fever, beads of sweat running down his terror-stricken face. His white hair flew from side to side as he tossed and turned in the other's arms. The boy's eyes were clothes but his distressed expression was intense and painful.
"I have to go find help for you or you'll die," said the red haired boy as he set the sickened boy on the ground. He stood up and started running through the woods, farther and farther away. "I'll come back for you, Malchior, I'll come back!"
But as the red haired boy ran the darkness consumed the other child as he lay at the brink of death. Only a few seconds had passed until a young, teenage boy with white hair stepped into the light with a brown pack on his back. It was the same boy, but a few years older. Behind him stood a crowd of water sprites, watching him leave the village that began to materialize around them. But instead of tears of sadness in their eyes, an astonishing mixture of fear and relief overwhelmed their composure. The images and people she saw began to blend in color and shape until she saw the same boy, a year or two older.
But the younger Malchior looked much different. Skinny, he was, but his long white hair was sloppy and dirty. He wore filthy rags torn every which way and that. His face was gaunt and he looked as if he were to topple over and die at any moment. She watched him walk in the devoid atmosphere, his head hung in his loneliness, but his feet forever moving in his quest for existence. The blackness began to dissolve into an actual setting and she finally realized that he was at a book shop. The boy was focused on an old, tattered book, and was turning the pages with carefulness at a rather quick pace. His coal black eyes ignited with excitement as he looked at one page to to the other.
That's when the scene dissolved again and there stood Malchior, sixteen or seventeen years old. A background of black and the teenage boy all alone seemed to be quite fitting to the dark wizard. No longer did he wear torn up and beaten clothing. He wore polished silver armor that gleamed with a magical aura. In the center of his majestic chestpiece was a large "M". A long, ebony scarf meandered through the air. His long pale colored hair was neat and clean and danced with the wind as he stared off into space.
There were his recognizable black eyes with three small lines trailing the bottom. She knew the story, knew the beginning, middle, and end. She knew that at this point of his life, he was the most powerful and feared wizard (or dragon) alive. However, her certainly didn't look like he was too pleased. She could not see the expression his mouth portrayed, but his eyes... his eyes still held the same loneliness, the same hopelessness it previously had.
Her eyes suddenly flared open but not with the same horror her dreams of him usually caused. For the first time, she had seen Malchior as a man. The last time she had looked through the pictures of his book, she had thought that Malchior was the good wizard. After she found out he was the dragon, she figured that illustrations were of Rorek, and not of Malchior. However, the man that she saw in her dreams looked very similar to the one she saw in the book. She was a bit confused, but also overwhelmed.
She had seen Malchior. She had seen what he looked like, his face, his hair, his body. Her heart pounded with an awkward kind of excitement.
It was morning, although she wasn't quite sure what time it was, although she knew it wasn't too late. As she slid off her bed, throwing her arms up into a yawn, she walked over to the closet beside Malchior's chest. She crossed both of her arms across her body, causing her closet doors and the chest to open to her command. The book flew over to the stand and opened to its proper page. The stand moved towards the center of the room as did a small stool simultaneously. "Azareth, Metrion, Zynthos," she said quietly, and dozens of paintings and drawings flew out of the room, assembling themselves in a large circle. Her artwork was of his memorable, black eyes and his terrifying form as a dragon. Several times, she tried to draw what she thought he might look like but most of them were failed attempts.
At last, she picked up a large easel with her hands and placed it in front of the stool. There was already a large white board and a set of paints and brushes placed on the easel. She dipped the brush into a small case of water and then into the paint. The brush moved across the white board like a figure skater on ice.
"May I ask what drove you to paint at such an early hour?" Malchior asked and then paused. "And are all of these pictures of me?"
"I had a dream," she said in response to his first question in a monotonous tone. "And yes, these are of you."
"I'm flattered. I've never actually seen myself in art before."
"Nor have I. There are not too many pictures in history and fantasy books of you as a human."
"So what are you painting now?"
"You as a human."
"I thought you didn't know what I looked like."
"I don't," she replied. "At least, not for sure. I dunno..." her voice trailed off. "I had this dream about you and for the first time, I saw you as a human. I'm just painting what I saw in my dream."
"Now I'm extremely flattered. I was in a maiden's dream. Presumably, this was no nightmare, right?"
"Don't push it, Malchior," she grit her teeth, her brush swaying right to left.
"Could I ask you what I looked like in this dream of yours?"
"You had long white hair and black eyes," she said without hesitating in her artwork. "Grayish skin, kind of like mine. The oldest version I saw of you had silver armor with a large "M" in the chestpiece and a black scarf around your mouth."
"Well that certainly does sound like me," he mused.
"How come you look like Rorek in your book?" she asked, keeping her eyes on her painting.
"I changed a lot more than names in this book. I changed all the pictures of Rorek to look like my appearance. If you had looked through my pages after you locked me up again, you would have seen the book in its normal state. Rorek looks much different than I. Some would say a lot more handsome. Personally, I don't see what's so attractive about golden locks and deep, cerulean eyes-"
"There are some pictures in your book where you as the "good wizard" had blue eyes," Raven interrupted.
"Ah, the one thing I could not change about Rorek's pictures was the color of his eyes."
Raven nodded but she didn't say anything after that. She was too busy trying to recreate the image of the young teenager she saw in her sleep. She worked quickly, painting Malchior from his head, downwards. She left the features of his face blank, forming the background with dark colors before bringing her brush to his face. After perfecting his tall slender body and the intricate details of his garments, she formed his nose with a small, thin brush and the started on his eyes. She painted his eyes just the way she saw them in her dream: filled with all the pain and suffering he had experienced in his life.
She was done after an hour or so and she turned the easel around to show Malchior what she had finished. Quite honestly, she was proud of this piece of artwork, though she felt a little awkward about painting this magnificent picture of him and then showing it. "So," Raven took a deep breath, stretching out her arms. "What do you think?"
He did not answer for quite some time. "I'm thinking how fascinating it is that I somehow got into your dream. Truly, Raven, that is what I looked like, though I had no idea I looked so depressed..."
"Then this is what you look like."
"Yes. At least, it was. I don't think I'll be coming out too often anymore."
"And I'm guessing you prefer your dragon form all and all?" Raven raised an eyebrow.
"I think my dragon form is rather sexy."
She pointed one finger at the book and shut it with her powers. She did not want him to see her grin at his cockiness. Pushing the book stand away with levitation, she stood up and headed for the door. The painting needed to dry so she decided to leave the board on the easel. She grabbed her dark blue cape and swung it around her shoulders. Opening her bedroom door with the wave of her hand, a familiar green figure fell onto the floor of her room.
Beast Boy landed on the ground with a loud thud. He groaned as he lifted himself up with his two hands and rubbed his bruised chin.
"Beast Boy, what exactly were you doing at my door?" she placed on hand on her hip and leaned to the side.
"Uh," he nervously clasped his fingers. "Robin told me to bring you down to breakfast. I heard you talking so I leaned in for a second and-" he suddenly caught sight of the paintings floating in her room and his eyes grew wide. "What is that?"
"They're paintings," Raven replied bluntly, trying to block his vision with her body.
"But they're all of..." his voice trailed off and then he pointed a finger at her. "You've been talking to that monster, haven't you?"
"What are you talking about, Beast Boy?" she inquired innocently in a hard kind of voice.
"You've been talking to Malchior all this time! You've been talking to that creep!" He yelled. "I can't believe you would lie to us all this time! What did he promise you this time? A seat of power in his conquest over the world? Or was it hugs and kisses?"
"All right, so I painted a few pictures of him. It's just a way for me to release all my emotions," she scowled, clenching her fists.
"No, Raven, you lied to us! I don't see how I could even trust you now that you're in league with a monster."
"I'm not hungry." Raven stepped back into her room and slammed the door. With her back against the cold, stone door, she slid to the floor, sitting with her knees up. Wrapping her arms around her legs, she let her head drop.
What did she want? True, once before, all she wanted was someone who understood her and someone she could talk to. She thought she had found that person in Malchior and learned that she was wrong. Many times she longed for the admiration and understanding of her friends. Whose acceptance did she want now, her friends' or Malchior's?
She needed to meditate.
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All right, so it's still not as long as I hoped it would be but I'm glad I got it done by the date I specified.
I know it's been a long time since I've last updated but I thank you for your patience and hope you're all still alive. p
Please review!
Kree
