Okay, here I go again... Anyone ever wonder why Raven, an individual concerned with controlling her abilities with a seeming obsession, would leave the one place best suited to her needs, Azarath? There are multiple rumors floating around in fanfiction land: mission, banishment, influencse of her diabolic father, etc... Here's my spin (straight from the doom and gloom camp of fanfic theory) and I hope you enjoy. Disclaimer: I don't own Teen Titans in any way shape or form. (Same goes for any cameo appearances by literary fantasy worlds mentioned. I'm covering my bases here.) That honor belongs to someone at Cartoon Network and I have no intention of challenging that person! I don't seek to make a profit from this and hope this doesn't get me sued... Please enjoy.
Shadows and Light
By Wordbearer
The old women in white robes paused as she caught sight of the young girl quietly meditating in the next room. Shrouded by a blue cloak as she hovered in the air, the girl's lips moved to a silent mantra. Her frail-seeming, petite frame was drowned in the heavy fabric. A black aura blazed around her, forming a contrast with the girl's grey skin. Azar, high priestess of Azarath, sighed as she entered. "Such a soft vessel for such a deadly puzzle. What chaos this child has wrought by the mere fact of her existence."
Just this morning, as she was preparing for the rite which would occur later this day, she had been confronted by the Grandmaster Tobias of the Temple Guardians. The black and silver armored warrior had shouted, "Why do you persist in this madness? The half-breed is a threat, her mere existence a beacon to her daemonic sire! To grant her that which you seek to give her is to doom us all!"
Calmly Azar responded, "The girl has passed all the trials, all the purity tests. Her power dwarfs my own and..."
Tobias cut her off with a rude gesture, "By the Phoenix King; that is the problem! Her power flows from her tainted blood and she can do naught but bring destruction."
Sternly now, Azar censured her interrogator, "Grandmaster, I would remind you not to blaspheme in my presence. Your rank gives you certain liberties, but we are in the presence of the God." Tobias genuflected in the direction of the shrine at the other end of room as Azar continued, "Raven has passed the tests, and she will serve well. Make no mistake, I have overseen her training myself and have complete faith in her abilities."
Azar came out of the flashback and entered Raven's cell, waiting patiently as the 16 year-old settled to the ground and straightened with ceremonial precision. Raven opened her eyes. The azure pupils were tinged with a tension that must have been strumming through her body like a lightning bolt, yet none of it reached her face or visibly disturbed her composure. It was like Azar faced a younger version of herself, and this thought saddened her. "Such discipline for one so young. She has been denied everything that makes life worth living for the good of herself and the rest of this world, but I wish there was another way. My Raven, I pity you, even as I push you on this path."
Shaking her head the gray haired priestess spoke, "It is time. Nothing must go wrong today, my child. To fail today means everything will have been for nothing. Everything must stay in its place." Raven nodded tightly and pulled her hood further over her face in a gesture of nervousness that communicated volumes more than it should have. Azar was fully aware of her protégé's strain and tightly gripped the half-breed's shoulder with one wrinkled hand. Raven's eyes darted at the uncharacteristic gesture of closeness and loosed a relieved smile.
Hating herself, Azar glared sternly at the shorter girl and admonished, "Everything in its place. Nothing can slip today." The look of happiness was swallowed by an emotionless mask and it pained the elder to see such joy pruned.
Straightening as much as she could, Azar said, "Its time to go. We are expected shortly." Azar turned and she heard Raven follow.
They were greeted by a quartet of black-robed monks who took flanking positions around them. The monks tapped out time on the black marble tiles with oaken staves as they walked. Passing out of the cloisters, Azar could see the ebony walls with their precious mosaics by the light of brazen lanterns. She savored the heavy odor of incense that permeated the wide hall. Plainsong echoed though the halls as vespers marked out the hours. The high priestess ignored the gestures of respect with frigid dignity becoming her station, fully aware that the ritual motions of respect turned to whispered curses as soon as the watchers caught sight of the grey-skinned youth behind her. She was proud to note that Raven didn't seem to react to the maledictions, her control steadying her pace. The crowds thickened as they crossed into a main corridor, a rank of Temple Guardians closing shut behind them. This was the public section of the temple, the part that had to overawe outsiders with the power of the Phoenix King's temple. Gold tapestries hung from the walls and richly embroidered carpets turned the floor into a mosaic of bright colors. The black and silver armored silhouettes of more Guardians could be seen around every pillar, the paladins of the temple having turned out in force on this day, clutching ornate halberds. The sextet slowed as they neared their destination, the Sanctum Sanctorum of this temple. Peacock clad nobles hurried under an archway dominated by a huge, golden statute of a raptor with long trailing tail feathers. This was the chief icon of the Phoenix King, and Azar looked it straight in its silver eye as Raven and the monks dropped to their knees and performed a heartfelt absolution. Azar shivered as she felt the heavy alien presence of her God caress her mind like a rough embrace. Ever since she had attained the rank of high priestess, she had known that the God was alive and interested in Azarath's affairs. She could feel the same kind of fearful faith in Raven, and knew that this rite would not remove that fear.
The room beyond the arch was filled with waiting bodies clad in the styles of Azarath's elite: the clashing colors of the nobility, the grim black of Temple-Guardian leadership, and the pale robes of the clergy. A platform dominated one end of the room, a simple wooden altar adorning the stage-like surface. A central aisle remained clear and Azar moved up it with marked deliberateness, rice crunching under her sandals. As the high priestess made her way up to the altar, she heard Raven and her retinue of monks kneel near the doorway. Behind the altar, Azar turned toward the congregation, the very act a benediction as she began to recite the psalm that would initiate this rite. "Blessed be the people in the eyes of our God. He watches over us and protects us, His blazing wings searing the fell spirits of the Outer Dark if they move against us."
The refrain was low and solemn, "His vigilance is all-encompassing and forever; we are sacred in His eyes." Azar held out her arms, revealing a pair of blazing rings on her upper arms. Carved in bone and inlaid with bronze, they glowed with arcane light.
"We gather in this most sacred place to pass a burden, to insure that He continues to commune with us in His divine protectiveness." The congregation was silent as Azar crossed her arms and gripped the rings tightly, allowing the power of the Phoenix King to arch through her flesh in an iridescent wave. Azar shivered as the golden energy coursed through her veins and held herself still only through great focus. The strain she felt made her feel more certain that she was doing the right thing...
Letting her hands drop to her sides, Azar continued, "He gave us the gift of these rings as a symbol of His trust, to allow Him egress into our world. The strongest female must bare this burden, to be His voice, to guide His protectorate when divine necessity draws Him far from our midst."
The high priestess locked her pale blue eyes onto Raven for an endless second and the half-breed met her mentor's gaze with seeming calm before bowing her head once more. Azar swept her gaze over the mass of participants and spoke in a firm tone, "Our God also bids each chosen one to surrender her post to a successor when she feels her flesh begin to wither and her soul long for the embrace of the Peerless Harvester. It is long since time for me to pass this burden onto younger shoulders, for a unique child in our midst gave me reason to delay my passing. This child has borne hardship beyond human tolerance and faced unnamed trials without number. Her own flesh would guide her into damnation, yet she has resisted the manifold temptations of excess. This child has darkling seeds in her spirit, yet she has risen above them to embrace His light as if it were her own. I have chosen my successor, a strong soul who will bear the weight of our God's gaze with stoicism and tolerance. Acolyte Raven, child of Arella Roth and He We Keep Bound In Shadow, rise and prepare to receive a burdensome gift." Raven rose in a whisper of cloth on rice, her legs bruised by the hard grains. She was silent, her face carefully schooled. The congregation shuffled and gave each other sidelong looks. They had heard rumors, but none had believed that Azar would truly give this honor to the blasphemous outsider in their midst. Raven walked up the aisle, her eyes locked on the altar as she had been taught.
Azar nodded in quiet pride, and then sternly inquired, "Have you passed the trials and proven yourself strong in body?"
The monotone response came with ceremonial formality, "I have proven my flesh to be a worthy temple of His spirit."
"Have you passed the tests of purity, that you may not betray His trust in a moment of weakness?"
"My soul is untarnished silver amid the acid winds of the world."
"Do you accept the burden this duty requires: to speak for the God, to protect His flock, to act as the anchor for our faith in a deadly world?"
Raven paused and answered, "I devote myself to this faith, to this God, and my fate to His word."
Azar straightened, "Then speak the Name of our God and know that He knows your heart and expects eternal faith to your duty, no matter what trials may afflict you." Azar watched as the half-breed dropped to her knees and whispered the Sacred Name that that must not be spoken aloud by the unannointed.
A whisper slipped past grey lips, "Phoenix King, creator and destroyer of eternity." The air grew thick and heavy in Azar's lungs and the way Raven's voice momentarily quavered communicated all that Azar needed to know. Drawn by the recitation of His name in the Sanctum Sanctorum of His most important temple, the Phoenix King explored Raven's mind with numbing force. One's first brush with the divine was never easy, but Azar knew they must finish the ritual while the God's eye was drawn to Raven. Grimacing against the pain that rippled through her being, Azar gripped one of the rings and pulled it off her arm. The high priestess placed the ring on the altar. Her vision fluxed and it took all of her discipline to pull the other ring from her body. Lightning arched between her flesh and the relic as she released her grip on it. Azar felt something ineffable lift from her shoulders as she backed away from the altar, profoundly drained. The Phoenix King was gone from her mind. She gathered the dregs of her energy as Raven rose to her feet, a distant look on her face.
Azar intoned, "Take up these rings and become the avatar of our God." Her protégé trembled with her arm extended over the altar.
Azar relaxed, her part of the ritual complete, and thought, "Raven will have a place here after this, even when I pass on. With the God present in the half-breed's mind, her father will never be able..." Azar snapped out of her trance as Raven crumbled to the ground. The half-breed rose to her feet before the older woman could respond, a feral smirk on her lips. Raven's aura flared up and out.
As the congregation recoiled from this display of power, Azar called out harshly, "Everything in its place, Raven! This is sacred ground and now is not the time for such lapses."
Raven mockingly smirked as she replied, "I had hoped that you would recognize me. You have always been stubborn, but never stupid. I have come to claim my daughter..." Raven laughed and ebony tendrils of power lashed out at the walls. Horror filled Azar's eyes as she realized what was going on. She drew herself upright and sternly hardened her features as she met Trigon the Terrible's borrowed eyes.
"You cannot remain here, daemon. You cannot claim the Phoenix King's prize."
Dark amusement flickered in the girl's azure eyes as Trigon examined Raven's fingers with every sign of great interest, "I see no brand, no soul mark on this vessel. Not even the petty trinkets you call talismans of faith..." The high priestess's gaze darted over to the altar where the rings that would have linked Raven to the God remained untouched. She took up a combat position as she began to gather her depleted energies. The protestations of her joints reminded her that she was no youth fresh from the Guardian trials.
"I think that you will find me not so easy a mark as you think, especially on sacred ground." Inside Azar was weeping. Why now? Why now of all times when she had been so close?
Trigon spoke, "Even gods can be distracted, human. I had to sacrifice several Hosts of minions and a triad of greater daemons to draw the blinkered gaze of your bird-brained divinity from here, but it will be enough. Be silent." With that, the ageless daemon lord wearing a girl's flesh gestured and pinned Azar to the wall on an ebony spear. Azar slipped to the ground as the spear flickered out of existence, blood streaming from her shoulder. She watched in shock as Trigon turned toward the crowd as it milled in confusion, some seeking to flee, others to close and fight.
Her vision graying, Azar whispered, "My Raven. I'm sorry. I didn't want this to happen. I wanted you to be safe, my Raven..." Darkness swept her vision.
Raven heard her mentor's last words as if they were muffled by great distance. She was trapped in a corner of her mind, fighting blindly against the black influence of her father's presence. The sound echoed weirdly, magnified and warped out of scale. She felt Trigon twist her lips in pleasure as Azar jolted backward and hit the floor, blood staining her robes. She helplessly watched as Trigon used her body and her powers to slay all those who would face him. Grandmaster Tobias rushed the altar, righteous fury twisting his face. Tobias shouted psalms as he came, clutching a wooden stave as his only weapon. Raven did not like Tobias. He had cursed her every chance he got, and had made her combat training a living hell.
Still she prayed, "Grant him the strength to kill me and end this torment. Allow him to end this slaughter. My death is nothing in the face of..." Her prayer faltered as Tobias was batted to one side by a glowing tile. Tobias looked up in time to see the mass of black energy daggers summoned by her father to take out his face in a hail of death. Raven could do not look away nor spare the warrior his torment. She was an observer in her own body, trapped and helpless. Trigon's malevolent joy flooded her mind.
"This is how it was meant to be, daughter. You should be fighting at my side, a glorious agent of death and destruction. This manipulation is distasteful to me. If you would stop fighting me and embrace your heritage, I would allow you to direct this slaughter. Surely these zealots have taught you some interesting tricks..." Trigon continued to fight even as he lectured at his daughter, putting her powers to sickening uses against her will. A man exploded from the inside out, a bubble of black energy emerging from his ruined flesh. Red-eyed birds, emissaries of Trigon's vengeance drawn from the Abyss by Raven's power, pecked at twitching bodies. Half a dozen people were crushed into a sphere three feet wide, the grisly orb hitting the ground with a fleshy smack as it slowly unraveled. Spiraling blades of pitch-black energy lopped heads from necks or arms from shoulders in an orgiastic display of power.
Raven tried to shut out the madness, her grief causing her mind to shut down. "No, no, no, no, no..." She chanted a chorus of denial as her body moved in thrall to another's will. Flash. Screams. Flash. Red flesh glistening in the torchlight. Flash. Plunging her glowing fist into a victim's chest. Flash. A heart beating in her hand as it trickled blood from jutting arteries. Flash. The heady scent of blood pushing her into frenzy. Flash. Her father's voice promising more of the same, unto the end of time...
Raven reached out with her will and grabbed the root of her mind, "No, Father! This will cease! I will not be your puppet or your slave!" Trigon's mental cry of shock was echoed on her lips as she dropped to her knees. The blue cloak, soaked with blood and bile, spread out beneath her as Raven fought in earnest to take back her mind from her sire. Daemonic raptors faded out of existence as the power they needed to survive withdrew.
Trigon roared, "Stop fighting me!"
Raven's silent response was cold and serious, "Never. This is my flesh and I will be the one to wield it." Raven was driven down through the effluvia of her memories by his counter attack and was all but drowning in the sensations, none of them good.
"Is this what you want, Raven?" Trigon's demand filled her ears as she saw a thousand and one images of contempt, hatred, and intolerance blur past her mind's eye.
"Do you refuse me? Reject my influence?"
Raven answered, "Always, yes. Always. I will not be a mindless destroyer." Blind, deaf, and aware of nothing but her father's mental fist at the base of her soul, she awaited oblivion.
To her surprise, Trigon chuckled and withdrew from her mind. "Keep that in mind for when we next meet. I will see how you feel then. The people of Azarath will not be quick to forgive the half-daemon murderess of their high priestess. I'm sure you will have an entertaining tale to tell me..." Trigon's voice faded into meaningless noise and Raven knew she was alone in her head once more.
Raven pulled herself to a sitting position, trying not to look at the blood-strewn chamber. Putting her hand down to lever herself to her feet, she recoiled as it sank into a pile of shredded flesh. She scrambled to her feet in panic, her breath fast and light. Turning around, she caught sight of Azar's slumped corpse. Her mentor's robes were stained with blood and the frail flesh dreadfully limp. Raven's mind stopped working as she tried to comprehend the black horror that was engendered by that simple sight. Blobs of black energy drifted about the room as she stared at nothing, lost in shock and horror. A wracking cough alerted her to the fact that someone else had survived her rampage. She looked and saw the bloodied form of Grandmaster Tobias struggling to draw breath. The brawny warrior was horrifically wounded; his face a shredded mess of torn skin and exposed muscle. Tobias whispered something, but the words were made indecipherable by his ravaged lips. Raven carefully made her way over to him, operating on automatic impulses as she kneeled to tend his wounds. Tobia's blind eyes attempted to lock onto her location and failed.
He spoke again and this time Raven could hear him, "It's stopped. Did we slay the foul hybrid?"
Raven calmed herself and answered him, "The daemon is gone. Let me help you..."
Raven's hands glowed white, but Tobias recoiled from her and spoiled her fragile concentration, "You yet live, abomination? What justice is there in this world when those who do evil survive their villainy?"
He broke down into painful coughing, and Raven asked him again, "Let me help you..."
The Grandmaster spat bloody phlegm in the half-breed's general direction, "ha ha haaaa... I would sooner die then take any of your help. You brought this doom upon us and can do nothing but worsen it. If your sire can possess you here, in our most holy of shrines; there is no place, he can't use you to slay in his foul name... Your death will be a mercy to the universe. You should have never been born, and never allowed to survive... I hope that they make it slooo..." Tobias's head rolled back as he lost consciousness. Raven got to her feet with ceremonial precision, the long monologue having allowed her to gather her discipline even as it planted venomous shards of remorse deep in her psyche. She stiffly pulled her hood over her head and schooled her face with fearsome self-control. She walked over the floor, ignoring the gore that stained her shoes as she made her way to Azar's body.
Her voice a cold monotone, Raven whispered, "I'm sorry. I have to go. He's right. I'm too dangerous... I have to leave. Go away, go very far away where I can never hurt anyone in this place again. I will keep everything in its place." Raven bent down and closed Azar's staring eyes.
She whispered a hymn to the dead, ingrained habit suppressing the loss that flowed though her being. "I call to the Grey Judge: to bring this soul home and to guide it swiftly through the fields of the Outer Darkness and into the light of our God's haven. I call to the Gatekeeper: to bar the ether against its faults and to let through that which made it good. I call to the Golden Hound: to protect the blessed dead from the predations of Outsiders and to nourish those whose lives had robbed them of hope. I call..."
The hymn was long and Raven lost herself in it, only stirring when the sound of steel clearing leather reached her ears. She looked up with cold eyes at the squad of Temple Guardians, "Do what you must. I'm sorry for what I've inflicted on you this day." She could see the confusion on the Guardian's face at what he sensed: the air thick with the afterstench of daemonic energy and the apparent source of the power crouching in front of the body of his high priestess in pious recitation of the funerary hymns. His confusion didn't last long, guardian training designed to weed out uncertainty in its participants. He rushed up the stairs with blinding speed, quick enough to bypass any defense Raven might muster. Instead, Raven vanished in a flash of black light; the last sight she glimpsed was the down-rushing sword of her would-be executioner. Her vision cleared to reveal her spartan cell. Raven pulled a sack from a shelf and grabbed what few possessions she felt she should take: a hand mirror, a few scrolls, and a white book. Her mind burning with cold logic, Raven settled into the lotus position.
Her grey forehead wrinkled in thought, "Where should I go? Nowhere on Azarath is safe. Midgard? Dominaria? Magamund? Narnia? Shannara? Those are all too mystically charged; He would find me too quickly... Earth might work. It is so far down the ethereal spectrum he would have trouble seeing me there... Yes." Her mind made up, Raven tied the sack to her waist and began to chant. She ignored the grief that urged her to break down with a ruthless stubbornness that would have horrified Azar herself if she were present to sense it. Everything was buried beneath a layer of numbness that allowed her to carry out the complex rite she was attempting. The energy pulsed in time to her breathing blooming outward as she continued to intone the phrases under her breath. A chill wind fluttered her cloak as black lightning lashed the walls. The power stabilized into a perfect sphere of darkness, only the white glow of Raven's eyes visible amid the intricately woven streams of her psychic might. The barriers between worlds grew thin and the arches of black lightning more violent. With a burst of deafening silence, Raven vanished. The room was empty, with only the ghosts of what might have been to haunt it.
So you made it through the minefields of my adjective-laden prose unscathed? What did you think? Good? Bad? Just plain cheesy? If you see fit, leave a review and tell me what you think... Thank you for your time.
