Disclaimer: I do not own the Teen Titans, and this is based entirely off of the cartoon.

They were white and expansive, casting a vast shadow across the pathway. The feathers interlocked like the finest garments I'd ever laid eyes upon. They itched where they protruded roughly from my shoulders, especially when I moved, no matter how small the motion. Such as the slight shivers that came from passing through, these shivers prompted me to pull the blank cloak around me tighter.

Blank like a new beginning. "So much for names not meaning a thing," I whispered from between blue lips and chattering teeth. There was a glow from the distance, like a sunset dancing across the sky, but I knew that it was from a fire that was eating into the apartment. Cursing myself for forgetting my duties, I pulled up my skirts and ran towards my charge's dwelling.

Snow began to fall upon the hot ashes and burning coals. Fire could rip apart and destroy, but it could just as soon bring new beginnings and new life. I would make sure that this fire brought them closer together. Death was funny: for some it was something to fight and claw your way out of, for others a way to escape. I had made my exit years ago, but still I kept coming back, back for my charge.

"Lynx!" The shrill voice cut into the evening calm like a bullet into free territory. I watched her run past with a smile despite her urgency. She was also a part of who I was, and I couldn't help but feel some pride. She ran into the ashes, using what little power she had left to keep her feet from touching the ground. "It's okay, honey, Mommy's here," she panted, but her daughter was on the third floor. I knew whenever and wherever my charge needed me.

I tried to enter, but the mother blocked my way. She couldn't know because she didn't see me. I passed through her like smoke, and she shivered, the familiar cold of the dead washing through her veins.

I passed through rubble, smoke, and ashes to reach the only access into the upper floors. Ironically, it was the fire escape. Climbing rather than using my itchy new appendages, I finally made it to the third level, where a little girl was crying and clutching a blanket. "Don't cry," she whispered to herself. "Be strong, be brave." My heart went out to her; she was so much like myself in those trying times.

"It's okay," I whispered, reaching a finger out to stroke her pine needle-colored tendrils of wild hair. "I'm here. You have to trust me." She nodded, finding hypnotic comfort in the low voice and familiar eyes.

Amazing how I pass through some and cradle others gently. "Don't look down," I warned, and she gripped me tighter. I spread the white blanket-like structures that wove into my spine as if they had been there forever. So this was what it was to fly, to see the world from a Raven's eye view.

We were on the ground away from the wreckage by the time the fire was put out. The parents thought she had been lost; her brother was away on his own, howling at the moon in the guise of a wolf. The mother also sought solitude, but the father was staring blankly at what had been lost with worried wrinkles on his green-skinned face. I floated down gently but still he was startled. It's not every day you see a ghost. "Here," I said, holding out the bundle. She had stopped crying now, and I hoped it was because I reminded her of her mother.

He stared at me incredulously. "Where did you…? How? I thought you died," he confessed as he took his daughter back into his arms.

"I, changeling," I continued in an authoritative voice, "am a guardian. And a messenger, with something to deliver." Placing one pale hand on the girl's forehead, I whispered a soft blessing. "May that which you named for me be forever protected from the demons out of hell." He was taken aback by the severity of this. But it seemed fitting to me, so I shrugged it off.

"And before I go," I called over my shoulder as I walked away, "remember: daughters are precious." With that I headed back into the realm of which I had come from, the land of the heavenly choirs and free spirits. I knew my charge was special as I spread my wings and took off. Over their steady beating, I heard a soft voice, calling:

"Goodbye, Grandma."

Guardian, messenger. Strange how the two are so alike.