Whitewashed Years
By Broken Azar
Disclaimer - I no own, you no sue.
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"It seems like everything is gray and there is no color to behold.
They say it's over and I'm fine again."
Chapter Five – Death and Rebirth
5.1
She walked the long stone corridor, the hem of her white robes dusting the floor and her small hands full of a tray of food for her mentor. She paused at his door and did not announce herself; he would have sensed her approach. A few moments passed before she was admitted to his room.
She dutifully set the tray on his low table, avoiding the priest's eyes as was proper.
"Raven, be seated."
Surprised, she obeyed and took a kneeling position before his table. The kindly older man sat opposite her, a troubled expression on his face.
"Raven, don't ever let them convince you that you're evil or unworthy. You are worth a dozen of the priests here." She flushed; her dark destiny so quick to come to mind.
"But Sir, I will-"
"You will triumph, and you will fall. You will be caught before you fade, and you will deny." He paused. "You will find what you seek before you realize it is what you need more than air, but if you are not careful, you will lose it."
Those words would be with the girl for many years, but forgotten in her darkest days.
5.2
Raven woke the next morning in her dingy little hotel room, the words from so long ago ringing in her ears. Why that incident had come to her mind now, she had no idea, but she rose with the dawn and groomed, pushing it from her mind. She didn't have time for prophecies and tales anymore; she had to figure out how to get enough money to survive in Gotham (if this is where she decided to stay).
She was out the door early that morning and headed down the street. She looked like your usual pretentious indie-fuck teen, with her oddly colored hair and eyes, her far too trendy clothing, and the hat perched on her head. She didn't care; it worked.
She stopped for an overpriced coffee and was ready to leave the coffeeshop when someone ran directly into her.
She scowled and moved around him, not aware he'd just stolen her wallet until she was several steps away. By then she spun around and yelled.
"Stop, thief!"
5.3
Richard heard the young woman scream and looked over the top of his newspaper at what was going on. He frequented this coffeeshop every morning, and it was unusual to hear any kind of commotion.
He hesitated when he saw the girl go after the thief herself.
Had her eyes turned white?
He was on his feet and running after them both before he had decided to help her. He was faster than the woman and overtook the thief quick enough to tackle him to the ground.
5.4
Raven was shocked to see that she had a hero on her hands, who had tackled the thief to the ground and was now wrestling with him. One good punch to face and the thief was out cold.
Raven scowled and took her wallet back from his jacket.
"Thanks." She growled to the 'hero', turning to look at him. "But I could have taken care of that myself."
When her hero looked up she was struck by the most amazing honey brown eyes. "I'm sure you could have, Raven, but not without causing a bigger scene than this."
She was stunned. How did this person know her real name, and hint so easily at her powers?
Unless…
"Robin?" she hissed. He stood, hand resting on her upper arm as two policemen appeared.
They explained the situation and she gave her statement before both were sent on their way.
They walked in silence. "So am I right?" she asked after a long silence.
The man shrugged. "Robin died." He snapped.
She turned to look at him with even eyes. "So did Raven."
They looked at each other then, and were at a loss before he offered his hand. "My name is Richard Grayson. It's nice to meet you…"
She accepted his hand solemnly. "Rachel Roth."