Episode 14: The Prophet
"How is he liking that chess set I got him?" Bruce asked.
"Well, he plays it every day," the caretaker answered.
"So, he's figured out all the rules?"
"Uh . . . yes, but there's a twist to it. Look."
A gangly teenager with wavy-blond hair came to a table and began setting out a chess game. "He always plays at 2:00, and he always plays by himself."
"Why? I thought he'd understand that it's a two-player game."
"He doesn't talk about it. He could, but he doesn't. And there's something else. I've watched him, and I noticed that black always wins, and it always wins the same way. I think he uses the same strategy every time."
Bruce watched the boy move a white pawn and then walk over to the other side and move a black pawn. "Maybe it's because when I played him the first time, I won. I always play black. You know, I could have checkmated him in five moves. He made a big mistake. But since I wanted to show him each piece's move, I let it slide." But as he watched, he realized that the same strategy was in motion. "Holy cow, he's memorized our game. That's what's going on. He must think that's the only way to play chess."
"He memorized every move? Remarkable."
"Excuse me." Just as the boy was making his fatal move on the white side, Bruce addressed him. "Hey Eli!"
The boy turned around. "Hello, Mr. Wayne."
"I'm glad to see that you're still playing our game. It's too bad you haven't found a friend to play it with."
"Is ok."
"You want me to play another round with you?"
Eli nodded.
"Great. Let's get set up."
Eli nodded again and turned back to the board. But then he squealed and backed away in terror. He fell to the floor.
The white king sat on the black side.
"Looks like somebody else around here knows how to play chess," Bruce remarked. "Did you happen to see who moved the piece?" he asked the caretaker.
"No, sir. I couldn't see."
Eli kept looking at the board in fear. How could that piece move? It wasn't supposed to move like that. It wasn't supposed to win yet. And then a hoarse, ominous voice out of nowhere hissed in his ear,
"Checkmate."
Eli screamed. He threw himself on the board and scattered pieces everywhere. He fell on the floor and continued howling and kicking, like a spoiled two-year-old. Bruce and the caretaker both had to hold him down. "Eli! Get a hold of yourself!" Bruce ordered.
Eli continued sobbing, but he stopped kicking. "I'm sorry," he said softly.
"What happened here?"
"Don't know."
"I think I'll take him home now," Bruce told the caretaker.
Eli was clearly agitated still. He squirmed in his seat on the way home. Bruce just talked to him gently. When they came in, a girl's voice yelled, "Dad! Eli's home!"
"I hear that honey!"
Eli went over to the aquarium in the living room and stared at his pet goldfish. Bruce went into the den and spoke with Mr. LeMaster. "He's had a hard day."
"Haven't we all, Mr. Wayne?" the man sneered.
They argued for a little while. Meanwhile, Eli was reaching for the fish food. Then all of the sudden, his wrist stiffened. He couldn't move his hand. His wrist hurt, and he heard a ringing in his ears. Then he got a strange thought. Wouldn't it be interesting if he put in dish detergent instead of fish food? The water would get all bubbly, and maybe the fish would be fooled and eat it. No, he can't do that. The fish he took care of for so long would die. Nevertheless, the feeling got worse. He started to take a step toward the kitchen–
"Hey. Taking care of Noah there?"
At Mr. Wayne's voice, the malicious feeling passed. Eli nodded and sprinkled the fish food on the water.
Mr. Wayne came closer and said quietly, "When you're feeling up to it, you know what to do. Our old friend will be ready."
"Yes," Eli said. He went up to his room.
Over the years, he had learned what calmed him down more than anything. He closed the door, left the light off, closed the blinds on his window, lit some candles, selected the quietest songs from his Beethoven CD, turned on a lava lamp, and sat down in front of it. He did this almost every day. His older sister's friends spread some pretty nasty rumors about his behavior, but Eli didn't care about them. Watching the oozing colors move gave his turbulent brain a break. He felt so calm and quiet. The music and the smells made him think and experience things. It made him happy.
Then in the middle of "Moonlight Sonata," the four loud, bold notes of the first movement from the fifth symphony shocked Eli out of his reverie. After he shook off the surprise, he got up to change the CD back. He knew that this CD was getting worn and sometimes it skipped and jumped around, but he didn't select that song in his play list. What was going on?
As he reached for the back button, his wrist stiffened again. This time, he could see why. A hand had grabbed his wrist, a very strange hand, a metal hand. But it was not cold and smooth like most metal. It was just hard, and painful.
"Sorry, kid," a deep, dark voice said. "I rather like this song."
Eli looked up and with a gasp, he pulled his wrist out of the metal hand's grip. He knew this man. He was the metal man with one eye that took the Muse away. But it couldn't be.
"Little known fact," the man said. "They say that when Beethoven wrote this song, he was depicting fate, in the form of lifelong deafness, knocking at his door." The man reached back and rapped the wall to the music. "Well, guess what? I'm knocking at your door."
Eli did not know what to say.
"I remember you, vaguely. As I understand it, you were the boy who ruined all of my fun. Ragnarok, right?"
"How'd you know?" Eli squeaked.
"I know."
"You can't be here. They told me you were put to sleep."
"I woke up."
"No, I'm saying that you were put to sleep the same way a dog is put to sleep."
"And I'm saying that I woke up!"
"You can't wake up! No dogs wake up when they're put to sleep!"
"But I'm not a dog. No, I'm so much more."
"What do you want with me?"
Before Slade could answer, someone pounded on the door. "Eli, you're talking to yourself again! Cut it out!" his sister said on the other side.
"Not talking to myself! Leave me alone!" Eli yelled back out.
"So, Eli's your name? Short for Elijah, I presume," Slade said.
Eli gasped and grabbed the knots on the side of Slade's head that looked like ears. "You didn't hear that!"
"Calm down, child," Slade said as he pulled him off. "I'm going to be spending a lot of time with you from now on. It was only a matter of time before I learned your real name. It's quite interesting, actually. I've come to give you an offer of a lifetime. How would you like to be like your namesake–a prophet?"
"No thanks. Prophets talk a lot. Don't like to talk."
"I'll tell you what to say. In fact, I'll show you."
"No, I don't want it."
"Son, there's one thing all prophets had in common. They did not have a choice." He twisted Eli's arm behind his back and whispered in his ear, "If you keep my words silent, you will waste away from the inside. Such a pain and unrest will come upon you, like fire in your soul. Prophecy is fate, Eli. You cannot escape it."
"No!" Eli got out of his hold and grabbed his helmet. "I took you down before. I can do it again." He didn't want to do this in his own house, but he saw no other choice. Fire shot out of his hands and surrounded the one-eyed man in a circle. Normally, his foes would cower in pain and fear before the flames could engulf them, and the Muse could capture them. Ragnarok was hoping that Slade would faint first, and then he could send for Batman to put him in jail. But Slade did not cry out. He walked calmly outside of the fiery circle.
"Impressive boy, but you're not the only one with divine fire." He waved his hand, and all of the fire was gathered into his fist. Eli looked out from under his helmet, and his eyes grew wide. "Relax," Slade said as he made the fire disappear. "I'm not here to destroy you . . . yet."
Ragnarok reached for a signaling device. In just a few seconds, he'd have much needed help to get rid of this menace.
"Calling Robin's old man will do you no good, boy," Slade said darkly. "You know, it's usually in my nature to play games, keep secrets, give subtle hints, but in this case I have specific instructions to be direct. Eli, I'm in the one where no one can stop me, especially you." He made Ragnarok put down the signaling device and whispered in his ear, "I'm in your mind, Eli."
"Then you're not real!"
"On the contrary, son. As I understand it, I am more real to you than reality. And the things I have to show you are very real. They will come to pass, and you will speak of them."
"No, no I won't! You can't make me!"
"You have no idea what I can do."
Eli threw his helmet at Slade, and he was gone. Eli sighed, put the helmet back in its hiding place in the closet, and threw himself down on his bed. "Glad that is over," he thought aloud. He half expected a voice out of the corner of his mind to whisper, "No, it's just beginning," but it didn't happen. He still didn't feel calm enough in his heart to call Batman so that they could go to Metropolis and help the Muse. So he turned down his music and tried to nap until it was time for supper.
He could smell what was cooking on his way down. It was one of his absolute favorite meals–spaghetti. His mother gave him a big plate, and he sat down and got a bit fork-full. Then he dropped his fork in shock. Wrapped around the prongs of the fork were not noodles, meat, and tomato sauce. They were live worms. Eli looked at his plate, and there were more worms and maggots squirming and squiggling all over his plate. "No!" Eli gasped.
"Eli, what's the matter?" his mother asked.
"Can be excused?" he said.
"You know the rule, son," his father answered. "You can't leave the table until you eat one big bite."
"No!" Eli squealed.
"Why won't you eat?" Mother said. "You love spaghetti."
Eli could only squeal again.
"Come on, boy, one bite," the father said. Eli shook his head furiously. The father jumped out of his chair, grabbed the fork with the worms still around it, pried the boy's mouth open, and despite all of Eli's screaming, kicking, and squirming, forced the fork into the boy's mouth. Eli could feel the worms wiggle in his mouth, so slimy and disgusting. He never felt more sick in his life. "Now go!" his father ordered.
Eli ran up to the bathroom and spat the worms out of his mouth. He took several deep breaths and went back into his room.
"What's wrong? Lose your appetite?" a voice said in the darkness.
Eli turned on his desk lamp, and there was Slade again. "I thought you were gone!"
"Silly boy. I'm in your mind. I'm never going to leave you. You may forget that I'm here, but that doesn't mean I'm not with you. So, what did you think of the delicacy I made you?"
"That was you?"
"Of course it was! And you might want to get used to it for a while. My job is not only to show you what will soon come to pass but also to make your life a living nightmare."
"Why?"
"I have my orders. And now I believe it's time to show you the first vision."
"But I don't want it!"
Slade didn't listen. He approached Eli and touched him on the forehead. Eli screamed. He felt as though he was being branded. A strange mark appeared on his head. When the pain went away, he saw a sky of blood red. Buildings were crumbling into ruins. He saw statues everywhere, and as he looked closer he recognized his colleagues: Starfire, Robin, Beast Boy, Cyborg, Batman, Static, and Gear. They all had such frightened faces.
"It's just like Pompeii," Eli whispered. "But why? What happened?"
Slade gestured to a figure in the distance. It was a woman with long hair, stretching her hands over the devastation and screaming. Eli could not tell who it was or why she was doing this. Slade came closer to him and whispered, "What she has concealed, she will become."
Eli felt as though he lost control of his own mouth as he repeated, "What she has concealed, she will become." Then he looked at Slade and said, "But who is she? Why?"
"She has no other choice."
"She has no other choice."
Suddenly, the woman disappeared in a flash of light, and the vision ended. Slade was gone again. Eli sighed. He threw himself down on his bed. He wanted to sleep so badly, but his stomach was empty, and as much as he wanted to stop thinking about what he had just seen, he could not. What had happened? Who was it that caused it? What happened to her, or it? Perhaps in future prophecies more will be revealed. "No," he thought, "don't think that! I don't want this awful gift, and I want it to go away! Maybe it won't last long."
But it didn't go away. For weeks afterwards, he saw the same scene in his mind every time he closed his eyes. He couldn't sleep. He could barely eat. Everything turned into something disgusting. All he could eat was salsa and tortilla chips. Salsa was much too hot, but it was something. He ate it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Everybody thought it was odd.
Slade made an appearance at the most inconvenient times. One day Eli was setting up a chessboard for another game, and Slade was there at his side. "Now, Eli."
"No, I have to concentrate."
"Now, why are you even trying? You're just going to lose again."
"No, I'm going to win again."
Slade grabbed Eli's head and started pushing hard on him. It hurt! Eli screamed. "I will not be ignored!" Slade said over his screams. Then Slade touched the brand on Eli's head. Eli screamed again and once more saw the dreadful vision.
Meanwhile, Bruce and the caretaker were watching him. "He's been going into these fits a lot now," the caretaker explained. "We can't find a way to reach him when they happen. We're wondering if he has experienced something traumatic."
"Let me try talking to him." Bruce came closer to the boy. "Hey, Eli. It's me. Everything's ok."
But Eli thrashed about moaning. Then he looked Bruce dead in the eye and said, "Skies will burn. Flesh will become stone. The sun will set on this world never to rise again!"
"Eli, no. This is just a dream. It's not going to happen. You're safe."
But he said even louder, "What she has concealed, she will become! She has no other choice! The portal must be opened!" And he pulled free from Bruce's hold and ran to the other side of the room.
"See, that's another thing," the caretaker said. "He talks like Armageddon is tomorrow. In fact, it seems like the end of the world is all on that boy's mind. Look at these pictures he's been coloring." He handed Bruce a stack of paper. Each picture showed burning buildings, terrified statues, and bleeding skies.
"Has he given any kind of indication of where this behavior came from?" Bruce asked.
"None whatsoever. We think his autism is developing into a form of schizophrenia."
"Hmm. You know, I just remembered. I have a meeting scheduled with an old friend this afternoon. Please keep me posted."
"Absolutely Mr. Wayne."
Later, Eli was by himself in his room. He was near the boiling point. Slade made him yell at his friend, Bruce Wayne. He just about had all he could take. Then, there was a knock on his window. Eli opened it up to see Batman sitting on the roof. "I haven't called for you," Eli said.
"That's the problem. You haven't called for me for weeks. I'm worried about you, and I'm sure the Muse is worried about you too. What's going on?"
"Not ready," he answered.
"I think it's more than that. I've heard that you've been psychologically distressed. What's wrong?"
"Don't want to know."
"Yes, Eli, I do want to know. I'm your friend, and I'm concerned."
"I–" But then a heavy hand pressed against his mouth. To Batman, it looked as though Eli was trying to talk to him without opening his mouth, but Eli felt like he was being gagged.
"Telling him would be a release for you, wouldn't it my prophet?" Slade said in Eli's ear. "Well, we can't have that."
"Eli, what are you doing?" Batman said. "I want to help you, but you have to cooperate!"
"Batman!" Eli tried to yell. "The metal man is making me see things! Help me!" But nothing was coming out.
"Poor boy," Slade said. "Perhaps if your mind was somewhere else, you'll feel better."
"NO!" Eli screamed, but once again he was powerless. Slade touched his forehead, but this time the vision changed. He was in darkness, not in the destroyed world. Suddenly, men made out of fire came out of the ground. They surrounded Eli in a circle, and they danced around him. They had clothes, and they put them on him–a crown, a robe, a scepter, a golden chain, a scroll. Then one put something in the boy's hand that burned like a coal straight from the fireplace. Eli very slowly opened up his hand to see what he had been given.
It was a key.
And something about the key made him more frightened than ever. He screamed and dropped it. The vision faded away.
"That's it!" Eli yelled. "Get away from me! I've had enough!" He grabbed his helmet and his golden cape. He didn't think of getting the rubber mask he usually put under the helmet. He put them on very quickly, looked straight at Slade and said, "Stay away from me!" Then he ran out of his house. There was only one person who could help him, only one place to go–Titan Tower.
Finally, he made it and pounded on the door. He leaned against the doorway and gasped for air until Robin answered the door. "Ragnarok?"
Ragnarok was too winded to answer, so he nodded.
"Are you ok?"
Cyborg ran up and held Ragnarok's wrist. He was taking the boy's pulse. "You need to lie down, kid. You're dehydrated." He picked Ragnarok up and put him on the sofa. It felt so good to lie down. "Here man," Cyborg said as he handed him a paper cup of a sport drink. "Drink as much as you need. It will replenish what you lost."
"Thank you," Ragnarok gasped. He lifted his helmet high enough to reveal his mouth so that he can drink. He smiled. It was his favorite flavor, fruit punch.
"Dude! Did you run the whole way here?" Beast Boy asked.
"Most of it," Ragnarok answered.
"Oh, truly I fear the worst for our friend the Muse!" Starfire cried.
Ragnarok shook his head.
"So the Muse is ok?" Robin asked.
Ragnarok nodded.
"Then what brings you here, man?" Cyborg asked.
"Raven," Ragnarok said still between gasps of air.
"Raven is in her room meditating," Starfire answered.
"Need . . . see . . . Raven."
"We'll get her when she's done," Robin said.
"No! Can't wait."
"Dude, you don't want to go up to her room," Beast Boy said shaking his head. "She really doesn't like visitors."
"And you need to rest," Cyborg asserted.
"I must . . . see . . . Raven . . . now!" Just then, his wrist stiffened again. His ears rang. "No! No! Go away! Leave me alone!" His wrist jerked and splashed the liquid all over his face, but now it wasn't fruit punch flavored Gatorade. It was suddenly thick and salty. He spat out what he had left in his mouth, and he coughed and continued to scream.
"What's going on?" Robin asked.
"He thinks it is blood," Raven's voice said. Everyone turned to see her standing in the doorway to the corridor. She levitated silently to the sofa. "Well, what are you waiting for, Ragnarok? I know you want to see me."
"Raven, he ran the whole way here from Metropolis, or Gotham City, or somewhere," Cyborg retorted. "The wind's been completely knocked out of him."
"Fine." She pointed at him and whispered, "Azerath, Metrion, Zinthos!" Ragnarok was surrounded by black energy, and he floated behind her.
"Robin?" Starfire said timidly. "Did you see what I saw?"
"What did you see, Starfire?" Robin asked.
"It may have been a trick of the light, but just before Ragnarok spilled the power juice, I thought I saw . . . the Mark of Scath."
"No," Beast Boy whispered.
"I hope you're wrong," Robin whispered.
Raven used her powers to put Ragnarok on her bed. "Raven . . . help me," he gasped.
"It will be better for you if you don't talk," Raven said. "Concentrate on what you need."
"OK," Ragnarok thought. "I think I talk better when I think anyway."
"Yes. Now, what do you need me to do?"
"The Muse has told me about you, and you're the only person I know who can help. I think I have a demon in me."
"Sorry. I'm not an exorcist. Demons can't really cast out demons."
"But can't you at least tell him to leave me alone? He won't let me eat. He won't let me sleep. He won't let me play. He won't let me use my powers. He keeps making me think all sorts of horrible things. And he won't leave me alone! You know what's in my mind. You can stop him!"
"No, I can't. Your mind is much like the Muse's. I know it's strong and turbulent. I can feel the wind and waves of madness, but I can't stop the storm."
"Please. You saw what he did to that drink."
"It didn't really become blood. I don't know why you thought that, just that you did."
"It dried on my mask. It stuck to my tongue. I can still taste it!"
"It's still Gatorade. Whatever made you think it was blood tricked you."
"You see what I'm dealing with? I know you can do something. You and the Muse are the only ones I didn't see, and I can't risk seeing the Muse. I might hurt her."
"What do you mean, 'didn't see?'"
"He says I'm a prophet, and he makes me see visions, terrible visions. Everyone is in them, except you."
Raven came closer to him, a fearful look on her face. "What kind of visions?"
"The sky is blood red. All the buildings are gravel. All the Titans have turned to stone. And there's a gigantic monster and a woman screaming in the distance."
"How do you know of these things?"
"He makes me see them."
"Who?"
"The metal man, the man with one eye who took the Muse away."
Raven's eyes grew wide. "No," she whispered. But then she called upon her emotional control and approached the boy. "Perhaps I should see into your mind. I want to see these visions for myself. Then I will try to erase them."
"Thank you."
"I need you to take off your mask. I know this isn't comfortable, but I must look into your eyes." Ragnarok slipped off his mask. Raven approached him, put her hands on his temples, and whispered, "Azerath, Metrion, Zinthos. Azer–"
Suddenly, Ragnarok saw the Armageddon sky. As Raven continued to chant, he saw flashes of the visions. They kept focusing the mysterious figure in the distance. He saw her clearer than before, her long hair, her black clothes, the red brands glowing all over her. He saw her vanish in a bright light, but before she did, he recognized her pointed noise and the tone of her anguished voice.
"IT'S YOU!"
Ragnarok jumped up from the bed and looked at Raven in fury. "It's you! You started it!"
"Ragnarok–"
"You! You cause all this to happen! I thought you were good! I thought you would help me!"
"I am good, and I am trying to help you! If you will only relax–"
"Relax? For the demon who will destroy the world?" He put his helmet on, pointed at Raven, and sent a jet of fire to surround her. Raven only looked down at it casually then stared the boy down
"How do you know this?"
The Mark of Scath blazed on Eli's forehead. Raven gasped in terror, but once again regained her composure. Then Eli answered in a voice that was almost not his own. "What you have concealed, you will become. You have no other choice. The portal will be opened. Raven is the portal. Ragnarok is the key. And Trigon the cursed, the mighty is the prisoner standing on the other side."
Then a familiar shadow passed over Eli's shoulder. "Surprise," the shadow said in an eerie sing-songy voice.
"Slade," Raven whispered. Her stare turned to him. "What have you done to this boy?"
"What have I done? I believe the question, my dear birthday girl, is what have YOU done."
"What are you talking about?"
"You know very well what I'm talking about. You are still running from your fate. I know just as well as you do that you asked for help to stop you from fulfilling your destiny. Did you not stop to think that your futile decision would lead to dire consequences?"
"The consequences will be your own, Slade. My father will hate the day the prophecy was made once we're finished."
"I don't think you understand me, young lady. This boy is a friend of the Muse's, is he not? In fact, I believe they are quite fond of each other. The boy, I can tell, is crazy about her. Well, since you've called upon your friend, your father and I returned the favor. We gave the boy a tremendous gift."
Raven gasped. "You did not."
"Yes. He's seen wondrous things no mortal has seen before and no mortal will see again."
"I didn't want it!" Eli yelled at her. "Make him take it back!"
"I cannot," Raven answered. "You've accepted it, and there's nothing I can do."
"So, you remember the law of your land," Slade sneered. "Reluctant though he was to take the gift I gave him freely, he did not refuse it."
"That's a lie!" Eli yelled, but Slade ignored him.
"And I believe you still remember the other corollary of this law."
Raven sighed. "Every gift is given with a curse, ten times more grievous and powerful."
"I know the curse," Eli said. "He's been horrible to me. He won't let me enjoy life! He–"
"Oh, no, the curse is a lot more fun than that," Slade said. "What you're experiencing is just an appetizer."
"What is the other side of his gift?" Raven said.
"I have said that he is the first, the only mortal that has seen the calamity that will befall the earth. And he will also be the first to die."
"No!" Eli gasped.
"Yes," Slade hissed. As he spoke, Eli felt his lips move, as if Slade was borrowing Eli's mouth to talk. "And do you know how, Raven? You will continue to resist your fate to the last second. You will try to lock yourself away under the protection of technology and holy symbols. But this boy, this prophet, will come forth with the key. He will have secret knowledge that will set you free from your prison and your father's. He will carry forth your fate. He will be the first thing your father will see. Your father will see the Mark of Scath, and he will use this boy to return to earthly strength. You see, Raven? This boy is your first birthday present. This is what you get when you conspire against destiny. Your champion will lose her most dear friend."
"No! NO!" Eli screamed. "I can't do it! I won't do it!"
"This doesn't have to be your fate, Ragnarok!" Raven said.
"Oh, but you don't have a say, Daughter of Trigon! You don't have control!" Slade put his hands on Ragnarok's shoulders and whispered in his ear again, "Light up son, as if you had a choice!"
Ragnarok's fingers did indeed blaze with righteous fire, but he did not hurl it toward Raven as Slade wanted him to. He threw it instead at Slade. At first, he regretted the decision. He thought that Slade would control the fire, as he did the first time. But something different happened this time. Slade was not prepared and was hit. He fell back in slow motion. Eli felt like he was being pulled into a surreal world, that limbo place he often found himself between reality and the distorted images in his mind. He and Slade were free-falling. He felt dizzy, but the anger and fear still burned inside of him.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he demanded. His voice echoed forever.
"Why didn't I tell you? My dear Eli, I thought you realized it," Slade replied cooly.
"Realized it? What are you talking about?"
"Don't you understand? Don't you know what your name means?"
"It means 'My God is Yah–'"
"No boy, your name, Ragnarok. It means destruction of heaven, fate of the gods. It refers to a Viking myth of the day that a great war occurred against the gods. It is that fire that burned down the halls of Valhalla that rests in your hands."
"No one ever told me what that meant. You're lying."
"My dear boy, I have told you nothing but the truth. Face it, Ragnarok. Your very name is Doom!"
The news weighed heavy on Eli's conscience. He was going to somehow open the portal and begin the destruction of the world. All the awful things he saw, he was going to start them. But then, but then–?
He grabbed Slade and held his arms as tightly as he could. "What will happen to HER?"
"Who?"
"You know, the only one I haven't seen. I've seen everyone, but I haven't seen her. If you are going to kill me, at least show me her fate!"
"Do you want to see it?"
"I have a right to see what will become of her! I AM A PROPHET!"
"It is not a good vision. What you will see will frighten you to the marrow. You will see it every second when you blink. It will haunt you to your dying day."
"I don't care! Show it to me!"
Slade reached out from space and one more time touched Eli's forehead. It still stung, but Eli did not scream. He found himself in the familiar scene of the world in its last moments–the red sky, the broken buildings, everything. But something was different. Someone was moving through the petrified heroes. It was the Muse, and she looked lovelier than ever. She seemed to glow with a Heavenly light. Her hair cascaded like fire, and she cried rainbows. Around her neck hung a dazzling jewel, but it was not her pendant.
She came to an altar, and lying upon the altar was Ragnarok's marked, bloody, and broken body. The Muse fell upon him and wept. It filled Ragnarok with such despair to see her wings shudder with her crying. Suddenly, a shadow fell upon her. A great beast, a monster Ragnarok only saw in the distance in his vision, stood above her. He was red, with four, glowing, red eyes, a crown made of two antlers, and flowing, white hair. "I have been waiting for you, Muse," he said in a voice that sounded like thunder.
"Yes," she answered. "You are the one Raven wanted me to fight. But why did you take him?"
"He was a necessary sacrifice."
"Was he? I pity you. Everything is a necessary sacrifice, isn't it?" Her jewel began to glow.
"I am the one who pities you," he answered, and he created a column of fire. But he did not throw it at her. He used it to consume the gift on the altar.
The Muse screamed, "NOOOOOOOOOOOO! EEEEEEEEEEEELIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII!"
And she jumped into the flames.
"Muse!" Eli yelled. "Don't!" And Trigon's laughter was all around him.
"Azerath, Metrion, ZINTHOS!"
Suddenly, the whole scene disappeared. Eli was sitting on Raven's bed, and she pulled away her hands from his temples. "It's over. He's gone."
"For good?" he asked.
"His presence is no longer in you. Look, Ragnarok, I don't want you to listen to a word that madman said to you."
"But, but it was true, wasn't it? You, of all people, would know."
Raven looked away.
"Raven, please tell me. Was it true? Was it a real prophecy?"
"It was prophecy, but it was not your prophecy. You uttered words that were many years old. But not all of it was that prophecy."
"What do you mean?"
"Do you truly know why Slade hesitated when you asked him about the Muse? He hesitated because he did not know. What you just saw was completely fabricated. It was created by Slade to frighten you in the way he said."
"That is a relief. So how much is true and how much did Slade fabricate?"
"As I said, don't remember a thing. That's the best for you."
"What if he comes back? Will he come back?"
"He might, but he can't dominate you anymore. You realized what you did, didn't you? When you struck him, for one moment, Slade was pulled into your world except him pulling you into my father's."
"But he did keep in control. He didn't lose his cool."
"You don't realize it, but I believe you scared him. That's one thing you must remember. My father has no power over you. You're not his prophet. You are stronger than that. Remember."
"I'll try my best. Thank you very much, Raven. I knew you were the right person to help me." He started to get up.
"Wait a minute. One more thing." Her hands glowed a dull blue, and she touched his heart.
Five minutes later, she and Ragnarok walked down. "Robin," Raven said, "I need you to call your guardian and tell him to take Ragnarok home."
"But what does he have to do with–?"
"More than you realize. He knows the boy well. As for me, I need to do some deep meditation. Please, do not interrupt me. I'll be doing something very difficult, and it may take several hours."
"Um . . . ok."
She started heading back to her room, but then Cyborg called, "Yo Raven, what did the kid want?"
"And why did he bear the Mark of Scath?" Starfire asked. "Is he in danger?"
Beast Boy added, "Yeah, and why did you let him into your room when you won't–?"
Raven looked back at the Titans sternly. "That's between Ragnarok and me." Without a word, she levitated back to her room.
Next Episode: In the End–The Muse and Ragnarok join the fight against Trigon and meet what fate really has in store for them.
Lt. Commander Richie: Thanks for your comments. I would have had Starfire give Precious a thraknar, but I wrote that episode before "Birthmark" was released. I had an idea that Starfire probably had some kind of Tamarian birthday custom, but I didn't know what it would be.
