Chapter 3: Questions

| DEO Base, National City

| 2015 December 14, 8:17 AM

"So, you believe that you are to be the portal of this 'Trigon'. And that he is going to use you as a means to enter Earth and basically conquer this entire plane of existence."

"Yes. Although he will be more inclined to destroy everything in his way as opposed to simply conquering."

The Native American woman raised a brow, jotting down a couple notes on her clipboard. "And the people who taught you these things. These 'Azarathians', are they human?"

The girl in front of her held a frown. "I already explained this. Yes. They are all human. Completely." She had been forced to change into a separate set of clothes, with her tattered cloak and leotard being exchanged for a simple shirt and shorts. They put a collar on her too. To inhibit her powers until they could trust her, they said.

The older woman gave a slight hum. "Oh I know you already answered some of these questions, dear. But it is good to be thorough. Now let's get back on topic. These Azarathians, did they hurt you in any way, either physically or emotionally?"

At this, Raven looked taken aback and would have accidentally blasted a random object if not for the collar, which gave an unsatisfied beep at the attempt.

The woman gave a slight nod, the motion causing her short brown hair to sway. "I also see you weren't lying about your emotions dictating your powers. Am I safe to assume that's a no, then?"

"Yes. The Azarathians never hurt me in any way. They sheltered and protected me. Gave me an education. The best. I was tutored by the best scholars the temple could offer."

"I see. And what did they teach you?"

"History. Mathematics. Philosophy. How to read and write several languages. Magic. Meditation techniques. I was beyond eager to absorb whatever knowledge they were willing to give." Raven said.

At this point the woman took a minute or two to write down the answers, likely intending to test her knowledge on these subjects at a later date. "Is it safe to assume they also taught you about Trigon and his prophecy?"

"Yes, Ms. Jamison. It's why they bothered to train me in the first place."

At this, the older woman gave a small smile "You don't have to call me Ms. Jamison while we're in here, Raven. You can just call me Dakota."

Raven clicked her tongue. "Right. So… Dakota… are you going to help me?"

"We certainly will. We just need you to answer our questions first."

Raven gave out a sigh before the older woman continued. "So you were allowed the best education they could give. Did they require anything out of you for this education? Did they have you engage in rituals or ceremonial celebrations? Public outings perhaps?"

"All they required is that I control my emotions and dedicate myself to my studies. Otherwise, I wasn't exactly encouraged to go outside much. I wasn't allowed to partake in their magical rituals either. And Azarath isn't big on celebrations. They were pacifists who believed they should abstain themselves from material pleasures."

More writing, more nodding. "Ok then. Were you allowed to play with other children?"

"No. Playing and socializing meant I could develop emotional attachments."

"Did you want to play with them?"

There was a slight pause. "Maybe at first, but my meditation sessions neutralized most of my wants."

Dakota's pen began flurrying across the page in response. "I think I am beginning to understand your upbringing. Were you allowed to interact with your mother at all, or was she also considered a source of emotional attachment?"

"That is correct. It was only when my meditation training was considered substantial that I was allowed to see her for a few outings."

"Hm. That is unfortunate." The pen was now resting on the table, and Raven couldn't help but notice the interested gleam in her eye. "Now to the topic of your arrival. Did these Azarathians force you out or did you arrive of your own accord?"

Raven crossed her arms in annoyance. "As I said once before, I left on my own. Although I think the monks tried to prevent me from leaving. And I believe I made my reason for leaving clear. I am here to warn you about Trigon."

Dakota let her face show a small smile, although Raven didn't think it was because she was happy with her actions. "Well that is very brave, Raven. You have been very cooperative with us, and we won't forget it. I do believe we can offer you some help. Me and my superiors are quite intent on providing you clothing, housing, and other basic needs. We also believe we can help you learn and understand your powers better. We will also be providing you with someone you can talk to — someone specially educated in cases like yours."

The woman peeled back one of her sleeves to glance at her watch. "I would like to go into more detail with you, but unfortunately I have other duties I need to attend to. I will be sure to check up on you again. But before I go, would you like to engage in a few academic tests? I would very much like to see what exactly these monks taught you and see how intelligent you are."

A frown was given in response. "I don't think you are actually asking. But yes, I will. Maybe then you will begin focusing on the right thing. That thing being how a demon lord is trying to come to Earth."

Dakota was already heading for the door. "Someone will talk to you about Trigon. Later. Right now, you are to wait in this room for a while before you are given your own room." A card was fished out of one of her pockets before it got placed in a receptacle. A small and audible beep was given before the door swung open, allowing the prim lady to access the nondescript hallway. But before Raven could hear the clacks of heels going down the corridor, a new voice appeared.

With the door now closed, all Raven could hear was muffled noises of an unknown conversation. It sounded level. Nothing indicated that tensions were high or that they were concerned over anything she had been saying for the past day. It was just the same authoritatively calm drones of a people who assured themselves that today's events were being handled appropriately.

If it wasn't for their metallic architecture and state of dress, Raven would almost think she was back at Azarath's temple. They certainly treated her like it. Raven was to wear what they mandated and wanted her to abide by their routine until she could be trusted. Except not even the oldest of monks would hold themselves with so much… rigidity? Authoritativeness? Power?

The monks always held an air of serenity, even in times of crisis. But here emotions were everywhere. She may not be able to feel them right now, but their faces constantly changed. As did their tones of voices. Yet somehow their overall countenance remained resolute with some sort of confidence or pride of some sort. It was not the kind of emotions the monks would approve of.

But she knew that when coming to Earth in the first place. Things are different here. Here, Raven was almost always spoken down to. With adults often lacing their tone with saccharine sympathy. Here, adults wore clothes that hugged their skin instead of loose-fitting robes. Here, people let their emotions run free to the point she almost felt overwhelmed. And they had technology that was currently preventing her from reaching her powers, something she didn't know was even possible before today.

In truth, the only reason she allowed them to collar her was because she was certain she could get it off if she wanted. But several attempts to overload the collar resulted in nothing but angry beeps. This technology was far beyond what she could ever imagine.

An exasperated huff almost escaped her lips before the door opened again, this time allowing another Caucasian woman to come through. Her hair was no longer living shadows, and her skin was no longer deathly pale, but there was no mistaking that uniform. A black uniform and a pair of blue thigh-high boots with a gold trim. "Nightshade."

"Raven" she acknowledged. "I read the transcripts of your interviews."

Raven gave a sardonic glare. "So, are you the one supposed that is supposed to talk to me about Trigon? Or are you just as skeptical as the last one?"

"Yes and no." Nightshade levelly replied. "Our database only has one entry depicting the demon known as Trigon. Ancient Sumerian. And the tablet was mostly damaged. But they mention how an aspect of him once arrived on Earth, only to be beaten back a by a great warrior who was blessed by ancient gods."

Raven clenched her fists. "He had several names."

Nightshade tilted her head slightly. "Including 'Satan' it seems, and 'Drez', and even 'The Great Darkness'. Your list makes him sound like every other evil deity humanity has created over the years."

"Half of those names were misnomers. Where humans either ascribed him the wrong name or Trigon deliberately took on another's identity. It's not like anyone could stop him."

Nightshade's throat gave a thick swallow. "Right… Although in truth, I'm not here to talk about Trigon. I'm here to talk about you and your powers."

A flicker of interest crossed over her features, with Raven allowing her spine to noticeably straighten in her seat. "I already explained my abilities to the others. But I suppose I can explain them in more detail since you are another magic user yourself. Although I don't know how much arcane vernacular you know."

"I know a great deal. Certainly more than Ms. Jamison." Nightshade stated. "But let's see if we can clarify a few things."

Nightshade clasped her fingers together, her face taking on a stern veneer. "You stated that you use 'soul magic'. Does that mean you manipulate the soul of others?"

"No. The only soul I use is my own. It has more than enough energy for me to draw on." She bit her lip in thought. "Although in theory, I suppose I could manipulate another soul if I wanted. But such acts were considered sacrilegious unless it was for the purposes of healing."

"So you do have a soul, then?" Nightshade pressed. "You don't need or desire soul energy from others?"

Raven felt her fists tighten on their own accord, and her voice came out at a lower pitch. "No… and I have no desire to bathe in the blood of the innocent either, in case you were wondering."

Nightshade huffed. "If you were a bloodthirsty beast, I doubt you would be here. Or me, for that matter. That being said, there are several accounts of demons acting docile around humans in order to sustain themselves off of their energies without conflict. It's more of a subject of pragmatism for them." She gave Raven an odd look, with her face kept decidedly neutral — not unlike the girl before her. "I just want to understand the nature of your abilities and determine if they are dangerous to others. So let's continue. Can you use magic that isn't connected to your soul?"

"Yes. I can also call upon the energies of Azarath. I am connected, so to speak, to that particular dimension. I determined that fact the moment I arrived here."

This explanation seemed to resonate with Nightshade, with her eyes taking on a shade of understanding. "I am knowledgeable of connections like those. Am I to assume Azarath is a source of power for you?"

"Yes. As someone who was raised there and benefited from its teachings, I can call upon Azarath's magics without much penalty. I usually use it as a source for healing energies when my own abilities are not sufficient."

"Can you use Azarath's magic for other feats?"

Raven's mouth opened and closed for a second, as if contemplating how to phrase her response. "Azarath was never meant to encourage violence. So I never try to use the energies offensively, but I guess if I wanted I could create shields and wards. But I have a feeling it wouldn't respond well if I tried to use its energies offensively."

"You 'suppose' you can create shields and wards? Meaning you never tried?"

"No. I try to be self-reliant with my abilities and only call on Azarath when I absolutely need to." Raven curtly replied. "I strive to be reliant on no one but myself when it comes to my abilities."

"Hm. Yet healing is not all you can do. You also mentioned that you can teleport. How is this done?"

"Another one of my abilities. Your scientists would label it as dimensional warping, but it's a bit more complex than that. I am capable of extending myself. To slightly become more. Or rather, I can reach out to other places and have them become a part of me. But only a tiny bit." Seeing that Nightshade had her brows furrowed in confusion, she continued. "I am basically a walking portal."

She blinked a few times, her hands briefly unclasping as she tried to commit the response to memory. "Ah. And I assume this 'portal' ability only works for you?"

Raven nodded her head. "I theorize I may be able to transport others to locations using my soul-self. But I never really tried it. Plus, there is no guarantee the people I transport will be unaffected. My soul is very… vast. It will take a lot of effort for me to transport someone without them becoming lost. But if I can store items, then I am sure I can store people."

"You stored items in your soul?"

Raven gave a mild shrug. "Only temporarily. Most objects tend to get destroyed instantly unless my soul is in a tranquil state or I exert my awareness on it. Or they just become lost to my darkness. But if I keep them to the outer confines, a person should be ok...I think."

"What about mind control, mind reading, or other forms of mental manipulation?" Nightshade questioned. "Can you do any of that?"

Raven paused, with her eyes continually shifting as she lost herself to deep thought. "I can't really enter minds. Or at least not the way some psychics do. Most of my manipulative potential stems from my empathy. You see, I don't just feel what others feel. I can manipulate the emotions of others. Control what they feel." Her face twisted. "But it always makes me sick. Literally. The last time I tried to do it, I puked. Absorbing emotions is easier."

Nightshade frowned at the explanation, but quickly recomposed herself. "Do you have any other noteworthy abilities?"

Raven tilted her head for a moment. "Aside from my telekinesis? No."

Nightshade took a quick intake of breath, her nose slightly flaring on the exhale. "I see. Well, I think I asked enough questions." She didn't even offer a word of parting before she rose from the table, the chair giving a slight screech as she left.

Raven turned in her seat. "That's it? No questions about if I used my empathy when meeting you or if I can secretly call the energies from hell?"

Nightshade didn't even turn as she approached the door. "Thus far, your cooperation tells us you are not likely to be lying. But as for whether or not you are being truthful about what you have told us…" She turned. "I will determine that as we begin exploring your abilities tomorrow. I have officially been assigned to be your instructor and that permits me to personally oversee any ability tests you may receive. We shall see if everything you told us was accurate."

| The Watchtower

| 2015 December 14, 8:34 AM

The holographic globe dominated the room, the iridescent blue glow brightening the otherwise dim room. The globe was stationary, paused. A feature that was only enabled because of the room's lone occupant who stood before the giant orb with her signature performer's outfit.

Zatanna resolutely focused on the globe, hands outstretched as if biding it to remain still. Her eyes were aglow with mystic power, and this power even extended to the tip of her magician's wand, which was clasped in her right hand.

"Etacol retnecipe fo yrecros!" she cried.

A large red dot appeared over the United States, easily covering most of Wyoming, Idaho, and Colorado. The same results the Watchtower picked up a few days ago. But it was not what she wanted.

"Laever eht ecruos fo siht rewop!"

The dot remained, and even when she prompted the hologram to show additional information with a point of her finger, the computer showed the same results as the last time:

Energy Type: Magic, Radius: Roughly 500 Miles, Additional Information: None

Resuming her stance, she refocused her power to try again. "Etacol eht retsac fo siht tnerrot!"

Nothing changed. The dot stubbornly remained stagnant on the map, with the damning glow not even attempting to shrink to a more precise location. The scan results didn't change either, with the computer unfailingly showing that there was no additional information to be found.

Perhaps she needed a different approach? She took a step back, her hands now spread as if waiting for applause from a crowd or welcoming the next stage of her act. "Wohs em tahw desuac siht evaw fo cigam!"

Her spell actually got some results this time, although it was nothing like she was expecting. She received visions of a pitch blackness that took her breath away and a feeling of panic. But it was quickly swept away with a torrent of feelings unending, reverberating within her like a —

She started, her body quickly jerking to the straightest position it could muster as she tried to comprehend her sudden shortness of breath. It almost felt like she woke up from a bad dream, with her body tingling with the remnants of fear and anxiety.

Her breath came out in labored breaths, and she realized to her shock that her body felt like lead. As if she was somehow entering rigor mortis while still being alive. Her arms moved toward herself with great effort, as if her muscles were made of metal wire.

But when she did manage to get them in front of her, she was startled again when she realized they were trembling. It was a sensation she was seeing with her own eyes, but it didn't feel like she was trembling at all.

And was it always this quiet?

The disconnect lingered over her mind like wet cotton, and Zatanna couldn't help but compare the experience to that time her father lead her through a particularly difficult séance to contact one of the several spiritual realms. It was to teach her the dangers of looking for that which should not be seen, he said.

Thankfully, he ended that lesson with instructions on how to recover from the effects, and the memory had her almost reflexively attempting to break her focus away from her form. To disconnect with the physical sensations of her body.

She was to close her eyes and focus on breathing. To mediate. To pay attention to nothing but her sense of being, and the feeling of air entering and exiting her lungs. And to not open her eyes until she felt as if her body was her own once again.

So that is exactly what she did, her body continuing with the exercise until she could open her eyes again. She was still tired and drained, her mind feeling as if she took a series of written tests. But she was able to look at the world again without her body's overwhelming panic imposing itself on her psyche.

The holographic globe was still there, the results remaining unchanged from the last time she saw them. But the holographic interface was still slightly different. The time… It was now 9:12 am. She had been here for over 30 minutes?

The idea made her swallow thickly and raise a gloved hand to wipe at her face. She felt something wet streaming down her face. Sweat? Tears, perhaps? It would not be unexpected given the situation.

She brought her hand away from her skin, expecting to find patches of clear dampness on her hand coverings. But what she saw instead had a gasp lodging itself in her throat.

What stained her hands was not sweat or tears… it was blood.

Author's Notes:

Zatanna's spells translated: Locate epicenter of sorcery! (used in Season 1 of Young Justice), Reveal the source of this power!, Locate the caster of this torrent!, Show me what caused this wave of magic!