Eh. In any case, for those of you who miss the other titans, never fear... the fantasy versions of Starfire and Cyborg are forthcoming. Hold your horses.
A further note... most of the latin used in this chapter was translated (poorly) by myself. Now if I were you people, I'd be burning to know what the translation of the last incantation is. Well folks, I'll give you a hint... it's an actual incantation used in a song. If you can send me an accurate translation (I have the translation already, by the way) of the latin used in this chapter, I'll be impressed. If you can give me the name of the band as well, I'll not only be impressed, the next chapter of The Witch's Knight will be sent to you a full two days before anyone else gets to see it.
How's that for cool beans, eh? I only do it because I just know it's gonna drive some of you folks crazy trying to figure out what he was trying to do. Mwahahaha.
"There is a place far from her home, she strayed her path too long. And in that wood, she found the stone, lost souls should never look upon. At first glance, a lone monolith... lifeless cold and grey. She looked in deep, that timeless relic. The lost fall easy prey. Come into my world my child, I will take you home. I'm your Reaping Stone. Think not of ones you've lost nor of ones you leave. I shall give you strength to pass. I shall set you free. Come into my world my child, I will take you home. I'm your Reaping Stone. Come into my world my child, you'll never be alone. I'm your Reaping Stone." -The Reaping Stone, Iced Earth
He woke suddenly, the sensation that he was being watched causing his hand to unconsciously slip to the staff on his side.
He was no longer in a forest. In fact, what he looked upon appeared to be...
A battlefield.
Robin stood confusedly and glared at the world around him in stubborn denial. Closing his eyes, he centered himself.
"When I open my eyes, the crazy will all go away. I will be back in the forest with my talking horse, stalking a witch who has threatened to turn me into a ground squirrel."
The irony of his statement made him furrow his brow and he simply opened his eyes.
The battlefield was still there.
He let out a great sigh. Not one to agonize over things he had no control over, he simply crouched down low and advanced to the edge of the hillock he was currently occupying.
Silvery metal in a row, figures in fantastical platemail, visored helms staring intently. The standards of war decrying different units surrounding in protective formation a single contingent of blue robed figures. They faced him, their penants cracking smartly in the morning breeze.
He blinked. Why were they facing him? He studied the heraldic symbols, something he had studied in his efforts to become a Knight, but it took him several seconds to remember long forgotten historic symbols. The Silver Hand? The Sons of Light?
These were units long destroyed. Companies of knights fabled and remembered in song and tale.
The lost army of the Kingdom of Azarath. A Kingdom that had been destroyed utterly more than a century ago.
A grey haired man in splendid midnight blue robes hemmed in silver denoting him as some sort of Archmagus stepped forward, his face disdainful and angry.
"Trigonus! There is nowhere for you to hide! Demon of a man! Release my daughter! Your reign is at an end"
Robin raised an eyebrow and winced. "I think I've been Draumatized."
A baritone voice smooth and vicious echoed in derisive laughter. Robin started, then looked at the base of the hillock. A man in red robes, his silver hair flowing down his back like a mane of mercury stood with his head thrown back. Next him, a beautiful woman with amethyst hair pulled back in a severe poney tail stood silently, her eyes vacant. The man in the red robes allowed his voice to quiet to an amused chuckle, his hand caressing the womans arm possessively. She shuddered slightly at the touch, but that was her only reaction.
"Hide? Hide, Azaron? What need have I to hide? I'm simply tired of you chasing me about the countryside with your pitiful band of lickspittles. Did it not occur to you that if I were truely RUNNING from you I would find a better place to flee to than the kingdom you call home."
He scoffed. "Furthermore, my wife is free to leave at any time. Aren't you, Arella?" He purred.
The woman never turned her gaze away from the army. She simply answered in a subdued monotone.
"Yes, Lord."
He smiled. "And do you wish to leave?"
Something tensed in her body language and Trigonis narrowed his eyes. She stilled and turned her face to him. From his angle he could see the sadness and resignation in her eyes.
"No, Lord."
He turned to Azaron and shrugged. "You see? She's gotten quite... attached. Seventeen years is a long time, Azaron. Why, we've even had a child together. You might as well call me son in law."
Azaron scowled, his eyes flashing in fury. "You have perverted our most sacred bond, Trigonus. Your lust for power has driven you mad. Any ties you have to my daughter are but shackles! I WILL free her."
Trigonus shook his head and smirked. "No. You will not."
Azaron clenched his fist and gestured with the other hand angrily. "Enough of this! Attack!"
The army started forward, a cry of war resounding as though screamed from a single throat. Trigonus grinned and gestured almost negligently, his fingers contorting into strange gestures fluidly. Strange symbols that hurt the eye with their sheer wrongness appeared before him.
"Abyssus Militis invocat!"
A rumble caused the army to stumble and mill about confusedly, some continuing the charge forward. Brave men, throwing themselves at what by all accounts was the single greatest Infernist to ever live. Despite the strangely whimsical sense of lassitude that was upon him, Robin's warrior heart ached in sympathy.
Those righteous few who charged forward screaming their fury were the first to die.
They were not the last.
A tear opened up in the verdant ground, earth falling away into a shadowy rift. The earth tumbled strangely though, as though throw a thick, viscous soup. The first knights to reach it similarly began to sink, shrieking and only now trying to turn away.
Things began to rise from the abyss, dark plate armor like the irridescent shells of beetles, breastplates helms and arm greaves covered in nightmarish spikes, with gauntlets clutching weapons designed for the application of painful and torturous death. Their red eyes burned with malignant glee inside their visors. From the waist down they were simply smoky tenebrous clouds, trailing wisps of darkness that turned the grass to dust where they touched.
Trigonus grinned and lowered his hands, blood dripping sluggishly from his palms. Though pale, his face was triumphant.
"Kill them all."
The Hell Knights dipped as though bowing, then turned and shrieked like children being skinned alive. The silvery army began to hesitate, fear striking each man like a palpable fist. The Hell Knights used this hesitation to rush forward, moving as though on horseback. They passed through the army, slaying as they went.
Their shrieks were joined by the shrieks of men and beasts.
The cloaked figures began to assist the knights, chanting and invoking their own spells. Rays of light, bolts of lightning, even a strange greenish tinged rain fell upon the Hell Knights. Some of the army was caught in the crossfire. The magical fury spared no one.
Meanwhile, Archmagus Azaron scowled and tossed back his sleeves.
"Very well, Infernist. I gave you the opportunity to surrender. This will be our last duel."
He began his own invocations.
Trigonus smirked. "How pragmatic of you. Very well."
The magical duel raged back and forth, blasting great furrows in the earth where the killing spells were cast forth and deflected by charms and protections. Robin shook his head at the devestation. Something about any single man wielding such power filled him with anger.
Finally the Archmagus scowled, fatigue and anger warring for control of his features. He slumped to one knee.
Trigonus hadn't even broken a sweat, though Arella swayed and whimpered, her features drawn and pale. Robin sensed that there was a connection between the two, and that the Infernist was drawing power from her like a leech. He clenched his fists in impotent fury. What the hell was going on? This was obviously the Battle of Azarath, but the Witch was nowhere to be seen, and by all accounts she had factored heavily in the battle. This wasn't what history said had happened here!
Trigonus shook his head. "You were foolish to attempt this, old man. Such an ignoble end for the great Archmagus Azaron."
Azaron smiled coldly. "Look around you, Infernist. The noose tightens upon your throat. You should have remembered that wards and runes were always my speciality."
Trigonus frowned. "What?"
Azaron raised his hands and began to chant in a voice hoarse with exhaustion and pain.
"Periurium dominus, gravo plecto aliquem capite."
It was Trigonus' turn to stumble to one knee, clutching his chest in agony. Blood leaked sluggishly from his mouth. The great furrows torn in the earth now glowed with an unearthly white light, revealing the Archmagus' master stroke.
A circle of judgement had been laid without the Infernist's awareness.
"Damn you..." He sputtered, his hand clenching on Arella's arm hard enough to draw blood. He was now bleeding from every oriface, from the pores of his skin, even from beneath his fingernails. The Hell Knights hesitated, then faded with howls of frustrated rage. Arella and Trigonus' blood mingled. His eyes widened in recognition, then he drew himself to his feet and lifted his head, a painful smile coated in blood upon his lips. His eyes bled freely.
The Archmagus winced and stood, swaying slightly on his feet. He leaned heavily upon his staff. After panting a mment, he raised one bushy eyebrow and scowled. "Release her, Trigonus. You have lost."
Trigonus raised blind eyes to the sky.
"Ab Aeterno..."
The sky turned black in an instant. The Archmagus gasped. "No!"
"Ad limina Mortem et extra..."
Swaying with the effort to continue the Judgement Curse, the Archmagus leaned heavily upon his staff and shook his head. Winds began to howl as a black rain fell cold and stinging from the dark skies. Where it touched it turned silver metal to rusted, age old ruin. Bodies burst from foulness and corruption, spewing foul humors into the bloodsoaked ground.
"You cannot! It is forbidden! Trigonis!"
"Abyssus, Abyssum invocat..."
"Mother STOP!"
The voice drew both Robin and the Archmagus' attention. It was a feeble cry drawn out almost involuntarily and torn upon the winds, yet it echoed across the battlefield.
The Archmagus turned desperately to the only cloaked figure still standing beside him, his face torn by strain and dismay. He had to shout to be heard in the screaming winds.
"Raven! You must stop him! She is lost to us!"
The cloaked figure advanced from the Archmagus' side, her hand outstretched beseechingly.
"Mother, FIGHT HIM"
Arella continued to stare blindly.
Trigonus continued his dire chanting. If he recognized his wayward daughter he gave no indication.
"E tenebris, Veteris vestigia flammae ardere denuo..."
The Archmagus winced suddenly, dropping his staff. Clutching at his chest he gasped.
"Raven... you... must..."
Raven turned to him and clenched her fists. "I CAN'T!"
"Iure Sanguinis, Mors tua, vita mea aeternum..."
The Archmagus crumpled to the bloodstained earth, his face pale. He gasped for breath.
Trigonus face was now a mask of blood and ripped muscle. A skeletal grin transfigured his features, yet still the corpse continued to chant beyond human endurance. Arella grew paler and paler as the chant continued, her flesh withering and dying by inches.
Raven reached out one last time.
"Mother..."
Arella closed her eyes.
"Terra es, terram ibis..."
Raven's hand turned to a fist. She began to glow with a strange bluish light. When she opened her eyes they glowed a fiery crimson.
Trigonus continued. The winds whipped away what remained of his silvery hair. He was little more than a bloody skeleton held upright by terrible will and whatever eldritch connection bound the hapless Sorceress to him. Arella's left arm cracked with the sound of breaking branches and the limb crumbled into dust.
The Archmagus let out one last bubbly cry of dismay then collapsed onto his face. His fine robes fluttered about him. The head of his staff winked out like a candle in a windstorm.
"Ecce quomodo Moritur, hoc sustinate damnosa heredit- accckk!"
Robin's eyes widened. The scene seemed frozen. The cloaked Raven, who he knew as the Witch, had screamed a wordless cry of fury, and a bolt of something terrible had streaked towards the Infernist.
No... not the Infernist... Robin shook his head in sadness.
Arella finally gasped, a fist sized hole appearing right through the center of her chest. She touched it wonderingly, like a child exploring something unexpected.
She looked up.
The Witch lowered her hand. "Forgive me..." She whispered. She lowered her head.
"Raven..." Arella said faintly. Her words did not reach the Witch, torn apart by the wind, yet by some quirk the sound reached Robin's ears. With her head lowered Raven couldn't see the faint smile that flickered across her mother's lips.
"Thank you..." She whispered. Then she crumbled to ash in an instant, lost on the winds.
Trigonus slumped forward, his incantation lost in a shriek of agony. Reddish smoke infused him, hiding him behind a cloud of crimson mist. Raven lifted her face quizzically past the cloud of red and stared directly at Robin.
He blinked.
"You should not be here..." She whispered.
Robin blinked again. "You're telling me?"
The red cloud became charged with a dark energy, and the whole world seemed to contract to a single point within it. The Witch turned and winked out of existence, fleeing what was happening.
Robin raised a hand. "Wait!"
A crackling sound drew his attention to the cloud. The mist had contracted to a single blood-red sphere. The crackling was caused by tendrils of energy that wisped off from it.
Robin winced. "Aw... crap."
It exploded. The world flashed white...
Robin "said howdy" do to Oblivion.
"Robin! Dude, are you alright?"
Robin's eyes fluttered and he stared up into a bristle haired muzzle and a huge pair of nostrils. Starting, he slammed his forehead into the muzzle and cried out.
"Yahh!"
"OW... my dose..." The horse staggered back and collapsed onto his rump, his head shaking from side to side.
Robin rubbed his head and scowled.
"What the hell was that about?"
The horse cocked his head irritably and snorted. "You tell me, sleeping beauty. You were tossing and turning all night. What was that, hmm?"
He turned sly. "You weren't having a naughty dream, were you?"
Robin raised an eyebrow and gave him a dubious look. "Not unless you call infernal magic, mass destruction, and large quantities of blood sexy."
The horse blinked. "I always knew you were kinky, Rob old boy, but I had no idea. What would they even CALL that?"
Robin rolled his eyes. "Please." He blinked, then smirked a little. "Hey Garfield, your ass is in the fire."
The horse blinked. "Aw come on, Robin. I was just ribbin' ya. Nothing serious. You don't have to get all pissy."
Robin gestured. "No, I mean your ass is really IN the fire."
Garfield cocked his head again, then looked down.
"That would explain the cooking smell." He said reasonably.
The next few minutes were spent with the horse running pell mell about the camp scattering cinders and Robin's meager possessions all around the clearing. Robin simultaneously tried to chase the panicked equine, remove the hot coals from the horse's flank, and avoid being trampled at the same time.
It wasn't exactly morning coffee, but it woke him up well enough.
The inclusion of a smoking crater about three inches from the horses right front hoof stopped the production dead in its tracks.
Robin and the horse looked upward.
"I told you to leave, and instead you reenacted the siege of Karnos on my front lawn. So which are side are you, Knightling? The Karnoites or the Tillian Brotherhood?"
Robin raised an eyebrow. "Well, seeing as how they both got ambushed and wiped out by a third party..."
He winced, having gotten her point a bit too late. "Oh man, I walked right into that one."
The Witch hovered above them in stunning defiance of gravity. Her fingertip still smoked.
"Hmm. So. Not entirely uneducated, I see."
Robin shrugged. "I like to read." He said, a tad defensively. "Is that a crime?"
The Witch started, then lowered her hand and shook her head. "No. No, it's not. Though to hear some people tell it..."
Garfield leaned in and stage whispered to Robin. "Dude... you never told me you were a book nerd! You two have something in common. That's cute, in a, what the hell are you thinking she's evil not to mention old enough to be your grandmother's grandmother sort of way."
The Witch sighed. "And another childhood dream shatters beyond repair. I'd always wondered what horses would say if they could speak. Apparently the answer is, nothing worth hearing."
Robin snorted in amusement despite himself. The horse in question gave him a betrayed look. "Dude... weak."
The Witch turned. "In any case, I suggest you hurry. In a week or two the snows will make the mountain pass back to Gotham proper inaccessable. You'll have to curve around the moutains to the south, and the Kandarians have a particular love of horses."
She snorted. "Well... their flesh, anyway."
Garfield froze, then began wandering about the camp nosing Robin's scattered possessions in a pile.
"We need to leave. Like, now."
Robin cocked his head. "I thought I was going to be a nutlover come sun-up."
Raven crossed her arms and stared at him. It was still impossible to see into her hood but he caught that flash of something shiny again high on the forehead. A flicker of something undefinable rose in him and he blinked at the strangeness of it. She immediately broke even that small amount of contact.
"Things have changed, Knightling. It is even more imperative that you leave as soon as possible."
Robin frowned. "What changed? Was turning me into a squirrel just an idle threat?" His frown became a scowl. "You turned all my comrades into animals! What, I don't even merit that level of consideration?"
He could hear the incredulous scowl in her voice. "Will you listen to yourself? I can't believe you'd even begin to take offense at me NOT turning you into a fuzzy animal. Besides, it wasn't a threat, it was a warning. As I said, however, the situation has changed." She quieted, oddly subdued.
"They do that, I fear, when I'm involved."
He blinked in sudden realization. "The dream..."
She sighed tiredly. "That... was not a dream."
He frowned. "What was it then?"
She slowly floated down to his level and sighed, one pale, delicate and long fingered hand pushing back the hood of the cloak. Robin stared at her open mouthed.
She was... beautiful. Not in a classical sense. Certainly no odes to her undying beauty would be written by any lovestruck poets. Perhaps striking would be a better term for her. Poetry didn't do her justice. It was an alien sort of beauty. Amethyst colored hair cut short, her bangs longer than the sides or back. She was slight and very very pale, as though she didn't get enough sun, and her bone structure was birdlike and fragile looking. A small jewel winked on her forehead like a third eye. She wouldn't meet his eyes, always staring just to the left of his astonished gaze or to the right, or at his mouth. She definately wasn't old. In fact she looked about his age.
He swallowed heavily.
"Look... Robin, what happened last night shouldn't have happened. I can only surmise that whatever gods that exist are exceedingly cruel..." She hesitated.
He watched her carefully, his initial surprise turning to concern. "It really happened didn't it?"
She nodded mutely.
He cocked his head. "You lied to me. About never killing anyone."
Her face betrayed an instant of pain and he immediately regretted what he said.
"Hey... I'm sorry, that was..."
She shook her head. "No... no that IS what it looked like. I suppose I did lie... in a manner of speaking. I killed her body, yes. Her soul... it had been dead a long time. What I... it was a shell."
He frowned, but didn't argue with her. Instead he changed the subject. "How... WHY did I see that?"
She turns her gaze to him again. "It is difficult to explain without putting you in danger. Well, more danger than you are in now. Suffice to say that you are safe from my magic... I cannot afford the cost touching you with my power would exact. It is all the more necessary for you to leave. Please. Before it is too late."
Robin crossed his arms and looked stubborn. "Being evasive and speaking in riddles is not a good way to earn trust, Raven. Besides, even if I wanted to, which I don't, I can't leave. I already told you."
She sighed. "Yes... honor. You can imagine how I feel about that. I recall that honor did my grandfather's men very little good, in the end."
His mouth tightened and narrowed his eyes. "I can't exactly argue with that, but cheapening their sacrifice to win an argument is hardly what I would call just. Besides, sometimes all that matters is that someone stood up and was counted."
Her mouth dropped open for a split second before she managed to control her reaction and she turned slightly.
"Touche."
An irritated voice broke the intensity of the moment like an outburst of flatulence.
"Are you two done flirting, because I would really like to get the hell out of here."
Robin rounded on the green horse irritably and thus missed the indignant look on Raven's face.
"We are NOT flirting, and you and I are NOT leaving either."
Garfield dropped the bundle he had gripped between his lips and stared at Raven, his head raising in surprise.
"Wow. You're pretty well preserved for an old chick. How many virgin bloodbaths did THAT take?"
Robin gaped. "Garfield!"
Garfield gave him an incredulous look. "What? It's a valid question! She's a Witch, man! It comes with the territory."
Raven raised one fine eyebrow before fixing Robin with a decidedly unamused stare.
"Your friend lacks tact as well as opposable thumbs."
Robin glared at him. "My friend apparently lacks a sense of self preservation as well."
Garfield gave an equine whicker. "Thumbs are over-rated when you have people to do your grasping for you. Relax, Rob. She already said she couldn't cast any spells on us."
Raven shook her head. "I said that I wouldn't, not that I couldn't. I was also only referring to Robin when I said that. You are aware that there are worse things to be than a talking green horse. A talking green horse that HAS opposable thumbs, for one."
One might have said that a green horse with a singed ass couldn't possibly look more ridiculous than it already did just from the sheer fact that it was, in fact, a green horse with a singed ass. Garfield somehow managed to give a lie to that observation, however, as he attempted to hide his four hundred fifty pound bulk behind a one hundred fifty pound squire.
Robin sighed. "He's not normally like this. Admittedly he suffers from the delusion that he's some sort of comedian, but he usually only inflicts it on people he's comfortable around."
She shrugs. "No, no it actually makes sense. I mean, what COULD be worse than being hounded by an honor obsessed, stubborn, reckless Knightling?"
He smirked. "Being hounded by an honor obsessed, stubborn, reckless Knightling with a wise-cracking, smart assed, heckling loud mouth green warhorse."
Despite herself her lips quirked into a very slight smile. "Exactly."
They both realized, a few seconds later, that they were staring. She started and turned away, floating back up towards her house. He removed his hat and rubbed his hair, looking embarassed.
She turned as she floated upward and frowned. "If you're going to clutter up my lawn the least you can do is make yourself useful. Do you have any experience with gardening?"
He blinked. "Um... that's not really a course of study in the Knight's academy."
She shook her head and retreated into the treehouse without another word.