Chapter 3
Weak and fading sunlight poured in through a gap in the curtains, bathing a small plain room in golden light. The walls were a grubby off-white, the carpet a non-descript grey. A small bed took up one corner, but most of the usable space was taken up by a mirror, and cardboard boxes filled with clothes salvaged from more forgiving places.
In the centre of the room, a tall willowy figure eased herself into the "costume" that her clients had provided for tonight's entertainment. In a bag at her feet, lay a pair of ragged jeans and an oversized shirt. Her outfit would most likely not survive the night, and it was generally easier to get home if it was clear one was no longer working.
The outfit so graciously donated by tonight's benefactor left little to the imagination, revealing substantial inches of clear, pale, unmarred skin. Giving little thought to the tasteless nature of the apparel, its wearer busied herself with piling her locks on top of her head in a cascade of tawny waves. Careful to leave the expanse of her neck tantalisingly clear, the girl fastened the last clip in her hair.
Just as she was putting the last touches to her appearance, a knock sounded at her door, and a head poked around the woodwork. Upon seeing her fully clothed figure, the boy who had knocked, stepped further into the room. Stepping up behind the young woman, he undid and retied the lacings of her top. There was nothing sexual in the action, it was merely business. The residents of this household dealt with sex and violence to often to risk contaminating their sanctuary with it.
With a final nod, the young boy stepped back, catching his companion's gaze in the mirror. She smiled and turned to face him. No words were spoken, but he watched as golden eyes ran critically over his attire, a pale brow furrowing as she pieced together where he was most likely headed.
"The clubs again Henry?" her voice was soft, bland, not accusatory in anyway. But there was a hint of concern that comforted him. Three years her junior, it was nice to know some adults still cared.
The boy named Henry nodded, folding his arms across his chest and resting against the nearest wall. Barefoot, and naked from the waist up, his only clothing was a pair of strategically ripped black jeans. The harsh, solid colour contrasted dramatically with his pale skin, making him seem younger and more vulnerable that he truly was. Everyone here was more jaded than they seemed.
"I won't be gone long tonight, I'll be back before the girls get in, and Matt said he'd watch who they were going with, keep the more dangerous Johns away. He won't openly confront them, but he said he'd let the girls know if one was driving by so they could be otherwise engaged. He wanted to know if you'll cover him tonight since he won't be able to work if he's 'baby-sitting'?"
The girl nodded, waving her hand in a general air of consent. "Sure, tell him that's no problem. Hopefully Alex will be turn up soon and we can get back to our regular routines." Her brow furrowed in thought, her teeth biting into her lower lip as she gazed unseeingly out the window. Henry let her think, it was better that way. He knew she was worried about Alex. The young man had never come home after his last job, and whilst this was not unheard of, it was unusual. Eventually she sighed and seemed to bring herself back to reality. The sun had now slipped below the horizon and across the city, lights were beginning to wink into existence.
She bent down and lifted her bag onto her shoulder. Nodding to the younger boy once, she slipped past him and out the door. He watched from the window as she walked briskly down the street.
No one ever said goodbye here. It was too much of a jinx.
Red-X scowled beneath his mask as he waited for the security beams to halt, once more, in their dance across the vault. With patience, long cultivated from years of thievery, he watched the red lines as they once again assembled themselves into formation. Two more rotations and his way would be clear. Contrary to popular belief, the lasers did not activate at random; the pattern was merely complex.
As he waited in the shadows, the master thief let his thoughts run over the previous days. His dreams had been plagued by two sets of eyes – one gold, one violet. The golden-eyed girl intrigued him, he admired her will to survive, but her haunting of him was borne of guilt and an incessant feeling that he owed her something. The violet eyes haunted him in an entirely different manner. He had woken, drenched in sweat, the scent of roses, cold water, and thyme filling his nostrils. His fist had been clenched as though caught in the act of caressing violet hair.
Grunting, X shook himself and forcibly evicted those thought from his mind. His reaction to the dark witch was nothing more than physical. Damn he hated biology. As the lasers settled themselves in the penultimate arrangement, X tensed, ready to spring. When the beams settled for the final time, he would have less than five seconds to make it clear across the room and into the shadow of the vault's inner doorway; as the deadly lights once again fell into controlled disorder, X shot across the room. His body twisted and turned, tumbling over the stationary lasers in his haste to reach the doorframe. He made it, just as the beams once again maintained their erratic wanderings.
Not even breathing heavily, the thief set about twisting the inner vault's lock into the right combination. He gave a satisfied smirk as he heard the tumblers fall into place. Pushing the door open, he marched swiftly across the room. There suspended in an ever-revolving force field were several cylinders of xynothium. As he retrieved the precious vials, X toyed with the idea that this was almost too easy. Moments before he had arrived at the plant, an explosion had ripped across the city, marking the escape of Plasmus from the city jail. None of the titans would be bothering him tonight. It was almost a pity.
Eying the substantial amounts of xynothium he had obtained, X decided to make an early night of it and simply teleport out of the vault. Pressing the button on his suit, he shuttered out of existence.
Raven allowed a slight scowl to mar her features as she gazed down at the sleeping form of the man who had once been Plasmus. How the Jump City Police Force kept letting him escape was beyond her. As the sleeping man was collected and taken back to his containment cell, Raven felt a minute tug on the back of her subconscious. She was about to react to it, determined to isolate its location, when Robin's voice cut across her thoughts.
"Hey raven, we're heading out for pizza, you want to come?" The Boy Wonder's question was innocent, sincere, but he was frowning, as though aware that the sorceress's focus was not on him.
Raven shook her head, drawing her hood up to hide her face.
"No," she said, "you guys go ahead. I need to meditate." She was tempted to say that she was headed straight back to the tower, but he would see through her lie. Instead, she settled for half-truths, she fully intended to be alone and meditate, she just did not intend to do so right away.
Robin sighed and looked back to the other members of the other members of the team, before turning back to the empathy. "If you're sure –"
"I'm sure". Raven swiftly cut across Robin's words, eager to thwart any lecture before it started. She was running out of time. "I'll see you later."
The dark witch melted into ground, leaving the Boy Wonder to stand frowning at the space where she had been.
Golden eyes fluttered steadily open, in time to see a stream of heavy viscous blood, run steadily down to the floor. The drops pooled on the concrete floor in a macabre parody of Jackson Pollock's art. Pale hands made to push a battered and bleeding body up from off the floor, only to be brought short by the chains and cuffs bound tightly around two slender wrists.
Laughter echoed menacingly in her ears as she instinctively struggled against the restraints. Forcing herself to be calm, she focused her mind on the pain in her wrists and across her chest. Soft, golden light winked into existence, only to be extinguished as with a crack, a whip made tearing contact with her back. A ragged scream tore itself from her lips as she felt flesh split and shred beneath the corded edge.
"Now, now, none of that. We want to watch you bleed." A woman's voice simpering and insincere in the darkness was joined by undeniably male laughter. She shuddered as she felt a warm, moist tongue, run across her skin; lapping at the blood that was dying there, sucking at her skin.
Forcing her mind to ignore the sensations she refused to acknowledge the tears that were beginning to slip down her cheeks. Her concentration shattered as she felt another pair of hands begin to explore her body, running across her chest and down between her thighs; another set once again began to crack the whip against her back.
Raven stepped from her portal of shadows, onto the poorly lit rooftop that stood in the midst of the 'bad lands'. The street lights flickered down below, offering a sickly illumination to the filthy streets.
Teenagers – though some were young enough to barely merit the description – idled about on street corners, whilst well dressed men and women examined them like cattle waiting to be sold. Raven felt the bile rising in her throat as she saw adult after adult, choosing a child and leading them away. Though this was bad enough in itself, it was the looks of resentment on the other children's faces, the frustration at not having been picked themselves that made her truly sick. How could anybody want this?
"It's the only way they know how to survive."
Raven whipped around at the sound of the electronic voice. Blank eyes, in a white skull mask eyed her critically as she gazed into a hidden face. Gradually, her attention slid back to the dimly lit streets below. Looking into the haggard and jaded faces of boys and girls barely older than her own, Raven shuddered to think what had put such despair into their eyes.
"This world is very different, from the one you see from your tower." Though the computerised voice, masked his true tone, Raven thought she heard a hint of derision in X's words. She looked sharply at him, but the masked face was turned away, gazing down at the scene before them.
Deciding against replying to his comment, Raven asked the question which had been preying on her mind. "Why are you here?"
The response was instantaneous, but the masked villain did not turn to look at her. "I was waiting for you." He said, "I had a feeling you would come."
The empath's brow furrowed in confusion, "Why?"
At this question, Red X turned around, settling blank, lifeless eyes on the girl. A number of witty retorts crossed his mind, but he chose to hold them back – they could be used another time – right now, he had questions to ask.
"How much do you know about magic?"
The question startled Raven, of all the things she had been expecting him to say, this was not on the list. "A lot. There are of course those who know more about magic than I do, but none of them are in the city."
X nodded once, resisting the urge to take his mask off so he could run his hand through his hair. He was frustrated. He did know why he was so driven to find out more about the strange golden-eyed girl he'd rescued two days ago, he could not understand why his mind was plaguing him with questions and queries, and the distinct feeling that he was somehow responsible for her. That alone was ridiculous, but someone the simple knowledge of the fact did not appease his conscience.
Then there was Raven. Red X had not failed to notice the way her cloak clung to her form like a second skin. Curves normally lost beneath billows of material were now accentuated as the light breeze hugged the cloak to her body. His eyes were drawn to the gently curved lips and stubborn chin just visible amidst the shadows of the hood. He had no objection to admitting he lusted after her, the dark titan was, after all, incredibly well formed. It just bothered him that his body, if not his mind, reacted so very strongly to her presence.
He realised he had been silent too long, when the girl before him cleared her throat slightly to engage his attention. Cocking his head to one side, he regarded the young super-hero intently.
"What do you know about healing magic, or the psychic ability to heal?" he asked.
Raven thought about his question for a moment before answering. "Healing magic itself is relatively common. There are spells, incantations that allow almost anyone – unless they're a mystical null – to heal minor to moderate injuries in themselves or others. Those spells generally have to be said aloud, unless the caster is incredibly strong magically. Major injuries, the ones that put the recipient closer to Death's door, would require a proficient and powerful magic user to heal them. If a lesser spell caster tried it, they would die in the attempt, the rush of magic would be too great; stronger spell caster's also run that risk."
As she spoke, X allowed all the information to sink in, using it to formulate his next question. "What about psychic ability?" he questioned.
Raven sighed. "The ability to heal injuries or disease using the mind is very rare. I know of only a few people throughout all of history who could do it on a scale larger than that of a paper cut. You have to understand that any form of psychic ability, draws on that person's own essence, their life force. Every time the person heals a wound in themselves or in another person, they sacrifice a part of themselves. The act of healing is incredibly draining for the healer. Should they try to heal too greater an injury, or too many people all at once their heart could literally explode inside their chest. The exertion would be too great for their body to maintain."
"Is there anything the owners of this ability have had in common?"
Raven nodded. "There is very little information on them, but one book – the Book of Ma'at – tells of a man in Ancient Egypt, who was reputed to have been able to heal others simply by holding their hand. He would take their hand, and healer and patient would be surrounded a soft golden light. The man was thought to be favoured by Amun-Ra, since his eyes were the colour of the sun disk itself."
X's eyes widened beneath his mask. "His eyes were gold?"
"Yes, it is a feature attributed to every historical figure reputed to have had this ability, have shared." Raven thought, that X was about to ask more, but her communicator chose that moment to go off. She looked down, startled at the intrusive noise, and when she looked up, he was gone. Flipping open her communicator, she did not bother to follow the psychic link that connected her to thief. His questions had confused her enough as it was.
As the moon started her decent in the night sky, a boy, fifteen years of age, stumbled down a dark and dirty alley way. His skin was hot with fever, dry and cracking around his eyes and mouth. His eyes were glassy, unseeing, lost to the mists of fever and delusion. Open sores on his body, oozed puss and fluid, spilling a putrid, sickly smell into the night air. Barefoot and naked, he had stripped himself of clothing in a desperate attempt to cool himself. Instead, his body simultaneously burned and froze, torn between ice and fire. Pressing his hands hard against the rough brick, the boy ignored the stinging pain as skin was scraped and peeled away from his palms. As coughs continually racked and tore through his body, his only concern was staying upright long enough to reach home.
Home. Not even his real one, but enough of a home to make him feel safe whilst he slept. A family, one he chose for himself, or at least in part. He wanted to go home.
His vision began to grey as his coughing prevented sufficient oxygen from reaching his lungs. Giving an almighty heave, he winced as he felt coppery liquid bubble up from inside his lungs and from out his mouth. Retching the boy fell to his knees, amongst the rubbish and filth of the streets. Blood bubbled frothily from his lips, staining his chin and cheeks in the darkness. In the fetid, stinking alley, no one heard him scream.
A/N: For any hard-core mythologists out there, I realise that 'Amun-Ra' is technically not the appropriate name for this deity, but I thought that since it is the most comercialised form of the name I would use it. As always thank you for reading.