Well, 'tis the end of "Robining Season". By Robining Season, I mean the end of March. By the end of March, I mean that Robin is no longer the featured Titan on my Teen Titans calendar, and that I now have to put up with the wonderful Mas y Menos… Eh heh heh heh… In other news, it is the start of the Easter holidays here in the UK – I have since learned from my buddy Narroch that the US doesn't get a two-week holiday at Easter, so finally it seems that (in the absence of a graduation ceremony, more than two extracurricular clubs and cheerleaders) my crappy little British school has a perk. Yay for me. But I digress. The reason that I was pointing out that it was the Easter holidays was to point out that it is exactly three years since I first saw the wonderful Teen Titans Season Two. Easter holidays, 2004, and there's me sitting cursing that I had picked up the original New Teen Titans comic where Terra is actually revealed to be a traitor not even a month beforehand. I didn't even know who she was, and certainly didn't she was going to be in the cartoon. But as soon as I saw her, I was like; "She's bad". It kind of ruined it for me, but whatever. I still enjoyed the season very much indeed. And I just pointed that out because this fic is set in Season Two, and… um…
O.o
Uh, well, you all had kind of the reactions I had anticipated (in reference to the revelation at the end of the last chapter), and that's good, I guess. But I have many more surprises, some of which come in this chapter right here. Ka ka ka. :)
Thankyou to; Me (yes, I am evil. :D); KGDiva (outrageous? Why, yes indeed, it is. How dare I.); LoopyLousise123 (sly fox. Heh heh. Anyone seeing a pattern here?); Dark Austral (the seer is gonna be sorted out right here, right now for ya…); Amara-chan (okay, so I didn't update as fast as humanly possible, but at least everyone else has suffered with you… :P); Quinn and His Quill (Slade is NOT the Avenger, Quinny-Boy, so ha! Although you are right about a lot of other things, as shall be revealed now…); Narroch (oh, you knew I was evil before this…); Guardian of Azarath (all will be revealed soon, my fellow Brit!); Luneko (um, is your head unexploded now? Because you can't read my fic with your head exploded…); Amber 13 (yeah, the site has been playing up quite a bit recently, but I never took RTT down…); Yami-Tai (mm, good theory on the Master of Time. And yeah, no-one tells Robin anything…); Kami-Elf (uh, hope the aspirin worked…?); Someone (oh, well, I'm glad you like it, whoever you are! Thanks!); and Jennie (new reviewer, with mucho reviews! Thankyou soooo much! Glad you like my lil' story enough to have sat for a whole day reading the whole lot… O.o ALL of your questions will be answered, but right now… well, not right now, as it is. But you will get them, and thankyou for all the reviews on this, and Underneath Your Clothes, and Lace and Leather, and… you reviewed so much, I can't even remember now…. But thankyoooooou!).
Those who dropped out waaaay back don't know what they're missing…
Namely having an excuse to yell at me in a review. Heh heh.
And now, on with my vile little show…
Circus Boy
"Dear boy," she said softly, "My dear, sweet Richard… You never were…"
Robin's entire vocabulary escaped him – he tried to speak but the words wouldn't come to his lips; his mind was blank.
Blank but for three words;
You. Never. Were.
You never were…
The seer's indulgent smile only deepened at his utterly gobsmacked expression.
"Such a blow to you, I see," she whispered, shaking her head. "All this time you thought that you were truly worth something, somebody that was destined to save the world… and now you see that you are nothing." Her smile twisted. "You never have been, circus boy, and you never will be…"
"There's…" He struggled with the words, as though trying to speak a foreign language. "There's… no Avenger?..."
The old woman clasped her hands together.
"That is correct."
"Why? How?... I just… I can't…"
She chuckled slightly as he floundered, confused and bewildered.
A small, vulnerable creature, suddenly snared in an inescapable net.
"There's no Avenger, Richard," she said, her voice mockingly gentle. "In fact, there is no anything. There is no prophecy, as a matter of fact… Well, at least not the one you and I now converse of."
"I…" His dark eyebrows knitted together. "And I suppose you're… you're not really a seer?"
The old woman snorted.
"Of course not. In fact, I'm not even an old woman…"
"You aren't?" Robin's voice was weak, but actually he wasn't truly surprised…
"She" uttered a short, sharp laugh.
"What, you think I'm truly this ugly?..."
He merely stared at her; he was utterly incapable of doing anything else.
Even as he watched her form begin to melt, taking another shape, the way Beast Boy did. A shape-shifter, certainly, but not merely of the animalistic variety. "She" was far more, something magical and powerful…
Something, or someone, he had met before.
Within that half-melted state, "she" straightened up, grew taller, became trimmer, tighter. "Her" entire form changed, from that of an old woman to a young man. Iron-grey straggled wisps darkened, thickened, falling in spiky ebony waves around the shoulders; crimson robes became black, with black leather pants and a white polo neck sweater beneath. The wrinkles on the surface smoothed out, the pale translucent skin Robin recognised as being Azarathian becoming flawless.
The eyes – those brilliant emerald eyes – stayed the same.
Perfectly solid, perfectly handsome, and perfectly male, Seth Elliott fished into his pocket, seemingly ignoring Robin completely, as the boy stared at him, speechless even for his suspicions.
He lit himself up a cigarette with a flicker of blue fire that he drew from his fingertips, taking a huge drag and blowing it into the air. Through the cloud of it, he finally directed his glittering gaze towards Robin.
He grinned.
"This is the part where you say; "I knew it all along, you devious scoundrel, you!"…"
Robin stared at him still.
"Or maybe I've read too many Famous Five books," Seth reasoned, putting his cigarette to his lips again.
"I… I did know," Robin said eventually, his words forced. He looked at Seth's eyes, seeing them glint maliciously at him.
"Of course you did," Seth replied patronisingly. "That's why you believed everything I ever told you, "Avenger"…"
"No." Robin shook his head. "No, I… not that. You had me… I mean, I really did believe that… I just…" He paused, frustrated. "I knew it was you. The seer, I mean. The second I saw her… I knew it was you."
"Yeah?" Seth sounded as though he was going to burst out laughing. "Go on, then, Mr Boy Sidekick-of-the-World's-Greatest Detective-Wonder; indulge me…"
"Your eyes." Robin raised his chin defiantly as he saw Seth raise his eyebrows. "It's your eyes, and…" He trailed off, realising… "And… and the Master of Time! That was you as well, wasn't it?!"
Seth smirked.
"Guilty as charged," he replied. "I'm a shape-shifter, biatch." He shook his head in mock-disappointment. "But you fail to see all, Boy Wonder." He snorted. "Some detective…"
Robin frowned, wracking his brain…
He sighed heavily.
"The guy on the motor bike?..."
"Obviously." Seth took another puff of his cigarette. "Keep going…"
"I… I don't…"
"Come on now, this is hardly Charades!" Seth snapped.
"But I—" He cut himself off with a tiny sharp cry as he felt a sudden stinging pain at his wrist; and remembering the "A" carved there (and the implications of that), it hit him over the head with all the subtlety of a brick.
"Cordelia Silver?"
"Naturally. One of my more attractive disguises…"
Robin's masked eyes narrowed, his wrist still aching.
"Why? Why do all this? You said that there isn't even a prophecy-"
"No," Seth interrupted airily. "I said that the prophecy to which you were referring was non-existent. The prophecy concerning the mortal gods, and the "Avenger"… none of it's real. I made it all up."
Robin stared at him all over again.
"Why?" He asked eventually, not being able to comprehend why Seth would waste a whole sixteen years of his life for a "prophecy"; one which he had made up.
"Because it was necessary." Seth raised his eyebrows and looked over Robin's shoulder. "Oh, I see our little rapist has awoken. How quaint…"
Robin whipped around, his attention momentarily averted from Seth. True to Seth's word, Slade was getting shakily to his feet, his single grey eye – wide – fixed on the Ex-Head Senator of the Azarathian Senate.
Suddenly furious, Robin turned back to Seth.
"Rapist?..." Robin clenched his fists so tightly that it hurt. "But you're the seer! You're the one that made him do it!!!"
"As part of the prophecy."
"BUT THERE IS NO FUCKING PROPHECY!" Robin screamed at him. "You just said there wasn't!"
Seth raised his eyebrows again.
"A tender subject, I see."
"I… I…" Robin put his hands to his hair, tugging at his jet spikes in frustration. "You… he… I… I still have nightmares about it, you bastard! And it was bad enough, thinking that he did it because he had to, because it would fulfil a prophecy, and now… Now it was all for nothing?..."
Seth smirked.
"Oh, not for nothing. I had my reasons."
"Then explain them."
Slade.
He was standing behind Robin, his powerful arms folded, but at this moment in time he was not interested in Robin – the common enemy now was Seth, and whether they liked it or not, Robin and Slade were against him together. Robin tensed up slightly as he sensed Slade's presence behind him, but did not turn to him; at this drastic time, he would rather have had his back to Slade than to Seth. As far as he knew, Slade didn't have some kind of knife on him, at least, metaphorical or otherwise…
Seth snorted with laughter, taking another puff of his cigarette.
"Ooh, I feel so threatened…" He laughed, a certain arrogance laced within the mirthful sound. "You honestly think that you could pose a threat to me, you pathetic mortals?... I could blow you apart from the inside out by snapping my fingers…"
"But you won't."
Robin was surprised at the confidence in Slade's voice as the masked villain spoke from behind him.
Seth waved his cigarette lazily.
"You're right, of course," he agreed breezily. "But why are you so sure of it?"
Slade's solitary grey eye narrowed.
"Because you need us. Both of us."
Seth laughed.
"Obviously. Otherwise I'd have killed you both by now, right?..."
"Right." Slade didn't seem too perplexed by the revelation. "Would you care to explain yourself, then, or do we just have to sit about until you decide it is a fit time to do away with our pathetic hides?"
Seth raised his dark eyebrows.
"You know, I never did like you much, Slade," he said somewhat cautiously. "You're an arrogant bastard."
"The feeling is mutual," Slade replied calmly, "as is the statement."
Seth shrugged, then consulted the watch in his hand. For the first time – some detective – Robin recognised it to be the same one that had hung around the "Master of Time's" neck.
At last things were beginning to come together. The "seer" had set up for Slade to perform the "Summoning Ritual" tonight; simultaneously, the "Master of Time" had told Robin to come here, the sole intent of both actions being to bring Robin and Slade together now, at this time – the two pawns in Seth's malicious game.
Although… the Slade here now was not the Slade of Robin's own time, nor, vice versa, was he from this time, but a time fifteen years previous to this one. Why did he suddenly get a horrible feeling that Seth's plan, if it could be called that, was much wider-spread than he had anticipated?...
"Well, seeing as we have time to kill, I guess it can't hurt to explain everything to the pair of you," Seth sighed, pocketing the watch. "It will, after all, be the last thing you will ever know in your futile and pathetic lives…"
"First," he went on breezily, "let me separate fact from fiction. I may have made up the "prophecy" – at least, the one I relayed to you both – but much of the legend that surrounds the orb is true. It is a vessel harbouring extreme power, and it does require the fulfilment of a prophecy and the possession of a key to unlock this power. That, however, is where the truth of my tale ends. The power within it was not torn from monsters…" His green eyes glittered strangely, sending a chill down Robin's spine. "…It was torn from me."
"But you have powers!" Robin burst out. "The shape-shifting, the magic…"
"Oh, yes, I am not completely powerless, I admit," Seth agreed languidly. "Arella was not so cruel as to leave me with nothing, even after I tried to take control of Azarath all those centuries ago…"
"So… there were no monsters?" Slade asked, his eye narrowing.
"Nope," Seth clarified cheerfully, taking another puff of his cigarette. "It was I that tried to take control of that wretched dimension, but that witch showed up with her army and stopped me. But it did not end there, you understand; she stripped me of my dangerous powers, locking them away within the Orb of Azarath. She did, however, leave me with things she considered to be less dangerous – my uncanny ability of shape-shifting into any form I choose, even being able to turn myself into an exact duplicate of another, for example. Even so, it did not come without strings; even though I could still change my form, she cursed me so that people would still recognise me…"
"Your eyes…" Robin realised. "You can't change your eyes…"
"Right. No matter what form I take, my eyes always stay the same green. At first it appears to make little difference, but by the end of this little escapade, you had begun to work it out, Robin. It is most annoying… She left me with some basic magical powers also, and without realising it, she also left me with my control over will. I can quite literally force people to do what I want, and they don't object. They become my puppet."
"You did that to Marcus," Robin remembered. "In Azarath; Raven said you did it to Marcus, to make him agree with you. You did it to the entire Senate…"
"Oh right, like that was the first time I had done it," Seth snorted. His green eyes glittered wickedly at Robin. "But he's not the only one I've done it to." He looked from Robin to Slade and then back again, grinning. "You two have both fallen victim to it also."
Robin blinked.
"We have?"
"Oh yes, many times," Seth informed him. "Whenever you've had an urge to do something, but haven't known why… that's been me forcing you to do something. It's mostly been little things, but there was that one time when I made you both do something very unpleasant indeed…"
Robin cocked his head, looking at Seth in confusion, thinking hard…
His masked eye widened, remembering…
That night in Arkham Asylum, preceding the rape, he and Slade – the Slade of his own time – had kissed, touched each other, practically made out… and neither of them had known why. Something had been… forcing them…
Robin stared at him, aghast.
"That was you?..." He asked faintly.
Seth smiled, nodding slightly.
"Why, goddamn you?!" Slade spat from behind Robin, his fists clenching, before the Boy Wonder could offer an outraged, disgusted outburst of his own.
Seth looked at them both as though he thought them stupid.
"Because it was funny," he said, tossing his head slightly. "Why else?"
They were speechless; the both of them – arch-villain, Teen Titan, both speechless…
Seth sighed.
"Well, it was funny from where I was standing…"
"Then you were there," Robin whispered. "Somehow, you were there, watching us…"
Seth smiled oddly.
"Oh, yes; it was really rather amusing, actually…"
"Wh-when did you leave?"
"I didn't." Seth nodded pertly at Slade. "Had to make sure he did his job, didn't I?"
The rape; that terrible, painful, frightening, homosexual rape…
"You watched it?..." Robin asked weakly.
His insides heaved involuntarily as Seth nodded in assertion.
Okay, here comes my lunch…
"You can't do that!" Robin snapped, near tears despite his anger. "You can't just… just…"
Seth snorted.
"Of course I can; after all, you're only mortals…"
"Then what are you?" Slade challenged him.
Seth turned his attention to him, ignoring the quivering, furious Robin.
"You pose an interesting question," he acknowledged, putting his head to one side. "I suppose you could call me Azarathian. I was certainly born there, and I believe that my father was Azarathian. My mother was a demon, part of a clan, if you will, of women who appeared beautiful on the surface, but who were in fact terrible murderous flesh-eaters beneath. Legend says that they were like mermaids, luring handsome young men to them with empty promises, then killing and devouring them. However, I believe that my mother became carried away; although she most certainly killed my father when she was done with him, she became impregnated by him."
"And this was how long ago?" Slade bit out, sounding irritated.
"Hmm…" Seth looked at the ceiling, thinking. "Gosh, I don't know now… Seven hundred years ago, maybe? Perhaps more; I can't remember…"
Robin and Slade stared at him, speechless, neither of them sure whether Seth was having them on or not; he certainly didn't look as though he was seven hundred-odd years old. He didn't look a day older than twenty-seven, at the most, but then Robin remembered his ability to shape-shift. And if he truly was that old, then he was clearly not human; maybe he simply couldn't age.
Slade seemed somewhat impressed, although still pissed off.
"So what are you?"
"I was just establishing that when you so rudely interrupted me," Seth replied snippily. "As I was saying…. Whoever my father was, he got my mother pregnant, and being an uncivilised demon living in the wilderness of Azarath seven hundred years ago, it wasn't like she could phone up and book an abortion. She probably didn't even realise she was pregnant, stupid whore…"
Robin blinked at the contempt in Seth's voice as he spoke of his mother. But then, she had been, as Seth had said, an uncivilised demon.
Not Mary Grayson.
"I've been told that she staggered through the civilisation to the Senate House one night," Seth went on, taking another puff of his cigarette. "Heavily pregnant, in labour, and dying." He smiled thinly. "Ironic; she killed others with teeth and claws and brute strength, yet a mere baby – her own child – killed her. The Senate of the time were loathe to bring her in, but being the compassionate saps that they are in Azarath, they treated her, helped her to give birth. She died within minutes of my birth, apparently." He snorted. "I'm sure she would have made a fine mother… Due to my heritage, I'm surprised that they didn't drown me there and then, but of course they aren't like that in Azarath, are they?"
Seth turned his glittering gaze on Robin.
"If they were, your friend Raven would not be here either," he said softly. "Being what she is and all."
Robin frowned.
"The daughter of Trigon?"
"And a whole lot more." Seth tapped his nose and winked. "But that would be telling, wouldn't it?"
Seth went on with his tale before Robin could even open his mouth to demand more information;
"My true name isn't "Seth"," he explained. "Shortly after my birth I was baptised by the monks of Azar and given the name "Sen'th'azar"."
"Sen'th'azar?" Robin repeated incredulously before he could stop himself.
"It's no more amusing than "Dick", now is it?" Seth replied nastily.
Robin's cheeks flushed pink and he was about to fire off that "Dick" was short for Richard, not meant in the other way, but Seth headed him off;
"It's Azarathian for "Prophet of Azar". Throughout my childhood, brought up in a way similar to your friend Raven, I was addressed as Sen'th'azar. I learned magic, necromancy, and studied various forms of other arts, like scrying and summoning, from the monks of Azar. I was skilled at it, and coupled with my own abilities – from both my demon mother and Azarathian father – I became very powerful. I became a member of the Senate Council when I was nineteen. However…" Seth sighed, blowing out a cloud of smoke.
"I grew bored," he went on. "Being a senator wasn't what I had anticipated; all we ever did was hold meetings about nothing. Instead I used my granted access to the Senate House Library and began to read the forbidden books in the vaults. I honed the skills I gained from them, sharpened my own powers, planning… You could say those books tainted me; however, most would have you believe that I was tainted from the very moment I was conceived. Whichever it was, I used my powers to take over Azarath. I killed the entire Senate, bathed all of Azarath in a tide of blood and fire. With the Senate gone, the people of Azarath were terrified of me. However, my reign did not last long…"
Seth paused in his narrative, flicking his almost-done cigarette to the floor, where he crushed it underfoot. He immediately fished out another from one of his pockets and lit it up.
"Not even a month after my ascension as ruler of Azarath," he went on as though nothing had happened, "she came." There was real bitterness and hatred in his voice as he said "she". "That damned Arella. In Azarathian her name means "messenger angel", and how fitting. When she arrived with her army of Warriors of the Sky, as she called them, the Azarathians believed that she had been sent by Azar to save them. Using the necromancy taught to me in my youth by the monks I had called upon an army of the Dead to serve me, but her warriors cut them down effortlessly. But when she and I finally faced off, I thought – perhaps arrogantly so – that I would win; she seemed so much weaker than I, and perhaps she was. But admittedly, she was also cleverer, and she trapped me within a binding spell. Unable to move, and unable to call upon my own powers, I was helpless, and she took them from me, locking them within the Orb of Azarath. However…" Seth smirked slightly around his cigarette, seemingly amused. "My life-force had become dependent on my powers. When she took them from me… she killed me."
Robin blinked, not expecting this revelation.
"You're dead?" He repeated weakly.
Seth nodded slightly.
"Technically, yes," he replied flippantly. "But not literally. It's sort of complicated. My soul had, in effect, merged with the very core of my powers, so when she took them from me, she took my soul too. Realising what she had done – because they're all so bloody compassionate over there – she unlocked the orb and put some back into me; the ones she believed to be unthreatening. Shape-shifting, for example, and basic magic. She didn't know that control over will had also escaped back into me, and I wasn't likely to tell her. However, once she had unlocked the orb after sealing it, it couldn't be "sealed again for all eternity". Instead she bound it by a prophecy, one that she intended to never be fulfilled."
Seth sighed and smiled.
"But she was wrong," he went on happily, "because the fulfilment is almost upon us."
Despite their standing as mortal enemies, Robin and Slade exchanged bewildered looks.
"You said there was no prophecy," Slade pointed out.
"No, I said that the one I told you – the one I have been lying to you about for fifteen years - was a lie," Seth corrected. "For you to understand completely, you must let me go on."
He took another drag on his cigarette, reminiscing.
"She also implanted some curses upon me," he went on bitterly. "Remember that she had already technically destroyed me; even now I have less than a quarter of my soul within me. The rest of it is within the Orb of Azarath; without it, technically I am dead. I have not aged a day since she took my powers, even though I am now considerably older than twenty-four. In addition to subjecting me to this animated-dead state, she cursed my eyes, so that I could not change them when I shape-shifted in the hope that people would recognise me; she also made some kind of change to the space-time continuum so that only one of me can exist throughout all of time. There is no future Seth, and no past Seth. I am the same one you saw two weeks ago in Azarath, Robin… She then banished me from Azarath for five hundred years, sending me to Earth; I was cursed then too, physically unable to transcend the Earthly plane, and certainly unable to enter Azarath. I wandered Earth aimlessly for decade after decade, seeing time change around me, watching babies grow old and die. Being dead, I no longer have to eat or drink or anything, so it wasn't like I had to scratch out a living. I watched the Black Death claim thousands, I watched the Great Fire of London burn almost an entire city to the ground. You'd think I'd have enjoyed it, but no; I was in the very depths of despair. I used to wish that she had killed me that day, instead of forcing me to withstand what seemed like an eternity of nothing… But that was her plan, wasn't it? She wanted me to suffer; that's why she did it. She wanted me to learn – and a dead man can learn nothing."
Despite the bitter edge to his voice, Seth was smiling.
"I stayed in England for a while, then moved on, travelled to Europe, then Asia, explored the wonders of the Orient. I changed my name also, as nobody could seem to pronounce Sen'th'azar; instead I chose "Seth", the name of the Egyptian god of the desert and of storms, partly because it sounds similar to my original name, and partly because Seth was the one who hacked that goody-goody Osiris to pieces and scattered the parts. On my travels I began to accumulate an ever-growing depository of Earth-brewed magic, as well as things that are all too natural. Healing from the Shaolin monks, for instance, and the celtic sorcery of dying-out druids…"
"Shaolin monks?!" Robin wailed, envious despite himself.
Seth shot him a wicked Nicholson eyebrow.
"Ah, yes, I had almost forgotten your passion for martial arts," he said airily. "Yes, I daresay you would have learned much from the monks, Robin, as would have you, Slade." He nodded curtly at the pair of them, then smirked. "But it's not as though either of you will ever live long enough to meet one. Now, where was I? Oh, yes; during my travels, I came here, to the newly-discovered, at the time, United States of America. Still pretty much uncivilised, I suppose it was a bit boring, although the land – cultivated by the Indians – was breath-taking. But man destroyed it the way he does everything, and I tired of being near "civilisation". Instead I began to wander, until I came to a most amazing place, buried deep underground; a place built by Azarathians, deep within the core of the Earth." His emerald eyes glittered knowingly as he saw that they were both giving him their undivided attention. "It is called "The Church of Prophecy", and it is situated… exactly where the old library of your city is."
"Jump City's old public library?" Robin repeated, surprised. "But that place is falling apart!"
"The Church of Prophecy has been there much longer than your city has," Seth replied. "It was built by Azarathian hands hundreds of years before, even then, and it is where any prophecy or revelation of Azarath is locked away; they believe it is safer for things such as these to be away from the dimension itself. Many prophecies have been buried there, most of which have never been fulfilled. The most recent one to be placed there, I believe, is one that was made almost seventeen years ago, about your friend Raven, telling of her destiny." The all-knowing grin crossed his face again. "But that would be telling."
Again Robin opened his mouth, and again Seth headed him off;
"All those years ago, however, there was no trace of any prophecy about Raven. Instead, after much searching, I found what I was looking for – the prophecy connected to the Orb of Azarath. The one connected to my powers." He sighed nostalgically. "I was delighted, of course, and revised it thoroughly, already planning… I lived out the remainder of my five hundred years' banishment in the fast-advancing USA, and then, on the very day that my banishment was up, I went back to Azarath." He sighed again, taking a drag on his cigarette. "Five hundred years changes a lot, let me tell you. Azarath had changed – for good, I suppose – and there was a new Senate. And best of all, after five hundred years, nobody recognised me. How could they, I mean… everybody who had known me was long dead. All but Arella, that is, but she too was long gone from Azarath. I was welcomed into the new Azarathian community and applied to be a monk. After becoming one of Azar's servants, I was free to use the Senate House Library once again, not to mention the Church of Azar's amazing stacks too. Back where I truly belonged – among dark magic – I turned my attention to my prophecy, trying to figure out how to make sure it was fulfilled. The "prophecy" which I spun the pair of you was loosely based on the real prophecy."
"And that would be how?" Slade probed, his voice smooth and dangerous.
"Well…" Seth beamed as he reached inside his robe with his cigarette-less hand and pulled out a small pendant on a silver chain. The pendant itself was an oval of smooth black stone, glittering, with red and purple dashed through it – the same stone that the Orb of Azarath was made from, it appeared.
"That's not a prophecy," Slade spat, as though he thought Seth was thick.
Seth raised his eyebrows at him.
"Oh, I forgot," he responded maliciously. "You're something of an expert on prophecies, aren't you, Slade? You know, after attempting to fulfil a made-up one for fifteen whole years, I'd imagine you'd know all about them, hmm?"
For a fleeting instant Robin really thought that Slade was going to punch Seth; in fact, he had been hoping he would. As much as he hated Slade, right now, he hated Seth more.
And whether they liked it or not, he and Slade were in this together.
"Of course it's a prophecy," Seth went on, smirking. "What, you think people actually write prophecies on pieces of paper? That one I gave you… I made it by pouring coffee on it, crumpling it up, then writing on it in Azarathian with watered-down ink. Azar, you're so stupid… Even now I still can't believe you fell for it…"
Silence.
Robin swallowed, disliking this situation more and more by the second. Somehow, with every word he spoke, Seth's "plan", whatever it was, seemed to become more and more sinister.
And anyone who could shoot Slade down this easily was somebody to be afraid of.
Seth held the pendant up to the light of the candles around the power circle; it glittered in a way that made Robin feel strangely cold. The feeling worsened when Seth began to speak softly and quickly in fluent Azarathian. The pendant seemed to pulse in response; then it exploded with blue light and all of the candles in the tiny room went out at once, and both Robin and Slade instinctively shielded their faces. When nothing happened, both of them looked back at Seth.
In the dark room now, the only light was the bright blue writing that had appeared in mid-air, glowing like a brand new neon sign. There were lines and lines of it, and it was all in a language that neither Robin nor Slade could read;
Azarathian.
It stayed like that for a few seconds; then it dissolved into nothing and all of the candles sprang back to life. Seth flipped the "prophecy" into the air, caught it deftly and pocketed it again.
"One prophecy, gentlemen," he said, bowing mockingly.
"That means nothing," Slade spat. "We couldn't read it."
Seth drew on his cigarette thoughtfully.
"True. Never mind; I'm about to tell you of its content anyway." His brilliant eyes glinted wickedly. "This is, after all, where you two come in."
Again – despite each being the other's arch-nemesis – Robin and Slade exchanged glances.
"Okay, so I'm not the most imaginative of people," Seth said sweepingly. "Most of the "prophecy" that I made up was inspired in some way or another. By the one which you just saw; the one forged by Arella all those centuries ago. The real one requires many things to be done, including the need of a key and a Summoning Ritual, but also several instances must be broken. In basic format, it told of two mortal souls that would be… well, not soul-mates, but similar. Joined, if you will, by the Powers That Be, or whatever you want to call it. Almost… shared; but one "half" would fight for good, while the other "half" would be on the side of darkness. If brought together, these souls – or single soul, if it is to be interpreted that way – would form the basis of power for the Summoning."
Seth smiled sunnily at them.
"No prizes for guessing who those two could be, then…"
Both Robin and Slade were outraged.
"I'm nothing like him!" Robin yelled furiously.
"How dare you try to control my actions!" Slade seethed at the same time.
Seth grinned and blew out a cloud of smoke.
"Settle down, ladies," he said mockingly. "There's more. Far more… It wasn't easy to find both of you, you know, but as a monk of Azar I learned how to do a little technique called "Soul-Searching". Having already established exactly what the match of souls was by deciphering the prophecy, I merely needed to find you both. At that time, neither of you had been born; as it turned out, I had a very, very long wait. But finally, some three hundred-and-something years later, I found a tiny glimmer, one half of what I was looking for…" He turned his attention to Slade, smirking. "The day you were born was joyous one, at least for me. Half of my long wait was over; now my priority – aside from searching for the other half of the soul-match – was looking after you. I became, in effect, your guardian angel, spending most of my time on Earth. I looked after you, watched over you, making sure you came to no harm while I waited for the other half. I had another long wait – though not nearly as long as I had waited for you, Slade – but finally, a little before your seventeenth birthday, on a hot July night, I caught the other glimmer."
Smirking deeply now, Seth turned to Robin.
"It would seem, Richard, that your parents got a bit excited by the 4th July fireworks…" Seth clasped his hands together mockingly, his cigarette poking out between his slim fingers. "Now, isn't that patriotic? Conceived on Independence Day? You must be so proud…"
Robin had absolutely no answer for him.
"Well, there you were, barely nothing within your mother's womb, but you were there," Seth pressed. "However, now that Slade was almost seventeen and training in martial arts – and had stopped attempting to eat things like ant poison – my need to look after him had ceased somewhat."
In spite of himself, Robin turned to Slade quizzically.
"You ate ant poison?" He repeated incredulously.
"I was four years old," Slade replied icily.
"And you should have died," Seth cut in mercilessly. "But, by some "miracle", you didn't. But I'll tell you now, Slade, it wasn't the doctors at the hospital that saved you; it was me." Turning to Robin, Seth nodded in Slade's direction. "He used to be blonde, by the way," he informed the Boy Wonder with a wink.
Again Robin didn't answer him.
Seth sighed.
"Well, now that I didn't have Slade to check up on so much – and with your mother being an aerialist – I devoted most of my time to you," he went on. "You were a tricky one; you gave your poor mother a difficult pregnancy, although I used to help her with the pain…"
At once Robin's full attention was on Seth.
"She knew you?" He asked sharply.
Seth snorted.
"Yeah, right; another thing I learned as a monk of Azar was the gift of projecting a "Soul-Self"; that is, encompassing yourself within your own soul and becoming spirit. Raven can do it too, you know; that black bird thing of hers she appears out of is her Soul-Self. Of course, it was a lot more difficult for me, only possessing a quarter of my soul, but I mastered it in the end. How else do you think I followed Slade around for seventeen years?"
Okay, so it had been a dumb question, but the answer had angered Robin even more.
"You used to… to… touch my mother, and she didn't even know you were there?!" He snapped.
"It didn't work quite like that, Robin," Seth explained. "What I used to do… was put her into a sort of trance…"
TT
…It was a particularly warm day for February, and Mary Grayson was making the most of it, sitting in the chair in the sun that her husband had brought out from the trailer for her. Her book lay open on the grass beside her, but she had grown tired of it, and now simply leaned back, enjoying the sun that was so rare in February. Her long black hair shone as it tumbled around her shoulders, and she wore a simple green maternity dress.
Even so, it was tight over her bump; she was very pregnant.
In less than a month she would be a mother.
She was excited by that prospect, even though her pregnancy had not exactly been planned. She was restless also, but that was probably boredom. Since finding out that she was pregnant all those months ago, neither her husband John nor Pop Haley would let her take part in the acts. She was officially, as they said, "On Maternity Leave".
While she was enjoying not having to get up at 5:00am to practise gruelling routines on the high wire as John did, she was getting bored. With the circus always on the move, there was nowhere she could really go, no clubs she could join to pass the time.
Never mind; next month they would be in Gotham City. She had always wanted to go to Gotham; she had an interest in architecture.
She picked up the other book she had brought out with her; Baby's Names. It was very pawed-through; she looked through it every single day. She didn't know what sex the baby was, but had already picked out a boy's name;
Richard.
It was circled in three different colours. She still couldn't decide on a girl's name; if it was a boy, it would make things a whole lot easier. Besides, she liked "Dick" as a shortening, as in "Dick Tracy".
Maybe it was the heat – although it wasn't really that hot – or simply because she was tired, but Mary was really beginning to feel very drowsy. Her surroundings were beginning to become hazy, and she was barely aware that the book of names had slid from her grasp. She laid her head back on the chair, barely awake…
A cigarette in his mouth, Seth Elliott materialised from shadows that were barely there, a faint smile playing on his handsome face. His long black robe flowing behind him, he crossed to the pregnant woman – radiant, beautiful, carrying safely in her womb the one thing he needed the most – and ran his long thin fingers down the side of her face.
"How are you today, Mary?" He asked her softly, although she could barely hear him. "Little bastard kicking you again?"
Nothing.
Seth crouched down next to her bump, placing a hand on it. No movement as such – the baby was asleep within the warm safeness of his mother. Yes, Seth knew it was a boy, although, in all truth, he knew little of else of the yet-unborn child.
Only that he needed him.
Even so, when he concentrated, he could feel and hear the baby's tiny heartbeat, as quick and light as a butterfly's wings.
"I feel sorry for you," Seth whispered, his mouth centimetres from Mary's swollen abdomen. "She's going to call you "Dick"…"
He rose and walked away without another word, and behind him the sense of frozen animation he had placed the world around him in seemed to melt away.
Mary's eyes fluttered open and she sat up, thinking that she had dozed off for a few minutes.
"Mary!"
She looked up to see her husband half-running towards her, still in his "Flying Graysons" leotard, a towel around his neck and his sports bag slung over one powerful shoulder.
She attempted to get out of the chair but he reached before she managed it and he pushed her back into it. They shared a quick kiss before he pulled back, grinning.
"How are you?"
"Oh, you know," Mary replied, shrugging. "How was practice?"
"A disaster," John Grayson replied cheerfully. His grey eyes fell on the book of baby names and he groaned.
"Are you looking at that again?"
Mary smiled.
"So?"
Grey eyes met deep blue ones; John Grayson's handsome face broke into a smile. He kissed her again, his hands on her bump.
"You know, I hope for the baby's sake that it's not a boy," he mused on pulling back.
Mary frowned.
"Why?"
John grinned.
"Because you want to name it "Dick"…"
TT
Oh yeah… Seth has been lying to them about so much – and I've been lying to you. Me and my OC are in league, baby! Be afraid…
Uh, some things to mention:
First, there is new art up over on DeviantART! There's one of Robin in his new outfit (minus his jacket), one of Seth and four of his disguises, and a chibi one of Terra, Roy and Robin. Check those out via the link to AvengeroftheAbyss (mine and Narroch's joint DA account) on my profile.
Second, kudos to everyone who figured out that Seth was the Seer (et al). There were a lot of you; although I feel that I should especially mention Quinn and His Quill, who has been putting it in every review since Seth first showed up in Black Magic. Well done, Quinny-Boy. Here is a cookie. :)
Third, I really have to apologise for all the major talkiness in this chapter. It's pretty much just Seth spouting a bunch of OC garbage, and for that I am sorry. He's pretty much doing the villain cliché of capturing the hero and then telling him exactly what he is planning and how he did it. I'm sorry. I really am. I know it's lame, but I couldn't find another way around it all, otherwise I wouldn't be answering all your questions. But yeah, it's a bit of a Totally Spies moment…
Fourth, Slade's age. I put him at 17 years older than Robin. I don't know how old he is in the cartoon. I don't know whether they intended to follow the older version from the New Teen Titans comics, or whether they updated him behind that mask and made him younger. But, well, when I wrote this, two years ago, 17 years older seemed good enough to me. That makes him, in ratio to Robin in the present day, 33. In this future world, it makes him 48 (because Nightwing should be 31 – only he's dead, and his 15 year younger self is here instead…).
Fifth – Robin conceived on Independence Day. I don't know when he was conceived. I don't think it was ever even thought of by DC Comics. However, I'm still going by the assumption that he was born in March, and if you count back nine months from March, you get to July. So… 4th July. Why not:D
So, yeah…
You wanna yell at me for everything I have been screwing you around about, you know what to do…
RobinRocks xXx