TRIGGER WARNING: Suicidal thoughts towards the end.
"This isn't a good idea," Jhon said from his place behind Damyan.
"So, you've stated over a thousand times," Damyan said as he navigated Aelfred the camel over the sandy dunes. "You didn't have to come."
"Please," Jhon scoffed, "you'd be dead a thousand times over if it weren't for me."
"You've saved my life maybe three times in the past year."
"Doesn't change the fact that you haven't thought this through," Jhon argued.
"Look, if I fail, Themyscira can still go ahead with its plan to attack."
"An attack you're supposed to be leading."
"Jason has everything under control," Damyan replied.
"Well, now I know you're not thinking straight," Jhon breathed out exasperatedly, "you just complimented Jason. Willingly."
"Are you going to help? Or do you plan to continue complaining? If it's the latter, I have no problem kicking you off this camel."
"Fine, I'll shut up; but this is a bad idea."
Raven dragged her fingers across the map as she breathed heavily through the pain. Eventually, her eyes fluttered open. "If you attack the night of the second full moon, your army will annihilate the army of Trogaar." Raven looked up at Slaede from her place on the floor, as she finished her reading. She prayed to every god that it was her last one for the day. It was only two hours after noon, and she was already exhausted. Her body and mind were both worn, as she had been using her gifts too many times lately. Slaede gave her a grateful smile before turning to the captain of his army. "We march in three days' time," Slaede commanded, "give the order." The captain gave a respectful bow before turning on his heel, leaving the throne room.
"Impressive," Graent, who'd been present during the reading as well as Mara, droned. "I'd be more impressed if she could find Themyscira."
"I'd be more impressed if you could spell Themyscira," Raven spat.
"Watch your tongue, slave," Graent sneered.
"Graent!" Slaede glared at his son. He then turned to Raven, softening his stare as he did so. "Any news on Themyscira, Raven?" Slaede asked kindly.
Raven sighed. "Slaede, whenever I try to find Themyscira, all I see is darkness. I don't know where Themyscira is. If it's still around, it's somehow being hidden from me. I am doing my best."
"Really?" Mara smirked. "Are you sure you aren't doing it on purpose? After all, you did argue to spare my idiot cousin's life."
"As I said before," Raven felt her defenses and powers rising. Her skin began to burn wherever jewelry touched it. "The gods commanded that Damyan die by no hands but there's."
"Sure."
"Burying him alive - my visions left me for a week because Slaede- "
"Are you blaming our loss on my father?" Graent stalked towards her.
Raven balked. "Of course not, Prince Graent. I'm only a messenger. I was merely stating- "
"We lost 1000 men because of your 'visions'."
"Maybe it was the gods will- "
"Don't dare speak as if you know the will of gods, slave!" Graent slapped Raven so hard, an earring flew off as her head whipped to the side. Raven immediately felt the bruise that began to form.
"Enough!" Slaede jumped from his throne before angrily striding to his son. "Get out," he commanded Graent.
"Father, I- "
"Before I run you through with my sword," Slaede threatened. Graent immediately backed away. "And take your al Ghul whore with you. She's overstayed her welcome." Mara frowned at Slaede but left with no argument. "Leave us," Slaede commanded the rest of the guards.
Raven rubbed her sore cheek as the guards filed out of the throne room. Looking down at the map in front of her, tears blurred her vision, as copper smell flooded her senses. I can't keep doing this, she thought forlornly, putting a hand to her bloody cheek. Graent's strength had definitely improved with age. He slapped her so hard, her cheek had torn open. Swallowing a sob, the appearance of a cloth an inch from her face startled her. Looking up, she realized Slaede had torn off a piece of his tunic and was holding it out to her. "Your cheek," was all he said.
Raven hesitated. Iolite thread was spun into Slaede's clothes. Putting the "peace offering" on her cheek would do more harm than good. He had to know that. "Thank you," Raven took it from Slaede's outstretched hands before gently touching it to her cheek. The shock of pain that flooded her head nearly caused her to faint, but she remained steadfast in her refusal to feel weakness.
Once all of the blood was gone, Slaede held his hand out to her once more. "Come," he gently commanded. Raven dropped the bloody cloth and placed her hand in Slaede's rough, scratchy one. Helping her stand to her feet, Slaede led her to one of the massive windows, nothing more than a giant, gothic cutout in the stone wall of the castle. From their spot, the entirety of Star City could be seen; from this spot, Raven could fall to her death, her body landing on the cold, stone steps almost 100 meters below. "Look at it," Slaede said, caressing Raven's soft hands, making her stomach churn. Raven looked past the city, deep into the desert. Freedom. "As far as the eye can see, past the sea," Slaede continued. "One day, it will be ours."
Raven's heart raced as her breakfast threatened to exit her stomach. "Ours?" she repeated.
"Of course," Slaede turned his cold, blue eyes to her. "I will need a queen by my side."
"But, Slaede," Raven frowned, "the day I lay with you, will be the day my powers cease to aid me. An Azarathian sorceress' only love can be the gods," Raven uttered the lie passed on from generation to generation.
"My dear, sorceress," Slaede placed a heavy hand on Raven's injured cheek, his rings burning the open wound, "the day I speak of is the day when your visions will no longer be necessary." Raven mustered a tentative smile. "But you must find Themyscira for this day to come to pass." Raven gave a firm nod. "You are dismissed. Go have your rest. I will not need you for the rest of the day."
Raven bowed respectfully before gracefully exiting the throne room. As soon as she was in the hall, away from spying eyes, she inhaled a lungful of air before continuing to her room. The closer she got to her room, the less iolite burned in the halls. Of course, the only respite she could have from that damned jewel came when she immersed her entire body in the water. Summoning a maid, she ordered a bath to be drawn. Walking to her room window while she waited, she watched the teeming street below. A year ago, she attempted to save Damyan's life because she thought he'd be her salvation. However, Slaede had ordered his men to dig a hole in the middle of a field of scorpions. Raven never had a vision of Damyan again.
Turning back to her bathing room, she watched as the water mages filled her tub with warm water. Raven decided right then and there. She was down. I'm sorry, sisters, she thought about her family in the dungeons below. Raven became Slaede's prisoner at age 5. She had become his sorceress at age 10. The last decade had been a daily struggle, a daily fight. Silent tears began to burn trails down her cheeks as the giant stone tub continued to fill with water. This would be her final resting place. "I'm sorry," she whispered to her sisters. Raven refused to become Slaede's queen, warm his bed, and bare his offspring. No, there was nothing left to do. Today was the day she died.