Chapter 26
The week passed in a blur, filled with activity and growth as Tom continued to integrate into the Team. His days were packed with team practices, where he worked on improving coordination with the others. Each session pushed them closer to operating as a cohesive unit, and Tom found himself growing more comfortable with their unique rhythms and abilities. Nightwing's leadership kept them sharp, and Tom's confidence in his place within the Team steadily grew.
During this time, Tom wrestled with the weight of the information he held and what he should share with Batman. After a week of contemplation, he made a decision: he would tell Batman about Blue Beetle's scarab, its true alien origin, and the potential for it to become a threat. He would also share how the Tribe of the Sun might be key to severing its control and saving Jaime if the scarab's darker tendencies ever took hold. The thought of giving Batman this information filled him with unease—especially given his lingering fear of being targeted again—but he resolved that it was worth the risk if it could prevent a catastrophe.
Tom also dedicated himself to honing his magic. Kaelith, as always, was his steady guide through the process. During one particularly intense training session, she paused to address him, her tone carrying a note of pride.
"You've reached a milestone," she said warmly. "You have a firm grasp of the basics now. Your control is solid, your understanding is growing, and you're using your magic in powerful, effective ways."
Tom straightened, the praise catching him off guard. "So, what's next?" he asked, wiping the sweat from his brow.
Kaelith smirked faintly. "We've been keeping things in your element—basic, focused, powerful, but limited in scope. Now, you can start working on building blocks to develop your own spells. That's where things get really interesting."
Tom couldn't help but grin, his excitement tempered with curiosity. "Guess I've got a lot of work ahead."
"Always," Kaelith teased.
One evening, after a particularly draining day, Tom found himself in the Grotto, as he often did when he needed a quiet place to think. He wasn't surprised when Raven arrived, her presence as calm and steady as ever. This time, however, she didn't just pass by or sit quietly as she usually did—she approached him with purpose.
"You should learn to meditate," she said simply, her tone leaving no room for argument. "The monks of Azarath taught me how to quiet my mind and center myself. It could help you, especially after what happened."
Though initially hesitant, Tom agreed, and their evening meditations quickly became routine. They would sit in the serene stillness of the Grotto, Raven guiding him through techniques to focus his breathing and ease his mind. Kaelith occasionally teased him about the arrangement, her voice playful in his thoughts.
"You know, for someone who insists there's nothing going on, you two sure spend a lot of time together," she quipped.
Tom rolled his eyes, though a faint smile tugged at his lips. "It's just meditation, Kaelith. Don't make it weird."
"If you say so," she replied, her tone dripping with amusement.
Midweek, Impulse invited Tom to join him and Blue Beetle for a trip out into the city. Tom, uncertain about the rules, checked with Batman first, wondering if he even had the option.
Batman's response was characteristically blunt, yet practical. "You're an adult, Tom. You don't need my permission to go out. As long as you remain vigilant and exercise caution, you're free to go." He paused, his sharp gaze locking onto Tom's for a moment. "And since you might not be aware—your bank account has already been set up. The League ensures all members, including those on the Team, receive compensation for their work. You've been getting paid since you joined."
Tom blinked, caught off guard. "Wait, I'm getting paid? Like... with actual money?"
Batman nodded, his tone remaining matter-of-fact. "Yes. It's important that all members have access to financial resources, whether for essentials, personal needs, or emergencies. You'll find the details of your account in the encrypted League database. If you need assistance accessing it, Nightwing can walk you through it."
Processing this unexpected piece of information, Tom found himself nodding slowly. "Thanks. I didn't realize..."
Batman cut him off with a slight tilt of his head. "It's standard procedure. You'll find it useful." He straightened slightly, his tone shifting back to its usual commanding edge. "Now, if you're going out, stay alert. The League trusts you to handle yourself responsibly. Don't prove me wrong."
Armed with this newfound knowledge, Tom decided to join Impulse and Blue Beetle on their outing. The trip turned out to be a strange but refreshing experience. Walking through the bustling city streets with Impulse zipping ahead, Jaime trying to rein him in, and Tom trailing slightly behind felt oddly normal.
They talked about small things: favorite foods, movies, and jokes about their missions. Tom found himself laughing more than he had in months, the simplicity of the outing lifting a weight he hadn't realized he was carrying. It wasn't just the company; it was the sense of belonging, however fleeting, that made the experience so memorable.
He even bought a phone during the trip, feeling a small sense of accomplishment as he navigated the mundane task with Impulse's enthusiastic help. Jaime teased him about needing to join their group chat, which Tom begrudgingly agreed to.
By the week's end, Tom felt a sense of rhythm settling into his new life. His training was progressing, his connection with the Team deepening, and his personal growth—both magical and emotional—was undeniable. He was learning to open up, to trust, and to find his place among people who genuinely wanted him there.
Still, as he prepared to approach Batman with what he knew about Blue Beetle's scarab, his heart beat a little faster, a mix of fear and resolve bubbling within him. Kaelith's presence remained his anchor, her quiet encouragement reminding him that he was never really alone.
Tom sat on the worn but comfortable couch in the Mount Justice living room. His surroundings were quiet, the kind of stillness that only came late at night when the rest of the Team had retreated to their rooms.
In his hands was the transmitter Batman had given him—a small, sleek device. Its unassuming size belied the weight it carried in Tom's mind. He held it loosely, his fingers brushing over the smooth surface as he stared at the data file he had written out earlier that evening. It was concise and direct, detailing Blue Beetle's scarab, its alien origins, and the Tribe of the Sun's potential role in severing its control.
Tom's foot tapped repeatedly against the floor, the repetitive motion betraying his inner turmoil. He had been going back and forth on this decision all day, weighing the risk of giving the League such critical knowledge against the potential disasters it could avert. His scars burned faintly, the phantom echoes of his time with the Light reminding him of what he'd already endured for revealing too much.
"This could help Jaime. It could stop the scarab from taking control... but what if—what if this puts me in their crosshairs again? What if they find out?"
His chest tightened at the thought, and he clenched his jaw, forcing himself to steady his breathing. He glanced down at the transmitter again, his thumb hovering over the activation button. Every instinct screamed at him to delay, to think it over one more time, to wait until the fear ebbed away.
But he couldn't.
With a deep breath, Tom tapped the button, the device emitting a soft chime as the file was sent. The glow of the transmitter faded slightly, signaling the successful transfer. The tension in his chest released in a massive sigh, his shoulders slumping as he leaned back against the couch.
Kaelith's presence flickered in his mind, steady and warm. Her silent reassurance washed over him like a mental hug, grounding him in the moment.
Tom closed his eyes, his breathing evening out as he let her quiet strength bolster him. For now, the decision was made, and there was no turning back. All he could do was trust that he had done the right thing and that the League would use the information wisely
Tom stood from the couch, slipping the transmitter into his pocket with a deliberate motion. The quiet of the living room wasn't enough to settle his mind, the weight of his decision lingering heavily on him. He needed to do something—anything—to refocus himself and let the tension dissipate.
The thought came naturally: meditation. Raven had been guiding him through the methods taught to her in Azarath, and while he wasn't anywhere near her level, the practice had helped. Deciding quickly, Tom made his way toward the Grotto, the quiet halls of Mount Justice lit only by the faint glow of automated lighting.
As he walked, his thoughts drifted to his time in this world so far. It had been... a lot. Some of the most incredible, awe-inspiring moments of his life had happened here—standing beside heroes he once idolized, learning magic with Kaelith, becoming part of a team.
But there had also been the worst moments. The Light. The scars, both seen and unseen. The fear that still haunted him in the quietest hours of the night.
Even so, Tom couldn't deny the undeniable pull this world had on him. As much as he tried to suppress his inner fanboy, it sometimes slipped through. He was living in a world that held so much more depth than the one he'd left behind. It wasn't perfect—far from it—but it felt vibrant, alive, and worth being a part of.
Tom reached the Grotto, the soft light from its illuminated pools casting an ethereal glow across the cavernous space. The quiet here was different, calming in a way that settled into his bones. He found a familiar spot near the water, lowering himself to sit cross-legged on the cool stone.
As he adjusted his posture, his gaze drifted to the gentle ripples in the water, and his thoughts turned to Raven. The Grotto felt connected to her somehow, a place where he often saw her meditating or simply relaxing. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he thought about her—how her guidance had been patient, direct, and surprisingly kind.
"I think I've been doing a good job suppressing my thoughts about her," he mused to himself, though the faint warmth in his chest betrayed him.
Kaelith's presence flickered in his mind, her teasing amusement brushing against his thoughts without a single word.
Tom rolled his eyes but couldn't help chuckling softly. "Not a word, Kaelith."
The truth was, Raven had slowly grown on him more and more. She wasn't the comic book character he remembered; she was something else entirely. Getting to know her—the real her—was like peeling back layers of quiet strength, hidden vulnerabilities, and sharp wit.
Shaking off the thought, Tom straightened his back and closed his eyes, focusing on his breathing as Raven had taught him. He inhaled deeply, the cool air of the Grotto filling his lungs, and exhaled slowly, letting the tension in his shoulders melt away.
One breath at a time, he worked to clear his thoughts, letting the rhythmic sound of the water ground him. The world outside the Grotto—the fears, the doubts, the weight of his choices—faded to a faint hum.
Hours slipped by unnoticed as Tom delved deep into his meditation. The rhythmic sound of the Grotto's water and the steady cadence of his breathing anchored him, allowing his mind to quiet in a way it rarely did. The world outside faded completely, and for the first time in what felt like ages, there was peace.
It wasn't until Kaelith's voice flickered through his mind, warm and steady, that he stirred from his trance. "Tom, it's morning."
Tom's eyes blinked open slowly, the soft glow of the Grotto's pools greeting him. He glanced around, surprised to find the room illuminated by the faint light of dawn streaming in through the hidden skylights above. "Morning?" he mumbled aloud, his voice groggy.
"Thanks, Kaelith," he thought, stretching as he rose to his feet. "I had no idea that much time passed."
"You were deep in it," she replied with a flicker of amusement. "But hey, progress."
Tom chuckled softly, running a hand through his hair. "Guess I'm getting the hang of it, then."
He made his way out of the Grotto, his steps light as he headed toward the kitchen. His phone buzzed faintly in his pocket, and he pulled it out, swiping to check the Team's shared schedule. It was a rest day, something he hadn't fully appreciated until now.
The thought of taking it easy for once brought a faint smile to his face. He entered the kitchen and set about making coffee, the rich aroma quickly filling the space. As the machine brewed, Tom grabbed a mug and leaned against the counter, letting the familiar routine ground him.
Once the coffee was ready, he poured himself a cup and carried it into the living room. Setting the mug down on the table, he grabbed the remote and flopped onto the couch. Scrolling through options on the screen, he finally settled on something lighthearted and hit play.
With the warm coffee in his hands and the sound of laughter from the show filling the room, Tom allowed himself to relax.
Tom sank deeper into the couch, the soft glow of the screen casting faint shadows across the living room. The show he'd chosen was light and amusing, just the distraction he needed to unwind. He took a slow sip of his coffee, the warmth spreading through him, and let out a contented sigh.
As the episode played on, his mind began to wander, his fingers idly tapping against the side of his mug. Without thinking, he reached out with his magic, summoning a small orb of shadow that hovered just above his palm. The ball of darkness flickered faintly, its surface rippling like liquid, as though testing its own boundaries.
Tom tossed it gently into the air, watching it arc upward before catching it in his other hand. The motion was fluid, almost instinctive, as he let the orb float back and forth. A faint smirk tugged at his lips as he began to play with its form, stretching it out like clay before molding it into a smooth disk.
He spun the disk between his fingers, then reshaped it into a bird, its wings flapping lazily as it hovered above him. The shadowy creation flitted around the room, its form shifting seamlessly from one shape to the next—a serpent winding through the air, a miniature dragon puffing a tiny wisp of smoke, a floating geometric cube spinning slowly in place.
The magic felt light and easy, a far cry from the tense, deliberate efforts of his training sessions. Here, in the quiet of the living room, it was just him and his imagination.
As he watched the shadows shift and dance, a sense of quiet wonder filled him. This was something straight out of the pages of a book—a power he could only dream of having before. Now, it was his reality. The idea still felt surreal sometimes, and he found himself smiling faintly as he shaped the magic again, letting it morph into an intricate, swirling pattern that hovered in the air like a living work of art.
Kaelith's presence flickered faintly in his mind, warm and amused. "That's new. Practicing, or just having fun?"
Tom grinned, not bothering to respond aloud. Instead, he shaped the shadow into a miniature version of Kaelith in her demon form, complete with her luminous eyes and tendrils of darkness. The tiny figure crossed its arms, mimicking her usual posture, before dissolving back into a sphere with a flick of his wrist.
"Just having fun," he thought back, his grin widening.
He let the shadow morph into a flock of tiny birds, watching them swirl around the room before merging back into a single orb. Tossing it one last time, he let the sphere vanish with a flick of his fingers, the magic dissipating like smoke.
Taking another sip of his coffee, Tom leaned back with a contented sigh, his eyes drifting back to the screen. For now, he let himself enjoy the beauty of what he could do, his heart lighter as he marveled at the magic that had once only lived in his imagination.
The quiet of the living room was interrupted by the soft sound of footsteps, so light that Tom didn't notice them at first. It wasn't until Raven stepped into view that he startled slightly, nearly spilling his coffee. She stood at the entrance, her usual stoic demeanor intact, though her damp hair hung loose around her shoulders, a clear sign she'd just come from a shower. She was dressed casually in a dark, oversized sweater and leggings, her feet bare as she crossed the room.
"Didn't mean to sneak up on you," she said dryly, her tone calm but carrying the faintest hint of amusement.
Tom blinked, realizing he'd been staring. He opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat as his brain scrambled for an explanation. "Uh—sorry," he said quickly, his cheeks warming. "I just... got lost in thought."
Raven raised an eyebrow, her sharp gaze assessing him. "Lost in thought?" she repeated, her tone neutral but lightly teasing.
Tom cleared his throat, gripping his mug tightly as if it could ground him. "Yeah. Happens sometimes," he said, forcing a small smile. "How are you doing?" he asked quickly, hoping to steer the conversation away from his lapse.
Raven stepped closer, her sharp eyes flicking to the faint shimmer of magic that still lingered in the air. She didn't press him further about his moment of distraction but settled into a chair nearby, crossing her legs gracefully. "I'm fine," she replied simply, smoothing a hand over her damp hair. "Ready for the rest day we've got today. It's... needed."
Tom nodded, his grip on his mug relaxing slightly as the conversation took a more normal tone. "Yeah, I get that," he said. "Sometimes it's nice to just sit and relax."
Raven tilted her head slightly, her expression softening as she studied him. "Is that what you were doing before I came in? Relaxing?"
Tom chuckled softly, his nerves easing as he shrugged. "Something like that. Coffee and mindless TV seem to help."
A faint smile tugged at Raven's lips—small but genuine. "I might have to borrow that idea," she said quietly, leaning back in her chair, her posture relaxing.
Tom hesitated for a moment before speaking. "If you want, you can join me. I mean... watching TV, that is." He gestured toward the screen, his voice casual but a little rushed. "You can even pick the show if you want."
Raven's smile grew ever so slightly as she glanced toward the screen. "Alright," she said, her tone calm. "But I'm going to make some tea first. I'll be back."
She rose gracefully, her movements smooth and deliberate as she turned and headed for the kitchen. Tom's gaze unintentionally drifted downward, locking onto the sway of her hips and the curve of her figure as she walked away. His mind registered what he was doing a second too late.
Seriously, Tom? he thought, his cheeks flushing as he quickly tore his eyes away. She's an empath. EMPATH. You idiot.
He rubbed a hand over his face, groaning internally as he tried to refocus. Zen thoughts. Peace. Stillness. Anything but that.
Grabbing his coffee, he took a deep sip, hoping the warmth might help ground him. When he opened his eyes again, he focused firmly on the TV, silently cursing his lapse in self-control. "You're a genius sometimes, Tom," he muttered sarcastically to himself, determined to act normal when Raven returned.
Raven returned a few minutes later, a mug of tea in hand, the faint aroma of chamomile wafting through the room. She settled into the chair near Tom, her movements as smooth and deliberate as always. She curled her legs under her slightly and took a sip of her tea before glancing at the TV.
"So," she began, her tone calm but with a faint edge of curiosity, "what are we watching?"
Tom shrugged, holding up the remote. "Pick whatever you want. I wasn't really paying attention to this anyway."
Raven arched an eyebrow, her lips quirking into a faint smile. "Sure." She reached out, taking the remote from him and scrolling through the options. After a moment, she selected a classic sci-fi series, the kind with practical effects and dramatic music.
Tom glanced at the screen, then at her. "Good choice. Never pegged you for a sci-fi fan."
Raven took another sip of her tea, her gaze fixed on the screen. "It's not just sci-fi. I like stories that explore things deeper than surface-level action. Ones that make you think."
Tom nodded, filing that piece of information away. A moment of comfortable silence passed before he turned to her, his curiosity getting the better of him. "Do you ever use your magic... for fun?"
Raven's head tilted slightly, her dark eyes glancing at him with a flicker of curiosity. "For fun?" she repeated, as though the concept were foreign to her.
"Yeah," Tom said, setting his coffee down on the table. "Like, small things. Not saving the day or fighting bad guys—just... I don't know, messing around."
Raven's expression softened, and she seemed to consider the question for a moment. "Not often," she admitted. "Magic isn't something I've ever associated with fun. It's always been a tool, a responsibility."
Tom nodded slowly, then lifted his hand, summoning a small sphere of shadow magic. The dark orb floated above his palm, rippling like liquid as it hovered in place. "I get that," he said, his eyes fixed on the orb. "But sometimes, it's nice to just... play a little."
He tossed the orb gently into the air, letting it morph into a bird mid-flight. The shadowy creature flapped its wings lazily, circling the room before landing back in his palm. With a flick of his fingers, it shifted into a small dragon, its tiny head puffing out a wisp of smoky energy.
Raven watched, her gaze following the movements of the shadowy shapes. "You make it look so easy," she said quietly, her tone carrying a note of interest.
Tom grinned, reshaping the magic into a swirling ribbon that danced around his fingers. "It's kind of relaxing, actually. Keeps my hands busy." He glanced at her, his grin softening. "You should try it sometime. Could be fun to just... see what happens."
Raven raised an eyebrow but didn't dismiss the idea outright. Instead, she sipped her tea, her expression thoughtful as she returned her gaze to the TV. "Maybe," she said finally, her voice even but carrying the faintest hint of amusement.
Tom let the shadowy ribbon dissipate with a flick of his wrist and leaned back, a small smile lingering on his face.
They settled into a comfortable silence, the faint glow of the TV casting soft light across the room as the show played on. The sci-fi drama's swelling music and philosophical dialogue filled the space, and for a while, neither spoke, simply enjoying the rare quiet moment.
Tom glanced over at Raven, her relaxed posture a stark contrast to the usual guarded demeanor she carried. Something about the moment felt right, and he found his curiosity bubbling up, though he hesitated to speak. Finally, after debating with himself for a minute, he decided to ask.
"Hey," Tom began, his voice careful. "I don't mean to pry, and you don't have to answer if it's too personal, but... what made you join the Team? Why leave Azarath?"
Raven's expression shifted immediately, her usually composed face flickering with something more complex—conflict, pain, and perhaps a touch of sadness. She stared at the screen for a moment, as if considering how much to share.
"It's complicated," she said at last, her voice quieter than before. She took a slow sip of her tea, her hands gripping the mug slightly tighter. "But to sum it up... I had to leave."
Tom stayed silent, sensing there was more, but he didn't push.
Raven continued, her gaze fixed on the TV, though her mind was clearly elsewhere. "The Order got in contact with Dr. Fate. They... arranged an introduction to the League. After that, the League decided it would be best if I joined the Team. So, here I am."
Her tone was steady, but there was an undercurrent of finality to her words, as if she had deliberately left much unsaid.
Tom nodded slowly, respecting the boundaries she'd set. "That makes sense," he said softly, his voice free of judgment or probing.
Raven glanced at him briefly, her expression softening just slightly. "Thanks for not pushing," she said quietly before turning her attention back to the screen.
Tom gave her a faint smile, leaning back into the couch. "I can't throw stones when I do the same thing," he said quietly, his tone light but honest.
Raven glanced at him, her sharp eyes softening slightly as she studied him. For a moment, it seemed like she might say something, but instead, she simply nodded, a faint flicker of understanding passing between them.
As the show continued to play, Tom's thoughts drifted, unable to ignore the weight of what Raven had shared—or rather, what she hadn't shared. Her words had been deliberate, guarded, as though carefully constructed to reveal just enough but not too much.
"I had to leave."
Those words echoed in his mind, stirring his curiosity. It was a simple explanation, but Tom knew better than to take it at face value. There was more to it—there had to be.
He leaned back against the couch, his fingers brushing idly against the fabric as his mind began to piece things together. Using what he knew of Raven from the comics and shows he'd consumed in his old world, there were only so many reasons why she would leave Azarath.
Trigon.
The name dropped into his thoughts like a heavy stone into still water, sending ripples through his mind. It made sense. In some versions of Raven's story, Azarath was destroyed by Trigon's influence, forcing her to flee and seek help from Earth's heroes. If that were the case here, it would explain the tone in her voice—the weight of loss and the refusal to elaborate.
But the thought sent a chill down his spine. If Trigon was involved, it wasn't just her past that was troubling—it was her future, and potentially theirs. Trigon was no minor threat; he was a universe-ending force of destruction, a being that even the strongest heroes struggled to face.
Tom let out a slow breath, his fingers gripping the edge of the couch as he tried to steady himself. The idea of Trigon, or anything remotely tied to him, was overwhelming—too much for him to even begin to process. He already knew there were entities in this universe far beyond anything he could ever hope to face, and Trigon was undoubtedly one of them.
There's nothing I can do, he thought, the admission settling over him like a cold weight. Trying to figure this out or worrying about it won't help anyone—not her, not me, not the Team.
His scars prickled faintly, a reminder of the dangers that already existed, and for a moment, the thought threatened to spiral. But then, he forced himself to push it aside, just as he had with so many other overwhelming realizations since arriving in this world. It was how he coped—ignoring the incomprehensible, the horrifyingly large, the things that could break him if he let them linger in his mind too long.
Ignore it, he decided firmly, as he always did. Just another horrific mind-fuck thing in this world. Move on.
Tom settled into the couch, trying to let the simplicity of the moment wash over him. The sound of the show playing softly in the background helped, and for a moment, he felt like he could breathe. But as his gaze drifted toward Raven, he noticed her glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, a subtle but clear look of curiosity.
Caught off guard, Tom blinked and turned back to the TV, his thoughts racing. His heart beat a little faster, a knot of nervous energy settling in his chest. He couldn't shake the worry that Raven might be picking up on his thoughts.
Distract. Focus on something else, he thought, forcing himself to push past the nerves.
A small smile tugged at his lips as he reached out with his magic, summoning a tiny shadow dragon in the palm of his hand. The miniature creature stretched its wings, its form flickering with dark, smoky tendrils as it came to life. With a flick of his wrist, Tom sent the dragon toward Raven.
Tom's shadow dragon hovered in the air, its tiny, smoky form puffing out another harmless burst of flames. Raven, gave Tom a flat look that betrayed the faintest glimmer of amusement.
"Really?" she said again, her tone dry but lighter this time.
Tom shrugged, his grin widening. "What? You've got magic too. Fight back."
Raven raised an eyebrow, her gaze narrowing slightly as she set her tea down on the table beside her. She inhaled quietly, her lips moving just enough for Tom to catch the whisper of her focus phrase: "Azarath Metrion Zinthos."
The shadows in the room stirred faintly, responding to her call. With a subtle motion of her hand, a sleek, inky raven materialized from the darkness. Its feathers shimmered like liquid midnight, and its glowing eyes fixed on Tom's dragon with a predatory glint.
Tom watched, his grin faltering as the raven took flight, diving toward his dragon with an elegant swoop. "Alright, I wasn't expecting that," he muttered, his tone laced with mock apprehension.
The two constructs collided midair, their forms swirling and melding as they clashed. Tom focused, sending his dragon spiraling around to dodge the raven's strikes, while Raven moved her fingers with precision, guiding her creation with the same cool confidence she brought to everything.
The shadowy duel became an intricate dance, the constructs darting and weaving through the air in a display that was both mesmerizing and oddly playful. Tom couldn't help but laugh as his dragon narrowly avoided a divebomb from the raven, twisting itself into an elongated serpent to escape.
"You're pretty good at this," Tom said, his tone equal parts impressed and teasing.
Raven's lips curved into a faint smirk, her focus unwavering. "Better than you," she replied evenly, guiding her raven into a tight arc that finally caught the dragon, dissipating it into a harmless wisp of smoke.
Tom threw up his hands in mock defeat. "Alright, fine. You win."
Before Raven could respond, the sound of footsteps drew their attention to the doorway. M'gann entered the room, dressed in casual civilian clothing and carrying a cup of tea. She paused, taking in the last remnants of the shadow constructs as they faded into the air.
"Well, well," M'gann said, her voice light and teasing. "What's going on here?"
Tom glanced at Raven, his grin faltering slightly as he tried to act nonchalant. "Just watching a show," he said quickly. "And... you know, messing around with magic."
M'gann tilted her head, her smile taking on a knowing edge as she looked between them. "Right," she said, drawing the word out playfully. "Just watching a show."
Raven sighed, her expression flattening as she picked up her tea and took a deliberate sip. "M'gann," she said warningly, though there was no real heat in her tone.
M'gann laughed softly, her demeanor as bright as ever. "Relax, I'm just teasing. Don't let me interrupt your fun." She settled into a chair across the room, her amused gaze lingering on them for a moment before turning her attention to her tea.
Tom glanced at Raven again, his cheeks warming slightly, but he quickly turned his focus back to the TV. The lingering flicker of magic in the room, however, made it clear that the moment had been more entertaining than he'd intended—and Raven's faint smirk suggested she wasn't letting him forget it anytime soon.
AN: Another chapter! We are getting close to the end of book 1 of Tom and Kaelith's journey and I want to thank you all for sticking through and reading my story thus far! I will be wrapping it up by next month most likely.