The lecture hall at Fawcett University was abuzz with anticipation as the students settled into their seats, their notebooks, and pens at the ready. Professor Jason Alexander Head, the university's newest sensation, had taken the academic world by storm with his youthful charm, award-winning novels, and a reputation for turning even the most mundane writing classes into captivating journeys of creativity.
"He is finally back!" Sasha, a sophomore year student of the English and Literature program, exclaimed excitedly to her best friend.
She had been over the moon when she had discovered that they would get Jason Head as their professor. She had even gone as far as to turn down her acceptance letter to Metropolis University to come to her local university in Fawcett City. It was a decision that many had frowned upon, who does turn down a prestigious university like MU for a university that while well-respected does not match the same kind of prestige of an Ivy League and Gotham University as MU does? But Sasha had not regretted it once. She had taken the class in freshmen year and had loved it with all her heart. Professor Head had even taken her under his wing and made her his TA.
"We get it, you missed him," her best friend Camila laughed. "Now go and do your job as TA. I need to take a seat and currently it is closer to impossible. It looks like half the university is in this classroom." Camila commented impressed, as Sasha preened proudly. "Stop acting like a peacock and go! God!"
"Going!" Sasha threw her head back and laughed.
Just then, Jason, often simply called Professor Head by his students, strode confidently to the front of the classroom, his charismatic presence filling the room. His tailored attire and chiseled features only added to his already magnetic appeal. The diverse group of students, ranging in age and majors, hung on to his every word.
"Good morning, everyone," Jason began with a warm smile, giving Sasha a wink as he put his things down. "I'm delighted to see so many eager faces here today. I hope you're ready to embark on an exciting journey into the world of creative writing."
He paused, allowing the students to exchange excited glances and nods. The buzz of anticipation grew.
"Now, before we dive into the art of storytelling," Jason continued, "I want to start with a quote that I believe encapsulates the essence of our journey together this semester." He projected the quote onto the screen at the front of the room, and the words of Nathaniel Hawthorne illuminated the space: "Easy reading is damn hard writing."
Jason met the eyes of his students, his expression earnest. "This quote, my friends, is the foundation of our exploration. Writing is not just about pouring words onto a page; it's about crafting a narrative that engages and resonates with the reader."
He began pacing in front of the whiteboard, a sense of passion and purpose evident in his every step. "We'll delve into the intricate process of tackling complicated matters in a novel, whether they be philosophical, psychological, or any other subject. But here's the thing: none of what you write will matter if the reader can't understand it."
Jason paused, allowing his words to sink in. He could see the wheels turning in the minds of his students.
"You see," he continued, "as writers, we're often drawn to complex themes and ideas. We want to challenge our readers, make them think deeply about the world we've created. And that's fantastic. But we must remember that accessibility is key."
He turned to the whiteboard and began jotting down key points as he spoke. "We'll explore techniques to tackle these intricate subjects while still ensuring that our writing remains engaging and relatable. We'll dissect the nuances of language, structure, and character development to strike that perfect balance."
Jason's energy was infectious, and the students found themselves captivated not just by his looks but by his passion for the craft. They couldn't wait to begin this literary journey with him.
"In this class," he concluded, "we'll not only hone our writing skills but also learn to create stories that resonate with our readers. After all, the true magic of writing lies in the connection we establish with those who pick up our work."
As the applause filled the lecture hall, Sasha looked on proudly at her favorite professor and whispered under her breath. "Best decision ever!"
Damian and Billy returned home with huge smiles on their faces. Damian had paint splashes all over his clothes and face, while Billy had bruises and dirt marks, but they were satisfied. Their art and skateboarding lessons had gone fantastically.
"Nice to have you in good spirits, because we are having our magic lesson right now!" Jason exclaimed happily. "Now that you guys got the control you need over your magic, you all will be getting your wands today!"
"We get our wands!" Billy exclaimed excitedly. "So cool! Wait, do you have a wand? Or is the All-Sword a wand for you? Working kind of like a scepter?"
"Ok, first things first. Scepters are for wizards, those who do not possess magic running through their veins and use an outside source to cast spells, like demons or nature spirits. We are warlocks, like witches, we have magic in our blood. Dami and I because of the Lazarus Pit water in our veins and you Billy because of the blessing of SHAZAM." Jason explained, falling into his professor persona. "So, scepters what they do is allow wizards and sorcerers to channel the outside magic. Scepters can be used by anyone; they are not faithful to any wizard or sorcerer. Now wands, they are unique to every warlock and witch."
Jason smirked, noticing how the excitement was building up within his little brothers, not even Damian could hide it. "Once you master your magical abilities you will be able to do wandless magic, but until then you will need a wand to aid you in channeling your magical abilities. Billy in your Champion of Magic form you do not needed it because you have the Gods guiding you unconsciously, but as a mortal child you will need to learn how to do so from zero. Even after mastering your magic, you will still need your wand for the harder spells. Magic knows I do!"
Jason chuckled as Damian and Billy giggled. Those childish giggles were like music to Jason's ears. He will do whatever it takes to protect them. "As for the All-Sword, it is neither a wand nor a scepter. It is a magical weapon. Like Billy's Thunder of Zeus and your al Ghul sword Dami," Jason pointed out to the sword Damian always kept in his magical dimensional pocket. "The runes in there allow you to cut through anything, even magic, neutralizing any kind of supernatural ability of your opponent. It is a sweet weapon; one I would love to see if it even works with Kryptonians." Jason hummed thoughtfully.
"You won't be using it against any Kryptonian!" Damian protested with a pouting glare. "I will not have my best friend sad!"
"Ok, ok, I won't!" Jason raised his hands in mock defeat, chuckling at how adorable his little brother looked.
Oh, how happy Jason was that both Damian and Billy were starting to act their real ages. Something that in the League of Assassins and the streets they would have been incapable of doing.
"What is your wand? Can you show it to us?" Billy cut in, eyes sparkling with barely contain excitement, as he was practically vibrating on his place.
Jason smiled warmly at them and took out his wand, which he always made sure to have at hand. It was a beautiful sleek wand dyed in crimson red, with carvings along the wand that gave out the feeling of the wand being made from feathers. The wand looked strong yet light at the same time. It was a beauty that had both Damian and Billy entranced. They wanted a wand like that, a wand that fit them perfectly the same way this wand did with Jason.
"This wand is made out of Hawthorn Wood and has a Phoenix Feather Core," Jason informed his little brothers. "Hawthorn Wood Wands are special because of their conflicted nature. The wandmaker Gregorovitch wrote that hawthorn "makes a strange, contradictory wand, as full of paradoxes as the tree that gave it birth, whose leaves and blossoms heal, and yet whose cut branches smell of death." Damian and Billy listened, entranced by their older brother's words. "Meanwhile, Garrick Ollivander, another famed wandmaker, also noted: "Hawthorn wands may be particularly suited to healing magic, but they are also adept at curses, and it has been generally observed that the hawthorn wand seems most at home with a conflicted nature, or with a witch or wizard passing through a period of turmoil".
Jason sighed, looking at his wand with both fondness and sadness. "When I discovered my magic, well, more than discovered, I was thrown towards the All Caste by umi. It does not matter now, what I am trying to say is that I was feeling conflicted. I still do! I had recently come back from life and that had left me feeling lost, I wanted revenge, but I also wanted to regain my life… it was a complicated moment in my life. My wand was there for me, every step of the way." Jason's gaze was stern as he looked at his siblings. "Wands are not weapons or tools that you can easily discard. They are part of you, an extension of your magic. You shall treat them with the respect they deserve. Understood?"
"Understood!" Damian and Billy nodded.
"Good! Now let's get going! The wandmaker I contacted is already waiting for us!"
Damian and Billy found themselves in a charming little shop in London, hidden from non-magical eyes. This was Celine Ollivander's wand shop, passed down through generations.
The shop's interior was filled with shelves of wooden boxes, each containing a different type of wood. The air smelled of aged wood and magic. The boys exchanged excited glances, curious about this unique wandmaker.
Celine Ollivander, a kind witch with a warm smile, approached them. Her eyes sparkled with anticipation as she looked at the young warlocks and winked at Jason. He had been an interesting customer, and she had found the perfect wand for him.
"Welcome to Ollivander's, dears," she greeted them. "I've taken a slightly different approach to wandmaking compared to my ancestors. Instead of crafting wands and selling them, I believe that wand materials should choose its owner. Your magic knows best, you see."
Celine gestured to the wooden boxes in front of them, each containing a different type of wood, from mahogany to willow. "Close your eyes," she instructed gently. "Extend your hands over the boxes and let your magic guide you. The right wood will make itself known."
The boys closed their eyes and concentrated, feeling the subtle energy in the air. As they passed their hands over the boxes, they sensed a connection to the magic within. Damian's hand was drawn to a box containing yew wood. When his fingers brushed the polished surface, he felt a sense of rightness, as if the wood had chosen him. Billy, too, felt a pull towards a box containing vine wood. It felt alive and vibrant in his grasp, and he smiled, realizing the wood had chosen him.
"Excellent choices, my dears." Celine nodded in approval; her eyes filled with understanding. "Yew wands," she began, explaining the wandlore. "They are known to bestow upon their possessors the power of life and death, a characteristic that could be attributed to all wands, but yew wands carry a particular reputation for their dark and formidable nature, especially in the realms of dueling and curses."
"It's important to dispel a common misconception, though. Contrary to popular belief, those who wield yew wands are not inherently drawn to the Dark Arts more than any other witch or wizard. In fact, yew wands often choose individuals who are fiercely protective of others. These ancient wands have been found in the hands of heroes as frequently as in the hands of villains. There are even legends of yew wands sprouting into guardian trees when buried with their owners."
With a thoughtful tone, she added, "What is undeniable, based on generations of Ollivander experience, is that yew wands are never content with mediocre or timid owners. They seek out those with strong and unyielding spirits, individuals unafraid to confront the challenges and mysteries of the magical world."
Now that is wand that fits the al Ghul heir perfectly. Someone strong willed and protective like Damian could never be pleased with a mediocre wand. It is no wonder that the yew wood would choose his magic, after generations of his family line being embodied by the powers of the Lazarus Pits and their control over life and death.
Turning her attention to the vine wood, she shared, "Vine wands are a less common choice, often drawn to personalities with concealed depths. They favor witches and wizards who aspire to a higher purpose, individuals with a vision that transcends the ordinary, often surprising those who believe they know them best."
Her eyes sparkled as she described the unique trait of vine wands, saying, "Vine wands are known for their remarkable sensitivity in selecting their perfect match. It's not uncommon for them to emit magical effects when they sense their ideal owner nearby. Embracing the druidic tradition, vine wands consider any wood with a woody stem as a part of their legacy, making them a truly distinctive and rare choice."
Of course, a mystical wood like that would choose the Champion of Magic. What greater higher purpose can any warlock aim for than being blessed by the Gods of SHAZAM?
"Now, let's move on to the cores." Celine presented them with a selection of cores, each one radiating its own unique energy. Damian's magic resonated most strongly with a dragon heartstring core, while Billy's was drawn to a unicorn hair core.
As Celine Ollivander carefully crafted their wands, using the yew and vine wood they had chosen, and pairing them with their respective cores, she explained the significance of their selections. The dragon heartstring represented power, courage, and ambition; qualities Damian possessed in abundance. The unicorn hair core symbolized purity, kindness, and a strong connection to the mystical, all of which resonated with Billy's nature.
As Damian and Billy listened to the enchanting explanation, they couldn't help but feel a deeper connection to their chosen wands. When the wands were finally complete, Damian and Billy held them in their hands with a sense of wonder and reverence. Damain's wand was dyed emerald green and had carvings that made it look like dragon scales, while Billy's wand was pure white and shaped as a Unicorn horn. They were enrapt by them.
"Now, now, I know that it is very exciting to have your wands, but we are here for a lesson," Jason chuckled as he observed his little brothers still enchanted by their new wands.
They were in the magical training room of their Fawcett City home, ready for a lesson on a powerful charm: the Patronus Charm.
With a tone of both seriousness and enthusiasm, Jason began, "Today, we're going to delve into one of the most famous and potent defensive charms in the wizarding world, the Patronus Charm, or Expecto Patronum. This charm is immensely complicated and incredibly challenging, but it's also an essential skill for any witch or wizard."
He continued, "The Patronus Charm allows us to channel our most positive and powerful emotions into a protective force known as a Patronus. This Patronus takes the form of an animal, one that's deeply connected to our inner selves and our emotions. It serves as a guardian, warding off dark creatures like Dementors and Lethifolds. It also works against demonic entities and beings of the afterlife."
Jason paused for a moment, allowing the significance of the charm to sink in. "Now, there are two types of Patronuses. The first is corporeal, which means it has a specific shape and form, like a real animal. The second is incorporeal, which has no particular shape and can't ward off Dementors the way corporeal Patronuses can."
He looked at Damian and Billy, gauging their level of understanding. "The reason I want to teach you this charm, even though it's incredibly challenging, is because of the kind of threats we might face in our line of work. Dealing with beings of the afterlife and demonic entities the way I do can be dangerous, and having a Patronus can provide an extra layer of protection. But remember, the form your Patronus takes is a reflection of your inner self and emotions."
Jason paused, he closed his eyes, allowing his mind to become a canvas upon which his happiest memories painted themselves with vivid clarity. Each memory was like a treasured gem, a moment in time where happiness and warmth had enveloped him completely.
In his mind's eye, he saw himself as a young boy, standing on a wooden stool next to Alfred in the Wayne Manor kitchen. Flour dusted the air as they baked together, filling the room with the scent of freshly baked cookies. It was a memory of comfort, love, and the simple joy of shared moments with the man who had become his surrogate grandfather.
The next memory was that of a different kind of adoption, one that had irrevocably changed his life. It was the day he was formally adopted by Talia al Ghul, who had seen potential in him and had given him a family when he had none. It was a moment of acceptance, belonging, and the promise of a new beginning.
He recalled the first time Damian, his fiercely independent little brother, had called him akhi. The Arabic term for brother had resonated deeply with Jason, as it signified not just a familial connection but also a bond of trust and respect. It was a memory of brotherhood, understanding, and the start of a unique sibling relationship.
The Patronus shifted, its form beginning to take shape. It brought to mind intimate moments with Essence, a woman who had ignited a passion within him that went beyond physical desire. It was a memory of love, connection, and the complexities of human emotions.
Another memory was of the day he had earned his PhD. It was a moment of accomplishment, pride, and the realization of his own potential.
Finally, he recalled the day he had been named the guardian of Billy, a responsibility he had undertaken with unwavering determination. It was a memory of family, duty, and the profound sense of protectiveness he felt toward his brother.
As Jason continued to focus on these cherished memories, a transformation occurred in the room. A silvery stag materialized, its form ethereal and radiant. It stood there, its graceful figure exuding an air of regality and strength.
The stag's movements were like a dance, its hooves barely making a sound as it hopped and moved around the room. Damian and Billy watched in awe and admiration; their eyes locked onto the shimmering figure.
The Patronus emanated a sense of protection and tranquility that enveloped the room like a soothing embrace. It was as if all the positive emotions Jason had poured into it had manifested in this beautiful guardian.
Billy tilted his head as if listening to an unseen voice. His eyes widened, and he gasped softly. Turning to Damian, he shared the wisdom Solomon, the ancient King's spirit residing within him, had imparted.
"Solomon says that having a Stag as your Patronus is more than just a symbol," Billy explained, his voice low as not to be heard by Jason, who was patting his Stag Patronus. The two younger brothers know how shy his older brother can get when it comes to this kind of thing. "Traditionally, it's seen as the 'King of the Forest,' the protector of all other animals. It's like how Jason helps others by teaching them everything and isn't afraid to throw himself into danger to save people. Not to mention that its antlers fall off and regrow annually, it is considered a symbol of rebirth and resurrection. Quite appropriate – as Jason came back to life."
As the Patronus Stag continued to move gracefully, a profound sense of unity and understanding filled the room. Each movement of the silvery guardian felt like a reassuring pat on the back, a silent promise that they were never truly alone in their journey.
In the days that followed, Damian and Billy were determined to master the Patronus Charm. They practiced diligently, spending hours in the magical training room with Jason as their patient guide. The charm was indeed a formidable one, and its difficulty only fueled their determination to succeed.
Their initial attempts resulted in faint, wisp-like forms, far from the corporeal Patronus they aspired to conjure. Despite their disappointment, Jason was there to encourage them every step of the way.
"You're doing great," he assured them, his voice filled with pride. "It's not easy to achieve even an incorporeal Patronus on your first try. Remember, this charm is a reflection of your most positive emotions, so focus on those moments that bring you the most joy and happiness."
Damian and Billy nodded, their determination unwavering. They knew they had a long way to go, but they were willing to put in the effort.
Weeks turned into a month of relentless practice, each day spent refining their focus and deepening their connection to their happiest memories. They drew strength from the love and support of their family and the knowledge that they were working toward a greater purpose.
Finally, the day arrived when they felt ready to attempt the Patronus Charm once more. Damian closed his eyes, his mind flooded with memories of his travels with Jason through exotic locales, the warmth of Billy becoming his brother, and the unique smile that Jon, his dearest friend, reserved solely for him.
As he cast the charm, a radiant, fox shaped Patronus emerged from his wand. It bounded gracefully around the room, its fiery fur shimmering with an ethereal glow. Damian's eyes gleamed with pride and accomplishment as he watched his Patronus take form.
Billy, not to be outdone, focused on the memories that had shaped his life. He thought of his biological parents, the love and warmth they had showered upon him. He recalled the exhilarating feeling of his first flight through the sky, his powers awakening. And most importantly, he concentrated on the moment he had been adopted by the Heads, finding his true family.
With a determined incantation, Billy's Patronus burst into existence. It was a St. Bernard dog, its eyes filled with a gentle and protective warmth. The Patronus exuded an aura of loyalty and unwavering support as it joined Damian's fox in a graceful dance around the room.
Jason beamed with pride as he watched his younger brothers' accomplishments. "Congratulations," he said, clapping them both on the back. "You've achieved something truly remarkable. Your Patronuses are a reflection of your inner strength and the love you hold for your family."
Damian and Billy exchanged triumphant smiles, their hard work and dedication paying off in the most magical way possible.
Jason watched with immense pride as Billy and Damian played with their Patronuses, the room bathed in the ethereal glow of their magical guardians. He decided to explain the significance of their Patronuses, wanting them to fully understand the symbolism behind their forms.
"Billy, your Patronus, the St Bernard, is quite fitting," Jason began. "Apart from his impressive size, this breed is renowned for his search and rescue abilities, often saving lives in treacherous mountain conditions. Having a St Bernard as your Patronus reflects your bravery and your big-hearted nature. You're willing to go to great lengths to protect and help others, and you possess a profound sense of loyalty."
Billy beamed at the description, feeling a deep connection to his Patronus. He had always strived to be brave and compassionate, and now his magical guardian embodied those qualities.
Jason then turned to Damian, whose Patronus was a graceful fox. "Damian, your choice of a fox Patronus is quite intriguing. Foxes are known for their cunning, resourcefulness, and fierce intelligence. They're highly adaptable creatures, able to thrive in diverse habitats around the world. Your Patronus reflects your resilience and your ability to navigate through challenges with clever solutions."
Damian nodded thoughtfully, taking in the symbolism of his Patronus. He had faced numerous trials and obstacles in his young life, and his Patronus seemed to mirror his determination to overcome them.
Jason smiled at both of his brothers, proud of the individuals they were becoming. "Your Patronuses are a reflection of your inner strengths and the unique qualities that make you who you are. They'll serve as your protectors and companions in times of need, reminding you of the incredible people you've grown to be."
Billy and Damian exchanged grateful glances, their Patronuses by their sides, ready to accompany them on their magical journey ahead.
"Ok! Enough training for now. Go and take a shower, you need to get ready. Ari is coming in a couple of hours to have dinner with us." Jason dismissed them.
As Arianne joined Jason, Damian, and Billy for dinner. The Arabic dinner spread before them was a delightful array of flavors and aromas. Seated around the table, the warm and inviting scents of the food filled the air, enticing their appetites. Jason raised his glass of Arak, a traditional alcoholic drink often enjoyed in Middle Eastern cultures, to offer a toast. "To new beginnings and the magic of storytelling," he said, his eyes filled with pride and appreciation.
Damian, who had grown up experiencing the flavors of Arabic cuisine, couldn't help but smile as he dug into his favorite dishes. "This reminds me of home," he remarked, savoring each bite.
Billy, though newer to these flavors, had quickly grown accustomed to the delicious spices and combinations after his adoption. He nodded enthusiastically. "It's really good. I can see why Dami loves it so much."
Over the course of the dinner, they discussed the exciting prospects of Jason's books being adapted into a movie and a TV miniseries. Arianne, with her law acumen, had played a significant role in securing these deals, and the quiet joy on her face was evident as they talked about the future.
As they shared stories, laughter, and the delicious Arabic dishes, it was a moment of unity and celebration for their unique and loving family. "The young princes seem happy," Arianne commented once the business talk was over, and the kids had been sent to bed. "I noticed their new acquisitions. Worthy wands for the al Ghul line."
"That they are," Jason smiled proudly. "I took them over to the Ollivander shop in London. A quick apparition and they had their wands before the day was over."
Arianne hummed with a thoughtful expression. "Ollivander… one of the few remaining ancient English families of the old times of magic."
"Yeah," Jason scoffed, smile slipping at the reminder. "All of the Sacred 28 gone. So, many families survived the witch hunts over the last centuries. Thankfully the Ollivanders did. I do not know what the magical community would have done without them and their knowledge of wandlore."
"What surprises me, is how easy old and powerful magical families got caught and killed by humans," Arianne frowned. "One would believe that with their knowledge and grimoires, it would have been a fairer battle."
"It was," Jason chuckled humorlessly. "Do you think they were simply humans, the ones that hunted us down? No, they were Hunters."
"Hunters?" Arianne repeated, confused, and slightly scared of the dark cloud that hung over her prince's head. It reminded her of the early times, where the Pit Madness reigned within her prince, and at any coming moment her prince could turn against them in rage.
"I've learned a lot during my time in the All Caste," Jason shared, picking up his glass of Arak and taking a sip from it. "Not only magic, but also history and culture long lost to the ages and wars. As you well know, the non-maj community have written down in its folklore and history that witches and warlocks are humans who made pacts with demons. Or we are straight down spawns of demons. However, they could not be more wrong about it."
Jason sighed and turned to look at his friend and, once upon a time, second-in-command, with so much sadness in his eyes that it broke Arianne's heart. He took his time to collect himself before continuing. "We are the humans blessed by nature and Earth, giving with certain abilities to advance humanity further. Or to serve a purpose to balance nature and magic on Earth. That is still debated and depends on what side you stand for." Jason laughed, it was short and dry, but it was true, and it made Arianne smile in return. "The old pureblood families, especially most of the Sacred 28 back in the UK, believe in the first stance. No surprise there. On the other side, All Caste believes in their purpose of serving magic and Earth, to protect those who cannot. Which is why they stand on the stance that we were given our gift to serve and bring balance."
"What do you believe in my prince?" Arianne asked.
Because at the end of the day that is all it matters to Arianne. And the young lawyer knows that Jason's stance will be all it matters to her Lady Head of the Shadows. That in the upcoming future, it will be the stance the newly named League of Shadows will take. Because as infamous as the al Ghul line is withing the martial arts community, their fame as necromancers in the magical community goes back to before even the Achaemenian Empire.
"I believe the same as the All Caste does… but I also believe that our magic was given to us with the purpose of advancing humanity." Jason answered slowly. It was the first time he had shared his thoughts on the matter with anyone, and he was thankful it was with Arianne, who had rapidly become one of his best friends. At least once he had allowed her in and he had healed from his Pits Madness. "I do not believe that from the blood supremacy many purebloods had and still have. No, my stance comes from the fact that I am sure that the plan was for the gifts to be spread among all humans. That Earth and nature were trying to prepare us against the more genetical powerful beings in the galaxy."
"What happened then? What changed the plans?" Arianne asked, frowning her brows.
Jason scoffed, chugged the rest of his Arak in one go. "What else? Jealousy and envy." His smirk was sardonic and filled with malice. "The rest of the humans did not like it. Why were some of them gifted these powers by nature? Why not us? Some others were afraid. Humans are very good at that. Being afraid of the unknown…" Jason's gaze was lost in thought, as he looked down into his empty glass. "Things happened; wars were fought over it. Some majs believed that if we allowed them magical tools that could allow them to channel magic it would make them stop… it only made the wars bloodier."
Arianne stood up to get more Arak and serve them another glass. "So, that's how sorcery was born."
"Now sorcery was not the issue," Jason leaned back on his chair and spread out his arms theatrically. "No, the issue came with the demons."
"Demons?" Arianne turned to him shocked.
"Well, they did not like how fast our magic and technology was advancing." Jason replied shrugging. "While they could see a way to taint technology's purpose of advancing society and turn it to their evil desires of destruction, they could not do the same with magic."
Arianne thought about it for a second, before realization dawned on her. "Magic is connected to nature. Nature is not evil or good, it's neutral. It can't be tainted by demons."
"No, it cannot," Jason smirked. "But humanity on the other side… well, the ones who made pacts with demons were the non-maj precious Hunters. They were given abilities and protection against magic, which helped them hunt down witches and warlocks. Even sorcerers were hunted down, and sorcery was outlawed." Jason chugged his drink for a second time. He needed liquid courage for this part of history. "It reached a point where the remaining great magical families got together to summon the demons who had given the Hunters their abilities, they then, after more battles and loss, sacrificed said demons in a ritual that slaughtered with them every single being that shared their blood."
"Wait that would mean…"
"Yes, every Hunter family, to the last baby, dead." Jason's face was expressionless as he stared at Arianne. Even to an ex-assassin that story, that much bloodshed stunned her. "I need another drink." He stood up and went to serve himself more Arak. "We won, but at what cost? So many bloodlines and special gifts that came with them were lost. Metamorphmagus? Lost. Parselmouth? The ability to talk with serpents and practice Parselmagic? Lost. Which is quite a pity, as Parselmagic was a level of miraculous healing magic and capable of creating the strongest wards known to Earth." Jason whistled wistfully. "Our community has grown since being almost extinct, but it is no longer the same. We do not have cities hidden in every country, filled with schools and ministries of magic. We do not have the numbers for that anymore."
"If demons costed the magical community so much…" Arianne started before stopping.
What she was planning on saying was out of line. Jason might be her friend, but he was also her prince. And there are lines you do not cross. Things you do not question.
"Why Ra's joined ranks with the Lazarus Demon?" Jason finished for her with a dry laugh. "It's ok. It baffled me as well. Until I understood that he and the Hunters shared something, they were both envious and jealous. Ra's was a squib. He had no magic. The heir to one of the Most Ancient and Most Revered Al Ghul Family a squib? Now that is divine retribution right there." Jason threw his back and barked a laugh. He sounded hysterical and angry at the same time, not to mention he was almost drunk from all the Arak. A bad combination. "Oh well, that does not matter anymore. Damian has the blood and has brought the magic back. It is different, leaning more to Black Magic than Grey Magic because of the demonic influence. But Black does not mean evil. It is just part of the spectrum of magic, and they are all needed to balance magic." Jason straightened up and turned to his friend. "Now, tell me what you are truly here for?"
"What do you mean? I came to discuss the contracts with you and pay you a visit, my prince," Arianne answered startled.
"Come on, Ari. We both know that the contracts could have been discussed by phone and that you are not that sentimental. I get it, we are best friends, but we are not the visiting kind," Jason raised an eyebrow. "Raised by the World's Best Detective here, Ari. Even if for only a couple of years, I did learn a few things. So, I will repeat my question. What are you are truly here for?"
"Ah," Arianne sighed. "My Lady Head of the Shadows has found another secret Lazarus Pits that Lord Ra's al Ghul had left behind. It is the second and only other one in the USA. As you've already have dealt with the one in Gotham City, the same night you put down that monster, she would like for you to go to San Francisco to deal with this one as well."
"So, umi had a mission for me," Jason hummed. "You are staying right? I will not leave Dami and Billy unprotected."
"The whole squad will be landing soon," Arianne bowed. "We will protect the princes with our lives."
Jason smiled at her oath. "I have no doubt you will. Well, it seems like I am going to San Francisco."
Billy couldn't contain his excitement about meeting Jason's old squad from Nanda Parbat. He was curious about the adventures and stories they had shared with his older brother. This was a chance to glimpse into Jason's past, and Billy was determined to soak it all in.
Damian, though less outwardly excited than Billy, was genuinely happy to see Jason's old friends. These were people who had been through significant experiences with Jason, and it felt good to see them all together again under the same roof.
The room buzzed with lively conversations and laughter as the group shared their stories. It quickly became clear that Jason had been a central figure in their squad. His leadership had left a strong impression on each member.
One of them talked about a time when Jason's quick thinking and bravery had saved them from an ambush in the mountains of Nanda Parbat. Another spoke of the trust they had in Jason's decisions, even when the odds were against them. It was clear that Jason's leadership had inspired deep respect and loyalty from his comrades.
They shared stories that showed Jason's ability to adapt to any situation, his knack for solving complex problems, and his unwavering commitment to his team. These qualities, they agreed, set him apart as a leader and contributed to their success on many missions.
Jason had been a unique leader in the league, different from anyone else they had known under Ra's al Ghul. They were grateful to him for teaching them what it truly meant to be a team, a found family united for a purpose they could be proud of.
Amidst the warm reunion, Arianne took the chance to share a story with Billy and Damian. Her eyes lit up with nostalgia as she began her tale. "In the heart of the Himalayas," Arianne began, "we were sent to find a hidden monastery rumored to have powerful ancient relics."
"We had to cross dangerous mountain passes where avalanches could happen at any moment," Arianne continued. "At one point, we got caught in a blizzard, lost and freezing. But Jason guided us through that whiteout, his determination keeping us on track."
Damian's eyes widened with fascination, and Billy listened intently as Arianne described their struggles. They could almost feel the cold and exhaustion of the climbers.
"But the hardest part was inside the monastery," Arianne went on. "There were traps and clever defenders guarding the relics in a chamber deep below. Jason's tactical skills really stood out as he came up with a plan to outsmart them."
The room seemed to buzz with the tension of the mission, and Billy couldn't help but picture the intense moments as the squad faced those challenges.
"Once we reached the chamber," Arianne continued, "we found ourselves in a tense standoff. But with Jason's guidance, we secured the relics and got out of the monastery."
Billy and Damian exchanged looks of awe, realizing their older brother was a true hero. However, what they didn't know, and what Arianne didn't mention, was how Jason had lost control during that mission. The Pit Madness took over, leading him to kill every defender in the monastery. By the end, his black assassin garb was stained red with blood.
All Arianne could think about that evening was Jason. She prayed for him and for the young princes. She hoped this mission wouldn't trigger another episode. She feared losing him to the pits again and the possibility that her Lady Head of the Shadows might have to take another family member's life because of it.
In the heart of San Francisco, beneath the busy city streets, Jason, dressed as the Red Ghoul, made his way to the underground chamber hiding the Lazarus Pit. As he went deeper, the aura of the Lazarus Pit grew stronger, seeping through the stone walls around him. He finally reached the chamber, a large space lit by an eerie light. In the center lay the Lazarus Pit, a swirling pool of emerald liquid with an unnatural vitality. Its surface was calm, but underneath lay the power to heal, restore, and corrupt.
Jason stood at the edge, gripping the All-Sword tightly. Its blade shimmered with a glow capable of destroying the most formidable mystical forces. The Red Ghoul raised the All-Sword high, muscles tense with determination. His eyes, hidden behind the crimson mask, locked onto the Lazarus Pit, daring it to defy him. The pit seemed to respond, its emerald depths churning in defiance.
With a powerful thrust, Jason brought the All-Sword down into the Lazarus Pit, unleashing a brilliant explosion of emerald light. The chamber shook as the pit convulsed, its ancient magic fighting against its destruction. A wave of energy surged outward, engulfing the Red Ghoul. He felt the pit's power clawing at him, trying to pull him in and corrupt him with promises of eternal life. But Jason's will was strong, and he resisted.
As the All-Sword pierced the Lazarus Pit, the emerald liquid began to disintegrate. Its power waned, and its presence faded, leaving behind only a whisper of its former self. Jason watched as the remnants of the Lazarus Pit evaporated into nothingness. He had accomplished his mission.
Breathing heavily, Jason withdrew the All-Sword, now cleansed of the pit's influence. The chamber grew still, its secrets buried once more. Jason turned and began his journey back to the surface, leaving the hidden Lazarus Pit behind. The moon cast a silvery glow over San Francisco as the Red Ghoul emerged from the depths. As Jason moved through the dimly lit alleyways and rooftops, he suddenly felt a strong sense of unease. It was like the atmosphere around him had shifted, warning him of an approaching threat. He quickly melted into the shadows, his senses on high alert.
Then, the Teen Titans appeared out of the darkness. Tim Drake, leading the group as Robin, was flanked by Conner Kent, aka Superboy, and Cassie Sandsmark, Wonder Girl, who floated beside them with her lasso ready. Bart Allen, also known as Impulse, stood at the front, brimming with energy. Jaime Reyes, the Blue Beetle, was prepared for action in his alien suit.
Jason observed them calmly, his mask hiding his emotions. The Titans had clearly been expecting him and were ready. They spread out, surrounding him with a precise strategy that left little room for escape.
The standoff was underway, and the tension in the air was palpable.
As the Titans closed in, Red Ghoul moved with a skill that seemed almost otherworldly. He dodged Superboy's charge with a smooth sidestep, ducked under Wonder Girl's lasso, and avoided Blue Beetle's laser blasts. Impulse came at him with incredible speed, but Red Ghoul anticipated the move, calmly sidestepping the speedster.
The fight was a mix of martial arts and magic, with Red Ghoul using his opponents' energy against them. His movements were precise and deliberate, making it hard for the Titans to land a hit.
As the battle continued, Robin started to realize something. Red Ghoul wasn't trying to defeat them outright. Despite their best efforts, they couldn't get a solid hit in. It seemed like Red Ghoul was always one step ahead, directing their actions with unsettling accuracy.
Understanding dawned on Robin, and he signaled his team to stop. The Teen Titans pulled back, looking frustrated and puzzled. Red Ghoul remained steady, his mask hiding any sign of emotion.
"Stop!" Robin ordered, his voice cutting through the tension. The Titans paused, their faces showing a mix of relief and confusion. Robin approached carefully, keeping his eyes on Red Ghoul. "Who are you?" he asked, clearly uncertain.
Red Ghoul offered no answer, only a stoic silence that hung heavily in the night. Until he finally drawled, sounding quite creepy by the mechanical modulator. "Haven't your parents taught you some manners? You should learn to ask questions first, then jump into a fight. Especially, against someone you are clearly unprepared to fight."
"What are you doing in our city?" Robin demanded to know.
"I am just here for some League of Shadows business," Jason replied drily, chuckling when he noticed the sharp gaze of Robin. Out of all the Robins Batman had, this one was the most like the Dark Knight… which is not a compliment at all.
"I thought you told Arsenal you are not part of the League of Assassins anymore? That you belonged to some sect called the All Caste now." Superboy interrogated, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring.
Red Ghoul stared back, clearly unimpressed. "You guys really need to step up, otherwise you will be dead soon. You are clearly unprepared; I do not know how the Justice League even allowed you out to the streets with the way you behave." Red Ghoul shook his head in disappointment, ignoring the way Superboy and Wonder Girl bristled. After watching Dick's Titans battle, he had had bigger expectation towards the Teen Titans. But they are clearly just children playing dress-up. "The League of Assassins is no more. Umi slayed her tyrant of a father and has changed the league into a better direction. The League of Shadows requested my aid to eradicate the Lazarus Pits. Which is what I am in San Francisco for. I may no longer be part of the league, but as I had told Arsenal, I am still an al Ghul and Talia al Ghul's son."
"There was a Lazarus Pit here?!" Robin exclaimed, sounding shocked and fearful. "And you can eradicate them? How is that possible?!"
"The All-Sword was made to deal with pure evil," Red Ghoul answered. He had no reason not to, but with bats it's better to give them a bone to run themselves ragged or they won't stop badgering you. "The Lazarus Pits are pure demonic magic, pure evil." He turned towards Impulse, who had seemed to be the least violent towards him and asked. "How is Arsenal doing? Did he find his daughter?"
"Yeah…" Impulse smiled warmly at Red Ghoul, while trying to calm himself down. This was the Red Ghoul! One of his favorite heroes in history! Though, the Red Ghoul has always said he was no hero, but just a normal warlock doing his job. Still, Impulse worshiped the ground he walked in, Red Ghoul had been Earth's last line of defense against The Reach after all. "He is doing more than fine, and he has reunited with his daughter."
"I am glad," Red Ghoul smiled, though the Teen Titans could not tell because of his mask.
Robin fidgeted on his feet, feeling bad for some reason. Red Ghoul did not act or seem like a villain. Someone who they had to be on guard against or mistrust. He might not be allied with the Justice League, and he might have some questionable paternity, but he was not working against them either. All he does is deal with cursed and evil magical objects… the Red Ghoul was more in a grey area, like John Constantine from what the bats have deduced.
Not that it stopped Batman from obsessing over him. He was the previously unknown son of his ex-wife after all.
"Why did you pull back your punches?" Wonder Girl demanded to know. She was an Amazonian and being looked down by a man was driving her mad. "We could have taken you out!"
"No, you could have not," Red Ghoul shut her down. "I pulled back my punches because I don't hurt kids. Especially, child soldiers."
That being said, Red Ghoul apparated in an instant, leaving the Teen Titans stunned and speechless.