Demons (Damirae)

Chapter Thirty-Eight

"The manner in which we were taught to draw large protective runes of this kind is...", he searched for right phrasing, " not the same."

"How so?", Constantine said, folding up a shirtsleeve with the rod tucked in to his side and held in place by his elbow.

"Just watch."

And with Damian's vague answer, the three of them stepped forwards, actions startlingly done as a unit. Holding the staff as if it were a line of symmetry splitting them in half, Damian, Raven and Adyn lunged forwards.

***

Raven's feet met the floor for the barest hint of a moment, before she used the rod as leverage, striking out with a jumping-side kick as one hand remained grasping the rod. Ignoring the hair obscuring her vision, Raven allowed her muscles to move as they should, trusting that the process was fully imprinted in to her mind.

Pulling the staff over her head, Raven landed in a crouch, grasping it with her right arm. In jarring synchronisation, herself and the other two, shot the top of the rod to the side, dragging the chalk-like ending along the floor to form a thick, white curve.

Continuing the sequence, the demoness shut her eyes, counting to one...two...three before she let the wooden stick twirl through the air like a baton, flipping backwards to catch it in the centre. With all the force she could muster, Raven drove the pale end in to the ground, as if she were trying to drive it down to the Earth's core- but it didn't break.

Instead, it left a white mark on the floor, one which she expanded, spinning the staff across the floor accordingly, adding to the pattern.

After many kicks and turns of the rod, the basic first rune was completed: a cone bordered by two lines reaching out like vines, almost appearing to move if one looked too closely.

Not sparing a moment to see if Damian and Adyn were at the same stage -she knew they were- Raven begun the second rune of the protective ward: which, when activated, would stand as an invulnerable force field against preternatural beings with the intent of harming the building or its occupants, or any weaponry with preternatural links.

Gliding the wood against the floor, Raven made the first soft stroke, exhaling with the same lightness.

***

Superman's P.O.V:

They were mesmerising to watch, all three of them moving in unison, twirling across the courtyard, drawing lines as they went. Some thick, some light, each stroke seemed to hold so much weight, so much gravity.

Besides me, Bruce, Diana, Vic, Hal and Barry lingered, staring out of the conference room's wall-size window, observing the three of them dance across the concrete. All of us truly impressed by the display- even Diana appeared equal parts pleased and intrigued by their...sequence?

What was that?

Probably, remembering their backgrounds, this was a method of drawing...uh...runes...and practising physical combat. That did seem likely.

Ears registering the magician -Zatanna- down with them sighing, I turned my attention to her and John Constantine. They hadn't moved since Damian, Raven and the demon- Adyn- had begun, equally as interested. Which made sense, considering they were more 'magical' than 'physical' when fighting.

Still, they seemed a lot less puzzled by it: John Constantine and Zatanna had most likely heard of this 'technique' before (if it even was a technique).

Then again, I was just speculating: a journalist's instinct, to find a plausible answer for any given situation. Ma always said I was too inquisitive for a child, no wonder I worked at the Daily Planet.

A trait Jon seemed to have inherited- perhaps from his mother though, Lois was just as bad as I was when it came to curiosity- if Kori and Dick's updates were anything to go by, and from what I'd seen from our weekend back down south.

By God, my boy was growing too fast for me too keep up with. Just like Damian. Both of them were so tall now, they'd no doubt grow to rival both Bruce and myself in height.

Smiling lightly I regarded Bruce's boy as he struck the air, spinning about that odd staff-thing.

That one was something special alright, I wondered if Bruce realised that.

***End P.O.V***

***

Damian held the last stance for a total count of five seconds, as was drilled in to his head countless times throughout his ten years in the League of Assassins. Almost in a lunge, the chalk-ended rod resting against the floor, held secure by both of his hands.

Panting, the Boy Wonder finally stood straight, casting the staff to one hand, eyes glinting a startling green, with both pride and exertion.

Before him, lay a collection of chalk instruments, each one joining to the other in the creation of a glorious orchestra- a protection rune. Of course, this was no mere, basic pattern with the standard shielding effects, oh no, this was one of the highest calibrate, perfected only after intense study and through raw talent.

No rune-caster could simply 'draw the lines' and be done with the matter; an unfathomable amount of concentration was required to infuse each line with the correct force of magic: too much energy channeled through from the rune-caster, and the entire rune would be at an imbalance, an insufficient amount of energy, and an imbalance also would occur.

Naturally, Damian had perfected magical balances by the age of five- the gods knew his instructors would have suffered him if that wasn't the case- amongst the demonic society within the League, magical training (if one possessed it, which many did) was regarded as a source of pride, and a necessity for Damian, as the direct descendant of the last Al Ghul King of Hell.

In satisfaction, Damian sneered as he looked upon his work.

Oh, if those rune-masters could see my work now...tt. They can't though, can they?

The sneer faded to a light smirk.
After suffering under the rule of his rune-masters, Damian, six at the time, had taken it upon himself to ensure the prompt decapitation of the two men who sought to instruct as much as torture him. A ridiculous notion, considering there was an entirely separate instruction for tortu- ehem - "endurance training" (as they chose to name it).

Nonetheless, Damian's pride was not in the slightest ebbed, perhaps due to the very sin herself standing nearby.

Perhaps.

A.N:

Hello my darlingssssss!

Another chapter up and another reason for me to feel a little happier about life.

Now, I don't find that there's much else to say...besides that WE'VE PASSED 20K VIEWS!!!

*INHUMAN SCREECHING*

Thank you so so so much! When I checked Wattpad on the morning that we hit 20k, I full on choked on my tea with happiness- despite having seen the 19.9k views displayed before.

This story has gotten so much support (even though the main plot has barely begun) and I can't express my gratitude enough.

Thank you again :3

-Bats