Talia regarded her child with cold eyes the colour of hard, weathered copper- dull and green and loveless. This creation of hers had done nought to please her, only serving to distract her son when she thought Talia or her grandfather could not see. Too soft was this child of hers, the pinch of compassion in her soul would bring the downfall of her brother for certain. Yet, she had proved her use...diplomatically. Securing a deal with the Demon Lord relieved Talia of the burden of the girl and supported the League's armoury.
Several foot soldiers held the girl before her mother. She struggled against them to no avail. Talia looked in to her daughter's eyes and had only regret in her mind. Regret that she hadn't stamped out every bit of weakness from the girl at an earlier age. Such a skilled warrior... a shame truly.
The was a cracking behind her, and Talia sensed the Demon Lord's emissaries opening a portal to their realm behind her. Ra's Al Ghul stood in the shadows, beneath an unlit brassier, observing the transaction.
It had been a simple agreement.
Blades forged in the heart of the Wastelands of Hell in exchange for Talia's daughter.
The woman detected a sound from the corridor leading from the room. Footsteps. Running. She turned her head. Damian. His voice cried out and drew his sister's attention.
"Sahara! Sahara! !اختي Sister!"
Another wave of...something...came over Talia, but she pushed that aside, indicating to the foot soldiers to let her be taken away. With a last glance at her daughter's face, Talia suppressed any remote emotions, turned to Damian and prepared to reprimand him.
It would do well to forget entirely the existence of Sahara Al Ghul.
***
Adyn fought to keep an impassive face as his sister was dragged away, blood seeping from her ripped flesh and staining the floors of this room in Trigon's palace (designated specifically for punishment). Besides him, Ephron drew dangerously close, twirling his throwing blades in his fingers, and taunted, "Watch yourself brother, uphold that kind of talk and both brother Tavor and our sister will face my...wrath.", he grinned at the irony of his words.
The two of them received a summons from the throne room, the two sons of Trigon made their way there, running in to an unsuspecting servant on the way. Ephron snarled at him and the demon slammed in to the wall opposite, almost dropping his tray. That put Ephron in a good mood, and he entered the throne room ahead of Adyn with a smile.
There, the children of Trigon were assembled- including Raven, who lay on the floor besides her half-brothers like a freshly slaughtered lamb, a pitiful pile on the ground. Kadaar, Tavor, Adyn, the reasonable and just ones of her brothers knew they could do nothing. To help her would be to sentence them all to excruciating, repetitive pain: there's no extent to the amount you can endure when a dip in a pool can resurrect you stronger than ever.
Their father loomed above them all, on his throne of misery and domination, reverted to his smaller size of three metres, his horns reaching heavenwards and his eyes intent. A handful of advisors- thousand year-old demons in black armour with reminders of battle etched in to their skin as scars- stood at the base of Trigon's throne.
There was a stillness in the room, the only sound being a faint humming from the portal erected in the middle of the throne room. Then they stepped through, the soldiers, and in their arms, an Al Ghul. The granddaughter of the Demon's head, the blood of the noble house of Al Ghul, a harmless adolescent part-human.
Trigon smiled.
He could already feel Calder gearing himself up. Lust would enjoy this one, no doubt Ephron and Linus would be curious too.
Trigon saw her eyes, so fearful and green, take in her new surroundings. She looked at him, but there was something firmer in those eyes now, and she stopped struggling and stood up straight. Trigon knew she saw something in him when she looked there, something very dark and very ancient, and frankly he couldn't care less what this plaything thought. She had a bit more spirit to be broken apparently- that was no issue. Perhaps Trigon might break her himself, classical entertainment and all.
A few nights later, Raven was called to the throne room. Her short legs shook and she sped to her father, dreading inciting his frustration. In the centre of the room, facing Trigon, was this Al Ghul woman Adyn had mentioned to her. The one who'd arrived while Raven was passed out, recovering. She knew it was her, for who else had green eyes like that, save the few impoverished demons living their miserable existences serving demonic aristocrats. She was no demon (at least, not entirely, and there were no other half-demons in Hell apart from Raven...and this woman).
Stepping closer so that she too faced her father besides the woman, Raven saw that she was not a woman at all, but a girl. A teenager. Not a wizened warrior but a child no older than her brother Adyn- who himself was an adolescent in demonic years.
Her eyes didn't dare look at Raven, though she felt the Al Ghul's posture lax ever so slightly. Raven didn't open her senses to the girl- there was no way she could control her powers dealing with the trauma this girl must have faced.
Trigon glowered at them, Ephron at his side. "Child, you will face Sahara Al Ghul in combat.", Ephron sneered on his father's behalf, "Magical and physical. Hold back and we shall see how you like the taste of my new blade.", he spun a dagger in his left hand, the side of his forearm and the colour of decay- greyish green and sharp as the stench of death.
Raven was used to this routine. Face the opponent. Fight for all you are worth. Death is a mercy you won't receive. And all because her father was bored. The little demoness- half the height of the Al Ghul- turned to face her, with something akin to apology in her eyes, and leaped forwards, withdrawing a concealed blade the size of her hand.
Sahara stepped backwards, but Raven was hot on her heels, pressing forwards in slashes of silver, her free hand glowing an unstable blackish purple. The fighter's instinct of an Al Ghul kicked in, no matter how wrong this was, how hellish the Hell, how much that little Raven resembled... Sahara had to fight.
When it was over and blood spattered the floor, when Trigon got bored, the two were ordered away and to their quarters. The Al Ghul girl followed Raven. The lightless corridors led to a square room with a metal door and no window. In the middle of the 3 by 3 metres room was a single, low bed with white sheets. Raven climbed on the bed, her feet dangling over the sides. The older girl slumped on to the bed besides her, bloodied tunics staining the sheets.
Sahara looked at the child, small face scrunched up in pain, bruises forming on her visible pale skin. "How old are you?", she asked.
Raven took a second to process the question. The girl spoke English, but with an accent from Raven knew not where- not at all like her mother's. The information sat in Raven's mind -(that modern human language of her mother) Raven trialled the words on her tongue, speaking with a hoarse voice not used to talking.
"I...", she coughed, "I am five...I think...I'm maybe six...I don't know...", she mumbled the last, her voice cracking from lack of use.
They sat in silence. Sahara looked about the room. She saw a bucket of water in the corner besides a pile of cloth. This little demon girl was used to patching herself up. With aching limbs, Sahara lifted herself from the bed and stumbled over to the pail and rags, picking both up and bringing them over to the child.
Without a word, the Al Ghul dipped a rag (apparently made of torn bed-sheets) in to the water, squeezed the cloth, and pressed it against a cut in the child's arm that had torn through the fabric of her tunic. The little girl winced but made no sound, climbing further on to the bed and turning herself around to face the Al Ghul, crossing her legs in spite of the irritation of the sheets against her bruised and gashes.
Sahara cleaned up the blood on Raven's face and arms with the care of a person who'd done this far too many times- soft enough not to cause more bleeding, firmly enough to clear all traces of red. She soaked a cloth again and this time, dabbed it against Raven's forehead. A memory came to Raven's mind, of a night a long long time ago, when her mother brushed her hair away from her forehead and kissed her daughter gently, giving her a tight hug. Raven wondered if this girl- who seemed so big and wonderful- was a mother. Then she dismissed the idea. Mothers were older. She thought about it again. Her mother was young -had been- and didn't seem much older than this girl. Maybe she was a mum. Where was her child?
This older girl said nothing, but looking at Raven with such sorrow in her eyes. Raven knew the girl saw someone else when she looked at her. Someone that made her so sad.
She dropped the wet rag on the floor and crossed her legs on the bed, like Raven. Doing something similar to a smile, Sahara told Raven, "I know someone your age. He has to fight too, and he's brave, a lot like you."
Raven's chopping cut hair swung in front of her face and she looked down, "He is your son?"
Sahara shook her head, grimacing at the pain in her neck, "No. My brother."
"You miss him?"
"I think...yes. But I know he can look after himself. He's strong on the inside and out.", she smiled genuinely, poking the little demoness' nose, "Like you, I think."
Raven's purple eyes saddened and glimmered a glassy, periwinkle blue. "I do not think so.", a silver stern trickled down the demoness' cheek, wiped away by the calloused yet soft, light caramel fingers of the older girl.
"Don't cry. There are more important things to spend your tears on."
A red-skinned, yellow-eyes, white-haired demon burst in to Raven's room. The child jumped in fright.
Adyn shut the door behind him, in a flash of light, he was transformed: champagne ringlets, warm red eyes, little horn stubs, light-pink skin and a face etched in concern.
"Raven, are-", he spoke in the demon-tongue, but stopped short when he saw the Al Ghul girl besides his sister.
He reverted to English and addressed Sahara, quietly, "May I tend to your wounds?"
"I'm fine myself-"
"No, I insist.", he said, and smiled at his sister, "Move along Raven, I'm not so thin." The demoness grinned in spite of herself- of course he was thin, with Avarice taking anything from him that he could.
And so, Adyn cleaned up the blood on Sahara's arms, holding it and twisting lightly to reach all the cuts. Done with her arms, he pressed the cloths to the little lines and specks of blood on her face. Wiping a smear from her cheek, Adyn said, "Raven's wounds will heal themselves soon, how is your healing rate?"
"More than an average human, but it will take a while.", she confessed in an almost-whisper.
That confirmed it for Adyn, and he placed both his hands on her shoulders channeling the magic at his core in to her. The aches of her back and arms and the stinging pains melted mostly away, there was still an underlying hum of discomfort, but for the most part, she was healed.
Adyn almost swooned, but caught himself in the last moment, laughing shakily, "I'm not so good at healing. Or anything truly. I hope you feel better."
Sahara looked at him with wonder, "Yes, thank you."
They stared at each other for a moment, then Raven and Adyn's heads turned towards the door, hearing something Sahara couldn't. "Father summons me.", Adyn muttered.
He stood and half-smiled half-grimaced at the two of them before dashing off in to the corridor.
***
Adyn glued his eyes to the floor, wincing with very wavering note of Sahara's piercing screams. Linus dug the blade deeper in to her side, twisting as she screamed in agony. Adyn knew the look that would display itself proudly on Trigon's face- that grin that showed just how hungry for pain he was.
And it was all Adyn's fault. How could he have been so stupid? Ephron had walked in, last night, on Sahara in Adyn's chambers. It was a hug. A stupid hug. Something to reassure Sahara that it would get better (a lie) but Ephron happened to walk in.
And this was his punishment. Four weeks of Sahara living in this Hell, and she'd witness atrocities that no words in the English language, or Arabic, or Mandarin, or any human language, could define. He couldn't take it. Maybe Trigon was trying to get the Wrath in him really going, test his potential. But they'd already done that with Raven- getting Adyn so worked up that he couldn't control his Wrath.
Kadaar walked through the doors of the throne room, eyes falling upon the scene with pity. He looked sympathetic ally towards Adyn, who'd raised his head at the noise. Behind Kadaar, Raven trailed, her tiny fingers playing with the hem of her tunic, head bowed in spite of Sahara's desperate cries.
Adyn looked up a little more, and saw that her large eyes were welling with unexpressed emotion. She still had some tears left. Balling her hands in to fists, Raven met her father's eyes and bowed.
Kadaar spoke.
"There is a meeting of the Wasteland Border Patrol now. Linus is needed.", he said simply, bowing.
Linus dropped Sahara, the dagger still in her stomach, and glared at his interrupting brother. He nodded to Trigon, waiting for the go-ahead. The Demon Lord waved two fingers, indicating that Linus was excused.
"Take her away Kadaar. I've grown tired."
Obeying his father, he held his hands in front of him, palms up, and lifted his hands. As he did so, a black shadow of magic immersed his hands and the Al Ghul. His powers lifted her gently off the ground and she hovered in the air, groaning softly. Adyn scurried after them, taking the rear behind his little half-sister.
Laying the Al Ghul down in her lonely bed in her box-like room lit by two sad candles in a lone candelabra, Adyn had his mind made up. Little Raven and this kind, beautiful, melancholy Al Ghul, they wouldn't stay here. They couldn't. Both were of Earth, they could find a way to- it was a mad idea... but it's success chance wasn't improbable.
He had to get them out, no matter the consequences.
***Three***Years***Later***
The diversion had worked. It had truly worked! And Raven and Adyn and Sahara were running. Running for their lives in opposite directions. Running and running and running. Away from the carnage -the fires and bodies. Kadaar and Tavor were miracle workers. Trigon would never know they helped them, and Adyn, Raven and Sahara would be too far away for Trigon to do anything to them.
Raven, that strong child with powers beyond reckoning had been the one to do it: trap Trigon in that crystal in the unnatural lands bordering the Wastelands. She was exhausted, but they would make it. All three of them.
Adyn drew Sahara towards him as they stopped behind a boulder of black rock. He kissed her, holding her tightly like he was going to lose her- but that would never happen. They parted, leading soldiers in three directions, set to regroup right on the border.
But it all went wrong.
There was shouting. The cliff was close, dropping thousands of feet in to the Wastelands. A circle of advancing soldiers. Fire. And Adyn couldn't reach. Sahara hung over the edge. Raven couldn't hold on. Her little fingers couldn't do it.
And she was gone. Sahara Al Ghul, kind, beautiful, melancholy. But this time, with hope. She fell with hope in her heart and resignation in her eyes.
Adyn was swarmed by a battalion, tacking him to the rocky ground. He shouted with all his might, "Go Raven! Just go! "
She opened the portal and Adyn did not see her again. Not for another seven years.
A.N:
I'm not saying anything about it.
I updated early! WOOP! Because I won't be able to update on Thursday and I really want to get this chapter out! I hope you enjoyed that.
Thanks!
-Bats :3