Chương 48: SS – Rest for the Weary

Shadow and shape mix together at dawn But by the time you catch them, simplicity's gone So we sort through the pieces, my friends and I Searching through the darkness to find the breaks in the sky And the reason that she loved him was the reason I loved him too And he never wondered what was right or wrong He just knew, he just knew Raven awoke with a start to the sun setting over San Fransico Bay, the light glinting off Titan Tower.

From the strange disembodied perspective the Elden Lord had held her in, her last sight had been a vision of herself. A more mature, red-cloaked and four-eyed version of herself, standing over her father and taunting him as he died. One moment she watched Trigon, her father and source of all her nightmares, collapse inward in a shower of blood, fire, and shadow.

The next, she sat bolt upright from where she lay on a bench, the sensations of having a body again, plus the light from the setting sun, almost blinded her. Raven blinked back stars as her vision swam.

"Easy there," a calm voice murmured in her ear. It was soothing and familiar. For a brief instant, Raven thought of her youth. Thought of those early years in Azarath before she had heard of Trigon. Before she knew what she was.

"What happened?" Raven asked, not willing to allow herself to follow that thought. Blinking away the light and turning to the woman. It was all a blur of colours, predominantly white with a splash of red.

"Who are you?"

"Trigon's dead," the woman said, her voice almost entirely monotone but for the barest hint of emotion. Raven froze, her sight recovering.

"Mikael confirmed it. There will be no resurrections, comebacks, or summonings. You are free."

"Mom?" Raven would deny the crack in her voice till the day she died, deny that her eyes welled up and a hope, long thought lost, budded in her breast. The woman shook her head gently, sending Raven's hope to die. Now that she was paying attention, however, Raven could make out the little differences between the woman in front of her and her memories of her mother. For one, she was more full-figured than Arella had been and possibly taller. It was hard to tell since they were both sitting down.

Apart from that, the white cloak the woman wore was not a robe of the Azaranthian order, but one similar to Raven's own, and its hood was embroidered with a red crown-like circlet in the cloth. Apart from those little details, the woman was almost an exact copy of Angela Roth had been. Or how Raven would be in a few years.

"I am not our mother," the older Raven said gently.

"No matter how I wish she had lived to see this day."

"Then you are..." Raven asked hesitantly.

"Like the other Wonder Woman?"

"You can call her Diana, and I, Rachel," Rachel said, the barest uptick of her lips indicating a smile.

"I do still prefer Raven, but it will keep things from being too complicated when the two of us are together. But yes, I am you. A version of yourself from a different universe." Raven sat for a moment, reeling at the idea or implications, then her last sight before falling unconsciousness came back to mind.

"You killed Trigon?" Raven half asked, half demanded.

"I did," Rachel said.

"How?"

"I absorbed so much of his power he simply could not keep himself invulnerable any longer. From there, it was relatively simple," Rachel said in her monotone as if explaining how she had changed the ink of a copy machine.

"It couldn't be that simple!" Raven denied it in disbelief. It couldn't be that easy. Trigon the Terrible would not die so quickly. Not the figure who had destroyed worlds and haunted her every waking nightmare.

"The setup was a bit more complicated," Rachel nodded.

"Mikael made the plan, so if you want exact details, you'll need to ask him. But in the end, that is basically what happened. As soon as I had absorbed enough, consumed enough of what made him so powerful, he was no different than any other strong demon."

"How did you absorb his power?"

"A gift from my husband," the older woman said, the first clear sign of emotion on her face as she smiled. It wasn't a wide one, but it was real. She raised her hand, and whisps of darkness fell from it. A wave of shadows fell to the pier and spread slowly. A cigarette butt someone had thrown away sank into the murky waves. Raven watched it with wide, almost terrified eyes.

"One of many," Rachel continued, dismissing the shadow with another hand wave.

"If Trigon had noticed, he might have been able to flee with most of his power. But he didn't, and now we are free. Everything he once was, I now hold."

"He's gone? For good?" Raven asked, reality almost swimming in her mind from the thought. Was she dreaming?

"For good." Rachel nodded, a hand idly touching the red crown embroidered on her hood.

"Mikael was right. You didn't believe he could do it. You still don't. Even when he separated your consciousness and forced you to watch, you still don't believe he's gone. But this is real. You are not dreaming or dead. Trigon is dead. You are free." Raven didn't answer for a long moment. Then she did what she usually did when confronted. She deflected.

"So you are the new Trigon?" Raven asked, half hopeful and half fearful as an idea came to mind. Would she have to stop being a hero? She still knew some magic, but most of her powers came from her fa- from Trigon.

"Can you... can you make me human? Remove his influence, his blood?"

"You are already free from his influence," the older cambion said.

"My husband purged it when he switched your body with my shadow construct. But you never had his blood. It was always yours. Ours. Never his."

"But-""Take it from someone who has walked that path," Rachel cut off her younger self.

"We may deny it as much as possible, but we must stop being afraid. Our demonic side is us as much as our love, our compassion. Like humans, we hold both. The sooner you accept it, the sooner you can truly live. Only then can we truly gain control of our powers."

"Is that what you did?" Raven asked, her words almost bitter in their sarcasm.

"Yes and no," Rachel nodded, unconcerned with her disgruntled younger self.

"I have my own method. One that lets me be whole. The same process will not work for you. We are different people with different experiences and goals."

"If we are so different, why are you helping me?"

"Because I wish someone would have helped me," Rachel responded simply.

"My team tried, but our situations are so unique that I never had a mentor or guide. I would have given almost anything to be free of my Trigon, to have someone who knew what I was going through and could provide some advice. I was blindly flailing around, and I hope you can avoid some of my mistakes."

"You were a Titan too?" Raven couldn't help but ask, curious about her older self's experience. It also shifted the topic away from one of her deepest, darkest wishes. The thoughts that kept her up at night, bitter laments over 'whys' and 'what ifs.'

"I was," Rachel nodded, smiling slightly in fond remembrance.

"My team was somewhat different, and it changed over the years, but the Teen Titans will always hold a place in my heart. The family I found when I had nowhere else to go."

"What happened?" Raven asked, detecting the tone of the woman's voice even if she couldn't feel her emotions.

"I lost them," Rachel admitted.

"Too early. Before I gained control. Before I allowed myself to feel. I always held myself back, too afraid of what I could do if I lost control. Of Trigon and his plans. I hope you can avoid that. Laugh. Love. Cry. Build precious memories without fear of 'what could be.'" Raven didn't know what to say to that. How do you comfort an alternate version of yourself from the future?

"Your team will need you," Rachel continued.

"Now especially, but in the future as well."

"Are they alright?" Raven asked, almost fearful of the answer.

"They are whole and safe," Rachel nodded.

"Glynda is looking after them, but you should talk to them. Explain things. Our brothers were not kind to them, but if they are like my friends were, the Titans will recover. They are strong."

"This is all my fault," Raven grumbled.

"I should have told them. Explained the plan. Now a bunch of people are dead, and they were mind controlled."

"If you had, many more people would have died," Rachel denied plainly.

"We didn't know who was out there or what they planned. Trigon had been watching you and would have set up countermeasures against anything you did. By walking into a trap, we could minimize casualties and end Trigon's threat once and for all. If you wish to blame anyone, blame our father and brothers. Their actions are theirs alone." Raven wanted to argue, to explain that if she hadn't been there, then none of this would have happened. Rachel simply raised a brow, an almost imperceptible smirk on her lips.

Raven's words died in her throat. Of course a version of herself would know precisely what she would say. Better to change the subject.

"The Elden Lord?" Raven asked in her normal caustic voice.

"Really?"

"Hm," Rachel hummed, obviously deliberating what to say as she looked out over the ocean.

"Don't let his terrible sense of humour fool you. Though he may pretend otherwise, he is more mature than anyone I have ever dated. If your tastes are anything like mine, that is one of the most important things we look for in men."

"Mature? Him?" Raven sputtered in denial.

"The guy who kept saying 'poke' to get me to eat? Who can't finish a sentence without making a pun? Are we talking about the same man? No way. Not happening. He's like an older, more cocky Beast Boy." Rachel's mouth quirked the tinies bit again, and it took Raven a moment to realize what was so funny to her other self.

"That's not possible," Raven denied.

"There is no world where I would ever date Garfield. I mean, he's, he's... he's Beast Boy." She said as if that explained anything.

"And yet, before I started my relationship with Mikael, my time with Garfield was some of the happiest I had ever been," Rachel said plainly.

"I don't believe you."

"I am not saying you should date him, or anyone for that matter. I have no idea if he is the same as my Garfield or if your tastes are the same as mine. Just... do not discount him, nor Mikael. Star noticed right away. Those who laugh loudest often cry quietly. Someone doesn't have to be quiet to be mature. I won't say anything about Garfield, that is his story to share if he wishes, but I will say Mikael is like us. The primary thing he searches for in a relationship partner is emotional maturity."

"Then why is he so," Raven searched for the right word. You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

"Childish? Annoying? We have all called him much worse before, do not mind it. He knows what he is doing." Rachel paused, eyes distant.

"When things get bad, and I mean really terrible, people handle it differently. You and I, we retreat inward. Others get mad. Mikeal laughs. He chooses to laugh. And then, when things get better, he continues to laugh because why wouldn't he? There are much worse habits than jokes."

"I guess," Raven agreed reluctantly.

"I just don't see what you see in him."

"That wasn't what originally got me to fall in love with him," Rachel admitted.

"It was his control of himself and his emotions. He channels them, even the worst of his whims, into his goals. I only know of one time he ever lost control in the entire time I've known him. It was in completely understandable circumstances, and even then, it was only for a short time. Then he refocused. I admired that control and envied it."

"That's it?"

"And when we were... dating, I guess you could call it that, it was the little things that built up. How he always made sure to show us the best the world had to offer. He would listen to our problems, even though he had enough on his plate. And his curiosity. Mikael is always learning. More than anyone I have ever met, Mikael is always seeking to improve his knowledge." Raven listened to her older self almost ramble as she talked about her husband.

The look on her face, placid to most observers, was an open book to the Titan. Amusement. Sympathy. Remembrance. Love. For just a moment, Raven felt jealous. Jealous that this woman, this 'what if' version of herself, had found someone she clearly loved and who loved her back. Her relationship was unconventional, to say the least, but she was clearly happy.

"Perhaps another way to look at it then," Rachel said, standing up and looking down at the still-sitting Raven.

"My husband successfully schemed against one of the greatest demon lords ever. He orchestrated events that minimalized casualties, less than fifty injured or dead, against a being who conquered multiple realities. I can only think of two, maybe three beings on this planet who would be smart enough to pull that off and not one of them would have done so at their wife's request."

"When you put it like that," Raven muttered, standing as well. She was already fully recovered from the vertigo she felt when she first awoke.

"Maturity is not age," Rachel said patiently.

"It is not being serious or not being childish. Maturity is knowing oneself and your place in the world. It is accepting the consequences of your actions. Then deciding to act in a way that allows you to be who you want to be. Maturity is not something some people simply are. It is a choice."

"And he chooses to be a man-child," Raven sighed.

"It just seems like such a waste, is all."

"But it is his choice," Rachel nodded before redirecting the topic back to what she had stayed around to say.

"Just as you now face yours. It is not my place to say what you should do or who you should become. I merely wished to give you options and opportunities I lacked."

"Thank you," Raven said softly, meeting the older woman's eyes.

"I never said it to him, but I will say it to you. Thank you. For everything."

"Your welcome," Rachel replied just as softly. Then she nodded towards the Titan Tower.

"You should get back. Mikael is done explaining things to the others, though they will have questions for you. Your team is also worried about you."

"Will I see you again?" The young woman asked, hiding her nervousness well.

"I'll be around," Rachel nodded lightly.

"I'll visit. If you have questions or need to talk, you can tell Glynda. She'll let me know. She has become quite fond of you all and will be sticking around. Though I think Scathach will probably move on once the week is over."

"What are you going to do now? You're the new Demon Lord." Raven didn't know how to feel about that. Anything was better than Trigon, but she was sure there would be problems in the future. Nightwing would be insufferable with his questions, she knew. He was very much his teacher's student like that.

"I am more powerful, but I am still me," Rachel said in a repeat of her husband's words.

"Power is just power. It is up to us to decide its purpose. I will use it for my family. To never lose it again. What you do with yours will be your choice. I am returning to where I belong, just as you should. We both have families waiting for us. Take care, and let me know if you need anything." Raven almost spoke, made some sarcastic comment or asked another question. But the young cambion closed her mouth and looked away, the tiniest flush in her cheeks. It felt... nice, to have a woman she could count on.

To look up to. She would never say it, but she was always a bit envious of her teammates' bonds with their mentors. Rachel gave her younger self one last encouraging smile before disappearing. Raven watched her older self vanish into her white shadow. It felt odd knowing she had someone looking out for her now. And, out of every Titan, her backing was definitely the coolest. None of the others could say they had a demon lord looking out for them.

With a sardonic smirk at the ironic twist of fate, Raven turned to fly home, that most insidious of demons still beating in her breast.

Batman watched the footage for the seventeenth time. He frowned. He was missing something, some clue that fit everything together. Some niggling little detail that put the picture together. So far, everything was lining up as the Elden Lord, and later Raven, explained. According to the draconic alien, he sensed Trigon's influence on Raven and started a plan to minimize casualties and stop Trigon's invasion. If you bought his arguments, Mikael had done it to help the earth and save a younger version of his wife.

Batman was not surprised that the hitherto unseen 'Raven' was a version of the Teen Titan. He had deduced as much as soon as the dragon had stated his interest in the Protectorate team. He hadn't told anyone that fact. Both to observe the dragon's movement and determine his aim. Batman squashed his slight guilt at the thought of his lies by omission with the iron will he cultivated throughout his life. Guilt and regrets would not save the world. Dick would recover, as would his team.

Batman had kept an eye on them since the failed invasion, even more than before. Partly out of concern and partly to make sure the Elden Lord didn't have any further plans. He also used his considerable money and influence to ensure that the Titan's image was not ruined. He wasn't the only one, as the PRT had a vested interest in making sure one of their most beloved teams was not seen as a group of monsters.

So far, the narrative had been successfully shaped to the Titans being victims of a group of Masters while performing search and rescue. Public sympathy was on their side, despite a vocal minority. People always wanted to tear heroes down or kick people when they were down. Thinking about the last week, there was one silver lining to this debacle. Everyone now knew how manipulative the Elden Lord could be. Most were convinced he was still on the side of good and saw him as a more powerful and friendly Batman.

Batman's frown deepened into a scowl. Using all he gained through observation, testimony, and evidence, the caped crusader had already compiled a primary psychological profile of the dragon. It wasn't pretty. And then there were his 'wives.' Diana and Artoria, over the last week they had been working with the League, had proven themselves to not only be incredibly powerful and resourceful but to be fiercely loyal to their 'family.'

The pair had solved several issues on their own, from basic robberies in a city to helping negotiate a peaceful settlement between two warring nations. They then stopped a cabal of rogue magi hoping to inflict a curse upon London. The pair flitted from one heroic effort to another, rarely resting or taking a break. It was an energy usually seen in heroes just starting out, which they definitely weren't, or coming back from a long injury or retirement attempt.

The two were never really alone, always accompanied by another Leauge member, usually Wonder Woman, but that hardly slowed them down. Batman's scowl deepened. Despite hopes to use them as a point of weakness for the insular 'Family,' either as turning points or sources of information, he had learned little of use. The pair were friendly enough and happy to talk about their lives before meeting Mikael.

Batman already had an extensive dossier on potential threats this new version of Wonder Woman had pointed out, though he was careful to take it with a grain of salt since he had noticed discrepancies. Any time the subject turned to the Elden Lord, they either replied with vagaries, shifted the topic, or outright said they wouldn't spill his secrets. It was the same when they talked about the rest of the 'wives.'

Little amusing anecdotes were the best the League had gotten on them, but nothing about abilities, goals, or origins. The only commonality Batman had found was that all the women were from destroyed worlds, and the Elden Lord had saved them. All but Ranni and Melina. And then there was this most recent disaster. Looking at the things on the surface, the Elden Lord had saved the world from the interdimensional invasion by one of the most infamous world conquerors. Looking even a bit deeper, you could see the truth.

The Elden Lord now had the power of that same interdimensional conqueror through one of his loyal followers and gained an enormous boost in positive PR. And the superhero community took another black eye by failing to be the ones to stop the threat. Again. To call it an unmitigated disaster was an understatement. Batman was about to rewatch the clip for the twenty-second time when a communication came through.

After making sure proper defences were in place, and the signal was encrypted so it couldn't be tracked to the Batcave, he accepted the call. Stephen Strange's face appeared on his screen, looking worn and haggard.

"What happened?" Batman asked by way of greeting. As a member of the League, he did not have any jurisdictional authority over the Sorcerer Supreme. Nor was the magic user the type of man who would follow his orders out of admiration or respect like some of the junior heroes did. But, as a fellow member of the Illuminati, a small group dedicated to preserving life on Earth, a certain amount of communication was expected since he was the one who relayed messages more often than not.

"I've caught the thief," Strange said with an exhausted sigh.

"Some hedge mage specializing in teleportation. Would have got him days ago if he wasn't being protected by members of the Hand."

"Any connection to the Elden Lord?" Batman asked.

"Not as far as I could tell," the sorcerer denied.

"An opportunist that managed to discover that my wards were destroyed. He teleported in while Wang was out, and I was dealing with an out-world threat. I recovered most of the stolen items, but I am still missing a few books and artifacts. By the time I caught up, he had sold them, and the leads have dead-ended."

"Anything to be aware of?"

"Nothing especially dangerous or significantly powerful. He could only grab whatever was out in the open and not behind the internal protections. A few books on rituals, astromancy, one of the scrolls the Elden Lord gave me, a handful of protection charms against scrying, and a pair of conjoined doorways that allow for minor dimensional travel on the same plane of reality. The most I see it used for is some smuggling operations and some basic dark magic."

Ironically, the mention of the Elden Lord's scrolls allayed Batman's fear that this was another one of his schemes. There would be no point in giving the Sorcerer Supreme a tome only to steal it again. It was always possible the dragon had tipped this opportunist off about the Sanctum's weakness, but there was so little gained that it was not worth the risk. On top of that, it just wasn't the dragon's style. The Elden Lord was an egoist. If he wanted to rob Strange, he would do it himself.

With his power and immunity to all forms of magical observation, there was little Strange could do to stop the Elden Lord without a direct confrontation.

"Sent me a detailed list. I'll let the others know what to keep an eye out for. Have you checked the site?"

"I have. Whatever Medea did repaired the dimensional walls enough for them to recover independently. That park will need to be quarantined for a while. That much death and blood, especially demonic, can often lead to cursed locations. We will need to watch it to see how it develops."

"I will have the PRT keep an eye on it. It is their jurisdiction now that the active crisis is over."

"Then I'm going to sleep," Strange sagged.

"I'll be out of it for a few days. I've been up for over a month."

"Get some rest," Batman nodded, knowing how busy the man had been since the Elden Lord's landing.

"One last thing," Strange said before closing the communication.

"I've heard some disquiet from the magic community of late."

"The Blinding?" Batman asked, aware of how the Elden Lord's arrival had disrupted all prophecies. The Clairvoyant's most recent prediction was proven wrong within half a day.

"Many people are still reeling from that," the Sorcerer Supreme nodded, then shook his head.

"This is something else. A lot of people are running scared. Hiding away, setting up more potent wards, only travelling in groups and only when needed. I've even had a few come to me to ask for transportation out of the dimension."

"Anything concrete?"

"Near as I can tell, a Council of Skyfathers was convened while I was gone, and factions split. I don't know what about or along what lines, but it has scared anyone connected to the Divine. Some of them are claiming the end of the world. Others are saying it's a new diluvian-esque judgment. Most are taking a wait-and-see approach. These same people are always freaking out about one thing or another, though never to this degree."

"I'll have Stark talk to Thor when he returns from Asgard," Batman responded, wishing he had more insights into the magical community for the millionth time.

"I'll hit up some contacts. Get some rest. You're dead on your feet."

"I'll do that." The Sorcerer Supreme cut his feed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. Batman quickly sent off encrypted messages to the rest of the Illuminati, filling them in on what he decided they needed to know and asking for updates. Stark was attending another gala, so he wouldn't respond till tomorrow when he woke up and sobered up. Parker answered right away. He'd have their project ready by the end of November. Hopefully in time to be used in the next Endbringer fight.

Xavier reported the new White Queen of the Hellfire Club would be a possible recruit. Batman would have to look more deeply into Emma Frost and her recent rise to the top before he agreed to put forth feelers. Her intelligence wasn't in question after her recent actions with the club. She must have been planning that coup for years. She had also been willing to work with the heroes when they had been planning to confront the Elden Lord in Australia, so she was at least heroic leaning.

The group were looking for a few recruits after Doom left them to govern his country, and Richards retired with the rest of their family. It had been years, and over a dozen other candidates had been rejected by the group for one reason or another. They could start the process of testing her next week. Batman was still more partial to admitting Dragon to the Illuminati. She was one of the best Tinkers on the planet and had a solid moral compass despite being an AI.

Her inclusion would also free him up from communication and aid in his development of the Watchtower and other projects. And should worst come to worst... Batman looked at the briefcase encased in one of his containment bays, and for a second, his scowl lighted just a tad. Then it was gone, and he was back to work contacting the last active member of the Illuminati, even if only for inclusion.

Luthor was focused on winning his upcoming election to the Senate and wasn't likely to involve himself in the group's affairs for another month or so. After the Illuminati, Batman also sent a message to Constantine, hoping the unreliable mage would answer within the month. Then he directed Damian to consult Zatara on anything she might know about the recent unrest Strange had noticed. Then Batman spent five minutes dealing with Bruce Wayne's correspondence.

Nothing of note, just an invitation to a charity ball, notifications of his stock portfolio, the monthly status update of Wayne Enterprises, and other miscellaneous letters and messages. There was a brief interruption when Alfred brought him lunch, but then Batman returned to studying the Elden Lord's actions on the 30th. As he was watching the clips for the thirty-seventh time, he paused. Then rewound. Footage of the Diamond Heights Shopping Center was plentiful, thanks to all the security cameras.

The events in Glen Canyon Park were also well documented, thanks to the size of the gate and the length of the fight. Unfortunately, that is where their luck ran out. The few public cameras along the beachfront had been too far away from the ritual site to have any good look at the exact goings on, and what they did have was soundless.

Batman could read lips, even if the images were grainy, and the words matched Raven's account, so that was a small blessing to know there weren't inconsistencies in her story that would point to her being compromised. It wasn't the lips he was staring at, though. He was staring at a bright, floral print shirt. It was open, exposing most of the Elden Lord's chest. Then Wrath was killed in a shower of gore, and the bright colours were dyed bloody red and brown.

Batman watched, eyes unblinking as the camera, zoomed in as much as possible, moved forward one frame at a time. Click. Click. Click. Cli- There! Batman froze the image, pulled up the last frame, and placed them side by side. Both pictures had an awful shirt covered in blood and viscera. One of them had an equally bloody chest. The other was completely clean of blood except for a few drops still being absorbed into tan flesh. Batman couldn't scowl any harder at this point. But he tried.