Raven's eyes fluttered open drowsily, only for her sense organs to be bombarded with an influx of sensations that her waking brain wasn't conscious enough to process.
Bright and excruciatingly intense light bore into her eyes and pierced through it to the nerves behind with the unrelenting sharpness of a surgical needle.
Air and smoke filled her lungs so fast that it expanded to its limits and froze mid-action. The inaction of her brain almost made her suffocate with how her lungs had tensed like a taut muscle.
The world around her spurn, turned and tumbled. Her skin felt unbearably hot and frigidly cold, and also a sensation of grave discomfort that neither her skin nor brain could express nor interpret.
Her mouth held open in a gasp and the organ there was besieged with the taste of fumes, smoke, salty rain, chemicals, burning sand and ash.
The sound... It was the worst of it all. Every whisper, shout, madden rage, screech of spinning wheels as well as that of tortured souls. Booms, thuds, vibrations and every kaleidoscope of chaos that could fit into the auditory spectrum, like a barbarian at the prospect of violence, attacked her ears unforgivingly and pushed her already wailing brain to its final limit that it forced her body to shut down.
The physical body of Raven was in such a physical mess that her brain enacted a forced stop on her entire bodily system, leaving only the barest minimum needed to keep her alive active.
At the very least the nightmares and the spiritual attacks, something the physical brain couldn't exactly comprehend, had stopped.
Despite all this, it could hear a sinister laugh echoing through every crevice of its dome, and no matter how much and how far it pushed it away, it still remained.
.
....
.
The wind blew kindly against Raven's face and gently prodded her away. She winced a little as the soft rays of the evening sun slowly energized her eyes.
"Ughh..."
Her throat felt as parched as desert sand and her whole body felt heavy, as if she was drowning in oil with rocks tied to every limb. Her mind felt so slow and distant that even her limbs were reacting seconds later than the thought.
Her eyelids felt like they were filled with litres of water, so heavy and sleepy, that all she wanted to do was keep them close and fall back into the lulling sleep beckoning.
"...aven. D..n't fall asl..p." The words were garbled and felt foreign but strangely her brain held tight to it and kept it repeating in her head until her thoughts started clearing.
"Raven, listen to me. Don't fall asleep. Keep trying to stay awake."
It took a few seconds before she realized what those words meant, and more importantly who they were coming from.
"... Taro.." Her whisper came out in a slow jevay groan.
Like magic, the moment the recognition of his name came to her, the weight on her thoughts started clearing up and her limbs started reacting accordingly.
"Taro." She said again, this time sounding more sure and conscious.
"Hey, little one. You almost gave this old man a scare." Taro was dutifully at her side, fingers poking at her to feel her pulse, as well as the condition of her nerves and joints. "You were wading in murky waters for a while. Good that I still know some helpful first aid."
He guided a cup to her lips, helping her gently take in small sips at a time.
Raven crashed back on the soft mattress, finally being able to breathe and speak well.
"What happened?" She asked when she finally realized she was in an unfamiliar room. "Where are we?" Even though her mind had cleared up, the phantom headaches that floated around her head prevented her thoughts from venturing too far.
"We're still in Gotham. And obviously not at home." Taro said with the hint of a sarcastic cheer in his voice, or maybe that was just Raven's mind still trying to accurately process the nuance of speech.
"I can't take you back in your current state and the house is already compromised. Laying low and getting you on your feet was more important. Especially as you kept phasing in and out of consciousness."
"Mn." She replied with an absentminded nod. She looked at her hands and raised one to slowly massage her head. She knew she should be off worse than she currently was based on the remnant sensations she could feel on every inch of her body.
That ritual had not been exactly forgiving. Well, it was from her progenitor so it kinda checked out.
Her mind recalled what he said a couple moments ago and couldn't help but ask. "You said first aid. What kind of first aid helps both the body and mind, and revitalizes the spirit?"
Taro pointed at the table at the other edge of the room. On it were glass suction cups, some oils, wool and an incense stick that was slowly burning in waspy greenish-blue flames.
He replied evenly. "Báguàn….and acupuncture."
Raven sighed. An expression that helped greatly in bleeding out some of the excess tension in her body.
"I don't even have the energy to be curious about that."
She could see Taro's eyes smiling behind his big round glasses. The faint amusement in his eyes were...grounding, if nothing else. It gave her the hope that not much had changed.
"What happened?" She asked again, tentatively.
Taro exhaled and sat at the edge of the bed. "They're dead. The acolytes and the priest." He proved his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose, making Raven finally see the crease around his eyes. They were old and tired. They felt... Forlorn.
He put the glasses back on and looked at her, the smile in his eyes still present. She could tell.
"I don't like killing, little one. It's an art I mastered but I don't have any deep sentiments for it. It's something I'd given up for years. Something I'd conditioned myself not to pick up again."
She could tell – see even – that he was telling the truth, and the raw honesty made Raven suddenly feel her throat go dry, because ever since that night where he killed those demons, and the two times that followed, she never felt it from him.
"You never hesitated." She whispered the statement as if asking it. "Not even once."
"Why?"
Taro's big hands came to her head and brushed over her bangs comfortingly. "I don't know." He said softly.
"Or maybe, at that moment I saw something more important than my own words, I don't really know. But it doesn't matter."
Raven closed her eyes and subconsciously relaxed under the comfort of the hand on her head.
"Thank you." She said softly, once more cursing her impaired emotions at how dry and empty her words of gratitude sounded.
"It's alright." She heard Taro say. His words sounded consoling as if he knew and completely understood her plight. "Just rest for now. We'll start moving when that glare of yours comes back." He joked, to which she gave a very weak deadpan.
"See?"
.
...
.
[The Underground Crypt]
The dead air in the crypt shifted as shadows crept around in its darkness, almost as if it was welcoming them as fellow dwellers in the dark and dreary.
A soft crunch of boots echoed softly in the broken crypt that sent the shadows running away.
"Yep. The cause of the tremor definitely originated from here." A dry voice spoke in a bland tone that failed to hide the youthfulness of its speaker.
At the silent beckoning of the dark, the voice complied and spoke again.
"A couple of people fought here. Opposing groups maybe. Some kind of intense fire power was thrown around – not explosive in nature given the absence of burnt marks and charred rocks. Advanced tech maybe? That's worrying. And see those cracks over there? Impact point. Whoever did that definitely wasn't from the lightweight class."
The voice trailed off at the end, remained silent for a few seconds, and started up again from the other side of the crypt.
"See this? More recurring patterns. My conclusion is that one group had more firepower than the other, and also more numbers, and the other group with lesser numbers were all physical in their attacks. A classic case of power and technique. As for their numbers, between eight and a dozen against two or three guys."
Silence came back to the crypt as the dry voice finished speaking and waited for a reply, one that even the darkness seemed to hold its breath for.
"You missed the footprint patterns. Inconsistent. Explains greater mobility. Fast but short strides. Acute movement techniques, shows skill. Inconsistent but accurate patterns, shows greater skill and premeditated intent." The air froze and the darkness probably shivered in fright when they heard that voice behind them.
"The bigger group. More inconsistent footprints."
"Shows greater mobility." The other voice interjected timely.
"No uniformity in the prints. Greater leap strength. Faster and longer strides. Better technology suggests better mobility means. Hover tech, flight or even short-range spatial displacement. All will be considered."
The voice disappeared and the younger voice, the air, and probably even the darkness, waited with bated breaths for the next time it would speak.
"Precise estimated count for the bigger group. Correction for the count of the smaller party. Individual. Single party against a group of heavily armed individuals with advanced weaponry, or otherwise."
"Otherwise?" The younger dry voice questioned.
"Wrong patterns for concussive blasts, lasers, and most energy-powered weaponry. Unknown and exoteric means are taken into consideration. All individuals involved are either enhanced or of great physicality."
The darkness finally released the air it was holding and they both breathed out as the voice went silent.
As if receiving a cue from the silence, the younger voice spoke out again. "Cause for tremor: more likely an action of the bigger group for currently unclear reasons. Might have been out of desperation, strategically carried out, or an uncontrolled outcome of the fight. The state of the crypt suggests what was already a suspicion: the tremor was not completely seismic in nature. A clear evidence being the current state of the room."
"You are improving. But your haste for a conclusion tunnels your reasoning and awareness."
The lightness in the air and the oppressing presence that no longer lingered in the midst of darkness was a tell-tale sign that the voice was gone... Or maybe not? They both shivered at the thought.
All they could do was console the owner of the younger dry voice. They knew just how hard and nerve-wracking it was to deal with that voice everyday.
.
....
.
Two days passed and Raven was finally free of all the mental and spiritual effects the ritual had on her.
Her mental walls were up and strong as they had always been, but still she couldn't be entirely sure.
She was certain that the ritual had done more than just weaken the barrier around her mind. The same barrier that stopped Trigon from outrightly possessing her body and stepping into the mortal plane.
She had scanned her mind, down to its deepest nook and cranny, even visiting thoughts she never wanted to think of, but still she couldn't find anything of Trigon's machinations in her mind, magic, or even her astral body – other than what was already there – and the lack of answers unsettled her more.
They were currently in one of Taro's safe houses, the revelation of which had Raven staring unblinking at Taro, before she remembered that, yeah, the old pudgy man wasn't just a simple shopkeeper in Gotham.
"What now?" Raven asked after her daily meditation.
Taro scratched his chin, or at least the ball of flesh he called one, was Raven's idle thought on seeing him resting on the bigger couch with a can of tropical juice in his hands.
"I don't think we can stay in Gotham anymore." She said slowly, knowing why she was asking. That he left his home behind and came with her.
The fact that he had already saved her three times spoke loudly on the budding trust she had of him.
He could take care of himself, he had shown that three times over. But now she wasn't so sure about herself. The ritual was still on her mind and she didn't want to think of what would happen if they got to her next time and she couldn't fight them off or escape in time.
"You said the Justice League could help, right?" Taro asked, and she nodded in reply.
"I doubt we'll be able to smoke out the Batman in time." Taro muttered to himself thoughtfully.
Raven sat beside him with a glass of water in hand. "In time for what?"
"Remember those assassins?"
She gave him a blank stare as she sensed the soft waft of mild irritation and disgruntlement from him when he mentioned the assassins.
"It wouldn't bode well for either of us if they tracked us down. I have some history with them, and while Deathstroke might not have recognized me, he's currently with people who might. I look differently from how I used to, but that wouldn't exactly stop them."
The irritation spiked around him but not for long as he blew it away, quite literally at that.
"So assassins might come after you soon." She stated blandly. "And demons and crazed acolytes will definitely come after me. So we leave Gotham?"
He nodded. The casual way he sat fully into the chair showed perfectly an unbothered image, one that Raven knew most elderly people carried around them. Taro was an aged adult in his mid-to-late forties, not quite yet an elderly but he already carried himself like one.
"Mn."
He fixed the temple of his glasses and pressed them down to sit steadily on his nose. "Gotham has a lot of eyes and someone is bound to know when someone is baiting out the Bat."
"What if he finds us first?" She couldn't help but ask, knowing what little she did of the fear factor that came with that particular hero's presence, but Taro simply gave a nonchalant shrug.
"Good for us if he does. Bad for us if he does." He simply retorted. "Nothing changes. We still have to leave Gotham. Preferably soon, or immediately."
Now this was different. Granted, she has not yet known Taro for even a month, but the impression he gave her, and they were all pretty strong impressions, was one of an old man who remains perpetually calm and unhurried.
'Well, they are assassins, so I can understand the haste.'
"How much trouble are they?" And wasn't that a new discovery? Her, Raven, potential herald of Doom and Armageddon, more interested in someone else's affairs for a change.
And here he goes again, casually dismissing the prospect of a horde of hunting assassins with a noncommittal wave of his hands.
"More trouble than they should be worth." He threw the can over his head and it landed on the dining table and fell, spilling its content.
"You made a mess." She pointed out dryly.
He stood up and walked towards his room, not bothering to look at the mess he made. "I know."
She wanted to give a biting retort but held her tongue as his door closed shut. She took her empty glass and walked towards the table to clean up the clumsy old man's mess when she saw the two plates on the table.
One had leftover crumbs from fully eaten pancakes and the other had half eaten pancakes, and even the fork was on the floor.
She was confused, knowing for one that Taro always made sure food on the table was fully eaten, and for second, that they didn't eat pancakes.
She wanted to ask but she felt the flash of a thought as the answer came to the front of her mind.
A staged scene.
Looking at it now, even the canned drink he threw laid spilled near the empty plate.
"Let's leave." He came out of his room with a change of clothes and a baseball cap on his head that looked comical.
There was a nondescript car at the back of the building they had stayed at, one Raven knew wasn't there yesterday but said nothing as she got in and they drove away.
"Where exactly are we going?" She asked. "And why couldn't I just open a portal for us?"
"You said you weren't exactly sure if they were locking into your location with every portal you took, right?" He asked and she gave him a simple 'yes' in reply. "Then it's a risk we can't willingly take unless we have no other choice."
He twisted his mouth under the shade of his moustache and gave out one of his silent disgruntled huffs.
The twisting of his mouth and his content in silence let Raven know that he suddenly realized he had been talking a lot more than usual these past few days and was about to move into his shell of nods, single answers and projecting intent. As if she would let him off that easily. If she was speaking more then he would too!
"So where to? Metropolis?"
An imperceptible frown came upon his face when she mentioned the city, a reaction she was seeing for the first time.
"You don't like the alien?"
He shook his head and relaxed into his seat, driving casually with one hand steering the wheels. "Nothing like that. Unimportant."
She kept staring, giving him her so-called trademarked deadpan glare until he relented and gave her his own limited edition fed up groan.
"Across states. Washington D.C. The League Headquarters, the Hall of Justice."
Raven pressed herself against the window of the car and watched as the road outside ran past them.
"So we're taking the long route to their front doors? Well, it's not as if we could seek out Superman in Metropolis anymore than we could Batman in Gotham."
They drove in silence, Raven watching the world race past them and finding herself enjoying the normalcy of it for the first time without the pressure of Trigon's impending descent snuffing out the tiniest pleasure out of everything in her life.
"Taro, I..." Words formed on her tongue but felt like lumps of stone in her throat. The words she wanted to speak were too heavy for her, so she said something instead. "Whatever happens, to me, to you, to everyone – I'm glad to have met you."
At the end, Rachel Roth was a girl who could not speak out what she wanted. And Raven was a girl who wouldn't dare dream of more, refused to even, because she was deathly scared of what more would mean.