Chapter Text
It all started with a master and an apprentice. The apprentice, a young man in his mid-twenties, still believed he and his master had a partnership, that he was no subordinate, but in fact an equal.
But for the master, there was only one student, only one boy good enough to follow in his footsteps one day. And he was going to get that boy. But to do so, the man must take precautions and have back-up plans for his pack-up plans and things like that took time. There was one last obstacle he had to overcome and he knew just the right way to do so.
"Master?" This time, the one addressing the man as 'master' wasn't a blue-haired boy, it was a girl.
Joker's son had no clue about the other apprentice the master had trained and was still training, Castor thought he was special. A cruel grin stretched the man's lips. There was only one special child out there, the one who rejected him, the only person who had earned his respect.
He looked down at the girl that bowed swiftly. He once again asked himself how old she was. Sixteen? Seventeen? He didn't really care. She was small for her age, but her looks only deceived her enemies. She was deadly, just like him.
"Apprentice," he greeted her coolly. The girl still had her head bowed, not meeting his eyes.
Submissive.
That's how the he wanted his students. A defiant student only got himself hurt and a hurt apprentice was useless on missions. The man was playing a dangerous game, a game that could cost him his head if he didn't control his apprentices. He needed them bound in chains of respect, needed the idea of them overpowering him burned out of their minds.
He had taken her in when she was still a toddler, taken her right out of the hospital bed, so she'd grow up with the knowledge that she is nothing without him. Unfortunately, Castor was different.
All the man wanted was to impale that useless boy with one of his swords, or both, but sadly, he still needed him. The master took a great risk by taking Joker's son under his wing, but with the boy's hate for Robin- no, Nightwing- corrected the man himself, Castor would do anything to get his revenge, and that just happened to be exactly what the master needed him to do. It is almost cute, seeing how Castor thought himself as a great martial arts master.
The man chuckled. Rage blinded those who were too weak to control themselves, that was the reason he didn't tell Castor that Robin was no Robin anymore, no little birdie, that there was in fact a new Robin on the streets, a Robin the master hated almost as much as Dick Grayson. Damian al Guhl. The man's smirk widened. Maybe he'd get to kill two birds with one stone. Quite literally.
"You have a new mission. You'll find everything you need in your room," he instructed coldly, staring impassively at the girl.
She bowed her head once more and nodded.
"You're dismissed."
She left without a word.
Whenever he had a mission assignment for his apprentices, he summoned them to his 'throne room', that's what Castor called it. Basically, it was a huge plain room with a throne-like chair in the middle of it and a holographic computer wall. His haunt wasn't as big as most people might think it was.
In addition to the 'throne room', he had a huge open-air training area, his personal bed room with an additional kitchen and bath room, entering was a big no-no for anyone, and then there was the hallway with two other rooms.
The girl was living with him, though they barely ever saw each other, while Castor had his own apartment in the northern part of Gotham, but the man had a room for him in his haunt anyway.
He allowed his apprentices free roam of the city, they could even leave the county if they wanted to or rent their own houses, he and his she-apprentice had lived on different sides of the world for some time, but if he called them back for a mission, he expected obedience. That was the deal.
The girl had agreed to stay with him for the time being, though she was spending a lot of time in the gym or the library over the day. He didn't supervise her, she was loyal to a fault.
Castor's small apartment on the other hand was cross-linked with hidden cameras and microphones. That boy's ego was too big for his own good.
He sighed and turned his attention to the holographic screens. Time to cage a bird.