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              Azar paced back in forth in the large, spacious room overlooking Azarath.  The room had large open windows, carpets on the ground that would rival Persian carpets, and drapes made of silk that felt and looked like it was handcrafted by the gods.  “Has anything changed?” Azar asked, doing her best to remain regal and calm, the perfect picture of grace and elegance.  She was ringing her hands nervously on the inside. 

              One of the four seers sitting cross-legged on the carpet answered her, “Nothing, Regina.  Everything is the same.  In every scenario we have seen so far, the end is the same. Nothing has changed.  When the child reaches the age of 12, Azarath will be destroyed.”

              “And Earth?” Azar asked.

              “The same fate,” another seer looked up at Azar with her large, turquoise eyes.

              “Who else knows?” Azar asked.

              “Only you, Regina,” a different seer said softly.

              “Thank you,” Azar bowed her head in respect.  She turned and walked out the room.  After exiting the temple, Azar stared out at the vast city in front of her.  She stifled a sob.  She only wanted to protect a child who had something thrust upon her that she didn’t deserve.  She didn’t mean to doom all of Azarath.  She inhaled deeply and exhaled softly.  She needed to gather all of the elders; she could no longer keep this to herself.

              “I say we cast her out.  Send her back to Earth.  She’s their problem,” an elder named Alec said.

              “I’m not going to do that,” Azar said, rolling her eyes.  “That is out of the question.”

              “But the demon growing inside her –“

              “We don’t know what the babe will look like,” a female elder named Alba interrupted him.

              “Take a look at Trigon’s other children!” Alec contested.

              “This one may be different,” a different elder named Cicero spoke up.  “This is a first for us.  For the first time, we were able to get one of Trigon’s brides.”

              “And now Azarath will be destroyed!” Alec yelled.

              “And Earth,” Hadriana, the fourth elder added.

              “How sure are you that the portal will be opened?” Alba asked Azar.

              “The number of futures our seers have seen are nearing infinity.  They have not rested.  I am thinking of telling them to stop.  It’s no use.  He’s coming no matter what we do.”

              “So, we’re doomed!” Alec said in anger.  “You have doomed us all!” he pointed at Azar.  Azar held up a hand.  “We need resolutions, not accusations.”

              “You say that no matter what we do, Trigon will come,” Hadriana said, tapping her lip in thought.  “So, what if we prepare the babe for the father’s coming?” she asked.  The other elders sat back in their chairs in deep contemplation.

              “That could work,” Cicera said.  “Do we know why the child decides to open the portal?”

              “Other than the fact that it’s a demon!” Alec spat.

              “If you have nothing to contribute to this meeting, you can leave,” Azar pinned the old man with a dark glare.  He immediately closed his mouth.  “We don’t know exactly why the child opens the portal,” Azar said calmly.  “Hadriana, you said we prepare the babe for its father’s coming.  What do you have in mind?”

              “Well, every child of Trigon draws his powers from emotions, mainly their own emotions.  Trigon thrives on strife and chaos which is why his children are so…unpredictable.  Also, he intensifies their emotions, making them nightmares to deal with.”

              “We know how Trigon works,” Alec rolled his eyes.

              “Again,” Alba reminded him, “you are welcome to leave.”

              “So, we teach him to control his emotions, to mask them, make it impossible for Trigon to get a hold of him through them,” Hadriana continued.

               “A him?” Cicero asked.

               “No daughter of Trigon has ever survived the full gestation period.  Or infancy.  Also, out of all the women Trigon has taken, maybe three or four carried girls,” Alba said.  While they had been discussing Trigon’s children, Azar had been thinking about Hadriana’s idea.  “Hadriana,” Azar said, “That could work.”

              “How?” Cicero asked. 

               Hadriana spoke. “It is important for babies to see emotions on their mother’s face,” she began to explain.  “They learn mainly about anger and sadness by watching people’s faces.”

              “So, we separate the baby from the mother when it’s born?” Cicero asked still unsure.

              “Absolutely not!” Azar said.  “Arella has been through too much.  I could not do that to her.  I refuse.”

              “Well…what should we do then?” Alec asked.  A moment of silence overtook the elders and Azar, each lost in their own thoughts.  “We can try full-faced white masks,” Alec, surprisingly, offered.

              “And scare the child to death?” Alba retorted.  “What is wrong with you?”

              “It won’t scare the baby if that is all he is used to seeing for the first two years of his life,” he answered.

              “That may work,” Hadriana admitted.  “If we keep the child separated from all other children, we won’t have to worry about the baby inadvertently absorbing other children’s emotions.”

              “That’s good,” Azar said pacing back and forth, a plan already forming in her head.  “We need to make sure the child forms no emotional attachments to anything and anyone.”

              “That means we are going to have to separate mother and daughter,” Cicero said. 

               Azar turned to face him.  “No, we can’t.  Let her at least breastfeed the babe,” Azar pled her case.  At the end of the day, the choice was primarily hers.

              “She is going to have to wear a mask,” Alba said.  Azar nodded in agreement.  She could live with that. 

               “Also, we should teach her to protect herself,” Hadriana said.  “Sir Xander can teach the child,” her eyes lighting up.  “He has mastered every form of marital arts and weaponry.”

              “We teach the child all forms of relaxation and meditation,” Azar said.  “We hone the child’s abilities.  And maybe, just maybe, instead of the child being a tool of Trigon’s, the child can become a weapon to be wielded against Trigon.”  The elders nodded in agreement. 

              “One can hope,” Hadriana said.  Sensing the meeting was coming to an end, Azar said, “I believe we are agreed.  We will expand on the details later.  You are all dismissed.”  The elders bowed respectfully to her as they exited the room.  Azar began the long walk to the palace where Arella was housed.  This was going to be a difficult conversation.

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              Azar came across Arella and Terry reclining in the library.  Ever since her arrival, Terry had been Arella’s constant companion, a shadow, really.  He wasn’t in love with her, he was just…enthralled.  Terry thought all earthlings had at least 2 heads, 3 eyes, 4 toes on each leg and other crazy machinations.  The very first time Arella took her shoes off, he had stared at her feet for about an hour.  And then he inspected Arella’s feet up close and personal, counting her toes.  For a while, Arella avoided him like the plague, and Azar didn’t blame her.  But after therapy-like meetings, Arella was now comfortable enough to be in the same room with him alone.  And Azar was glad Arella had at least one friend.

              They both looked up as Azar entered the library.  “What is going on here?” she asked the two teens who were each reclining in a bean bag chair, Arella’s pregnant belly standing out like a sore thumb.  Really, the child should not be walking around.  She was about to burst.  And if anyone doubted the heritage of the babe growing in her stomach, they just had to ask her how many months she’d been pregnant.  Arella had only been pregnant for 8 weeks, but she looked like she had been carrying for 9 months.

              “Terry is quizzing me on the future perfect tense of Azarathian verbs,” Arella said, beaming at Azar.  Another thing Azar quickly learned about Arella was that she was incredibly intelligent, given the right tools to study with.  In these past 8 weeks, Arella had learned about 80% of the language of Azarath. 

              “That is so nice of him,” Azar beamed.  “Terry, may I speak with Arella alone?”  Terry nodded.  He immediately jumped up from his place on the floor and all but skipped out the library.  Arella moved to get up, but Azar stopped her.  “No, no, no, child,” Arella said with a laugh.  “These old bones still work well enough for me to bend down this low.  I will be fine,” Azar relaxed in the comfortable bean bag.  “I’m not that old,” she said.  Arella cocked her head to the side.  “But Terry said you’re almost 200 years old.”

              “Yeah,” Azar said looking at her, “I’m not that old.”  She and Arella broke out in a fit of giggles.  “Azar,” Arella said worriedly, “have I offended you in some way?”

              “No, child.  Why would you think that?” Azar asked in confusion.

              “You haven’t spoken to me these past 2 weeks,” Arella’s eyes swam with unshed tears.  “If I did anything to you…”

              “Honey, no,” Azar squatted in front of Arella and took her face in her hands.  “I did not mean to make you feel that way.”  Azar paused with a sigh.  “There is something I need to tell you,” she said, “but I would rather we do this somewhere else.  This bean bag chair is uncomfortable, and I am not as young as I used to be,” she said with a small smile.

              Arella sat on her bed, her arms hugging her belly, lips slightly parted in horror.  “Azar, are you sure?” she asked in a small voice. 

              Azar nodded, standing a few feet away.  “I am absolutely sure.”

              “And the only way to survive is to keep the baby away from me?  You want to take my baby away from me?” Arella asked in tears.

              “No, child,” Azar rushed to her side before taking Arella’s hands in hers.  “You’ll be able to breastfeed him.”

              “But only if I am wearing a full-faced mask.”

              “You’ll be able to watch his growth from afar.”  Arella released a sob.  “And once he has enough emotional control, you’ll be able to meet him.”

              “Well how long with that take?” Arella cried.

              “I do not know, sweetie,” Azar said sitting beside her on the bed, gently rubbing circles on her back.

              “So, there’s a chance I will never get to see my child face-to-face,” she cried, “because we’ll all be dead.”

              “We don’t know that,” Azar comforted her.

              “I didn’t ask for any of this,” Arella sobbed.  “I didn’t ask for this,” she leaned into Azar’s shoulder and released a torrent of tears as Azar held her close and rocked her, softly humming.

              A couple of hours later, after she had run out of tears and taken a nap against Azar, Arella looked up at Azar’s kind face.  Something had just occurred to her.  “You referred to my baby as a he.  What makes you think it’s a he?” Arella asked curiously.

              “It is just an educated guess.  Trigon has only ever given birth to boys.”  Arella nodded, seeming to accept that answer.  Azar didn’t want to tell her that the reason was because no daughter of Trigon’s had ever survived infancy.  Arella didn’t need the extra stress.  After a moment, Arella moved away from Azar.  “Sorry for crying all over you and falling asleep on you,” Arella said, a slight blush coming to her face.

              “It’s fine,” Azar said.  “I just wish I could do more.”  Arella nodded, as she moved to stand from the bed.  Before she could take one step, she buckled over and let out a scream.  “Aahhh!”

              “Child, what is it?”

              “I don’t know,” Arella said through the tears.  She then began to…pee?  What the…?  She looked down to see herself standing in a puddle of water.  “Oh my,” Arella said as both she and Azar realized that her water just broke. 

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              Azar and the elders waited in the hall as the healers assisted Arella in the delivery.  But with all of the screaming…Azar wasn’t sure Arella was going to make it.  There had been other births on Azarath.  Many. They weren’t all celibate.  No birth had ever been this bad.  Sure, there was the yelling, an occasional scream, but the labors usually only lasted about 2 hours and no more than 6 healers had ever been used.  Arella's labor was approaching hour 15, and there were at least a dozen healers in the room with her.  “It sounds like she’s dying in there,” Cicero said, nervously biting his thumb.  Even Alec looked concern. 

              The door to the room opened as a healer stepped out, the screaming getting louder.  Azar approached the healer but froze when she saw the amount of blood covering the healer’s gloved hands and clothes.  “What on Earth is happening in there?” Azar asked.

              “No time to explain.  It’s too late to send for a blood bag, but we need to start a transfusion.”

              “But she is human,” Hadriana said, “none of us are compatible.”

              “Not exactly,” the healer continued.  “On Earth, the universal red blood cell type is O negative.  It is the equivalent of our S blood type.  And I believe one of you is type S.”  Alec stepped forward. 

              “Alec? Really?” Alba asked in disbelief.  “Do we really want to put this girl’s life in Alec’s hands?”

              “We don’t have a choice,” the healer answered before Azar could respond.  “Please come with me, sir.”  Alec followed the healer into the room, shutting the door behind them without a backward glance.

              Another hour passed, and just when Azar had reached her wits-end, the room grew silent save for the cries of a baby.  Azar and the 3 elders rushed into Azar’s room - which was currently serving as a birthing chamber.  Arella was hugging the baby close to her chest, staring down at it lovely.  “I know you said not to look at her without a mask, but I just wanted to look at her one time before…” Arella's voice trailed off.

              “Her?” Azar looked at one of the healers questioningly.  The healer gave a definitive nod as she began to clean up.  “She gave birth to a girl,” another healer spoke.

              “And she looks…normal?” Azar asked.  The healer nodded.  “She's not red?” Azar asked as she slowly approached the bed where the exhausted young mother sat staring lovingly at the baby whose cries and tears had subsided. 

              “Please don’t take her from me yet,” Arella pleaded with Azar, tears flowing down her cheek. 

              Azar just smiled.  “What are going to call her?” she asked Arella. 

              Arella blinked once.  Then twice.  “I was so caught up with everything else, I hadn’t thought of one.”

              “It’s okay,” Azar said, “you have time.”  Arella nodded before looking down at her daughter who was fast asleep. 

              “This may change things,” Alec whispered to Azar once he had been patched up.  He stared looking down at both the baby and Arella.  “We should talk somewhere privately,” he said.

              A healer walked up to Arella and attempted to take the baby.  “No,” Arella protested, holding her daughter close to her chest. 

              “I was just going to put her in the crib,” the healer said, “you need to rest.”

              “It’s okay, Arella,” Azar said.  “We’re not going to separate you tonight.”  Arella nodded thankfully before gently handing her daughter over to the healer.  “I will return shortly,” Azar said placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.  Arella watched as her daughter was placed in a crib next to the bedside. 

              “We will return to wake you when it is time to breastfeed,” the healer said.  Arella nodded as she slumped down to the side of the bed that had not been used in the birth of her daughter.  (Azar’s bed was the size of two king-sized beds.  And the mattresses were made from the softest fabric Arella had ever felt.  This place was amazing.)   Minutes after everyone had cleared the room, Arella lay awake.  She stared at her daughter’s tiny body, sleeping in her tiny crib. Arella didn’t know much about babies, but her daughter had the darkest hair she’d ever seen.  Blacker than the night sky.  Darker than her own.  It reminded her of the feathers on ravens.  Raven.  “Goodnight, my precious Raven,” Arella whispered before closing her eyes.

              Arella and the four elders stood on a balcony, staring out at the stars and moons glistening in the night sky.  “Well, this is unexpected,” Cicero said, breaking the silence.

              “Strange,” Alec said staring off into the distance, “I always knew what giving birth was like in theory, but watching it unfold before my eyes…”

              “Was it beautiful?” Cicero asked.

              “No, it was gross,” Alec scrunched his face in disgust as Alba and Hadriana held in laughs.  “There was blood everywhere, along with other body fluids.  And she was in so much pain.  And when they pulled the baby out, I did not know what it was.  It was covered in an icky substance.  I didn’t realize it was a baby until they cleaned her off.”

              “Sounds…crazy,” Cicero said.  “Did you vomit?”

              “Three times,” Alec said.  “Not my proudest moment.  There was a child on the bed giving birth to a child, and there I was throwing up as if I were the one in pain.  I am so ashamed of myself.”

              “My husband threw up the first time he went into the birthing chamber with me,” Hadriana said with a smile.

              “But back to the subject at hand,” Alba said, “a girl?”

              “It is definitely unexpected,” Cicero said.

              “Maybe the seers were mistaken?” Hadriana asked.  “It’s happened before.”

              “We may not have to take any precautions,” Alec shrugged.  “A daughter of Trigon’s has never survived the first six weeks.”

              “Well, I am definitely not going to tell Arella that,” Azar said.

              “I am not saying you should,” Alec continued, “I’m saying we should do nothing.  If the girl survives the first six weeks, we slowly begin to wean her from Arella.  If she survives a year, we start training immediately.”

              “But her emotions…” Hadriana said.

              “Trigon can’t use a baby to open a portal.  A baby isn’t strong enough,” Alba said.  “And Alec, your opinion on the matter has certainly changed from this morning.  I think this is the first time I ever heard you use Arella’s name.” 

              Alec shrugged his shoulders.  “Watching a 16-year-old girl go through 16 hours of labor can change you,” Alec said as his gray eyes widened in shock.

              Azar turned to stare at the two moons in the sky.  A baby girl, she thought, this may get interesting.

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              Raven spent the first 6 weeks of her life being cared for by her mother.  The rest of the year was spent slowly severing the bond between mother and daughter.  Raven’s first birthday was the last day mother and daughter saw each other.  But by then, Raven didn’t even recognize Arella as her mother.  Arella was just another stranger who existed in her life.  Raven spent the next two years of her life surrounded by adults wearing white full-faced masks.  Her powers didn’t appear until her third birthday.  By age 5, Raven was surrounded by adults who no longer wore masks around her as her emotions were fully suppressed, and she no longer blew things up…as long as she wasn’t startled.  And on her 7^th birthday, Raven was finally allowed to see her mother face-to-face.  Until now, Raven had only seen her mother’s face in photographs. From Raven’s point-of-view, she was meeting a stranger for the first time, but Arella had been waiting for this day for years.  And the day was finally here.  She would finally be able to meet her daughter and take her home.

              Arella stared lovingly at her baby girl, now seven years old.  She had chin length, purple hair, and vibrant purple eyes.  She stood in a leotard and cape and little boots. And she had the chubbiest cheeks.  She was the cutest, most adorable child Arella had ever laid eyes on.  And Arella didn’t even like kids.  But looking at the miniature version of herself standing stiffly on the temple steps, Arella couldn’t help but be filled with love for her daughter.  “Hi,” Arella spoke first, trying to hold back tears.  A blink was the only response given.  

              Azar stepped forward and said, “Raven, there is a festival taking place in the square right now.  Why don’t you and your mother attend it?”  Raven nodded once before taking off in the direction of the town.  Arella followed close behind.

              Mother and daughter walked side-by-side silently in the busy, loud square.  “How is your training?” Arella asked, trying to start a conversation with her daughter for the umpteenth time in the last three hours.

              “My training is going well. My tutors say I am progressing faster than the other children in my age group.”

              “That is good,” Arella beamed.

              “Azar finds my performance to be acceptable.  She says my control is excellent and is to be commended.”

              “I am glad.”  Another moment awkward silence overtook mother and daughter, but only for a moment.  Raven spoke first this time.  “Arella, I mean, mother,” she said rather stiffly.  “Azar says that you are not from here.  You are from a different planet.  Earth.”

              “Yes,” Arella said.  “From a place called Gotham.”

              “What was it like?” Raven asked, not sounding eager to hear about it.  “Does it resemble Azarath?”

              “No,” Arella said with a chuckle.  “No.  No.  No.  Gotham is a dreary, depressing place, filled with crime.  Crime is everywhere.”

              “Gotham has no peacekeepers?”

              “Yes.  They are called police, or cops.  And a lot of them are dirty.”

              “They do not bathe?” Raven sounded genuinely horrified.

              “No,” Arella said covering a laugh.  “It means, they secretly take bribes from criminals.” 

              Raven nodded in understanding.  “Is that why you came to Azerath?” Raven asked.

              “Um…that is a long, complicated story.  I am not sure you are old enough to hear it.”

              “Lord Alec says I am very mature for my age and can comprehend many things most children cannot.”

              “I know,” Arella said.  “But maybe another time.”  Raven shrugged, completely unaffected by the answer.  She then stopped, placing a small hand to her head.  “Are you okay?” Arella turned to her daughter in worry.

              “Everyone’s emotions and thoughts…they are very loud.  I am getting a headache.” 

              Arella looked around for a place to escape.  “There’s a hill over there,” she pointed, “away from everyone.  Want to sit up there?”

              “Please,” Raven responded as she and her mother walked over there. 

              Once they reached the top, they both sat down and stared out at the city as twilight began to set in.  “Is this okay?” Arella asked. 

              Raven nodded.  “Yes.  This is much better, thank you.”  After another few minutes of silence, Raven asked, “Does Earth also have two moons?”

              “No, just the one.”

              “It must be really dark there,” Raven stated.

              “Oh, Earth is well lit.  There are places that are dark, but most streets have lights outside.”

              “Did you attend festivals like this one on Earth?”

              “No,” Arella shook her head.  “Though, I did attend a carnival.”

              “A what?” Raven asked.  Arella then spent the next two hours describing carnivals and amusement parks to her daughter.  After explaining roller coasters and swings, Arella said, “But I really miss the cotton candy.”

              “Cotton candy?”

              “It’s sugar in the shape of clouds, and it melts in your mouth.  I really wish I could show you.”

              “Maybe one day I will be able to try this…cotton candy,” Raven said.

              “Maybe,” Arella gave her daughter smile of adoration.  “I really hope so.”

Chapter Text

              Two weeks after the festival, Raven moved into her mother’s apartments, which located in the temple.  It was uncomfortable and awkward.  But after a few months, Arella and Raven were able to fall into a sort of rhythm.  Raven would wake up, have tea, and eat breakfast with her mom.  Sometimes Azar joined them.  Raven would then leave to train or study with her teachers.  She would then come home, have lunch with her mother, return to her teachers to train and study some more.  She would then have dinner with Arella, train and study, return home where a cup of tea and a book were usually waiting.  One day, during breakfast, Raven asked Arella where she was getting these books.  The books Arella was giving her weren’t in any of the libraries in Azarth.  Arella said Azar would sometimes open a portal to Earth and they would visit a bookstore.  A detached “Okay” was all Arella received in response. 

              By age 9, mother and daughter were beginning to act more like mother and daughter, even though Raven was mental state well beyond her years. 

              One night, Arella grew thirsty and wanted water.  As she walked to the kitchen, she passed the balcony where she saw Raven just staring out into the distance.  Arella quickly made 2 cups of tea and joined her daughter outside on the balcony.  Neither one spoke.  They sat in silence until the sun came up.  It became their thing to do at least once a week.  Arella would make 2 cups of tea, and then she and Raven would sit and watch the sunrise. 

              At age 11, Raven finally learned the truth of her existence.  One day, when Azar decided to join them for breakfast, Raven shocked both women by asking a question they had hoped to avoid.  “Who’s my father?” Raven asked out of nowhere.  Azar froze, and Arella choked on the water she’d been drinking. 

              “Why are you suddenly interested in your father, Raven?” Azar asked carefully while Arella picked at her food sullenly.  Raven shrugged.  “I’m just trying to understand why I am, how I am?  I have more control over my powers, but I am still not allowed to go to school with other children my age.  Also, why are my powers different from everybody else’s?”

              “Raven, you are an empath, too,” Azar said.

              “Yeah,” Raven said, “But Arell – I mean, my mom isn’t.  She’s human.  She has no powers. That means I must have inherited my powers from my father, but nobody will tell me who his is.  I train all of the time; when I go out, I have to completely cover my face so no one can recognize me; I have no friends.  I just want to know who my dad is and understand why he isn’t here?  I can sense both of your emotions, and I know both of you are hiding something from me.  What is it?”  Raven finished her tirade completely out of breath.  Both women were surprised.  They had never seen Raven show ANY type of emotion before.  And Azar was pleasantly surprised that she managed to do it without blowing things up.  “Raven,” Azar began.

              “No,” Arella interrupted her.  “Let me tell her.”  Azar nodded before leaving the two alone.

              After a few minutes of silence, Arella began to speak.  She told Raven everything.  She told her about her life in Gotham.  How she didn’t know who her parents were; how she was betrayed by friends; how Raven was conceived; everything.  Raven stared silently down at her plate once her mother finished.  “I’m a monster,” Raven said looking up at her mother.

              “No honey, you’re not,” she said grasping her daughter’s hands. “You are not a monster.”

              “I’m destined to destroy Azarath and the Earth,” a single tear ran down Raven’s cheek, and yet, Arella couldn’t disagree with that statement.

              “Raven,” Arella began.  “I know what the seers said, I know what Azar says; but I want you to listen to me.  Your future is not set in stone.”

              “Do you honestly believe that I am not destined to destroy planets?” Raven asked.  “Do you honestly believe that?”  Arella hesitated.  She didn’t know what to believe.  “I don’t know what to believe, Raven.  But I will tell you what I know.  I know that everyone expected me to give birth to a boy.  And the odds of you being a boy were very high.  But, instead of the boy everyone expected, I gave birth to a beautiful girl.  I also know that no daughter of Trigon’s has ever survived infancy.  Yet here you are, almost 12 years old.  You’ve surprised everyone at every turn.  You’ve proved the elders wrong.  You are proof that nothing is ever set in stone.  I don’t know if Azarath and Earth will be destroyed.  But I do know that you are an anomaly.  No one was expecting you.  You really are special Raven.” Arella caressed her daughter’s small hands with her own. “Raven, never give up hope.  Azarathian scholars have deduced that there may be infinite universes.  That means there are an infinite number of outcomes the seers probably have yet to seen.  You’re not a destroyer of worlds.  You are not what your ‘father’ wants you to be.  It may not feel like you have a choice, but you do.  Just...have hope. Always choose hope.”

Chapter Text

              At age 12, while the elders and Arella clenched their teeth and bit their nails, awaiting the inevitable, Raven was learning about portals.  How to create them; how to close them.  She had already perfected her teleportation skills.  Teleportation was easy for her.  Azar said she was a natural.  But portals were a fickle thing.  Under no circumstances was she allowed to practice on her own.  Azar was the only other person on Azarath who could create them; therefore, Azar had to always be present when she practiced creating portal.  In other words, if Azar wasn’t around, Raven was not allowed to make portals. 

              It was a week before Raven would turn 13.  The elders and her mother were beginning to relax.  (Maybe the seers had been wrong; it has happened before.)  And today, a week before her 13^th birthday, Azar had decided to join her mother and her for dinner.  After dinner, the two adults began talking about something Raven really didn’t care about.  She decided to read in her bedroom, give the adults time talk. 

              She began reading, but soon grew bored.  So, while Arella and Azar were chatting downstairs, Raven sat on the floor her room and began doing the one thing she was not supposed to do.  She began practicing her portals, drawing symbols on the floor.  She had been practicing for a year, and she had yet to lose control of one.  She didn’t understand why Azar was so against her practicing on her own.  She was fine.  She knew was she was doing, and to prove it, she was going to create a bigger portal.  It would be the biggest one she had ever created.  She rubbed her hands together and began.  A few minutes later she had done it.  She had created her biggest portal yet.  She was so proud of herself, but now, it was time to close it.  She didn’t want to be caught by Azar.  So, she tried to close it.  Nothing happened.  She tried to close it again, but it wouldn’t close.  She concentrated harder, but the portal just grew in circumference. 

              Now she was panicking.  She said the words Azar had taught her to say, “Azarath Metrion Zinthos.”  Nothing happened.  If anything, it grew bigger.  She needed to get Azar, but she didn’t move.  There was something in the portal, something moving.  She leaned forward to get a closer look.  Four glowing red eyes stared right back at her, making her do something she had never done before.  She screamed, alerting her mother and Azar.  “Raven!” she heard her mother call from downstairs.  Raven slowly backed up as a giant, red arm came out of the portal, followed by another arm.  Azar and Arella reached Raven’s room completely out of breath.  They stared in shock and horror as this red…being rose from Raven’s floor.  “Raven, what did you do?” Arella cried out.

              “I’m sorry, Mom,” Raven cried out releasing all of her emotions.  “I’m sorry.” Soon the being’s upper torso was completely sticking out of Raven’s floor.  He slowly pulled himself up, not breaking eye contact with Raven.  While Azar and Arella were screaming at Raven to come to them, Raven stood staring at the giant red demon in shock with tears running down her face.  She was too scared to move. 

              The being smiled the most horrific smile Raven had ever seen. “Thank you, daughter,” it said.  Raven’s eyes widened in horror as she realized what she had done, and her little body began to shake.  She looked at her mom through watery eyes, mentally begging her for forgiveness.  Arella must have understood, because she slowly nodded as Trigon began laughing, causing Raven to cover her ears with her hands.  But she was still able to hear her father’s sickening laugh, along with the screams of the Azarathians, also sensing their fears.  It was overwhelming, and Raven doubled over in pain, placing her hands on her head.  She couldn’t stand the pain.  She was going to pass out.

              Arella and Azar stayed where they were, staring up at Trigon.  Arella than saw her daughter huddled up in the corner.  “Raven!” she screamed.  “Raven!” But nothing could be heard over Trigon’s vicious laughter.  She mentally willed her daughter to look at her.  She looked up at Trigon and saw his eyes began to glow.  This was the end.  This was her end.  Arella quickly used sign language to say I love you.  The last thing Arella ever saw was her daughter sign back Mom.  And then, she was gone.

              Once Raven was able to coax herself out of her corner, an hour after the screams of Azarathians had stopped, she slowly stood to her feet to survey the damage done.  What she saw was horrific.  The building that was once her home was decimated.  She looked around.  Every building had been destroyed.  The once bright city of Azarath now looked gray and dreary.  Smoke rose from the ground and ash rained down slowly. 

              After flying to the ground, as the stairs in her house no longer existed, she began to walk among the ruins.  She hiccupped with every sob as she saw bodies everywhere.  Young, old.  No one had survived Trigon’s wrath.  Raven slowly walked, taking in the dead eyes of the Azarathians around her.  It was as if they were made of stone or something.  Some of them still had their mouths opened in a scream. 

             Raven stopped walking and looked around.  What had she done?  “They were always destined to die,” she heard this deep, demonic voice in her head.  She covered her ears, willing the voice to leave her head.  “I’m right here,” the voice said from behind her.  She whirled around to see a 7-foot red being with four eyes, horns on his head, and sadistic smile on his face staring at her.  He had shrunk himself down.  He slowly began to approach her.  Whether or not she was shaking from anger or fear or shock, she did not know.  But she was shaking.  Also, she couldn’t believe this ugly being had fathered her.  “There’s something different about you,” the being, her father, said.  “No daughter of mine has ever survived infancy.  What’s so special about you?” he leaned down for a closer inspection. 

              As soon as he was within reach, Raven threw a punch at him with all her might.  It did nothing but possibly break her hand. She settled for glaring at him while cradling her injured hand.  Trigon just threw his head back and laughed.  “You’re a fighter.  That’s what makes you different.  Not even your half-brothers would dare glare at me.  It makes you both fearless and dangerous.  I like that,” his smile grew disturbingly bigger. “Come with me, and I can make you the most powerful person in the universe.”  He turned to walk away.

              “No,” he heard his daughter say, “I’m not going anywhere with you.”  Trigon froze.  No!  Only one person had ever said no to him.  This girl was just as strong-willed as the other person who had said ‘no’ to him - her mother.  Well, she would be.  Any other time, he would have laughed and maybe even applaud her courage.  But he didn’t have time.  Constantine and the Zataras had set up so many wards around Earth, none of his ships could penetrate it.  And his powers were useless.  She was the only one who could get him into Earth.  None of his sons would blend in there, but she looked like the rest of the Earthlings.  Meaning, he needed her alive.  Trigon teleported and landed right in front of her, grabbing her arm in one of his hands and squeezing.  He didn’t stop until he heard a satisfying, sickening crunch.  She bit her lip to keep from screaming out in pain. He released her and growled, “Don’t ever say ‘no’ to me again.  You do as I say.  My commands are not options.  They are not up for debate or discussion.  When I tell you to do something, you do it.”  The girl nodded with fear in her eyes.  He turned and began to walk to where a portal had opened.  He sensed her follow.

              Raven followed her father, silently forcing her tears to go away, breathing through the pain of her shattered arm.  She would obey him for now, learn from him, and do his bidding.  But when the time came, she was going to kill him.  And he would never do to another planet what he did to Azarath.  She was going to protect Earth no matter the cost.  The rage in her grew.  Trigon was going to die.  Raven clenched the fist of her good hand.  She was going to kill him.  Starting now, Trigon’s days were numbered; and he would not survive her wrath.  Of that, Raven was sure.