Chapter 1

Raven

Raven dreams of fire, and it follows her into the world. Roaring red flames consume everything in a five foot radius. Instead of heat, the flames spread the frosty cold rage of her father.

A simple swipe of her hand and the flames snuff out. Trails of gray smoke curl toward the high ceiling. The floor is marred but it doesn't matter. This abandoned theater she has taken temporary refuge in has done its duty and sheltered her for the day.

Raven picks up her cloak she was using as a pillow and shakes it off before swinging it over her shoulder. The heavy garment is fashioned in the style of Azarath. She's not sentimental by any means, but when she wears it, it helps her remember what she's working to stop.

For now, Trigon can do nothing more than torment her while she sleeps. Unfortunately, if what he says is true, others will come for her. If he can't scare her back he will have her bought by force. Trigon is not one for idle threats.

No matter. If tonight goes as planned, he'll never be able to reach her again. Not even in her dreams.

"Conquer your own worlds," she says aloud. "I'm done doing it for you."

The Sun City museum is nothing special. Its rather small and very unpopular with the locals and tourists. You will fin nothing here you havent seen anywhere else, except for one thing.

It has taken weeks for Raven to track the artifact down. Chasing one lead to another before one woman final confirmed she sold the artifact to the curator of this museum.

The museum will be open for another hour and all of two other people are present. In an effort to blend in, Raven takes off her cloak and drapes it over her arm. She also takes the extra effort of making her eyes flush away their demon red in exchange for semi-human amethyst.

Thirty minutes pass and Raven has scoured every display and every damned information center. If the artifact is not on display then it's in a vault.

Three options. One: go looking for the vault after closing, threaten a guard or two, minimal damage. Two: find vault right now, get in and out before watchers call authorities. Three: give in to her father's demands.

Soon after closing, she reaches out with her senses and pinpoints the location of the four people inside.

She debates the pros and cons of teleporting inside. It's taken her weeks to track the item here and she has been careful not to use any abilities that can identify her to the authorities.

She had a slight disagreement with the Justice League. Best they don't connect her to the excursions she's been on.

Raven pulls up her hood and grins, fully aware that she maybe shouldn't enjoy this. The anticipation makes her red eyes glow.

With a predatory snarl, she steps on the glass of the sun roof and shatters it, flying down with the glass. Two men are posted in this front room.

"My God," one of them says.

"What the hell is that?"

Raven can only imagine what she must look like. The cloak conseals her entire form so all they see are red eyes under a hood.

Fear and shock rolls off of them and she inhales it, relishing. Her finger nails turn to talons with her say so and extending a single hand she knocks them back into the wall, knocking them unconscious. Maybe killing them.

She follows the life force of another deep inside and thus finds the location of the vault. She immobilizes the woman there.

The lights above them flicker and spark out with energy Raven sends their way. The woman doesn't say a word, probably in shock.

"Open it," Raven growls.

The woman nods. Raven releases her and with a shaking hand she swipes her card and punches in a code. The door groans open and Raven steps inside.

The woman flees but Raven pays her no mind. The woman didn't see her face and she'll be long gone before back up arrives.

Inside the vault are all of seven glass shelves loaded with valuables Raven doesn't care for. She ignores everything that doesn't sparkle.

Thirteen jewels. Three are red. None are the one she wants.

A few of the items shatter with her anger. She steps out of the vault crunching on glass. She strides down the hall and everything that can shatter does.

The curator knows she's coming before she reaches his office. The windows rattle and the air crackles.

He tries to run, he doesn't get anywhere but pinned against the wall by a seething wall of black energy.

Air stirs and drops Raven's hood. It doesn't make her any less terrifying. "Three weeks ago you bought an artifact unearthed in the Egyptian deserts. Where is it?"

"Wha--what? Oh, no. P--p--please don't hurt me!"

Raven marginally tightens the black energy around him. "Focus," she says in a monotone voice at odds with her blazing red eyes. "Where is the stone? The red stone."

"I sold it!"

She squeezes again and something pops.

"Ah!" He sobs. "I paid a lot for that stone, it had a lot of stories around it. My experts told me it was worthless. It wasn't even a ruby like I was told!"

"Who was the buyer?"

"I don't remember. Please, please, please. I don't remember!"

Sirens blare outside.

"Don't kill me," he pleads.

Raven growls. She'll have to dive into his mind to find the information she wants.

"Think back to that day," she commands. It will be easier to find at least. Human minds are always a jumbled mess.

Before she can do anything but command him, the door flies open. In a split second she decides there's no time.

A simple thought and she snaps his neck.

"Don't move!" One of the cops shouts.

She doesn't turn to see how many. Instead she jumps out the third story window. One of them shoots at her.

For three whole seconds, she forgets to fly. She slows her fall at the very end but lands heavy on her right leg. She swears she hears the bone snap. The pain contends.

Gritting her teeth she flies up, well out of sight before teleporting to the only place she can think of. Back to the theater she nearly burned down.

"Temporary home," she mutters.

Parting her cloak, Raven leans down to get a look at her ankle. It hasn't started swelling yet and nothing looks obviously out of place. Maybe just a fracture.

Steeling herself, she leans against a wall and slides down with her ankle carefully outstretched to not get jostled. Once she's settled she puts a hand on either side of her ankle and closes her eyes, identifying the injury and healing it.

The healing hurts more than fracturing it did, mostly because healing takes longer. She's endured far worse though. After five years in her father's realm this is nothing.

"This is a mess," she says to herself.

The cops will be all over the museum now and she still has no name. The curator had to have kept records but she'll need to get in and out without being seen which means going in broad daylight.

Humans always think nothing bad happens during the day. They think the sun can scare away monsters. How wrong they are.