Demons (Damirae)

Chapter Seventy-Two

The would-be battlefield, that was the street in front of the Hall of Justice, was frozen. Crickets almost chirped and that wind of dramatic silence ruffled through the locks of Light Elves, magicians, aliens and the likes. For five seconds the weighty pause held only the sound of helicopters whirring and tanks grinding to a halt.

Then the Elvish Lord, the Ringmaster, Aaroniv Aleifath, raised a withered, weary hand. A warm, golden glow encased it before he returned his arm humbly to his side. Recognising the signal, the hundreds behind him obeyed the order, summoning portals and utilising magical transportation devices, deserting the not-battle. The other two Ringmasters, the Elf and the Mage, made no opposition as groups disappeared through luminous vortexes and in single, blinding beams.

There would be no conflict between the two forces today- for that, Raven was thankful: she'd felt the Dark ones stirring in the alleyways and around corners. Such a mass of Light creatures was an enormous threat, of herself and Damian hadn't passed on the message to their contacts regarding the Light, there would surely have been a bloodbath: that message being, 'Pride, Wrath and the Al-Ghul are dealing with the Council, don't interfere or they'll deal with you', to paraphrase; it certainly struck dread in the hearts of those drowning those lust in Elvish wine at the Blue Dragon.

Speaking of which, whilst the Justice League (and handful of Titans...and Adyn) and three Council Ringmasters dealt with the ego of one Amanda Waller, their were others immersed in their own circumstances.
Cassandra, for one, was working her way through the notes collected by Batman about Alexander Fletcher Sumpter (the face-shifter and suspect in her own case) and figuring out where he stood. She'd been approached a few weeks back about a case of a stolen object. Damian and Cassandra had uncovered its true origin- a magical artefact- and had traced all leads to this face-shifter. It just so happened that Bruce had gotten to him first on a different case, one also to do with magic- the Orphan hadn't even known that he possessed any magical abilities until she read through Bruce's notes. A perplexity indeed.

All else was relatively quiet in the Manor (not that Cass made much noise at all): Jaime was video calling his family in his room; Donna was texting a new friend of hers from school- apparently there was a house party later that week-; Koriand'r was eating ice cream with pickles and jam; and Selina and Harleen were sharing stories with Belladonna about her mother's adventures.

"Ooh- ooh! And there was this one time when ya mutha was so mad she tried to kill ya fatha, but then one thing led to anotha and BAM you happened!", Harley enthused, falling back on to the bed with a sigh. "Ah, how romantic!"

The little girl giggled, playing with Selina's hair, "You're funny Aunty H!"

Harleen propped herself up on her bed with on elbow, winking, "Ain't that the truth pumpkin!"

Selina, perched on the bed with Bella in her lap, gasped, "And I'm not funny too?", she turned the girl around to face her. "I'm so sad now, you like Aunty H more than me.", Selina pretended to cry, holding back laughter when Bella pulled her hands away from her face and gave Selina a hug.

"There, there,", Bella imitated the grown-ups she'd seen on TV, "it's okay, I love you both, don't be sad.", her grass-green eyes sparkled, "I can draw you a pretty picture, Raven says my drawing are good- do you want to see?!", the little girl hopped up, flicking her heels as she ran out of her 'Aunty H's' room to retrieve her drawings, her dark curls flying in the process.

Meanwhile, miles away, beyond the greedy streets of Gotham's commercial areas, lay the darkest recesses of the city- crawling with the Dark and dangerous. Between neon nightclubs, burlesque bars and crimson casinos lay many buildings ranging from ramshackle to filthy rich. Within one such building, two people lay on a modest sofa together.