Demons (Damirae)

Chapter Seventy-Nine

That night, before Damian was set to patrol with Batgirl, he and Raven had set out to see what ground they could cover in terms of finding this person Mr Leiwandowsky was after. Raven had opened the black, pebble-like information storing device and the two of them had studied the data. The subject they were after was a hybrid, roughly two hundred years old. Male. A half-gargoyle, half-Mage (dark). Most importantly, Mr Leiwandowsky's son.

It had come to the gargoyle in a letter, poster to his in-city business office. The knowledge that he had a son. The writing was a swirling script and each character was as elaborate as its writer. A copy of the letter presented itself like a hologram, flashing in to their air along with the rest of the information when the magical black disk was activated. The letter told of a son the Polish gargoyle never knew of, conceived and borne away from the cynical eye of preternatural high society. It was signed Evaana Draczka, a name that Mr Leiwandowsky knew all too well.

His old love.

Their passion flared in the faces of the Dark aristocrats and laughed at the disapproval of interspecies love. Two noble houses could've joined under their names, but she left. When Mr Leiwandowsky was young (only a few hundred years old) and their romance had barely been a decade, Evaana disappeared.

He never loved another again.

A classic, almost cliché tale, but a true one.

On her death bed, Evaana had written to him, told him what he'd always wanted to know. Why. Why she abandoned him.

Their son, Dorian, had been out of her life for a few years, but she implored her old lover to seek him out. Get to know the son he never had.

This was Damian and Raven's mission. Find Dorian Draczka- rather, Dorian Leiwandowsky. They wouldn't need to speak with him, only summon his father. That was as far as they were needed.

The part-demons started at the old residents of Evaana Drackza. After an hour of scouring the quaint little house in the north, they'd come to the realisation that nothing here could lead them to the man. Stepping back through a portal and in to the corridor outside their rooms (in Wayne Manor) both Damian and Raven accepted that it was a dead lead. They would move on to the next one tomorrow.

For now, Damian was due to wander around Gotham with Fatgirl looking for crime and trying to tune out her annoyingness. Yay. What fun.

***

The next day, school couldn't pass any slower. Maths- slow. Chemistry- too confusing. Dance- what the hell did the teacher mean 'use your salsa hips!'?, Jonathan's hips couldn't move like that to save his life! English- Jonathan almost rammed his head in to the table. History- too many dates...so...many...numbers...

The only bright side to the excruciatingly elongated day was seeing Donna. Jonathan caught glimpses of her glancing at him during lessons or in the corridors, pushing up his glances every theme she looked his way. He caught two girls (one silvery-haired, the other with short black hair) talking about it whilst he walked along. "It's a classic, Olive,", the one with dark hair sighed, "just look at their ears and cheeks."

"It's cute,", the other (presumably Olive) replied, nudging her, "Sooo...anyone for you?", Olive grinned as her friend scrunched up her nose, "Go oooon...you can't tell me that you, the ever observant Maps, haven't been investigating ANY guys!"

Jonathan didn't here the rest of their conversation, speed-walking through the corridor and to his locker, grabbing his jacket. Fast forwards past the journey back to the Manor, Jonathan was given orders by Mr Pennyworth that he had 'precisely one hour and thirty-three minutes, Jon m'boy, before you must prepare for the Valentine's Gala'.