Legacy

Court of Owls Pt. 4

Lincoln: You're making me look bad, Y/N. After all, I took one knife...and you took two and got kicked out a thirty-story window. But I'm the guy in bed, eating jello in a buttless nightgown. Good thing you aren't running against me.

Y/N: Actually, Lincoln, I am. That's what I came to tell you.

Lincoln: Heh <Koff koff> Don't make me laugh.

You stood over the bed of Lincoln March at Gotham's General Hospital. The day had just started but you had finished your spar with Cassandra so you decided to swing by and pay the future mayor a visit.

Y/N: Actually, I wanted to speak to you privately. Just before the attacker came in, you were talking about something bad having returned to Gotham.

Lincoln: Yes.

Ok, so this wasn't a courtesy visit. You needed answers. He had them.

Lincoln: I'd been getting warnings, Y/N. Whispers from people to drop my bid for mayor. And then, two weeks ago, I woke to find an owl in my apartment. Just perched there in my closet. A little pile of bones beneath it.

That wasn't ominous at all.

Lincoln: Still, I didn't really believe it was them behind the threats. That it could be them. But it scared me enough that I asked my friends at the GCPD to keep a bead on anything related. So when the report came in about you being targeted by them, too...about how that man left you a message...that John Doe killed by the Talon...

Y/N: The verdict on who killed that man is still out.

Lincoln looked at you as you turned toward the window.

Lincoln: Beware the Court of Owls, YN, that watches all the time. Ruling Gotham from the shadowed perch, behind granite and lime. They see you at your hearth. And they watch you in your bed. Speak not a whispered word of them, or they'll send the Talon...

Y/N: I've been hearing that old ryhme a lot lately, Mr. March. Frankly, I'm getting tired of it. Now if there really was a Court of Owls, don't you think, with my roots in this city, I'd have learned they were real long ago?

Lincoln: Unless...

You turned back to him.

Y/N: Unless what?

Lincoln: Unless they didn't want you to. Until now. Maybe this new Gotham Initiative of yours, reshaping the city, maybe they're just now paying attention to you, too. Same with me.

You looked at him for a moment before you turned back to the window.

Y/N: I'm not afraid of ghost stories, Mr. March.

You watched as an Owl flew away from the balcony. A stray feather fell to the ground.

Y/N: Let them come. I know legends. I know them better than anyone could ever know.
----------
You wondered through the dark sewers below Gotham with only a glow stick to light the way. It was a powerful glowstick that you had found in your belt.

Alan Wayne was behind the construction of some of Gotham's tallest towers. His naked body was discovered here, beneath the city, in the sewers. The corpse had been down here so long that Alan had to be identified by fillings in his teeth.

A nightmarish end for a man who spent so much time building Gotham up, to drown in its sewage. The dirty blood of the city he helped build.

There are worse ways to go, though.

Like the way he actually went. You had Alfred play grave robber and dig up his body. You had discovered tiny punctures, not unlike stab wounds, in his bones. A lot of his bones, too. Which is to say he was stabbed to death, most likely by throwing knives. Almost fifty of them.

However, you found something else. A residue. Dust from a metamorphic rock. Not unlike marble. Strange, given that the sewer system is constructed almost entirely out of grantite. As you looked at the black smudges on the wall, you knew you had found the right place. But that's Gotham. Never ceases to amaze you.

Or surpise you.

Y/N: You can come out now.

From the darkness, came the same man who tried to kill you only two days before. You turned around to face the Talon who was standing, motionless.

Y/N: You're here to finish the job.

Talon: The Court of Owls has sentenced you to die.

Y/N: And that tells me that I'm right where I need to be.

The Talon pulled out his knife and rushed towards you. You leaped put of the way as he tried to swipe at you. You dodged his attack and caught his wrist. You slammed him against the wall but he kicked off it and slammed you into the water. He placed both hands around your neck as he kept your head under the sewage.

You punched him away and quickly got to your feet. He lunged at you again, but you were ready. You caught his wrist and slammed him against the wall again. This time, you grabbed the bottom of the mask. You gritted your teeth as you pulled it off and slammed him to the ground.

You stumbled backwards and looked at the mask in your hand. Slowly, you looked up to see just who the Talon was. Your eyes grew wide when you saw the mess of black hair before he turned around.

Ric: The Court of Owls has sentenced you to die.

Before you could react, he grabbes your head and slammed it against the wall. He tore off your belt and slammed you against the wall again and again and again. The wall began to give in before Ric slammed your head against the wall one final time. You fell into the darkness with your only light source fell deeper into the never ending hole.

As you fell into the abyss, one thing ran through your mind.

The Court of Owls watches, watches all the time. Ruling Gotham from a shadowed perch, behind granite and lime. They see you at your hearth, and they see you in your bed. Speak not a whispered word about them, or they'll send the Talon for your head.

You slowly stood up as a light shined down upon you. White stone walls surrounded you. Overhead, you heard a voice.

Owls: Welcome, Batman, to the Labyrinth!
--------
Jim stood on the roof of the GCPD, the Batsignal lit behind him. The night was cold. It was dark.

Bullock: He'll be dead soon, you know. Siggy. The Bat Signal. You've been running him hot all week. You're going to blow his bulb.

He looked at the large spotlight.

Jim: Leave it on, Harvey.

Bullock: I hate to say it, Commissioner, but it's been eight days. The Bat isn't coming. Leaving the light on for him...

Jim: It's not just for him, Lieutenant Bullock. It's for the scum who think Gotham's a damn playground now. It's for the other guys, too. The ones on our side. The one's who're hurting. Because they know him, the man underneath that mask. The man missing right now. Hell, it's for the whole city, Lieutenant. So like I said, the light stays on.

And in the apartment, Cassandra looked at the sky. At the symbol. Waiting for you to come home.