The Dawn of Hope

A Young Warrior

Somewhere in the Himalayan Mountain Range, 13 years ago

After what turned out to be an exhausting day of hiking through the rugged Himalayan mountains, Bruce sat down to rest as the sun began to go down in the beautiful distant horizon. 

It had been 6 years since that fateful night, but that one day had been driving Bruce to do everything that he had done since. Before his parents had been murdered, Bruce couldn't fully understand why his father and mother had invested so much of their money and time in helping the people of Gotham.

Their city was spoiled and rotten with problems, and none stood out more than the increasing crime rates. The police force wasn't helping much either, with criminals breaking out of Arkham Asylum and Blackgate Penitentiary with ease.

This was how he ended up going into the rabbit hole that was Gotham's crime history, and he ended up spending weeks researching and learning more about his city's problems. Weeks turned to months, and the lack of social interaction due to the boy's obsession had turned him from jolly and carefree to cold and indifferent, almost as if he had forgotten the meaning of warmth.

His change in persona had not gone unnoticed by Alfred, his now legal guardian, who had asked him several times to seek therapy. While Bruce knew it would probably be for the best, therapy would be just another distraction from his new fascination.

The only thing he could think of was Gotham and it's criminals. It was after several months of this, Bruce had come to a decision. If Gotham's police couldn't stop the crime, then he'd have to do it himself.

The decision had lead him to travel the world as 13 year old to learn from the very best. Now a year later, he had come to the Himalayas to find Ra's al Ghul, the leader of the infamous League of Assassins.

No one knew the actual location of where the League of Assassins was located, but Bruce had gotten a tip from the locals in a nearby village. He was sure he was getting closer, and there weren't many places that he had yet to search.

Plus, the Assassins definitely knew that he was searching for them, there was pretty much nothing that they didn't know, and they would let themselves be found if they wanted to take him in.

As the last remnants of the sun began to dip below the horizon, Bruce stopped to search for a spot where he could camp for the night. After a look around, there was a nice clearing with gravel on the ground where it would be safe to make a fire. 

The young boy quickly set to work setting up camp, cutting down branches with his hatchet for firewood, setting up his tent, and starting a fire.

Just as he had finished with the setting up of the camp and sat down, Bruce noticed a slight movement to his left. He immediately stiffened, wary of a hungry predator.

Slipping his hand around hatchet, Bruce turned his back to the fire as he to figure out what was near him. After several tense minutes, nothing happened, and he took a slight sigh of relief and relaxed.

At that precise moment, a black figure swept out from the tree directly in front of, with a shining blade pointed at his head.

By some miracle, Bruce ducked under the blade and swung his hatchet upwards, hoping to knock the weapon out of his assailant's hands. That turned out to be a bad move as his hatchet was wrenched out of his hand and went clattering to the floor. He took a swing at the black figure, but it quickly ducked and swiftly punched him in the chest, knocking the wind out of him.

Bruce growled as a sword was placed on his neck and he was shoved into the tree behind him.

"Well, I don't know if I expected anything else from someone like you, but you've got grit I'll admit," the cloaked assailant said in a light, feminine tone.