(DC Multiverse Adventures)
"-even with his parties and his playboy act-"
Zoya starts chuckling out of nowhere then proceeds to laugh quietly.
Dick looks at her. "What?"
She shakes her head. "Nothing."
"No, what?" He presses.
She pressed her lips tog...
When Oliver and Diggle tried to free Malcolm, they were met with someone that Nyssa had failed to mention.
Ra's youngest,
Zoya
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Out of his three daughters, Zoya was his favorite child.
From the moment she could wield a weapon at a young age, he could tell that she would bring honor to his empire with only a snap of her fingers. Her prestige use of the arts of killing surpass every noble warrior of his clan. Even himself.
What he admired most about her was her weapon of choice. Her swords.
Dao swords were a peculiar characteristic weapon of choice considering her sisters chose a bow, but Zoya chose these as they perfectly symbolize her agile strategies and movements. As if she was a dancer of the night, composing her next killing.
Her strategies were also praised upon. As a strategist, she was ten steps ahead of everything else, from battle stations to counter attacks of their biggest targets.
He could not have been prouder when she was sent for her first assignment. The pride within his eyes was everything that Zoya has every right to be joyful for as the daughter of the al Ghul line.
But what she felt was sorrow.
Sorrow that she had taken a human life in her father's name, his targets were her targets. For as long as she can remember, she tricked herself into believing that she was helping Ra's cleansing the earth of those who would disrupt the world's balance of light and dark. But it was only a matter of time before she found herself being rescued from such a path that would consume her into a never-ending river of blood.
She was lucky that Ra's had not positioned her as the sole heir to the League. She was too valuable an asset. But that did not mean that she was a stranger to his dark desires. His most desired, was a child. An heir to keep the al Ghul line set in stone as a mark that their existence in the shadow of the night brought the only peace that was ever made than what the earth's newest heroes never could.
At least, that was what Zoya believed that he was convinced of.
Nanda Parbat
2002
Seven-year-old Zoya closes her eyes as her eighteen-year-old sister, Nyssa, blindfolded her with a black fabric.
Nyssa leans in, her lips to Zoya's ears. "Be gentle with them. They are only rookies."
