Behind The Arrow ➳ Oliver Queen [COMPLETED]

Chapter 10 | Welcome To Nanda Parbat

As my eyes open, my limbs flex in shock. There is a liquid in them, around my entire body too. Tubes run up each nostril and all that meets my skin is the warm glass that surrounds. This isn't a hospital. There is binding on my limbs and around my neck. Without a conscious thought, a choice, my body does what any must to survive.

Every muscle is stronger than it should ever be and there is no mental restraint on the force I can use. Snapped bones are preferable to death. In this way my captors have underestimated my strength. The liquid rushes out of the newly shattered glass and I step out, bindings in place but their anchor points free.

I want to stand but for the moment my legs have given way to gravity, shaky, weak. The retching goes on for so long I loose track of time and then I realize what the stench is. This isn't water at all, it's a preservative of some kind. I blink, blurriness fading, surroundings more crisp.

The coldness of the air is more apparent, stealing the warmth given to me by the foul concoction that has swept over the grey floor. I want to use all my senses, get a feel for whatever this is, but the foul odor dominates the air and the chill freezes my skin and the little brain power I can muster.

"You're in no state to walk," a voice calls from behind me. I slowly turn around, taking my time do that my limbs don't start aching. A woman stands before me, blonde locks falling down her shoulders like clusters of tornadoes. "How're you feeling?," she asks, standing away from me.

"Where am I, and who are you?," I ask, raising my hand to use my abilities but then slowly putting it down as the pain shot up in my arm.

"Ta-er al-Safar, but you can call me Canary," she smiles, adjusting the weapons strapped to her waist, "Welcome to Nanda Parbat."

"Where?," I ask, confused.

"Come with me," she instructs and I follow, walking down the dull hallway. This place was like a mud-built fortress, pressed on the side of a mountain. It was like the sand dooms you'd see in a blockbuster Indiana Jones film. Every corridor, room, hall, or flatland had black-hooded archers and swordsman guarding it, only their eyes visible. However, the Canary was nothing like them, she was very free. She didn't have her face hidden behind a mask, nor did she wear those ugly black suits.

We walked through several hallways and through several empty rooms before reaching a room which had a well with water flowing through it and a metal throne like the one you'd see in a medieval movie or show. Even the wooden gates were medieval and had to be manually operated.

On the throne sat a very serious looking man. He appeared to be in his mid-fifties. His hair wasn't done very nicely, he had some form of oil mixed in to give a short but noticeable wavy form to the black strands. His forehead was almost square, large and imposing, but not laughably so. A few lines were laid upon it, but they were dismissive as tricks of light.

His eyebrows were impossibly straight, his eyes were blue. Eyes that told of many secrets but held them locked in a strongbox so dangerous that you wouldn't dare to open in fear of what you might find within. The most striking feature was the slight mustache. It highlighted the frown placed upon his mouth and somehow made him seem more authoritative than his aura already suggested.

If one ventured close enough, his blue eyes would hungrily envelop yours and pull your feet towards him. It was nothing he did precisely, it just looked as if he had a secret you wouldn't enjoy hearing about.

"Meet Ra's al-Ghul, the Demon's Head," Canary motioned towards him, kneeling before him.

"What do you want from me?," I demand, angrily.

"I have noticed many aspects about you, Samantha Graham," he speaks slowly, "Your powers, to be straightforward."

"I can kill you right now," I state, letting out a low growl.