(Present Day)
Raven walked across her room to the far wall and looked at the chest containing the white book. Frowning, she pressed one small hand against the top of the chest.
"I really should lock this up down in the vault with all the other stuff that's too dangerous to leave lying around. Not that I'm gonna be stupid enough to open it again. That's more Beast Boy's cup of tea."
But no . . . that really was unfair. Because Beast Boy hadn't been the one to release the horror within. No, that had been done by the smart one. The one with all the linear logic, who never gave in to impulses.
(Last Year)
Malchior. In her fifteenth year he had been the high-water mark of misery in Raven's life. She'd found him at the bottom of a box of arcane books she's bought in a lot at the estate auction of a man reputed to have been some kind of wizard. She'd been nothing of particular practical use in the box, but there had been some interesting lore books on herbs and, of course, the Journal of Malchior of Nall. The book had literally spoken to her, claiming to be Malchior of Nall, a thousand-year-old wizard, trapped in an enchanted book by a wicked dragon during the reign of King Arthur. He'd turned out to be a liar. After days and days of work, she'd freed him from his curse, only to discover that Malchior hadn't been the Wizard of that ancient battle. He'd been the dragon. He'd trained her, flattered her, and molded her into the tool he needed, and then cast her aside like so much garbage.
"Azar," she thought. "That had hurt."
She'd felt stupid that she could have been so easily fooled. "My hair is a color not found in nature, my eyes look like cheap gemstones, I have no boobs, no waist and no ass, and my skin is the color of a day old corpse! It wasn't like I didn't know how to use a mirror!"
Nobody was could ever call her beautiful and mean it. "And as for being one of those 'girls with a great personality. . .' HA! I'm moody and withdrawn except when I'm sarcastic and abrasive. I claim to have no emotions, but you'd have to be blind and deaf to miss my short temper. So I have no emotions but unpleasant ones. What boy in his right mind wants all of that?"
But it had felt so good to believe him. To love and to be loved. She should have known something was wrong with all of those emotions roaring around her, and her powers not wrecking everything in sight.
Her friends had leapt into action in an effort to contain Melchior as he took wing over the city skyline. They'd fought to some good effect, but it had been her mess to clean up, and she'd done so. In spite of, or perhaps because of Melchior's mocking, she had been able to place him back into the enchanted book from whence he had come. That done, she'd tried to retreat to her room, fleeing her embarrassment and humiliation. It had been Beast Boy who had come to her then.
Although it was steel, her door carried her scent as he stood in the hallway outside.
"I'm sorry Raven," he said, "I'm sorry he broke your heart."
"I know it was all a lie," she replied, "but he was the first person to make me feel like I wasn't . . . creepy. And don't try to tell me I'm not."
"Okay, fine - you're way creepy. But that doesn't mean you have to stay locked in your room. You think you're alone Raven, but you're not."
She burst out of her room and hugged him, sighing with gusto.
(Three Years Ago)
It really had been a violation of her privacy, and inexcusably rude. But she wouldn't talk to him beyond simple politeness, so when Cyborg had accidentally knocked in the door to her room, Beast Boy couldn't resist the opportunity to explore it. The lure of the forbidden space would have been enough by itself, but when the door clattered against the steel floor of the tower, her scent had wafted out of the room and drawn him in. He'd been helpless to resist it. Oh, he'd covered well.
