Chapter 13

It was evening at the time Talia led Bruce out of the room they had been in. He noticed that he was in a wing of the mountain-top structure he hadn't been to, despite being marched up and down the compound for five months continuously. The war room, great hall, air-well and cells were oriental themed, though mostly functional. The new wing, on the other hand, was draped in silk curtains, painted tiles and reflected what seemed to be dome-like Iranian architecture. The walkway that they crossed consisted of large onion-shaped arches with round perches that overlooked a picturesque landscape - no bars nor iron gates in sight. The low parapets welcomed him to their side, paving a way that would lead him home.

He turned to see her watching him intently, waiting for him patiently. It was then he realised that he had stopped completely, his attention caught by the arches facing out. "I uh.. I'm sorry," he hurried over to her side, embarrassed by the undue distraction.

"You're thinking of going out there again?" she observed quietly.

Something about her felt trustworthy, although he knew that being too forthright with the daughter of his captor would probably be a poor choice. "You must know that I'm here against my will."

She moved closer. "You almost perished the last time you attempted to go out there on your own."

"Talia, I don't belong here. If your father means to keep me here for good, I'm gonna keep trying to leave... and I'd rather die trying. There's nothing you or your father can say to convince me otherwise."

She was a little taken aback by his determination to leave, though she finally nodded. "That's a pity, but I understand the sentiment. Travel the world all we must, but we always gravitate back to where we were born."

Something about what Talia had said made Bruce wonder if she was speaking about herself. They continued to walk down that corridor in silence. Bruce thought about that man in the dark cloak who'd called to him, and it left a knot in his stomach.

Talia stopped at two aligning doors with arabic engravings on them. They fit into an elaborate onion shaped arch that was adorned with what looked to be clear gemstones, and pieces of mirror. She knocked twice, "Father, it's me. The chosen one wishes to speak with you. Is this acceptable?"

She waited quietly for a few moments till a reply came. "You may enter."

The doors were opened to her, and five men stood within. Three, dressed in League garb, one burly individual dressed in a singlet, silken pants and a sash over his waist, and the man in the middle that Bruce immediately surmised was the master, a dark cloak over his shoulders that spooled onto the floor. He wasn't hooded this time. There was a thin smile over a sharp chin, dark eyes, strong nose, skin of a shade of umber, much like his daughter's, and grey streaks in his hair. "I see my daughter has revived you," he said, never taking his eyes off Bruce. Talia gravitated to her father's side, leaving Bruce alone before the master.

"Ra's Al Ghul," Bruce replied, returning his gaze.

"It's Arabic for 'demon's head' - it was a local superstition that I carried with me through the years. That name has only solidified with my position."

Bruce considered what he had said about the origins of his name - Ra's and his daughter Talia certainly appeared to be of middle-eastern origin, yet at the same time bore none of the accent. If he had to place it, both of them sounded more British than anything resembling the east. But back to matters at hand... "You've held me now for five months."

The master grinned. "And you're getting restless. That's completely understandable. You'll be glad to know that in your zeal to leave this place, you've managed to prove yourself as worthy of the title."

"Of being the chosen one?"

"Indeed. You have a great destiny ahead of you. I have glimpsed the future - your future. While others might fear the unknown, you, my boy, will step boldly into the darkness. You will tame it, master it, wield it like a sword and finally be raised above as its king. Your name will be uttered among circles in fear. You will crush tyranny like a feeble weed within your palm. Your enemies will gather against you, but you will be unstoppable... unbreakable. You will be known as the creature in the dark, purveyor of justice, a dark knight - and thus also the heir to my empire."

Bruce listened quietly as Ra's spoke, it sounded more like the ravings of a madman - though a madman savvy enough to have him kidnapped and keep him from leaving for all this time. "An heir?" He looked at Talia questioningly. "What about your daughter?"

Without even turning to Talia, Ra's continued, "My daughter is loyal, and greatly skilled. But it is tradition that no woman shall be permitted to lead the League. Instead, she will be a wife to you, and together, you will bear a son who will then carry on the mantle."

Bruce shot Talia a look of apology as he told her father, "No." She did not speak, but turned to her father with an air of apprehension.

Ra's expression flinched for a moment. It became clear that he wasn't anticipating a rejection of his offer. "You mistake your role in this, Bruce Wayne. Destiny binds you to the League of Shadows, you should not try to fight it."

"I'm sorry but I refuse," Bruce continued. "I do hope that you will find someone more suited for the position though."

The fire grew in Ra's eyes, he was losing his patience. "There is none other!" He insisted. "You are the privileged son of Gotham who will be forged in the fires of the mighty cataclysm! It will be a time of reckoning for all among the slain. Power will be stripped from those who've made a career out of the oppression of others. Criminals will be let loose to plague the few who survive and desperation will run rampant through the streets. But you, my boy, will survive it all and emerge from a city of the dead with an army of the League at your side to put things right, ultimately becoming Gotham's true savior."

He'd never given what Ra's prophecies much weight, being much of a skeptic himself. But the grim picture he painted of Gotham perturbed him enough to ask about it, "A cataclysm?" He recalled a video he'd once seen of a scientist warning the public of a possible earthquake to occur in the near future. One that would rock Gotham to the core. He'd cited research and evidence, but was mostly ignored for being a doomsday conspiracy theorist. Yet for some reason, Bruce had remembered him, and what he had said.

Ra's nodded. "It took a great driving force to send yourself out there into the cold with nothing but a pair of cloth shoes and a robe - I assume that you were headed for home."

"Of course I was."

"If you love your city enough to risk your own life, then you should heed the prophecy to save those you treasure."

Bruce had so many questions, but he doubted that Ra's would be suited to answer them. "How do I save anyone while I'm still a prisoner in Nanda Parbat?"

The master chuckled. "You're no longer a prisoner, Bruce Wayne. You stopped being one the moment that you proved yourself."

"Then send me home. If I'm to be in Gotham City at the time of the cataclysm, then you need to bring me back," Bruce replied.

"Oh trust me, I've already made plans for your return," Ra's stated, to Bruce's surprise. "But remember, there is still the matter of your marriage to Talia. Unfortunately, that is the one thing at this time that I must insist on. Look at me, I'm aging and about to pass on. I want to leave my beautiful daughter in the hands of the man she'd been promised to from birth. This is my legacy to her, and the rest of the League."

Struggling with the thought of marriage to someone he barely knew, Bruce couldn't say the prospect of finally returning to Gotham wasn't enticing him to ignore the other part. "What if I refuse the marriage?" he asked, trying to judge Talia's feelings in the matter, though she just seemed mostly pensive over the issue at hand. He hated that her father had not given her an option in the choosing of her own life partner.

Ra's hardened towards him. "Then you will not leave till you oblige! As long as I'm alive, you are not leaving here till you have bonded with my daughter, and are ready to carry out the prophecy in full."

Bruce opened his mouth to respond, but Talia cut in. "Father, you have revealed much to the chosen one. It might be advantageous for him to spend the night alone to consider everything you've said. I'm certain he will be more accommodating tomorrow, given time to think things through."

In a moment, her humble request quenched her father's rage. Offering her a gentle pat on the back, Ra's gazed lovingly upon her. "As wise as always, Daughter. Just like your mother." And turning to Bruce, "It shall be as she says, you will have a day to think things over, and you will see me once again tomorrow. By then, I hope your answer will be more preferable."

As much as Bruce thought to comment further, a night to digest everything didn't sound like a bad idea either. Perhaps he would get his thoughts sorted by then - but as for marriage, he doubted he'd budge on the issue.