8: Talia al Ghul [1]

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The candlelight flickered in tune with the wind's rhythm, causing the flames to dance gracefully along the room's walls.

I stood before the mirror, carefully removing the bandages that had been on me since last night. I hummed softly in satisfaction as I inspected my new face, noting the straighter and sharper contours of my jawline. Bruce's once vibrant blue eyes now held a hint of green within them.

My gaze traveled down to my exposed chest, revealing the significant differences from before. The scars left by the pit's challenges had mostly disappeared, leaving only a few behind. My skin now had a healthy radiance, a result of my immersion in the Lazarus.

Setting aside the discarded bandages, I reached for the kukri knife placed on a nearby stool. I pressed its tip against my arm and drew it down, the sensation of pain barely registering as the wound opened. I watched as blood seeped out, only for it to regenerate within seconds, leaving my skin flawless once more.

Lazarus had granted me unexpected gifts: heightened regeneration, increased durability, and enhanced flexibility, to name just a few of the remarkable changes I've observed so far.

"May I come in?" I blinked as I heard a soothing voice, and looking up at the mirror, I noticed Talia's reflection standing by the door.

"Yes." I nodded.

Talia entered calmly, her gaze curiously sweeping over my bare chest. Moving gracefully, she made her way into the room, her long white dress swaying as she walked. Taking a seat at the edge of my bed, she positioned herself with poise and dignity.

I observed her quietly, mentally capturing the image of Talia al Ghul in my mind.

The Daughter of the Demon.

The Queen of the League.

Studying her flawless, smooth brown skin, I couldn't help but reflect on her character's evolution.

In the earlier comics, she was destined to be Bruce's counterpart, his other half. Then came Grant Morrison, who seemed to revel in turning everything dark and convoluted. Batman's affair with Batgirl, Nightwing's involvement with Catwoman, even crippling Gordon and killing Bruce's child - Morrison had a knack for adding turmoil. But that was a tangent.

"Has your father summoned me?" I inquired, my thoughts returning to the present.

"No." She shook her head with a serene smile.

"Then why are you here?" I asked, cautious yet intrigued.

"My father mentioned you hadn't seen the finer parts of the city." She remarked, her tone tinged with a hint of judgment. "It's a missed opportunity."

"Well, I wasn't exactly expecting the League's welcome to involve pit fights, spending a day battling for my life, and then waking up in boiling springs." I added sarcastically. Truth be told, compared to my military training, this wasn't the worst.

"Sandra tends to be rigorous with her students, relishes breaking them to mold into perfect warriors." Talia explained. I couldn't blame anyone; Bruce could have handled the pit like I did, though he might have struggled differently, considering he would be fighting to subdue and not kill, while I didn't hold back.

"Sending someone to fight a hundred cannibals doesn't exactly follow standard practice, even for rigorous training." I mused, genuinely curious.

"Well..." Talia paused, stepping closer until our faces were mere inches apart. She calmly halted, her eyes locking onto mine. She leaned in, her voice a soft whisper. "Aren't you unique, Mr. Wayne?"

I couldn't help but smirk, meeting the mischievous glint in her eyes with my own playful gaze.

"Well, Ms. Al Ghul, that's a discovery you'll have to make." I responded.

Talia retreated, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she moved away, allowing my eyes to trace over her exposed back.

"Care to join me?" She asked, glancing back. The scene was like a snapshot from a painting.

"With the assurance that I won't be pushed into another pit, I'd be glad to." I responded, reaching for a t-shirt to cover myself.

"I promise. I'm gentler than Sandra." She chuckled before exiting the room.

The city of Eth Alth'eban still lay cloaked in early morning darkness. The sun had yet to break through, and the moon's faint rays painted silver lines across the sky.

Walking side by side, Talia and I navigated through the city. Chilly winds brushed against our skin as the warm sands cushioned our steps. I stole glances at her, attempting to discern any signs of emotion, but the enigmatic silence between us kept me on edge. This calmness was foreign, and I couldn't help but break it.

"How long have you been in this city?" I inquired, causing her brows to raise with surprise.

"Quite a while." She responded after a moment's thought. "My father and I moved here, along with Dusan, right after my tenth birthday. It's been eleven winters since."

"Ever been out?" I pressed.

"On occasion, but I mainly stay here."

"To hone your skills, I presume." I stated. Her steps faltered for a moment, surprise flashing across her features before she composed herself.

"What makes you think that?" She queried, her curiosity thinly veiled.

"Your movements are swift yet silent, almost like a perpetual state of vigilance. And I'm fairly certain your flexibility surpasses your father's." I deduced. "These aren't innate attributes; they're cultivated skills."

Talia absorbed my words, silent acknowledgment playing across her face.

"Thank you." She whispered, a genuine smile touching her lips.

"No problem." I dismissed it with a wave of my hand before suggesting we move on. "Shall we?"

"Yes, please."

After engaging in small talk, Talia led me far from the city center. She showed me every corner, offering insights into various aspects of this place that held her heart.

Most of the city was swallowed by darkness, bereft of electricity and inhabitants. League members occupied the abandoned houses, cultivating their own food. With a natural well supplying water, Eth Alth'eban was entirely self-sustained - no surprise that the League had similar bases worldwide.

Finally, after traversing the city's labyrinthine paths, Talia guided me to our destination: a hill on the far eastern edge. We settled side by side, gazing at the breathtaking sight before us as the sun began to ascend.

"It's beautiful." I murmured, my heart syncing with the mesmerizing scene.

"I know." She replied, her satisfaction evident. "I often come here when I feel stifled. This place offers me a..."

"A sense of belonging?" I finished, sensing the unspoken emotion.

"Yes." She confirmed, her smile radiant as she looked at me.

"I can relate."

"Really?" Her raised eyebrow held skepticism.

"Yes." I affirmed.

Bruce and I both had places in our lives that offered solitude and solace. For me, it was the garage, working amid machines. For him, it was the clock tower. These places aided us as we grappled with our respective grief.

Talia's gaze lingered on me, an intrigued expression in her emerald eyes.

"Why does that surprise you?" I probed.

"Well, I thought you were the type to maintain emotional distance, much like my father." She admitted, then faltered. "I apologize; that was uncalled for."

"No need." I assured her. "While controlling emotions is essential, allowing them to cloud judgment isn't."

"Have you ever let emotions guide your actions?" She inquired, her curiosity piqued.

"Yes."

"What happened?"

I smiled and remained silent. She comprehended my lack of response and respected it.

In this serene moment, as we stood side by side watching the sun rise, our shared silence held a connection that surpassed words.

There was no ulterior motive, just two individuals finding companionship in the midst of the unknown.

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A/N: Check out the riddle.

Suggest me some good songs to hear while I write.