The Probability of Possibilities


A/N: Let Raven/Malchior live on! It is one of the most marvelous pairings to ever be introduced (if only slightly) to this planet and many others! I simply could not wait to create my first Raven/Malchior fic, if I had delayed any longer, I would have combusted from excitement! And so here I am, typing away on my laptop, and creating the first chapter of my first Raven/Malchior story I mention once again. LET US ALL GIVE A MIGHTY 'HURRAH' FOR THIS WONDERFUL OCCURANCE!

*Takes a so called 'chill pill'.*

I do apologize for my earlier behavior; I was suffering from the disease known as 'obsession'. But now I'm all well and fine so we may begin once we get the pesky. . .

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the plot line.

. . .out of the way.


*Is taken by doctors to get blood pressure checked.*

"Entry 12, December 17th, 1011

The land of Azarath was in ruins. The shining buildings were all set aflame and burning to the ground to join the piles of wreckage that littered the once clear streets. The originally blue sky was now a haunting crimson, like a lake of blood above your head. The bright sun was obscured by red overcast, never to shine again over the unfortunate utopia. No birds flew in the air, no people crowded the sidewalks and stores, for they all evacuated only hours before, hoping for a chance of survival elsewhere.

To think that this wasteland was what remained of my home, the thought saddened me to my very core.

I, Raven Arelia Roth, was the only one citizen left limping through the debris. My scorched cloak billowing behind me in a hot breeze, bruises scattered about my skin, fresh cuts slowly oozed blood and various wounds were left unattended, but I was willing to continue fighting.

To fight for my goal of defeating the Demon Lord, to prevent him from killing many and striking fear into the rest, to cause a cessation of destroyed civilizations at the hands of that wretch, to avenge my homeland and protector.

And I would spend my last breath to do so.

I had fought my way through his army of fire demons, summoned bodies, and evil spirits. Though badly injured, my determination never wavered, and my destiny was etched in stone.

I was destined to kill Trigon the Terrible, the cursed demon who had obliterated the one who cared enough to save me from death.

Rage threatened to overcome me at the memory of watching the woman who had become a mother to me die at the hands of that monster. My teeth clenched in an effort to suppress the emotion.

And there sat the scoundrel, atop a large building, in all his horned, four eyed glory.

Anger and pain flooded through my body as my gaze rested upon him. The drive to kill him made my body shift from a slow walk, to a full on sprint. My feet hit the ashen pavement, careful to avoid the various objects in my path.

I arrived at the foot of his throne soon after, preparing my magic at my hands. Trigon merely looked down and smiled that malicious smile of his, he seemed amused.

A low rumble swept through the lands as the demon threw his head back and laughed, a deep and unholy sound that made my bones quake with unease.

"Why are you still here child? Do you have hopes of reclaiming your precious city? Or are you here to destroy me and avenge your precious city?" He spoke with heavy sarcasm, thus angering me further. "It matters not. You will not accomplish anything against me."

My eyes glowed a dangerous black and I snarled at the creature. "I have come to do the latter, and I will succeed if it is the last thing I do!"

His smile grew bigger still as he leaned forward so that he loomed over me, causing an intimidating effect.

"Your efforts will be wasted, and this conversation will be the last of your life."

He said. His four eyes glowed red as a beam shot out of all of them, directed at my form. Quick to react, I threw up a shield of my black power to completely surround me. But as the beams made contact, I strained to maintain my magical barrier. I knew I would not last much longer unless I ended this quickly for I had wasted too much of my energy on his minions.

The pressure of the beams increased as I struggled to summon my ancient spell book. I laid it out in front of me as I prepared to cast the last spell of my shortly lived life.

Flipping to the right page, I heard an ominous noise that could only be associated with his amused laughter. "You have proven to be quite powerful by holding against me for so long, even if it has only been a matter of seconds, but I plan to finish this now." He said.

'As do I.' thought I. His attack turned from its bright red to a deep burgundy as he added on more power to it. Beads of perspiration gathered on my brow as I realized I would only last for a few more seconds at best, so I raised my hands and took a large and quavering br—"


Dark eyes lifted themselves from the ancient and tattered pages of the book and an annoyed sigh passed though the young man's lips. He was tempted to ignore the persistent siren, but alas, he had a job to do.

The boy stood up from his position on his bed and set the book down just as a heavy knock assaulted the metal door of his room.

"Come on Malchior, Dr. Light is attacking Jump City Bank!"


The doors to Titan's Tower slid open and 6 exhausted teens lumbered in. Apparently, Dr. Light had returned with a new suit that had been equipped with, and I quote, "all the latest and greatest light related technology and weapons that will knock that arrogant smile right off of that deceptively covered face of yours."

Maybe it would've if he ever got the chance to use it.

You see, it wasn't really a battle. All Malchior had to do was 'go all dragon on his sorry butt' and Dr. Light would be reduced from his confident, ready-for-anything-you-cocky-asses-throw-at-me state, to withering on the ground, begging for the lord to have mercy on his poor deluded soul.

So, it was pretty much a wasted effort, and at 3 in the morning none the less.

"That was utterly pointless," *YAWN* "I am going back to bed if you don't mind." said Rorek as he disappeared into the dark halls.

Rorek, as it seemed, was the most polite of the Titans. He had long white hair that had grown out to his waist, his eyes were a shocking electric blue and his skin was slightly, not heavily, tanned. Over the bottom half of his face, a black scarf resided, masking his mouth, nose, and chin from those around him. His battle uniform consisted of well-polished silver armor with a rather large 'R' on the chest, metallic boots, and gloves. Under all this metal, he wore a plain black body-suit.

"I would have inserted a snide remark to that if it wasn't so damn early." Malchior was on his way up the stairs, heading toward his room.

Malchior looked, arguably, exactly like Rorek, being his twin and all. The only differences were his alabaster skin, his scarlet armor with a decorative 'M', his burgundy eyes, and his black hair.

Beastboy draped himself over the couch, being too lazy to continue the trek to his room. The green boy was snoring in a matter of seconds. Cyborg had already fallen to the floor and resumed his previously disturbed sleep also. Starfire joined her unconscious friends soon later, from floating in the air to sprawled out on the ground.

Robin had at least enough energy to make it to the door. He stood with his finger a centimeter away from the open button, before he smacked face flat into the wall. He slowly slid down as drool started to accumulate in his mouth.


Malchior made it to his room and threw himself onto his blood red covers. But before unconsciousness claimed him too, he heard the silent calling of the weathered black book that lay on his nightstand.

The temptation to read was too strong and Malchior heaved himself up with a great deal of effort. Since when does armor feel so heavy? He thought, he felt his red armor get steadily heavier every second he remained upright. A gloved hand reached out to grab the book, before crashing back down onto the soft mattress along with the rest of Malchior's body.



Malchior felt a rather warm sensation creeping onto his face.

An eye popped open and it was immediately met with the blinding light that came from the far-away star known as the sun. Malchior scowled and sat upright, it seemed he had forgotten to close the curtains due to Dr. Light's disturbance. Idiotic pest.

The clanking of metal was heard as Malchior stood up and yanked his curtains shut. Darkness enveloped the once light-bathed room once again.

Malchior made his way over to the bathroom connected to his room. Once undressed, he set the shower to its hottest point and waited. When the temperature had reached the human-flesh-burning point, Malchior stepped in and proceeded to wash himself. The dark dragon sighed in content as the scalding water pattered against his skin, oh how refreshing this was.


"Malchior, brother, I need something."

Malchior's eyebrow twitched. He was currently sitting on his bed, with his book in his arms, just about to turn to the correct page, and start reading. These people really must work on their timing.

"What?" he snapped.

Rorek fidgeted behind the door, he was used to his brother's hostile behavior, but he couldn't help but flinch at his acidic tone of voice.

"Would you happen to have any Cyrtanthus Erubescens left? I need it for a spe—"

Before he had time to finish, the door was opened with a 'whoosh' and the plant was shoved into his arms and then the door was slammed shut.

"You may leave now."

Rorek blinked, and blinked again. "Erm. . .thank you, I'll. . .just be going." Rorek turned on his heel and promptly continued down the hall to his room. What on Earth could he be doing that's so important? thought Rorek.

Malchior sighed, the disturbance had passed and he was now free to read. A smile peeled across his thin lips and he flipped through the torn pages of the book with the upmost care. Ah, page 1834, now at long last, I can continue.

". . .so I raised my hands and took a large and quavering breath. My eyes focused in on the words on the page in front of me as the shield felt increasingly heavier to hold up.


"Malchior, please do pardon my interruption, but have you seen Silkie?"

Malchior glared at the door and slowly closed his book once again. He stood up and walked towards it, taking slow deliberate steps. Once he reached, the door, he typed in the pass code and the door slid open about 2 inches.

Starfire shifted and glanced down the hall worriedly before returning her green gaze to Malchior. "I have not seen him anywhere and friend Robin says he has not been able to locate him either, I was wondering if per chance you happened to see—"

"I have not seen your mutant worm pet, nor do I wish to, but I'll inform you if I do." The door slid closed and the sound of footsteps could be heard, then the sound of creaking springs as Malchior sat down on his bed. "You may leave."

Starfire smiled uneasily, Malchior always did have an air of creepiness about him, and it unsettled her, but she would never voice her opinion of course, she was far too nice. "Th-thank you friend Malchior."

A grunt was heard and Starfire knew she was dismissed. The Tamaranean walked back down the dark corridor and searched for her 'Bungorf'.

Malchior glared at the door for a few more seconds before the sound of the girl's footsteps faded. He hesitated a second, before returning to his previous page. Let there be no more interruptions.

". . .the shield felt increasingly heavier to hold up.

'Azarath Metrion Zi—'"

"Heeeeeeeeey Maaaaaaaaalchiooooooor!"

Steam shot out of the dark dragon's ears as he slammed his book shut.



Beastboy and Cyborg were brimming with excitement as they hid behind a strategically placed potted plant just outside Malchior's door.

The two boys heard heavy footsteps and then the door burst open.


Malchior looked annoyed as hell as he searched the empty halls; when his eyes fell upon a rather large potted plant placed next to his door. He stepped forward and stared at the plant, what was it doing here? It hadn't been here before.

"What the he—"



Beastboy and Cyborg shot out from behind the plant and burst out laughing at the sight before them.

Malchior had somehow been stupid enough to step outside the safety of his room and into the boys' immature prank. He now found himself soaking from head to toe, drenched in. . .was that vinegar?



Malchior, on the other hand, did not find this the least bit amusing.

He was mad, no furious, no, scratch that, he was ENRAGED!


"You. . .are. . .imbeciles." he started clamly, though his voice was shaking in effort to suppress his rage.

"Uh. . .Mal? You OK?" asked a wary Cyborg.

Melchior's eyes flashed with a concealed fire as he finally snapped. "MY NAME IS NOT MAL, YOU CRETINS! WHY MUST I BE THE SUBJECT OF YOUR FOOLISH JOKES?"

"Woah man! No need to get all angry, it was just—" Beastboy was cut off as the door was slammed in their faces, quite loudly, if I may add.


Fueled by an unknown rage, Beastboy was quick to retort, "Why are you always alone? Always locked up in your creepy room, reading your creepy books! We just wanted you to have some fun! Do you have something against having fun? That's right, YOU DO! 'CAUSE YOU'RE SO CREEPY!"

Beastboy was about to continue, when he felt a strong hand grip his shoulder. The green teen looked up and met the disapproving eyes of Cyborg.

"Just. . .leave it man."


"Just. . .leave it man."

Malchior listened in silence as the footsteps disappeared. That last statement hit something inside of him.


"Look, it's the witch boy! He's here to spread his disgusting disease to us all! Run for your lives!" a little boy of age seven screamed. He was followed by many other kids as they screamed and shrieked, running in scattered directions, fleeing from the clearing, where a lone boy of age six sat.

A young Malchior stared after the children in dismay. Why can't I be like them? He thought, Why must I be so. . .alone? Seconds passed, and those seconds soon turned into minutes and sure enough, a lone tear trailed down the boys fair skin, it traveled south, and then it splattered on the ground.

The cloudy sky and the peaceful clearing didn't seem to console the boy as he held back tears. This treatment had been going on for some time. He couldn't take it, after all, he was only a mere child who needed companions.

He sat there for a few more seconds, before he heard the sound of crunching leaves, Malchior looked up and saw a little boy standing there, watching him with unreadable eyes.

At first, Malchior thought that maybe, just maybe, this boy had come to play with him.

But those hopes were shattered as a clump of mud hit his face. The other boy threw another handful that stained Malchior's shirt.

"CREEP!" the little boy shouted.

The tears burst out and Malchior cried for the first time since he was two, it came in torrents, and when his brother finally found him, Malchior was on the ground, shaking with sobs.


"I'm not creepy. . .just different."

Malchior was saddened by the memory, so many years ago, but he still felt the pain as if it were a fresh wound. He sat on his bed and stared at the overcast that covered the once bright sky.

"Look, it's the witch boy! He's here to spread his disgusting disease to us all! Run for your lives!"

He clutched the black book tighter, bringing it so that it dug into his chest, almost painfully. "I wish there was someone who would understand that. . .someone who I could talk to, someone like. . .me." He closed his eyes and took a deep, shaky breath, and just as he was about to open his eyes, he heard a feminine voice speak.

"There is."


How's that for a first chapter?

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