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Tales of Conquest, Warnings of Fools:
Letters Between Brothers
Danyal Fenton, Jan. 8th, 2014
I sincerely apologize for the lack of contact. Much has happened; too much to put into a single letter, though I’m sure you saw some of it on the news. It has been two years since your last letter. I wanted to respond earlier, but I was too much of a coward. I spent hours staring at your letters, but I couldn’t bring myself to open them, let alone respond. That is no excuse, however, and I apologize.
As I’ve already mentioned I’m sure you know, Father went missing shortly after my last letter to you. The public was told that he was kidnapped and that we would pay ransom. He returned about a year ago, as I’m also certain you heard, and we assured the public that the Private Investigators we hired had found and retrieved him and that the captors had been imprisoned. That is our cover story. I would like to tell you the truth of the matter in person, but it cannot wait for that day to come.
Father was lost in time. He has still not told us how or what happened when he was gone, other than that he lost his memory. Everytime he regained it, he would leave a clue for us before he forgot again and was taken to another time. He said he had help, but he didn’t say from whom.
Timothy was the one to follow the clues and rescue him, though I’m not sure how. Everyone thought Father was dead, but we refrained from announcing it until Timothy returned from his search.
No one knows that Batman was missing. Richard took up the cowl and I was given the title of Robin. (The colors are garish, but the others wore them, so I must as well.) Richard was quite good at stepping into Father’s place, well enough to fool Superman and the rest of the Justice League, but it was hard on him. The stress was too much for him at the time, though he is now back as Nightwing in Bludhaven.
As morbid as the thought may be, the entire year was good for distancing our civilian and vigilante lives. No one thinks Father is Batman because Batman was active while Father was missing. Nightwing was undercover while Richard was in Gotham, returning before Richard left to go back to his city. Timothy was sighted in Pakistan with no appearance from Red Robin until after Timothy had “left”.
On the topic of Timothy, he is on Grandfather’s radar. He confided that, in the process of looking for Father, he enlisted the help of the Council of Spiders. Grandfather trained him, offering up the position of Demons Heir to him. In his escape, Timothy blew up eight bases around the world, though I don’t know how he managed.
On the topic; I have renounced my position of Demons Heir. Father and our siblings have taught me many things since I first arrived, things which made me rethink what we grew up knowing. I’m sure you went through the same thing. Mother has tried fruitlessly to take me back with her, but I have gone back to Father every time. I wanted to go back to you, but I am not willing to put you at risk like that. However, the Shadows have separated into factions, one side with Grandfather and the other with Mother. Nanda Parbat now stands as Grandfather’s primary base of operations.
The WAR - We Are Robin - Movement that swept over Gotham in Father’s absence was headed by our new foster brother Duke Thomas. He now goes by the name Signal. I was the one to recruit him and give him the bat he now wears.
Having gone back to re-read your letters, and read for the first time your last three letters, I have noticed that you refer to Father’s chosen as my siblings alone. Do you not want them to be your siblings as well? I do not blame or criticize; I am simply curious and would like some clarity. والآن حان دوري لأطلب عفوك. لن أدع الاتصالات البعيدة المدى تفلت من يدي مرة أخرى.
Damian Wayne
***
After two years of radio silence, Danny finally got a letter from his brother. He was glad, don’t get him wrong! But he found himself not nearly as excited as he would’ve been last year. After two years of constantly waiting and checking and not being able to do anything, Danny was so burnt out that when the letter finally did come, he didn’t immediately rush to open and read it. He did, of course, open and read it, but he also waited to write up a response. Like Damian, he now had a lot on his plate, except he actually barely had any time to himself anymore.
Between ghost fights, playing keep-away with his parents and the GIW, teaching his friends how to handle themselves in a fight, saving the world, and trying desperately to get through the media block to reach the Justice League, Danny was pulled so thin that he was surprised he hadn’t ripped apart from the stress of it all! That’s not to even mention his own training in the Infinite Realms!
Yes, he had his team, but they could only do so much. And it didn’t help that Vlad the Frootloop who is secretly a vampire keeps getting in his way and causing shit! He did get a dog now, though! Cujo is the best dog.
That’s all to say that he’s beyond tired.
“Whoever came up with the saying “Sleep when you’re dead” is a fucking liar!” he exclaimed, flopping face-first onto Sam’s bed.
She snorted. “Don’t be dramatic, Danny.”
“No, no, he’s got a point,” Tucker said, “Danny’s been getting less sleep since he died!”
Danny groaned again. Sam rolled him over so that he could breathe as he detransformed. “Any luck with getting through the Media Block?”
It was Tucker’s turn to groan. He leaned back so far that he fell onto the floor, but he didn’t care. “No! I don’t know how they’re doing it, but outside news can come in, but nothing’s able to go out.”
That particular issue has gotten a lot of people up in arms. Just after the Ghost Portal was opened, the US Government sent a privately funded branch - the Ghost Investigation Ward, GIW for short and Guys In White for shits and giggles - to contain it. Instead of containing or shutting down the portal, they decided to put the entire down on a soft lock-in, meaning that anything can come in but almost nothing can go out.
The G.I.W. is a branch of the Bureau of Normalcy. Bureau of Normalcy is an organization dedicated to the weaponization or eradication of entities they deem to be odd. Basically government funded war crimes. So no different than what the government normally does, just with a different name. The G.I.W. are the offshoot that specializes in dealing with ghosts.
Getting rid of the G.I.W. is basically number two on the priority list. Once they’re gone, the Media Block will go with them, so will most of the property damage and about a third of Danny’s stress. Sabotaging his parents’ tech so that it’s safer for all parties comes in at a very close second, with making sure the living and dead don’t destroy each other.
“On a slightly different topic,” Sam said, “How have the protections on the Portal been coming along?”
Another project Danny’s been working on in what little spare time he has. Since getting his powers, he’s joined Sam in reading up on different kinds of magic, going so far as to start looking into the greater occult community. That’s when he came up with the idea of putting protection runes around and on the Ghost Portal. Unfortunately, the runes have to be both a specific type and insanely supercharged in order to work on or near the portal. He hasn’t managed to find the right runes and nothing has been helpful. Another reason to reach out to the Justice League, actually.
Originally, he’d wanted to ask the Justice League for advice and maybe for help from any actual magic users they know. He was perfectly fine, brushing off what he’d been born learning and using those skills, but he was born to kill, not save, so advice from actual heroes would’ve been nice. Unfortunately, the G.I.W. says that he can’t have nice things, so he doesn’t.
Leaving the town was an option that everyone had, but no one was willing to uproot their entire lives because the government got a little bit pissy and don’t know how to listen to their people.
“Not good,” he told her, “The runes keep blowing up in my face.”
“Have you asked any of the ghosts?” Tucker hadn’t bothered to get off of the floor, but he was still working at getting through the Media Block.
Danny shook his head. “None of them are helpful. They won’t listen to me unless we’re fighting and, I don’t know if you know this, but asking about magic runes isn’t really the thing I’m thinking about while trying to save people.”
Sam rubbed her forehead, her eyes closed. “Alright, I’ll look through my grandma’s books again to see if we can find something.” She sighed. “This would be so much easier if we could actually contact someone.”
“I’m working on it!” Tucker snapped, “These guys have something that keeps changing the code on me and it’s near impossible to work through! The second I put even a crack in their firewalls, it fills itself up! How the hell am I supposed to get around a living firewall?”
“Sorry, Tuck,” Sam said, “I know you’ve been working your ass off on that.”
He laughed humorlessly, “That’s an understatement if I’ve ever heard one.”
The three delved into silence, working on their own projects. Tucker was doing his best against the Media Block, Sam was looking everywhere for protection runes strong enough to work on the Portal, and Danny was adding entries to his Catalogue Des Fantômes.
He was on page nineteen of the notebook, the last entry having been Youngblood. There was only one entry that wasn’t actually a ghost, though, but Danny always skilled over that page when he could. Freakshow, theRingmaster of Circus Gothica scared the ever loving shit out of Danny. He hated not being in control of himself. He hated the memory lapses when he was under someone else's influence. He hated that he hurt his friends.
The page he was working on was for the blob ghosts. They were low-threats and adorable. They also made wonderful informants, being able to fly far and fast and listen and relay without being caught. The only problem was that he was pretty sure only other ghosts could see and understand the little blobs.
“It’s been really quiet recently, don’t you think?” Tucker said after about an hour of quietly doing their own thing.
“What do you mean?” Sam asked.
“It’s just been…quiet,” he explained, “Not a lot has been happening. Like, at first, there were attacks every day, but it’s Sunday and Youngblood was the only ghost to attack.”
Danny sat up, coming to the same realization as Tucker. “Oh, no,” he said, catching the other twos’ attention.
“What? What’s wrong?”
“You spoke it into existence.”
“Huh?”
“You said it’s been quiet; Now something’s gonna-!” He was cut off by a rumble that shook the mansion. Swearing, Danny transformed into Phantom and flew out of the window. He didn’t get very far before noticing what was wrong. Sam and Tucker both joined him at the window.
“Holy shit.” Sam muttered.
Tucker nodded. “What the hell?”
The sky, previously a clear blue, was now swirls of toxic green and black. Everything was dimmer, despite the amount of lights in the town. The clouds were all gone, replaced with nothing that was so glaringly obvious that the trio found themselves feeling agoraphobic. The biggest change, though, was that they were now on an island. Where there had been fields stretching on forever just a few minutes ago, there was now a drop into a fading green to black void. Also, everything was tinted purple.
Phantom was quick to regain himself. He flew back to his house because this wasn’t right. Why was Amity Park in the Infinite Realms? How was Amity Park in the Infinite Realms? Both questions he needed answers to yesterday.
As he passed, he saw people freaking out, running around like chickens with their heads cut off to find someone who might have an answer.
Red Huntress was out and about, so he flew to her as fast as he could. “Get everyone to calm down!” he shouted over the noise of everyone screaming below them.
She glared at him. “What the hell is going on?” she demanded.
Now, he and Red have never quite gotten along. Sure, they’ve worked together, but him knowing her and her not knowing him was really the only thing stopping them from getting along perfectly. At least she’d stopped trying to turn him into the G.I.W.
“I don’t know,” he answered, “But I’m gonna find out. As soon as I do, I’ll tell you!” She nodded and was off to work damage control.
It took another few minutes before Phantom was at his house. Using both invisibility and intangibility, he flew down into the lab, vacant of any occupants, and went straight to the Portal. The Portal that was now an empty shell of bad memories. There was no power running through it.
“What..?” He turned on a dime, Plasmius now directly behind him. “What did you do?”
The older ghost clicked his tongue and shook his head. “What makes you think I did this? You have such a low opinion of me?”
“Yes.”
“Shame.”
“Am I wrong?” The silence spoke for itself. “What the hell did you do, Vlad.”
“Now, now, Daniel, no need to be so hostile.”
“Really? ‘Cause we’re no longer on Earth, dipshit.”
“Language, Daniel.”
“My name is ‘Danyal’, asshole.”
“That’s what I said,” he smirked, “Daniel.”
He stopped himself from starting a physical altercation and took a deep breath. “Just tell me what happened so that I can go clean up after you again.”
“I did not cause-”
“Just shut the fuck up and tell me what happened!”
“Well, that’s quite the contradiction or requests-”
Danny threw his hands in the air and left Plasmius in the lab. He didn’t have time for Vlad’s pathetic attempt at mind games! He had shit to figure out and people to help calm down.
“Walking away in the middle of a conversation?” Plasmius caught up easily, “How rude. Where did you learn your manners?”
“Maybe if you’d actually be helpful for once in your goddamn existence, then I’d be more inclined to stay and chat for a moment. As it stands, though, you’re doing a shit job of being mayor. Your people are freaking the fuck out and you’re here antagonizing me. Now, if you really wanna have a conversation, you can tell me what you did.”
Plasmius was quiet for a moment. Then, he admitted, “The King.”
Phantom blinked. “That what?”
“The King.”
“You don’t mean the King-King, right? The one that all the blob ghosts weaned me about? The one I’m sure you were also warned about? That King?” He asked, “Because I can hear the capitalization in your voice, Plasmius, and if you woke up the one guy that could actually destroy the world, then I’m gonna beat your ass and feed your head to a duck.”
The older man had the audacity to look sheepish. “I took his ring. He didn’t like that, so he woke up.”
Phantom groaned, dragging his hands down his face. Taking an unnecessary and deep breath, he said, “Here’s what’s gonna happen. You’re gonna go down there and explain exactly what the hell you did. I don’t care if you blame yourself as Vlad or if you blame yourself as Plausmius, but they need to know. You also need to do your damn job and calm them the fuck down. I am going to figure out how to fix this because you will only get in my way.” He flew away.
Gods, Danny doesn’t get paid nearly enough for this.
*
For the first time since he’d died, Danny was scared for his life. He was all alone, stepping up to fight the King of Ghosts; A powerful deity who rules over the Realms of the dead and the living and everything in-between. He’s got the power to pull an entire city into the Realm Between. He could probably destroy the Living Realms if he so chose to!
And Danny was challenging him to a fight. With no back up. And no hope for medical because he didn’t tell anyone he was going to be fighting the King. If he makes it out of this no more dead than he already was, he’s going to sleep for a week. Everyone else can just stop bothering him.
He stepped up to the steps of Pariah’s Keep. The building was huge, red, glowing, and beyond imposing. It looked like every horrible aspect of every castle was shoved into one and painted to look like it was coated in the blood of the Living.
He’s never been nervous for a fight before.
Danny steeled himself, shoving his fear into the deepest recesses of his mind, and started up the stairs. He could feel eyes on him, but he didn’t know where they were from. He ignored them, letting his transformation wash over him as he walked. All the ghosts knew who he was anyway, so he didn’t feel the need to hide his transformation from them.
He stepped into the great hall, a black and red throne standing proudly on a raised dais at the end of the room. The reflective obsidian floor looked like a void of nothing, the light from the torches on the walls seemed to be absorbed into the void.
Pariah Dark, King of Ghosts, stood tall at the bottom of the dais. His skin was white, his hair and eyes toxic green, his armor black and gray, his cape black and red. The belt and sash he wore both had skulls on them, and he had a longsword on his hip that had a matching skill pommel.
“You are foolish to come here alone.” The King looked down his nose at him. His voice boomed through the room, but he didn’t raise it.
Phantom had adjusted his own outfit, making it look more like what the older assassins wore in Nanda Parbat. He had several knives hidden around his person, his katana on his left hip, a rapier on his right hip, and a tanto on his back.
“I am more concerned for the safety of my home than the safety of myself. Bringing anyone with me would’ve put them at risk.”
The King sneered. “You are foolish, child. Connections such as those will only drag you down. Cut them, and you will only grow stronger.”
“Y’know, my Grandfather used to tell me something similar when I was a child.”
“Your Grandfather was a wise man.”
“High praise coming from you, you’re majesty. You wouldn’t happen to know who he is, do you?”
“You smell of the Pits; Lifeblood of the Between Realm that has found its way into the Living Realms. You do not have the anger to have been submerged, but you have been around them.” The King stated, “Tell me, where were you born, K̴͔̑͘u̸̙͌̋͠m̴̬̯̤̄͗̊̚m̷̹̜̟̣̈ḯ̴͚͕̙̗̥̀t̸͚̠̭̣͎̒̄u̷̺̹̫̅͑ṡ̷̞͆l̶̝̈́̌̅a̶̹̪̎̇̈̈̓p̸͎̬͖̺͊̾̽͜š̶̞̤̞͐͗͝?”
Despite knowing that that was not a language he had learned, he knew what was said. “L̵̤̞͎̓ử̷͈͉̫̆͊͠m̵̡͓̣͂͋e̵̩̹̼̠̬͆͑ ̴͈̦͒͒ő̸͓̀̂͘r̵̞̰̠̟̓̓ǧ̵̛͈̜̪͋,” he answered, “V̴̯͓̀a̸̼̩̐̉r̷̪͂j̸̛͕̼̈́͌u̶͔̐͌d̴͓͍̀̍͝e̵̤̐ ̵͉̖̅̃ͅǫ̸̹̩̅͌r̸̢̙̕͜ġ̷̦͝, The living call it Nanda Parbat.”
“A̶̧̞̯̓ḷ̶̡͕̰̫̏a̴̛̤̲͔̅̄́͝s̸̝̔͑t̴̫̏̉͋i̶̢̼͈̪̎̂́̕ ̷̼͉̐͌͊̑̾m̶̯̹͔̺͂̀͜ḁ̷͍̟͇̞̈̀̒͆͝͠g̵͈͚̹̽ĭ̶̪̰̿̒,” King Pariah repeated, “I am familiar with that place. You say you were born there?”
“Correct.”
“Do you fight to protect, or do you fight to rule?”
“I fight to protect.”
“Alright, T̶̨͇͋͌͆͌́ä̸͇̰͓̿h̷̥̓͌͋̈̔̓t̴̗̻͚͈͚̺̓́̔e̴̢̯̱̓̄̎̾̆ḑ̷̬̔ḛ̷̱̭̙̪͑̃͌̓͐ ̵̭̯͔̈̈̇̓̕̕l̶̜̞̺̜̦̋̿̄͒͊a̶̢̼͈͆p̶͓̟̱̣̉š̶̹͋̄̕͝,” he drew his sword, Danny did the same. “I will display your banner amongst your kin.” The fight began.
Phantom and Pariah crossed blades in the middle of the room. The King had both hands on the hilt of his, pushing his weight into where the metal clashed. Phantom was wielding his katana, his left hand open and prepared to either go for a dagger or join his right hand on the katana. After a few moments of struggle, the two pushed away, evenly matched for strength.
Again, Pariah made the first move, lunging at Phantom with a burst of flight to speed him up. They crossed blades, but didn’t hold as the large ghost spun around to strike at Phantom from behind. Phantom met his blade with the dagger that fell from his sleeve into his hand. The nerve damage transferred between forms, making the grip on the dagger slip. He slid Pariah’s blade away to cover the fault, though he was nicked in the arm. He didn’t feel it.
As he slid the sword, Phantom’s katana reached to hit Pariah. The blade grazed off the armor, ringing with the force. Phantom was forced to dodge away to save the blade. He was quick to stash it, bushing the dagger back up his sleeve and pulling the rapier from its place on his hip.
Pariah feinted around Phantom’s jab, getting close stabbing at his thigh. He managed a graze before having to pull back in a dodge. Phantom’s rapier caught Pariah's cape, tearing through it and pulling it off of his shoulders. Growling, he pulled the rest of the fabric off, discarding it quickly.
The two stood apart from each other. The floor remained spotless and the torches undisturbed. The two halves of the cape laid at the feet of the two.
“You duel well,” The King commended.
Phantom nodded in thanks. “I do not have nearly your experience, however I was born with a weapon in my hand.”
Again, they met blades in the middle, green sparks flying off at the initial contact. Phantom was quick to slip another dagger into his hand, pushing his enemy’s blade up so he could get in close. As soon as he did, he shoved the dagger into the gap between the ghost’s chest plate and twisted.
Pariah cried out and threw Phandom away from him, the younger ghost hitting the wall before landing on the floor in a crouch. He pulled the dagger from his gut, the thing only inhibiting his movement. Like Phantom, he did not heal.
Switching his weapon again, Phantom lunged forward first with matching daggers in his hands. Pariah kept both blades away with his own, nimbly moving away when he could afford to and kicking when he could not. Finally, he knocked both dagger’s from Phantom’s hands and stabbed through the ghost child’s left hand.
The phantom pain from nerves that no longer worked caused Phantom to scream. He gritted his teeth and grabbed the blade with his other hand, cutting it, and wrapped his legs around Pariah’s arm. The older ghost grunted, lifting his sword and Phantom together. He raised him above his head before slamming him back down into the floor. Again, Phantom screamed, but he began to pull the longsword from The King’s hand.
Raising his arm and slamming Phantom back into the ground over and over again, Pariah didn’t notice his grip on his blade was loosening until Phantom had pulled it from him entirely. In a show of strength, the sword was thrown to the other side of the throne room. It stabbed into the wall, the edge chipping and rolling in several different places.
“You brat!” The King roared. Phantom let go of his arm, flipping away and landing in a crouch near the wall. Pariah gave chase, throwing punches when he got close. Soon, the battle was taken to the air, both parties flying.
Pariah Dark fought like a brawler, all heavy hits and weighted punches. He liked to stay firmly in place when he hit, being too big to outrun his opponent.
Phantom, on the other hand, fought like a snake, relying on speed and flexibility. He used the daggers hidden on his person to wear his opponent down. He was always on the move, depending heavily on outlasting whoever he was fighting.
The King grabbed the ghost child by his neck, squeezing hard enough that Phantom heard a creak, pain radiating from where his bones would be. “You have lost.”
Phantom smirked, “Not quite,” he said. He kicked up, knocking Pariah in the chin, and punched his elbow, flying out of range when the grip on his neck loosened. He gasped for air on habit, green blood leaking from his mouth.
Pariah stood at his full height. “Why do you fight, Ț̷̿̇̾͘a̴̘̪̘̥͖͈͆s̵͙̎̃̍̋͊͜á̴̟̲̰̲̃̓̎͘͠k̵̡̰̖̝̳̑̄a̸̹̹̮͊͆͛̆̈́̕a̶̙̝̭͔̘̪̿̓̃̍̊̾͜͝l̸̨̞͎̫̮̅u̸͓̒́́͆͋̇͠ ̶̛̺̰̦͔̞͖̯͇͑͆̔͝l̶̨̛̖̝̫̭̱̿̃̊̿̉͘̕å̴̢̯͍p̶̡̢̬̩̣̃̏̓̾͋̈̔s̷̱͎̄̅ͅ?”
“To protect,” Phantom glared, “T̵̳̪̂̌̎y̵̛̭̻̖̽r̴̹̰̗͝ḁ̸͚̟̈̆n̴͔̞͊̈͑ṅ̷̝̂-̷̼͙̼̏̃k̴̛̙̣̠͑û̶̘͍̞ň̷͈͇̲ỉ̶̛̗̺͜͝n̸͐̈́͜͠g̴̼̀ä̸̞͙̲́s̶͎̬͙̀͒.”
The King laughed, the sound wet as green blood fell from his mouth and cuts, his chestplate being stained by the stuff. “You will End if you keep that foolish mindset.”
Phantom smirked. “Maybe,”
Pariah’s eyes closed, his entire being losing its glow. Slowly, he disappeared, leaving behind a small ball of fire. Over the orb was his crown, the green fire fading from the black metal. A small black ring joined them on the floor.
He waited for several minutes, staring at the small orb, the ring, and the crown. Then, he fell to his knees with a smile. “I…I did it.” His smile grew to a grin. “I did it!”
Translation 1 - French: Ghost Catalog
Translation 2 - Estonian & Zalgo: Ghost Child
Translation 3 - Estonian & Zalgo: Valley of Snow … Valley of Shadows
Translation 4 - Estonian & Zalgo: Naked Mountain
Translation 6 - Estonian & Zalgo: Child of the Stars
Translation 7 - Estonian & Zalgo: Child of Balance
Translation 8 - Estonian & Zalgo: Tyrant King
Part 8 Part 10