Eulogy

August 21, 2010 -  Salem, MA

The Tower of Fate

16:09:12

“Kent Nelson didn’t need a magic helmet to be a hero.” Black Canary said as she stood before assembled heroes, their brightly colored costumes muted in the gloom of a late summer rainstorm. Everyone whose costume didn’t lend itself to funereal solemnity had added a black armband for the occasion. The mourners were assembled on a hillside cemetery on the outskirts of Salem, and the Tower of Fate loomed over them. It was in a different spot than it had been before, and Connor knew it could move, among its other powers. But it still felt strange, to have it there, a silent sentinel at the grave side of its former occupier.

“He dedicated his life and gave that life, to safeguard this world from evil. He fought battles we’ll never know against things we could never understand. The world owes him a debt, which it can, and never will now, repay. But we, his friends and comrades, gather here to lay him to rest.” She continued, wiping at a tear when she finished. “May he finally find rest with his beloved Inza.”

Connor winced, shutting his eyes against the sight of the grave.

When she had finished her eulogy, Canary moved over to stand with the contingent from the Justice Guild who had come to pay their respects; herself, Zatarra, Hawkwoman, Martian Manhunter, Wonder Woman, Batwoman and Aquawoman. Green Arrow was also present, but he stood off to the side, next to Apollo.

Connor glanced to his other side, where Robin, Aqualass, and Ms. Martian stood, heads bowed, near to him. Kid stood on the other side of the grave site from the team and the Guild. 

With the Justice Society of Columbia.

Those who were still alive, anyway.

Kid was next to her aunt and uncle, and her aunt’s parents. Jenny Quick was an older woman with grey hair, but she still fit into her Golden Age costume. A scarlet short sleeved unitard with yellow leggings, and matching scarlet boots and gloves. She wore a half mask that let her hair flow freely and a pair of aviator goggles pushed up on her forehead. Next to her was a broad shouldered, older man in tan jodhpurs and a blue tunic with a silver bell embroidered in the middle, red elbow length gloves, blue turned down boots and a domino mask, who Connor knew was her husband, Liberty Bill. The only person here out of costume was the handsome man with red brown hair, in a dark suit and dark purple tie standing next to Jesse and Kid, with his hand on Kid’s shoulder.

Connor recognized him from the morning news program in Central City, as well as family photos on the walls when he had stayed with the Wests; Ira West, Jesse’s husband and news reporter. And crucially, Walli’s maternal uncle.

They look more silver age now. Damn, old superheroes are still kicking. They don’t look bad for technically being as old as Nelson. But according to the Quick Museum exhibit, the whole All-Star Squadron team spent thirty years fighting Hitler and an army of frost giants in Asgard after the war, and didn’t age there. Nelson wasn’t a part of that… adventure.

Which is completely insane when I think of it…

The Quick Family were a single unit, but other JSC members were still around, but not many. Robotman stood, utterly still, a hulking Art Deco robot in copper plating, but wearing an old leather jacket over it. His eyes glowed with a dim red light as he stared at the grave. The well past middle aged woman but still well muscled woman in the cat costume and handwraps next to him could only be Wildcat. Briefly he wondered why Hawkwoman wasn’t standing with the JSC, but he realized quickly that this Hawkwoman was different from the one from the All-Star Squadron. A different reincarnation, he guessed.

This is the most superheroes I’ve ever met at one time. He thought bitterly. And its for a funeral.

He sighed, raking his fingers back through his rain soaked hair. He had left the Jacket at home, and put on a simple black leather jacket he had picked up at the mall with Walli back in Central City. Putting on the scarlet Jacket had seemed disrespectful for a funeral, though he noted the others hadn’t let it stop them from showing their colors.

I guess they have to. Some of these people fought in WW2 and have saved the world in their costumes. And I’m too embarrassed to be seen in public in spandex…

He was trying to distract himself. Unlike everyone else here, he had been there to hold Kent Nelson as he died, and hear his last words. And further words beyond that, trapped within the Helmet of Fate with Nelson’s spirit. They were here to honor a friend, a comrade, a man some of them had known all their lives.

And I knew him for five minutes, and got to watch him die.

Connor was used to death. He had gotten used to his own before it had finally arrived. Spending half his childhood in a children’s oncology ward had let him see plenty of people pass away, and attend some of their funerals. Some of them had fought it. Others, like him, had accepted the inevitable. Nobody had ever seemed as relieved as Kent Nelson had been. 

He read the inscription on the headstone, an ankh ornamenting the top of it.

Kent Nelson. Husband. Hero.

Inza Nelson. Beloved Wife. Inspiration.

The date under Inza’s name told Connor exactly why Nelson had been so relieved, and looking around at the scant few peers of his still left to come to his funeral told the rest.

Kent was done. Ready to move on. But he stayed in the Helmet, to save me. Connor thought, guilt washing over him. But he let it pass like a wave rolling back to the sea; Nelson wasn’t worried about it. He had eternity to look forward to, and to spend with Inza. Wherever that was going to be.

He felt a kinship with Nelson, which felt strange for a man who’d lived such a full life and was older than his grandparents. They had both been ready to take the next step. He was also grateful to him, and the weight of the bargain he had struck with Nabu weighed heavily on his soul. It had only been two days, but he was already fretting about finding a new candidate to become Dr. Fate. 

Connor pushed those worries aside, and remained at the grave side, even as the others began to trickle away in one’s and two’s. His friends left with their mentors, and the Quick Family departed together. Each gave him a nod or a pat on the shoulder, and he smiled and waved them off. Eventually it was just him, standing at the grave side, etching the moment into his memory palace. The cool evening air, the rain, the lush green grass of the cemetery, and the looming tower keeping vigil. Nelson’s words came to him again.

“Have faith…”

He didn’t know if he had faith anymore. Faith had always seemed about believing things you didn’t have evidence for. Now it seemed like he had evidence of too many things. Reincarnation, for one. Nelson had been sure he was going to an afterlife with Inza, though. Connor wasn’t sure how to square those things together. 

Maybe its multiple choice? You pick the next step you prefer? I guess if someone had offered me this as one of the options, I would have taken it.

That thought brought a smile to his face. It was like a dream come true, this new life of his. But from where he was standing, it seemed like the dream world of the comics didn’t quite match the reality. He could feel the weight of it, now. Everything had seemed easy to doubt, before Nelson had told him what had happened to him. Acknowledging that he had died and been reincarnated made it more real. There was an explanation, even if he didn’t know the why or how of it yet.

Holding Kent Nelson as he died brought it into a stark and unmistakable focus. This was his life now, and the things he did here really mattered. People would live and die by his ability to help them. There was no unseen writer deciding Superboy was too powerful to fail to save someone, or it wouldn’t match the tone of a series for him to let them down. 

Connor’s mouth twisted down as he considered the grave.

“I’m sorry. I should have done something more. I jumped in front of a bullet for Robin last week, but I didn’t react in time. I just didn’t hear him coming.” He confessed, words failing him. “But you ended up saving me. Thank you for that. I’ll find a new host, I promise you. It won’t have been for nothing.”

He bowed his head as he made the vow, and he swore he could feel the weight of binding fetters settle around his wrists for a moment. The words didn’t seem like enough, despite how flippantly Nelson’s spirit had regarded the whole thing with. He could still feel the slight weight of the body in his hands as Nelson breathed his last. That was a new experience for him with death; to hold the other person, and to castigate himself for having been able to do more but failing to do so.

I don’t think he’s coming back with a retcon, either. From what he said, it doesn’t seem like people come back from the dead much here. Going to have to keep that in mind. Death is still, usually, death here. Even when you’re invulnerable.

“Connor? Are you alright?” 

He turned to see Diana coming back up the hillside, skin shining with the rain wetting it. Her lustrous black curls shone brighter with the wetness, but she didn’t seem to mind it at all as she came up beside him.

“Hey, Diana. I’m okay. Just saying goodbye.” 

Her crystal blue eyes filled with warmth, and she wrapped him up in a surprising hug. She was warm and enveloping, which contrasted with the hard and cool pieces of her armored costume. She held the embrace for a while, and eventually he gave in and returned it. She let him go and then stood beside him, gazing down at the headstone. Diana was quiet for a moment as she stood beside him in the rain.

“He was a good man, and a wise sorcerer. And a worthy comrade. He filled his life with love, and I know he looked forward to reuniting with Inza. It is the most any of us can ask. And he leaves behind a legacy, one that he passed into your keeping.” She said softly, but with utter surety.

He nodded, feeling the weight of that responsibility settle on his shoulders. Diana briefly added her comforting hand to the burden as well.

“You should be proud as well as grateful. We spoke of what passed between Kent, yourself and Nabu in the Helmet. The Lord of Order had no just cause to keep you, and rest assured, the Guild would not have let him do so. But Dr. Fate is a powerful ally against evil. Nabu was not wrong; Terra does need Dr. Fate.” Diana said, squeezing his shoulder.

“I’m worried.” Connor admitted, eyes fixed on the ankh topping the gravestone. “Is he going to try to do that to whoever I pick? I have to tell them what happened to me when I put the Helmet on. Who's going to want to take the job if it means being Dr. Fate for the rest of their life?”

“Then you will have to find a candidate who has the right affinity, but also the strength of character to bear that duty. It is good that you are thinking of the risks, the knowledge and the full consent of any candidate. That you do proves Kent was correct to choose you to discharge this duty.”

He glanced at her, and Diana gave him a reassuring smile that warmed his heart. It made bearing the burden that much easier, knowing he had her approval. 

“Thanks Diana.” 

“You are welcome, Connor. Are you done?” She asked without expectation.

Connor hesitated for a moment before answering her.

“I also feel guilty. I was right there, I could have taken the hit. But I didn’t notice Klarion, and then-”

“Stop.” Diana commanded, and the force of her words caused him to do just that. She moved in front of him and held his face between her hands, looking into his eyes. His cheeks warmed at her touch, and he told himself that was just the transfer from her hands. Her crystal blue eyes seemed endless.

“You cannot save everyone, Connor Clark. I can’t, nor can any of us. We have all failed in the past, and we will continue to fail. It is part of the burden of what we do. It is not an easy burden to bear, and that is why you need a mentor. Someone who has experienced that, and can help you process it. To help raise you up, so you are strong enough to bear it. Your friends have their own support, but you came to our world alone. That is why I offered to be your mentor, to train you to become the hero I know you can be.”

She spoke the words with both steely calm and a warm sincerity, and he was forced to admit the heat in his cheeks was not from the touch of her hands. A fire lit inside of him to hear the confidence she had in him, and the help she freely offered. The intensity in her gaze made him want to look away, but he steeled himself to meet her eyes, and nodded.

Diana smiled, and let go of his face. Absently, he touched a hand to his cheek, feeling the warmth. He caught a trace of her scent from their closeness. She smelled like fresh rain and a sweet, earthy scent like resin. He sighed a bit as he inhaled it.

“Now, do not let guilt poison you anymore. Kent Nelson was my friend and ally, and he died in battle against the forces of evil. As he knew he would one day, but he survived those battles far longer than most. He is at peace with his death, you have heard it from his spirit yourself. You will honor him better by becoming a hero his equal or greater, and by discharging the oath you made to Nabu. You bear no guilt in this; it lies with the Witch Boy alone.”

Connor took a deep breath and nodded.

I knew all that, intellectually. But Diana actually knew Nelson. Hearing it from her takes a load off. Having her as a mentor is probably a really good idea. I’m keeping so much close to my vest. Being able to confide in her feels… good.

“All better?” She asked with a tilt of her head and a warm smile.

“Yeah, I think I am.” He said with a small smile back.

“Then let us depart this necropolis, and speak of other matters.” She said as she turned to walk down the hill, and he followed. She was silent as they left the gates of the cemetery. Some of the others had gotten into cars or simply flown away, but she led him towards a now familiar empty lot in nearby Darby Square. It was the lot where they had originally found the Tower of Fate, now truly empty with that arcane building’s departure. But something drew his eye to the center of the lot, and he couldn’t make sense of what he saw.

There was something in that empty lot, rain pattering on it and leaving a drier spot beneath. He squinted, focusing his super vision to see into the infrared. It revealed nothing, but when he switched to microscopic and focused on the dry spot and the air above it, he saw water droplets beading on something in mid air. He gasped as he guessed what it was. His excitement began to grow.

“I wanted to ask you to come spend the week in Washington, with me. My schedule has finally cleared up enough to dedicate serious time to your training and mentoring. You can get a feel for how I work, both as a hero and an ambassador. I think it will be a good experience for both of us. After the end of your mission, and today, I believe you could use some time away.” Diana said, and as they approached the strange distortion in the air, it began to slowly reveal itself, panel by panel.

The air shimmered with distortion as first at the nose of the craft, which then propagated down its length. It was like some giant artist was filling in the body of the craft like a paint by numbers piece. The vehicle revealed itself as a stark white, sleek aircraft with organic lines. It had a long arrow shaped body and swept forward wings at the back, with a pair of vertical tails over bulbous twin engines at the base of the wings. It was larger than most fighter jets, and rested on three flat footed landing legs. Connor practically vibrated with excitement.

“I would love to.” He said, giddy, only keeping from shouting with a quick tamping down of his enthusiasm.