MW: Yo! Here is the first part of chapter ten. Please enjoy, and review! If you got questions, PM or review! Thanks.

WARNING: If you are either younger than eighteen, unable to handle graphic scenes, or just incredibly sensitive to violence, nudity and sexual themes, please skip over the entirety of Astra's italicized part. Matter of fact, don't skip it. You can handle it. It's necessary for the story. FOR THE PLOT! No, but in all seriousness, if you are any of those things, skip it. There's a reason I changed the rating to M. Thanks.

10 - Heavenly Voice, Hellish Embrace Part I

When Hunter was offered power by Halston Balestrom, he figured that it was a one time thing. That Balestrom would just...shoot the power into him or something. Granted, he didn't know much about magic then, and was only twelve. He didn't expect to be able to sit with the other students in the classroom and learn with them. He didn't expect to have a dorm room that he would end up sharing with a girl who he came to love-at least, before she went missing.

When Hunter was offered power, he didn't think that he was going to be seeing Talon again. The whole reason he'd accepted the offer was because he wanted to save his brother, but every time, he realized that Talon had a life sentence. A life sentence. The prison wardens eventually took away Talon's privilege to have visitors because people would always want to talk to him and he didn't seem to be "learning his lesson". Hunter hated himself for it, but he let go of Talon and forged his own path in remembrance and honor of his brother, whom he would never see again.

That's what he thought. Initially, at least.

Yet here he was, standing in Headmaster Ambrose's office, staring at a boy with shaggy black hair and flashing crimson eyes who Ambrose had clearly referred to as "Talon".

Were his ears deceiving him? Was he driving himself insane? Was this guilt? Had Sabrina's disappearance triggered something in him that caused him to hallucinate people he loved? What the hell was this?

No, no, it couldn't be Talon. Talon had a life sentence. Talon was in prison. He was never going to see Talon again. It was just someone who looked like him. Yeah, that's it. Had to be.

If that was the case, then that meant…

Aliens were real. Extraterrestrial-or rather, extra-Spiral-galaxy life existed. Of course, people on Earth were technically aliens, but they were familiar with the inhabitants of the Spiral. Or maybe the Spiral was familiar with the inhabitants of Earth. Whatever. The appearance of this alien before him only meant that there was life on other galaxies, and that life could galaxy hop, imitate behaviors and mannerisms to the nth degree and possibly wipe out all other races.

"Meet you all in Briskbreeze," the Talon-like thing said in resignation before teleporting out of the room.

Hunter was the second one to teleport out. In fact, he had the entrance of Briskbreeze marked, as he would simply stand in front of the gates. Was it to recollect? Maybe. Was it just simply for nostalgia? Maybe. Hunter was never quite sure why he did it, he just knew that he did. He loved his brother and was never able to completely process losing him.

He arrived at the entrance to the prison in a flash of purple and gold, greeted by the Talon look alike. "What are you?" Hunter hissed impulsively.

Talon shrugged. "I'm a wizard, I think," he responded sarcastically. "Who are you?"

Hunter gave the alien a hateful glare. "I'm Hunter." He paused before deciding to skip straight to the point. "Do you know a Talon Bloodbane? No, to hell with it-you do know a Talon Bloodbane, I know you do. What did you do to him?"

"I am Talon Bloodbane," Talon exclaimed, slightly taken aback. The conversation remained uninterrupted even as who he figured was the Thaumaturge trudged over towards them.

"Talon Bloodbane has a life sentence," Hunter responded.

"Ambrose bailed me out. Six years of nonsensical punishment for nothing and I get out."

"You're lying." The grass was surprisingly green that day, and served to draw Hunter's attention as he waited for a response from Talon.

"Ask him yourself, then, asshole," Talon responded angrily. "I deal with pricks like you all the time, and frankly, I've had enough. I just want to get this training-this war-over with and then I'm taking my brother somewhere else."

Hunter gritted his teeth. He didn't have to ask Ambrose himself, because there was one more thing he could ask that would reveal the truth. One more thing. "Fine then. Tell me-is Astra coming back?"

It had seemed the rest of the team members had caught up by now and were standing around lazily, waiting for Talon's instructions.

The Necromancer was, however, enraptured by his own memories, and his eyes grew bloodshot, a tear finding its way down his cheek and to his chin. "No," he whispered. After a long pause and a sickening amount of silence slithered through the tension, Talon asked, "...Are you my brother?"

Hunter felt a plethora of emotions demolish his train of thought, and he stumbled into the embrace Talon presented to him, his chest tightening. "I am," the Diviner exclaimed. "I am!"

Talon pushed Hunter away, gripping the younger brother's shoulders as he inquired, "You didn't do anything stupid while I was gone, did you?" He brushed a hand across his face, wiping away the tears.

Hunter shook his head, smiling slightly. "I didn't, Talon." Well, so much for aliens existing. Hunter felt a pang of anger towards his older sibling for crushing his hopes and dreams, but that slight anger was overwhelmed by his joy. "I mean, I changed my name, but that's all."

Talon paused. "You're Hunter Lioncloud now?" He inquired, a dangerous note in his voice. His eyes have off a dull glow, and Hunter almost felt threatened.

"The team members are here," the younger of the two responded quietly, and Talon tore his attention away from his brother.

"We'll talk later," he said simply.

He stepped back from his brother as Talon prepared himself to greet his team members. They were roughly arranged into a line spreading horizontally, so Hunter simply slid into an open spot next to two redheads.

"So, uh...I guess we'll start with names? Left to right then," Talon exclaimed, clearing his throat before his voice cracked. He first pointed at the trio on the far left. "You're starting," he declared.

"I'm Will," the tallest wizard chirped, waving his hand eagerly. He looked older than Talon (excluding the fact that his hair was a horrendous blend of colors), but was clearly far less mature.

"I am Maximillion Goldstar. Pleased to meet you," the shortest of the three exclaimed, stepping forwards and extending his hand to Talon. The Necromancer faltered for a moment before shaking Max's hand slowly. Max smiled and stepped backwards again, taking his position in the trio.

The third wizard-the only of the group with white hair-remained silent for almost a minute before he spoke. "Vincent," he muttered. He gave Talon a sidelong glance before averting his eyes as if repulsed. Hunter noticed that Talon's lips twitches, but surprisingly, the once short-tempered leader managed to muster some self-control and restrain himself.

The large, bulky Draconian next to Vincent sighed in exasperation and simply said, "Why do we gotta do this?" He sounded annoyed.

Talon crossed his arms over his chest. "I don't trust any of you nor do I want to work with you," he began. "But if we're to work together, then you need to cooperate. Got it?" His eyes flashed, and he glared at the Draconian.

The green-scaled Draconian gave a grunt and mumbled, "I'm Eron," his arms hung at his sides and he attempted to give Talon a glare, but faltered midway and instead averted his gaze, choosing to look at the girl next to him.

"I'm Leif," The...girl squeaked out, clutching her staff tightly. Her robes were a soft green blended with shades of brown. "I'm a boy," Leif exclaimed, a bit louder this time, before he shrunk into himself.

Wait, what?

The girl was actually a boy? Or was the girl a boy from the start? How could Hunter be so mistaken? Was he that lonely? Was he that stupid? What?

He shook himself from his daze and turned his attention towards the next girl. He was sure it was a girl.

Hunter glanced at Talon. The look on his face said that he'd met her before. Was it Astra? Hunter leaned forward slightly and looked left. It wasn't Astra; the girl didn't have red hair. It was dyed-like his-but she looked young. Younger than Astra might've looked, were she here, of course.

Wait, did that girl-the one Hunter was looking at-did she just blush? Wow, even Hunter didn't realize he was that attractive. He made to fan himself in an act of narcissism, but paused. Oh, wait, she was looking at Talon. Hunter shrugged.

Talon had only been with one girl before, so it was only logical to let him have this one. Hunter got all the other girls anyways. He was the more attractive one. Not to say Talon wasn't attractive, but since his time in prison, his skin had become calloused and scarred. For instance, a lightning bolt-shaped scar ran from his lower abdomen to his collarbone (which Hunter could see now as Talon scratched his abdomen, casually lifting his shirt in order to better rid himself of what seemed like an itch), and his right arm was covered in various cuts and bite marks. Bite marks? God, what did Talon have to go through in prison? Just what could he do that would cause someone to bite him?

"I'm Mirror," the girl said, turning her nose away and letting out a powerful breath of annoyance. Talon stared at her blankly, before turning to the girl next to her.

"You-" he began, but stopped abruptly, frozen in his position, his jaw hanging low. He looked as if he were about to explode, or at least cry. Talon didn't do either, as both his emotions and thoughts lay in suspended animation. Well, it looked like it.

The redhead that returned his blank stare with one of her own crossed her arms over her chest, and took the initiative, introducing herself. "I'm Astra Drake," she said simply. A small dragon perched on her shoulder and screeched loudly. Astra brushed her index finger against its chin and gave a small smile.

Hunter gawked. Astra? The Astra? Astra Snaketongue was here? What was this? "Astra..?" Hunter asked, feeling like he was missing something. "Is it really you?" He stepped out of his place in the semi-circle they had created and walked over to her.

"No, I'm an alien," she responded, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Hunter would have leapt backwards in surprise if not for her continuing with, "No, I'm Astra. Who are you?"

"Who am I? It's me, Hunter," Hunter exclaimed excitedly. He pointed back towards his brother. "That's-well, you already know who he is; he doesn't look any different. But you may not remember me cause my hair's red." He lifted the hair that hung over his forehead and grinned.

Astra gave him a quizzical stare. "This is the first time I've met you. Don't act like you know me, kid." She responded, a bit more dismissive this time.

"What do you mean..?" Hunter asked, confused. "You know me. You've met me before-we were younger, remember?" He laughed nervously. "You remember, right?"

Astra rolled her eyes. "Look, bud. I don't know you, and I've never met you before. Take this as a warning: I don't like pranks...So I'd advise you to back off."

Hunter opened his mouth in protest, but decided against it and retreated into the line. He said nothing, feeling slightly nauseous. What was that? What the hell? Wasn't that Astra? Why didn't she remember him? What the hell? Hunter glanced at his brother, who looked shaken, but composed enough to continue.

"...R...Right then," Talon exclaimed, his voice noticeably quieter. "You're next, and then...and then I'll go." The Necromancer leading the group pointed to the Thaumaturge, the quiet-looking man whose eyes flicked about cautiously, as if he was trying to discern whether or not he would be attacked.

The birds chirped and the sun bore down on the members of the team, beads of sweat glistening on each of their foreheads.

"James Duskstone. I can function as reconnaissance if need be," He exclaimed, his voice sounding cheerful. Hunter frowned. Something about the Thaumaturge seemed...fake. Robotic, maybe? An alien...What if the Thaumaturge was an alien?

That wasn't implausible.

Hunter pushed this thought out of his head and turned towards Talon. His brother looked...afraid, but continued on anyways.

"I'm...Israfel, but you can call me-"

"What kind of name is Israfel?" Astra asked, interrupting him, her arms crossed over her chest. Hunter could've sworn Talon choked.

This scene was all too familiar...it was very reminiscent of what Astra had said upon meeting Talon and Hunter for the first time. It was the main reason Talon didn't go by his first name. But why now? Why did she have to bring this up now? Why was she here? Why why why?

"It's an old name…" Talon muttered, his eyes finding the ground. He sighed aloud. "Look-I can't at a do this," he concluded and promptly teleported away, presumably to his room.

Hunter decided to step in. "I guess-I guess that concludes the team...meeting for today?" When he received blank stares, he shook his head in dismissal. "We'll try this again tomorrow. For now, just go about your business."

Murmurs of "what's his problem?" and "why'd I have to get put on this team?" surfaced throughout the crowd as they dispersed, and Hunter swallowed painfully. Astra…what the hell was this? He ran a hand over his face in disbelief before deciding he had more than just a few questions for Ambrose.

"What the hell?!"

Ambrose stared at the man before him in mild amusement, wondering silently how a descendant of Thalomir-a person who could retain composure even during war-was so moody and...insatiable. Alas, Valdus was very similar as well, so it was not too surprising to watch Talon bounce back and forth like a child.

"You put her in my team? Astra? A girl who I used to love, a girl who tried to kill me and the same girl who left me all those years ago? What the hell, man?!"

"I did," Ambrose responded calmly, resisting the urge to burst into a fit of laughter.

"Why? You knew this would happen, so why would you-" Talon protested.

Ambrose suddenly became more serious, and raised a finger to silence the Necromancer. "You only acted that way because of your inability to control your emotions. Did the Draconian woman not teach you well enough?" A hint of triumph lingered in his voice but the more experienced wizard vanquished it immediately.

"How do you know about-" Talon stopped abruptly. "If you know she affects me in such a way-if you know she doesn't remember-then why bother making me the leader of a team she's on?"

"You need her, my boy." Cryptic as always. Sometimes Ambrose particularly enjoyed toying with the students. But it helped them. Or at least, he figured it did. A large majority of his students were more mature than their age would've allowed or made them out to be, and that mindset was required in days like these.

"What's that supposed to mean..?" Talon asked, faltering momentarily. "What-you can't be talking about how I…" He choked on his words. "...how I used to love her? When we were kids?"

Ambrose coughed. "Am I wrong in believing that you still feel the same?"

Talon opened his mouth to protest, but fell silent instead. Silence hung in the air between the two, and when Talon spoke again, his voice was soft and quiet. "How do you know about that?" The Necromancer averted his eyes. Even though he was nearly twenty, he was still fragile and afraid. He hadn't asked for any of this.

A part of him just wanted to return to the life he had when his mother was alive and still married to his father. When Astra would play with him and his feelings would go unnoticed. When Hunter would follow his older brother around like a lost puppy and wasn't so mature.

It hurt.

Ambrose did not directly answer, instead leading with, "I know that she drove you to do most of what you did. I know that your personality now is partially a result of her influence. I know that you cried when you thought she'd left you during a game of hide-and-seek at the age of seven."

Talon inhaled deeply, but his voice shook when he raised his eyes to meet the headmaster's. "You're not wrong," he began. "I-I'll live. I'll live with it."

Ambrose sighed. "Then, I'll tell you now. She's your roommate, it seems." He felt bad for the boy. No matter how much he enjoyed sentences that barely made sense and leaving them up for interpretation, seeing people in pain did not give him pleasure.

"What?" Talon asked, surprised.

The old man raised his hands, shaking his head. "That wasn't me."

Talon swore loudly.

"Will you be okay?" Ambrose inquired, upon seeing the look of sorrow on Talon's face.

"Yeah, I'll-I'll be okay." Talon shook his head, furrowing his brows. "I'll deal." He threw open the door to the office and left in silence, leaving Ambrose wondering what he'd be met with next.

Talon stepped out of the shower, his hair wet and matted down so that it shaped his head. Stretching, the Necromancer snatched his clothes from the bathroom sink and slid on his undergarments and pants, staring at his shirt before shrugging and putting that on, too. It was early, roughly eight in the evening, and Talon was the only one in his dorm.

Thankfully. It meant that he could avoid Astra maybe for the whole night. If he could fall asleep.

Talon pushed open the bathroom door, strode over to the kitchen and opened up the surprisingly large (and Marleybone made) refrigerator he'd seen earlier before he fell asleep, scouring the interior for any decent beverages or snacks to sate his sudden hunger.

"Aw, nice," Talon said, sliding a glass bottle filled with a brown, bubbling substance from its frigid confines. It was initially an Earth drink that a galaxy-hopping adventurer known only as Majestic had found many years prior. Eventually, the Majestic managed to replicate it, and the drink became an instant hit among the wizards. As to avoid confusion with the Earth drink and also to make a profit and avoid copyright, Majestic called his drink Coffee-Cola.

It just so happened to be Talon and Astra's favorite drink as kids. Though Talon never really drank anything outside of milk and water.

With a somber smile, Talon cracked open the cap on the glass bottle, and took a hearty gulp. The cold fluid slid past his cracked lips and down his dry throat. Good. It was good. Good wasn't something he associated himself with...it wasn't a feeling he'd experienced in a long time.

The door opened as Talon took a sip of the Coffee-Cola, and his eyes flitted over to glance at the person entering. Astra froze in the doorway her multicolored eyes locked on Talon. He remembered that gaze. He hated that gaze. The same look she'd given him in the prison. The same look she'd given him as her hands closed around his throat. The same look she'd given him as she screamed his name frantically, yet failed to notice that he was there. The same look she'd had on her face-those dull, bored, soulless eyes.

But he loved her.

Astra's look of shock slowly became one of anger. "That's mine," she hissed, pointing at the Coffee-Cola, her eyes narrowed, sharp, focused. It wasn't something Talon expected, and he wasn't sure how to handle it.

So he said nothing, and instead continued to drink, staring off in a different direction, before eventually settling to stare at the couch with mild interest.

As a matter-of-fact, there were many things in this dorm. The dorm rooms were meant to hold at least two, so they had to be large, but even so, in Talon and Astra's dorm, there was enough furniture to sustain a recluse for years. Two bookshelves fully stocked were directly across from the red, silk laden couch. That was one space. Talon was in the kitchen, which led to both the space with the couch and the short hall that led to both rooms. Astra was in the doorway, which branched directly into the space with the couch, with the entire kitchen being visible the moment you stuck your head inside the dorm.

"Hey!" Astra barked, and Talon gave her a sidelong glance. It was difficult just to look at her. Talon felt as if his eyes were burning as he stared at her. Fuck.

"What..?" He asked, his voice breaking. He cleared his throat. "What?"

Astra strode over to him and snatched the Coffee-Cola from his hand. She pointed at it in a manner that seemed fierce. "This. This here? This drink? Mine. Not yours, kid."

"Kid? I'm older than you!" Talon exclaimed impulsively. Shit. That wasn't what he wanted to say. He wanted to run. Just run. Kill himself. Okay, too far. Maybe just switch rooms. Could he get away from her?

"Yeah, well, I'm taller." Astra snipped. "Just because you're leading a team that I'm on doesn't mean you can sway up into my room and drink my drinks."

"It's my favorite drink, too," Talon mumbled, averting his eyes. He didn't want to talk to her. This was terrifying. He could feel his gut tighten.

"Israfel, isn't it?" Astra asked, downing the rest of the Coffee-Cola (which was just over half of the bottle; wizards weren't stingy like those Earthborns and filled the whole bottle with cola) and folding her arms across her chest.

Talon stared at her. "Just call me Talon," he responded. He could feel the anger rising within him. His name. She didn't remember, did she? But he met her in the prison. She spoke his name in the prison. She tried to kill him in the prison.

The ensuing silence wasn't what Talon was expecting, but without warning, Astra gripped the sides of her head, her expression becoming one of pain. "Ex…Excuse me," she hissed through gritted teeth, and ran past him to the bathroom. Talon stared at her as she passed, eyes wide with confusion.

What just happened?

Maybe she doesn't remember the prison, Thalomir suggested. Maybe you're new to her all over again.

Talon was silent, and then he shrugged to himself, frowning. "I would've been fine if she at least remembered my name," he muttered angrily. With a snort, he turned on his heel and entered his room, slamming the door behind him.

"Why again?" Astra muttered to herself, clutching her head tightly. Her face was streaked with tears and her eyes were squeezed shut. She didn't want to see how she looked, even as she stood before the bathroom mirror. "Why now, why him; why is it always him?!" She exclaimed, her voice pained yet afraid.

Talon. She'd heard that name before. She'd seen him before, but she never made the connection. It just...wasn't something she thought about. People looked alike, it wasn't uncommon to see people who looked the same but were unrelated. But this Talon-her supposed roommate-was the same one who haunted her dreams. The same one who lingered in the back of her mind, making her think that there were things she didn't know.

And the headaches...ever since Astra could remember (she remembered a good portion of her time before being adopted by Cyrus, including being arrested), they'd been there. Maybe there was something somebody said, but her head would just ache. Like she'd been thrown into a wall. But why did she hallucinate the team leader? She never met him before...right? Why did Astra feel as if she knew him?

"Talon," she muttered. The name felt so familiar. "Talon…" As if on cue, a frown slid across Astra's face even though her head felt like it would burst and her teeth pushed against one another. One of her memories was returning. She had felt something like this when Cyrus adopted her, as they had spent the few years they had trying to restore her memory.

Somewhere, deep down, Astra felt...sick.

The man...the one Astra was afraid of-Fallon-had stumbled into the room to "give her a check up", but the greasy smile on his face had told her enough. She had screamed, cried, sobbed, soaked her face in tears, but her lip until she drew blood, and thrashed in her bonds as he advanced, his tongue sliding across his lips in anticipation, something which terrified Astra, even more than when his pants hit the ground, the clink of his belt buckle returning her to her senses.

He was going to...no, she couldn't let him. She didn't want this. Not from him. Maybe if she was at home, maybe if she was safe, maybe if she was with Talon...maybe she would want it. But she wasn't at home. And Talon wasn't here.

She wasn't safe anymore.

"Talon," she whispered on impulse. Talon would protect her, even if he wasn't really there. Talon would make Astra strong. He would keep her alive.

Fight back. She had to fight back.

Astra had bit until he had scars all over his face, but he did not cease. He slapped her several times, whispering her name, voice ominous and sinister, his hand gripping her throat tightly, squeezing the life out of her; spittle flying from his mouth to hit her face, his teeth gritted tightly, and then she felt him inside of her.

The pain Astra experienced was unlike anything she had ever felt before. She could feel the blood as it ran down her thighs and began to cry.

"I'm sorry, Talon, I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" She sobbed.

She felt him shift around in attempt to get comfortable, give up and felt his hips shoot upwards and brush against her thighs. Then there was more pain and she screamed in anguish. His clawed, demonic-hands gripped her waist and he pulled her down onto him as best he could as he thrust upwards and she continued to scream; the tears kept flowing and there was blood, but he didn't stop and Astra was afraid.

Not this.

Fallon moved his hands, roughly kneading her breasts, breaking skin and drawing blood, leaving bite marks, bruises and cuts along her neck, collarbone and around her nipples.

Astra wanted to run.

She didn't want this. He touched her in the way she'd wanted Talon to touch her when she was back home. When she was in love.

When she was safe. But this…she hated this.

Astra couldn't speak for a time, and her mouth just hung agape, frozen in an agonised scream. He knotted his fingers into her hair, pulled as he thrust faster, gave a powerful grunt, and then Astra felt the fluids blast into her. She could move again. She screamed, and began to flail wildly within her binds.

He slipped out of her, pulling up his pants, not even bothering to clean the mess of blood, tears, sweat and semen from the floor, turned on his heel and left.

"No," Astra whispered, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes were bloodshot and her face was filled with fear, but then again, who wouldn't be afraid after a memory like that?

And Talon...he was important. Important enough that Astra wished he knew where she was so he could save her. Astra now knew that she had been attracted to him, both emotionally and sexually. But...she needed him. She needed him back there, and he wasn't there.

It made her feel...afraid.

Astra was strong, but the one thing...the one person she was afraid of was Fallon. If he resurfaced...if he found her, she could turn to Cyrus, but Cyrus couldn't help her. Not during a war. There was more at stake that just her life, and she shouldn't trouble him with basic problems. If one could call her problem basic.

She shivered. The bathroom was warm. Could she turn to Talon? They only just met, but...it seemed like Astra knew him. She felt some sort of attachment to him, a connection that she couldn't yet explain. He made her feel...wanted. Special. The way he looked at her (granted, he'd only glared at her, or provided a sidelong glance) made her feel strong. Safe.

Warm. It was not easy to retain her air of confidence and dominance around him. Sure, she managed to do a pretty decent job of it, but it was more difficult than she made it seem.

Maybe he knew her, too? The boy who introduced himself as his brother sure knew her. Astra shook her head frantically in an attempt to both rid herself of the ache and cease her bordering-on-lecherous thoughts, but the memory was hers and she couldn't let go of what was already there.

Instead, she chose to crawl into her bed, curl up into a tight ball, close her eyes and hope that she was able to get some rest before the next day arrived.

Leif sighed, throwing himself onto his bed. 9:30 in the evening wasn't an optimal time for him to sleep considering that he hadn't even gotten his reading in yet, but he felt tired. Exhausted, in fact. Meeting with his team had drained all the energy from his body, and they had met before lunch.

He had taken one look at the people surrounding him, all shapes, sizes and races, and felt terrified. Compared to him, their faces were masks of stoicism and power whereas he always carried a stupefied expression wherever he traveled. On top of that, to say the least, he looked like a girl. Coupled with his shoulder length, curly hair, there wasn't much he could do to stop people from calling him a female. Of course, he could always cut his hair, but to Leif, that was never an option.

Leif wanted to be a man. Or at least be viewed as one. The team leader-he was manly. Or he at least seemed like a real man, up until he froze upon seeing the eye-catching redhead.

But that was besides the point. Leif had worked with negligible difficulty to prepare for this simple team meeting. He stocked up on treasure cards, tried putting gel in his hair so that he didn't look so much like a girl, and made sure that he was wearing his best looking (and most practical) outfit.

Leif let out a powerful breath before he sat up on his bed, thinking. He was tired, yes, but he could never get the sleep he needed without clearing his head. A walk seemed best. Maybe he'd just stroll around Ravenwood. The small branch of Wizard City was always active at all times of the night, since nighttime was when most would party for the simplest of reasons. There wasn't any real way to get lost, and even if you did, someone was usually there to provide some form of assistance.

He opened the door of his dormitory and began descending the stairs, brushing past a green-eyed blonde on the way down. He almost gave her a second glance upon feeling her eyes on him, but shrugged it off. He didn't know her and he doubted she'd be important to him anyways. There were all sorts of noises coming from the separate halls that evening. Leif heard moans and screams (he didn't bother to give that a second thought), grunts followed by the sound of someone hitting a sandbag, and even the barks or growls of certain pets. He smiled slightly to himself as he opened the door that led from his dorm to Ravenwood.

The autumn air was refreshing. The perfect balance of warm and cold. The season that signaled the coming of winter, the opening of the gates of Polaris and the time where Leif had the most fun. Where he wouldn't be bullied needlessly because a majority of his tormentors were stuck in their dorms. Of course, he was, too, but he didn't have to see them, so that served as an added bonus. Leif glanced around, deciding to head towards Bartleby. It was active by the dorms and near each school building, but the teachers weren't in their classrooms and not too many people would be inside of Bartleby. It would be a nice, quiet place to gather his thoughts.

The poor Theurgist was instead greeted by the wings of a green-skinned Draconian, one who Leif recognized as Eron. One of his teammates. He made an attempt to brush the wings from his face, but the moment he touched the appendages, they seemed to shiver and extended instead, the talons on the end nearly bisecting him. Alright. Leif decided to try and crouch under the wings, but as he made an advance towards the other side of Bartleby, his legs were swept out from under him by the Draconian's tail, and he tripped, his chin slamming against the tree's interior. The Theurgist's teeth slammed together, and when the ringing in his ears subsided slightly, he could feel a small indent in his chin.

"Ah!" Leif yelped. Was that...blood streaming from it?

Ah, well, nothing he couldn't heal. Of course, the wound could be healed, but the sting of receiving it wouldn't subside for a time and his dignity (what little he retained, anyway) could not be scraped off of the ground. As Leif rose to his feet and retreated a fairly safe distance, he locked eyes with the Draconian, who rose from his kneeling position.

"...Hi," Leif murmured weakly, unsure of what to say. The creature's stare terrified him. Without warning, the Draconian gave a small smirk, and Leif frowned in confusion.

"Hey there...Leif, ain't it?" Eron inquired, a smug (was it really?) note in his voice.

"Hi…" Leif trailed off, briefly forgetting the Draconian's name. "You're Eron, right? Do...do you have...a last name?" Leif followed up on impulse. He was curious. Despite the fact that the Draconian had just tripped him and nearly destroyed him with simply a pair of wings, Leif wasn't angry. He had forgotten about most of it, anyways. He wasn't the type to linger on things.

Eron nodded. "I...yeah, I'm Eron...but…" He paused for a second, musing. Or at least, Leif assumed he was musing. If musing consisted of staring at Leif with eyes that said 'how interesting'. "I don't got a last name." Eron concluded.

The way the Draconian talked was so informal...and here he thought Draconians were polite and spoke in more formal tongues. Not as if they were addressing a sibling. But Eron threw all the stereotypes aside. He was brash. Reckless.

Cool.

"What were you doing there?" Leif inquired, now curious as to why he was nearly decimated upon entry.

"When?" Eron responded, confused.

"When I walked in."

"When did you walk in..?"

"Just now," Leif answered, frowning slightly. Didn't you hear me trip?"

"Oh," Eron murmured thoughtfully. "Well, sorry about that. People ain't usually here when I am, so…" He trailed off, and Leif assumed he was too embarrassed to force an actual apology. It was okay. He was forgiven.

"It's only 10:00."

"I know."

"So what was it you were doing?"

Eron paused. He stared at Leif blankly, and for a moment, Leif felt the self-hatred and torment that Eron had experienced, but it vanished as soon as it had come and the feeling was no more. The Theurgist staggered back, surprised by the sudden phenomenon he'd experienced. "I was praying," Eron said simply. "I pray twice a day."

"Do you believe in a god?"

"There are no gods in this place. This fuckin' hell...hellish embrace…" Eron trailed off again, and Leif was left speechless-how could someone pray to a god or gods they didn't believe existed? It was bewildering. Before he could respond, Eron spoke again. "I didn't get your name, kid. Unless you don't have one. Y'got one?"

Leif smiled softly. "Sure do. I'm Leif Shadowspear."

MW: And that's all for the first half of this chapter. I haven't written the first half yet, so expect it within a month, shortly after I finish my finals and my AP exams. Thanks! I hope you enjoyed, and with that being said, here is the normal Q and A.

Q: Why does Eron pray if he doesn't believe in any gods?

A: It's an aspect of him which I much enjoy-taken from my beliefs. For instance, I am an atheist, but there are times when I pray to what I refer to as a "nonexistent God" in order to make myself feel better. I don't believe in the existence of a God or multiple gods...or anything, really, but I pray in order to feel safe when I fail to remain intact by my own means. It's like having safe words. Similar to how I pray in order to maintain my sanity and feel safe when I have difficulty relieving stress or handling tough situations, Eron prays in order to reassure himself that he's okay.

Q: Why did you end with Leif saying his name?

A: If you remember the other girl Talon was in love with, Valkyrie, she had the same last name. If you don't remember, you'll see.

Q: Will Astra be okay?

A: Will she? I don't know. I assume she will, as long as she doesn't lose someone else dear to her. Astra's memories have been wiped twice, but they aren't actually gone. What Vale never bothered to learn about his device is that it simply represses memories to the point where they appear virtually nonexistent, and are rarely recovered. In Astra's case, she memorized Talon's name, which became the trigger to recovering her memories.

Q: What's with the name of the chapter?

A: Well, at the end of the chapter, Eron refers to the world as a "hellish embrace" which illustrates both his troubled past and his jaded outlook on life. In the second part, when Talon manages to have a conversation with Astra (albeit a confusing one), he talks about his cynicism (which comes primarily from Thalomir) and how it has changed his view on life. This sparks a sort of rift between the two, but we'll get to that later. Anyways, the other piece of the title, "heavenly voice" refers to how people initially view someone they're in love with. They call them beautiful, say they'll die for them, et cetera. It refers to the relationship between Hunter and Sabrina, which is explored in the second half.