Author's Note:I am pleased with how quickly I managed to write this chapter, and luckily for me the next few have been sitting in the back of my brain waiting for their turn so they shouldn't be too difficult either. Please enjoy, and review. And don't forget the favorite Wizard poll. Your input feeds the desire to write!

It Is His Nature

(1 week, 3 days Post-Incident)

Kane sat cross-legged on the newly-rearranged cot, his hood pulled back so his pale blonde hair fell around his shoulder plating. His eyes were closed and his breaths were shallow as he focused within himself, ignoring the world around him. The Captain already checked in on the Wizard, chuckling about his poor knot-tying skills.

Don't focus on minute details; he corrected his mind, focusing instead on the fact that the Captain's check meant he wouldn't be interrupted. He wouldn't have to deal with any annoying consequences for what he sought to do next. Inhaling deeply, Kane began the spell.

The air before him turned smoggy grey, condensing into a black line that created the Symbol of Death. A bell-chime followed as the summoning commenced, a vortex of dust swirling in the center of his little room to bring forth the Wraith he'd pulled from the Spirit World. The blazing eyes of the unholy glared beneath the black hood at the Conjurer, wings fluttering in agitation. Kane opened his eyes, meeting the fierce gaze with one of his own.

"What has Death done to Rowan Skulldreamer?" Kane asked sternly.

"I know not what you mean," the Wraith hissed. Kane's violet eyes narrowed, and his right hand opened up, soft amber light radiating from his palm. He began to slowly close his fist, and the Wraith jerked upright and then froze.

"Don't play coy with me, demon," Kane muttered, continuing to close his fist as the light grew in intensity. "As a conjurer I can manipulate my summonings in many ways, some quite unpleasant," to prove his point, Kane swiftly clenched the fist, gold beams of light streaming between his fingers. The Wraith let out a gasping cry, golden cracks running along its body as the magic began to devour it. Kane twisted his fist, and the Wraith convulsed before snapping to the right at the hip, vertebrae cracking apart. Kane opened his fist and prematurely ended the spell, causing the Wraith to collapse on the hardwood in a heap.

With its body in two separate pieces, the Wraith pushed itself up into a position that allowed it to lean against its legs as if they were the back of a chair. Then it laughed. Kane cocked an eyebrow at the creature, but didn't respond.

"I may as well tell you, mortal wizard," the Wraith whispered, "as the knowledge will not save you. Rowan Skulldreamer has joined our ranks. She is like us now. And as a Reaper, it is her duty to collect the souls destined to meet my Lord." The Wraith cackled at Kane, wings shuddering with delight.

"You have a debt to pay, foolish mortal. And she is coming to collect it."

When the sisters rematerialized on Alia's beachfront, Rowan felt the heat of a midafternoon sun on her chilled skin. She also felt soft sand and salt water lapping at… bare feet.

"Uh, Alia…" Rowan frowned as she made an awkward discovery, "I'm still in my nightgown."

"So?"

"Well, don't you think this might be a little… inappropriate?" Rowan inquired, gesturing down her body.

"Oh…" Alia looked her sister over. The nightgown in question was a black satin that wasn't quite transparent, tailored to fit around the waist and ending just above her knees. Red straps left her shoulders bare and a blood red lace trim drew attention to the considerable cleavage it displayed. "You're just trying to get out of this; it'll be fine. He's seen you naked after all."

"This just might be a little different, Alia," Rowan rolled her eyes.

"Honestly, I'd be pleased if you got a rise outta him," Alia admitted as they headed up the beach to the wooden ramp, "it'd be the first time his body did something without my help since the Incident." Her comment came with exasperation unique to someone who has spent far longer than they desired healing someone.

"Incident," Rowan asked with concern. "Did something happen?"

"Oh, no," Alia shook her head. "Tasha, Miguel and I have just taken to calling the fight with Talon 'the Incident'. Seems appropriate considering he did have a mental breakdown."

"I'm sorry, but I feel like I might be a little uninformed about Talon at the moment," Rowan replied with a hint of annoyance, "Care to elaborate on that?"

"Oh, sorry…" Alia frowned, "I figured Tasha had wrote you about what Falmea told us." Rowan shook her head. Alia suddenly broke into a big grin. "Well then, have I got news for you. Turns out, our Talon is the Prince of Dragonspyre!"

"Oh, that's nice…" Rowan muttered, then came to a stop roughly halfway up the ramp and turned sharply to face Alia. "Wait, what?!"

"Ok, well not exactly yet…" Alia folded her arms and leaned on one of the ramp posts. "Turns out his mother is in charge of the Dragonspyre Reconstruction Project that Headmaster Ambrose sanctioned after we defeated Malistaire. And since the Dragon Titan killed the royal bloodline in his attack, that leaves no successor. When they've restored the world enough, she will have a pretty strong claim on the throne."

"You haven't told mother this, have you?" Rowan asked, concern returning to her face.

"No, why?"

"Because I'd never hear the end of it," Rowan's eyes rolled, and she began to mock her mother's higher-pitched voice, "I can't believe you traded a prince for an archeologist!"

Alia actually laughed a little, the first time since the Incident. "What does this have to do with mental breakdowns though?"

"Oh, that's because of his father actually," Alia explained as they continued their walk. "His dad is emotionally unstable, and apparently Talon has a bit of that problem too. Oh, and both his parents are like, super powerful pyromancers too. And Falmea is his aunt!" Rowan smirked at this as Alia opened her front door and ushered her elder sister in.

"Who knew our bumbling, clumsy, clownish pyromancer had such an impressive lineage?"

"I know, right?" Alia untied her ponytail, brown hair falling straight to the middle of her back. "I just don't understand why he never told us. He never seemed like a secretive guy, but there you have it." She pulled off her boots and tossed them casually. "Just stay right here. I'll go check on him first."

Rowan obeyed her sister, sitting down in one of the shell chairs at Alia's table. She still didn't think this was a good idea, but was thankful that Alia gave her some new information concerning Talon. A powerful Pyromancer lineage… She thought on this, looking back at her history with the man she now wondered if she ever really knew. She could recall several instances of impressive power from Talon, always during intense battles; a few times the designated healer even took down their opposition.

But she could never recall him talking about his family, even when their relationship got serious. He always avoided the question with vague reminiscing, or the conversation would naturally progress before he got around to an answer. She knew he played in Unicorn Way when he was little. She knew he grew up in Wizard City, and looked forward to the annual snowball fights on Colossus Boulevard. But nobody had ever really inquired about his family; where exactly they lived, what their names were, or if they had even attended Ravenwood in the past. And Falmea had certainly never shown him any favoritism.

He had always been that guy in the group; that fun loving and goofy guy you always knew would be smiling. He would always be having a good day, always find the joke in the situation. Not the type of guy you would suspect of having secrets of any great importance. Possible Prince of Dragonspyre… It was difficult for her to wrap her head around.

"Alright, he's awake," Alia announced as she entered the room. "I gave him a dose of pain relief to ease the conversation. I'm not the best healer, understand, and he got beat up pretty damn good." She wrung her hands and smiled weakly. Rowan noticed weariness in her sister's eyes that wasn't there before. This really is wearing her out. "You've got maybe thirty minutes before he's got to rest again, okay?"

"I understand," Rowan got up and wrapped her arms around her younger sister, gently hugging her. "I'm sorry you have to deal with this. But I do appreciate all you are doing for him."

"Quit acting like you care," Alia jested.

"I've always cared, Alia," Rowan replied with a regretful sigh, "just not always good about showing it." She stepped back from her sister and looked down the hall to the closed door of Alia's bedroom. "Get a little rest, okay?"

"Nuh uh," Alia shook her head, "I may look tired but I've dealt with worse than this in the last week. I have to be ready in case you're right about this."

"Ever vigilant, you are," Rowan smirked and headed down the hall. Alia stopped her before she got to the door though.

"One more thing," she whispered, "I haven't told him about Dakota…"

Talon was propped up on a few pillows so that his head was at least upright. Sitting up was still uncomfortable for him, so this was pretty much the best way for him to not be looking at the ceiling throughout Rowan's visit. Talon was dreading and eagerly awaiting Rowan's entry into Alia's room. What he primarily dreaded was the unavoidable awkwardness that would coincide with their reunion, but Talon wanted –no, he needed- to see her again, to make sure his descent into madness hadn't harmed her.

Talon smiled wider than he had in over a month when Rowan entered. Though perhaps a bit pale, the Necromancer looked as beautiful as ever. However, the smile she gave in return wasn't nearly as potent.

"Are we having a sleepover?" Talon jested.

"Yeah, sorry, no… Alia just whisked me away without allowing me to get properly clothed," Rowan admitted, then realized she probably could've worded that better. Talon's crestfallen expression was confirmation.

"So it wasn't your idea to see me, then," he grumbled, an undercurrent of anger slipping from his tongue.

"I see Alia has her work cut out for her," Rowan commented after a lengthy moment of silence. While Alia had given Rowan a summary of Talon's condition, he looked a lot worse.

"Yeah," Talon agreed, eyes focused on his bed sheets, "but she is stepping up to the task well." He lifted his arms off the sheets, showcasing the bandages and cotton pads that littered his skin, each covering a burn or cut. Between them were occasional purple splotches of bruised flesh. "Got carried away, and even burned myself, apparently."

"You sound better though," Rowan complimented.

"Jaw still aches, without Alia's spells I wouldn't be saying much," Talon rebutted abruptly. Rowan had mostly said it to make him feel better; she could see the pain in his face. Talon gestured for her to sit on the bed. Rowan sat on his right side, the side closest to the door, as a precaution, and carefully avoided his legs even though the left one was broken. She wasn't comfortable meeting his eyes, looking at the floor instead.

Her right hand was wrapped in warmth as Talon took it, gently closing his fingers around hers. "I am glad you are okay, though," he murmured, his voice filled with caring Rowan deemed inappropriate, given the situation. Alia was right… He does still care.

"After what I did to you, why would you care about me anymore?" She had to look at him now, had to see his face when he answered. And the face she met was the one she dreaded. The gentleness of the Talon she'd known looked back at her, the kindness and caring of an abnormally large heart.

"Why does the grass continue to grow, though we regularly cut it?" He asked with a smile, reaching over to take her hand in both of his. "It is my nature to care, especially about those important to me. After what I've done, I must make sure I do not forget that, again."

"What you did wasn't entirely your fault, Talon," Rowan told him. "I communed with Death this past week," she began to explain before he could ask, "to find out what happened that night to me. In our conversation there were some none-too-subtle hints that He may have manipulated your emotions, encouraging you to go over the edge just to get at me."

Talon's hazel eyes stared into hers, filled with contemplation on this new information. He wasn't sure how much of it he could trust. Even if she's right though… "That doesn't excuse what I did," Talon finally answered with a murmur. "What I became." He averted his eyes shamefully, and it occurred to Rowan that guilt may be driving his forgiveness and concern for her health.

"This has changed us both, Talon," Rowan turned towards him, slipping her hand from his grasp to run it through the Pyromancer's red-orange hair. He glanced back at her. "But just like that grass you mentioned, we'll grow tall and strong again." She smiled softly, but embers flared in those hazel eyes.

"Easy for you to say," He snapped, "you've got a rebound! Agh," his voice had risen with anger, briefly forgetting that raising his voice was painful. Rowan drew back her hand and leaned away from him, genuinely surprised by the sudden shift in his attitude. Alia had mentioned it, but Rowan was just now grasping difficult it might be to handle.

"Actually I don't," she returned, forcing herself to keep the edge out of her voice. I didn't come here to continue the fighting after all. "Kane has gone Bartleby-knows-where. Alia basically sent him off, dumping him at the same time."

"Well, that is his nature, too," Talon grimaced, "running from whatever makes him uneasy." Talon frowned and reached out to Rowan. "I'm sorry… I don't like bed rest."

"You never did," Rowan replied with a hesitant smirk, leaning closer to him again. "Talon, what I really wanted to say while here is this; I have thought about everything you said that night and I want you to know that you're wrong; I do love you. I've always loved you," Rowan sighed, "and that's why I turned down your proposals. I'll never be the wife you deserve, who will give you children and grow old beside you; a cheerful wife who'll keep you happy and well-fed and take care of you when you're sick. That's just not who I am, or what I'm capable of," Rowan shook her head slowly and sighed again. They had many past talks about their future together, and she'd told him so many times that her form of existence most certainly rendered her sterile. She wasn't oblivious either; she had seen more than one longing look towards playing children when they were together in public.

"You deserve to spend your life with a woman better than me, Talon. You're too good a man to be stuck with a cold, emotionally stunted, sterile witch like me."

"You're not a witch," Talon assured her. Rowan cocked an eyebrow. "Okay… maybe a little, all things considered. This affair wasn't an attempt to drive that point home, was it?" The inquiry seemed like an accusation.

"No, no it wasn't, I swear," Rowan defended. "I was afraid this sort of thing would happen and that's why I never told you. It was a self-fulfilling fear, and it was stupid. I'd never even meant to form a relationship with Kane."

"It'll take a good deal of convincing to believe that," Talon muttered. "Regardless, it worked. I may care about you enough to not want you hurt, but I have no intention of mending our relationship," he was sounding rather irate now.

"I wasn't intending to continue dating a man who tried to kill me anyways," Rowan snapped. This zigzag of Talon's emotions was grating on her nerves by this point.

"At least I was pretending," Talon pointed out. "If Dakota hadn't stopped you, I bet you would have killed me!" He grimaced again, the shout bringing new pain, but Rowan's frown had nothing to do with his pain… yet.

"About Dakota…" Rowan began, noticing the fear creep into his eyes.

"No…"

"I'm afraid… I did," she admitted guiltily, not making eye contact. "I'm sorry."

Talon was silent, staring at Rowan with watery eyes. Dakota, his first pet dragon since getting accepted to Ravenwood -his first pet as an adult- was dead. His loyal companion that had followed him from Nightside to the top of Dragonspyre and back, keeping house when Talon needed the skills of another pet for a certain mission, was gone. He would never hear that melodious trill of Dakota seeking his attention again.

He was dead, slain by Rowan, because he refused to leave Talon alone in the depths of an impassioned manic rage. An innocent's blood was spilt because he lost control. Tears ran down his face as he thought about it, and when Rowan finally gathered the nerve to look at him, it was those tears that sent her over the edge, as well. She was expecting the tears, but she hadn't prepared herself for the emotional onslaught they brought upon her mind, and she felt the Angel of Death seize her before she could rein it in.

"Alia!"

She was pretty sure the shout was as loud as Talon could get in his condition, and that sent the Diviner into a panic. She was pretty quick to respond since she had been at the end of the hall the whole time. She had heard a good deal of their conversation, yet wasn't prepared for the chaotic scene she found beyond the door.

Talon and Rowan appeared to be wrestling on the bed; except Rowan was also shrouded in black smog and her eyes were glowing fiercely. Talon's right hand was desperately trying to form a Life symbol but for some reason continually fizzled as his other arm tried to keep Rowan off his throat.

"Rowan, stop that!" Alia shouted, rushing at her sister and trying to pull her off. As the Necromancer tussled with Talon, however, Alia got knocked away and ignored.

"I will finish what I started," Rowan declared in the demonic tone of the Angel, snarling down at her hapless victim. Alia growled and quickly scrawled a Life spell, a flash of green light condensing into an irritating Imp.

Delighting in his duty, the Imp cackled as he hovered above Rowan and began to play his jaunty tune. Rowan reared back, clamping her ears and wailing as the green devil danced on her head to add insult to injury. She furiously swatted at the nuisance, and then dashed out the door and down the hall, shadowy wisps following like a trail of fire. Alia wasn't far behind.

"Rowan, no! Come back!" Alia yelled after her sister, eyes widening as she noticed the shadows condensing into slick, ebony wings. Rowan shouldered through her front door and into the afternoon sun, spreading her new wings wide. Alia came out the house just as Rowan turned to face her, emerald orbs flaring in an empty skull.

"Thanks for the freedom," her sister cackled, before Alia's black panther Bartholomew growled and pounced. What he caught was thin, immaterial smoke as Rowan teleported.

"What have I done?" Alia wondered aloud, covering her mouth with one hand and leaning against her shack to steady herself. After a moment she inhaled deeply then went inside.

"Talon, are you hurt?" She called out.

"Nothing I can't handle for a while," was his reply, though it was soft.

"Alright, I'll be back! I have to find Rowan before she hurts someone!"

It was late into the night before Alia returned to her island shack, ten times as worn out as she was before. She had searched high and low, teleported to every cavern, crypt, catacomb, graveyard, glacier, or random place she suspected her sister to have gone and came home empty. There was only one final place Alia could think of, and it was wherever Kane went. And since his whereabouts was also unknown, that wasn't an explorable theory.

"I'm home!" Alia called out wearily, dragging her feet to the bedroom when she got no answer. She found Talon asleep in her bed as usual, and surmised he must have passed out, or nodded off. Either way she didn't have the energy to deal with him right now, so shuffled towards the kitchen to wash her face and call it a day.

She was about halfway there when the knocking started, slow but steady. It continued as she begrudgingly moved towards the door.

"Alright already, I hear you! I'm coming, I'm coming!" The knocking finally stopped and Alia reached the door, swinging it open to reveal one more surprise for the evening. "Tasha? What are you doing here?"

Her sister was standing on her front stoop, wrapped in a deep blue wizard robe and holding a suitcase. Behind her was her white stag, back laden with more bags. Her makeup was streaked with tears that were still slowly crawling down her face as she silently gazed at her twin.

"Oh no…" Alia finally comprehended the scene before her. "Oh Tasha, if I'd known he'd throw you out-"

"He didn't," Tasha interrupted, sniffling, "I left him."