Author's Note: I hope this chapter is worth the wait. For me it was a very important chapter as it was 1) awesome and challenging to write and 2) lays groundwork for future character development that had to be done just right. On top of that I've recently been promoted to a more tasking position at work and we have many new projects due very soon, so I have been doing this entire chapter in segments while trying to maintain consistency and a good pacing of the action. For clarity and to improve flow, allow me to explain that actions happening in Rowan's mind are in Italics.

Please review, as I'd love to know how this chapter worked out. I've never written a battle scene quite like this one and am excited to know how it reads for you.

It's Complicated

(One week, 5 days Post-Incident)

A bolt of dark lightning erratically zigged through the Skyway of Mooshu, darting in and out of the Windlanes. Even through the spyglass it was difficult to discern what it was but Spark, in all his years as First Mate aboard the Enterprise, was certain he'd seen nothing like it. The Doberman monitored the black streak as it darted through the Skyway, disrupting ships it passed enough to elicit a change in their course. Spark frowned as he realized it was now heading towards the ship.

"Get the Captain, we may have trouble!" Spark ordered, never removing the curious object from his sight. A subordinate nearby complied and rushed to the Captain's map room. Before he even reached the door the black lightning was upon the ship, veering into a dive to the deck beside the mast. The impact oddly held no physical force; the ship not even creaking. Rather, a ring of smoke emanated from the impact, momentarily obscuring a figure at its heart. It dissipated to reveal a shrouded, winged figure. Spark moved to the railing to more closely observe what appeared to be the rumored Death Seraphs of Avalon.

The seraph theory was pretty much discredited when the figure pulled an ebony scythe with a shaft of bone from its cloak, turned to the nearest pirate, and decapitated him with chilling silence. The silence of the killer spread to the pirates, fear and astonishment paralyzing their tongues.

The murderer turned its gaze upon the pirates that stood at its level, each seeing the vibrant emerald light that blazed beneath the hood. Hands rested on hilts, but no one moved as those eyes scanned them.

"Would you at least care to announce yourself, so we may know who takes our lives?" Spark's stern voice ended the silence, and drew the cloaked figure's attention. After a moment of consideration, the figure pulled back its hood with a skeletal hand to reveal a disturbing façade. The woman's face was warping, changing from flesh to skull as erratically as the lightning she was born from, her glowing green eyes the only constant feature to identify.

What parts of her mouth maintained flesh pulled into a sneer, and the woman raised her scythe towards Spark. "There is a Wizard on board. I can sense him," the stranger proclaimed, her voice carrying the echo of a cry in a crypt, "Bring him to me. I have business with him, not you."

"And yet, you kill one of my men, anyways," Tiberius' growl cut off any response his second may have readied as the Rottweiler stepped onto the deck with cutlass in hand. "You realize we are pirates, yes? We've dealt with Wraiths before, and we won't allow such an act, to go unpunished. Send her back to her maker, boys!"

At his order, two pirates drew their blades and charged the demonic intruder, their captain's fearlessness inspiring vengeful action. The first pirate swung his cutlass at the woman, who made no move to evade the attack and let the steel sail through her chest, wisps of smoke curling over the edge as it passed.

Her sneer became an amused smirk at the astonished and horrified face of her attacker, allowing him to step back once before she returned his attack, spinning her scythe at her side and stepping forward, the blade coming up to pierce the Dog's stomach and slide up behind his ribcage, shredding a lung on its journey out of his back. She paused to take in his pained expression and then pulled her scythe out the way it came, blood and entrails spilling onto the deck as her victim drowned in his own fluids.

"Your turn?" the woman coldly inquired of her second attacker as fresh blood dripped from her weapon and her victim crumbled to the deck. The other pirate hesitated, snout quivering as he glanced at his dying companion. His surrender was swift, dropping his sword to rush to the dying pirate. Sneering once more, the skull-faced woman turned back to the captain and pointed at her newest victim. "Abide my demand, or this is your fate. Bring me the wizard, or haunt this vessel till the Spiral's dissolution. Be quick, Dog! I grow impatient with your pandering!"

Rowan watched the bloodshed on the Enterprise over her own shoulder as if her spirit was hovering behind her body, even though it wasn't. She even felt the pain of the pirate's blade on her soul, despite it causing no physical damage to the Angel's body. Instinct told her there'd be at least a scratch when she regained control. If she regained control, that is.

Since that moment in Alia's shack, Rowan had been where she now resided, trapped in the subconscious of her mind. Her subconscious manifested around her as an ancient tomb carved out of a cavern complex; Grizzleheiman judging by the offerings and size of the coffins. Given her undead nature, it made sense that her subconscious would manifest in this way. What didn't make sense at first was how she was able to perceive the outside world while trapped inside it.

Normal possessions, she'd learned in her classes, resulted from the host's soul (which housed the conscious) being forced into the subconscious mind, resulting in blackouts and memory loss during the possession as the host's soul is cut off from the senses. After two days of wandering the halls of her subconscious and contemplating her predicament, Rowan came to the conclusion that hers was a special, unusual case. Undead don't typically get possessed; they do the possessing. Rowan reasoned a case could be made for her 'possessing' her own body normally, which would change how everything worked. Her own subconscious could be rejecting her presence, causing her spirit to bleed out of her body and allowing her to see the world like a typical spirit without a vessel.

"I'm not sure I'd prefer blacking out, but it does sound nicer sometimes," Rowan said to herself; the mental world around her failed to echo her voice. She ran her palms over a nearby wall; it had no temperature, no texture nor smoothness. Taste, touch, sound, and smell didn't exist here, only the sight of the mind's eye. However, the wall did respond to her hand, rippling and morphing into an image of what her physical eyes perceived. She watched as a pirate Dog snarled, called off his men, and then gave new orders for a few pirates to follow him. They were getting the wizard.

This was it; the moment was approaching where Rowan would either regain control, or Kane would die. She had spent the last two days wandering the halls in preparation for this situation, poking and prodding her aggressor and studying his mental shields. She assumed the possessor was a 'he' based on those mental blocks, which had a male flavor to them that stuck out in a female mind. They were also powerful, keeping her securely trapped for two days without any cracks or variation in their intensity. That was probably the most worrisome observation, because such mental strength could only come from an ancient soul and that could make reclaiming her body… complicated.

But there was a characteristic of mental shields that Rowan felt confident she could exploit; even in the most disciplined mind, there was always a fluctuation in the shielding, always a crack in the wall. It would come for a moment, and then disappear, like the blink of an eye, and occur for any number of reasons. Stronger minds could mitigate the weakness -resist the urge to blink- but involuntarily it would happen sooner or later.

And so, Rowan found herself in a mental staring contest with her invader, waiting for him to blink. And Kane's life hung on her ability to take advantage of it.

The heavy-handed knocking of a Dog's paw roused Kane from his fitful sleep. Springing upright he glared at the door while reaching for the athame hidden beneath what passed for a pillow on this vessel. He may have been traveling five days with these pirates with no incidents, but he wasn't about to push his luck.

"What now?" Kane called out. The response was his door bursting inward and a pack of pirates charging at him. Kane wasn't surprised at the act but he was caught off guard by their speed and they had him in their grasp too soon for him to retaliate. He was roughly brought to his knees, the unkempt wood floor grating bare skin. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Kane roared and struggled but they held firm.

"Saving our tails, Wizard," declared Captain Tiberius, who walked into the room with an unusual anxiety. "I don't like having to do this, but I can't risk any more of my crew, for you." Kane cocked an eyebrow and narrowed his eyes.

"Funny, I thought gold was all pirates cared about," He shot back sarcastically. He was certain the problem the Captain spoke of was Rowan. From the anxiety in the room and the Captain's words, she'd probably delivered an ultimatum.

"Our lives come first, Wizard," Tiberius growled, sticking his snout up. "Yours doesn't, even if you dying means we don't get paid." Kane's violet eyes rose to regard the Captain as he sneered.

"I can tell you don't deal with wizards much," he observed as his right hand gave off golden light. Before they realized what was happening Kane drew his Myth symbol and cast the spell, a blinding flash filling his small quarters. The light was blinding to everyone except Kane, who saw the spell-light as a haze filling the room. The pirates yelped and covered their stinging eyes, momentarily stunned.

Freed from their paws, Kane hastily retrieved his athame and circled the Captain. A strong kick behind his knees sent the blinded pirate to the floor. Kane swiftly brought his arm under the Captain's snout, pulling him up and exposing his neck to the Conjurer's knife. He held that position while the pirates regained their sight.

"Captain!" Swords were hastily drawn but hesitantly brandished as Kane pressed the knife harder against the Rottweiler's throat, back to the wall.

"Yer a sly one, I'll give you that," Captain Tiberius admitted, motioning for his men to stand down. "But what did you intend to do, after you killed me?"

"Nothing," Kane replied calmly. "I just wanted to get your attention. Give you a reason to listen to reason, because I believe I can make you a better offer than she did."

"She?" Tiberius frowned. "Do you know that creature?"

"Yeah," Kane smiled, "she's an ex-girlfriend. She turns into that thing when she gets real angry." Several of the Dogs cringed at his statement. Kane grinned theatrically. "If you think she's bad, then you really don't want to see me when I'm angry."

"What do you want then?" the Captain asked.

"Give me to her, as if ready for execution, but not properly bound. Let me fight her off, and I can guarantee that if your men stay out of the way, no harm will come to them," Kane proffered.

"We already tried fighting that wretched thing!" One of the pirates, a terrier, snapped. "My brother's sword went right through her without a scratch! What makes you think you can fight off that?"

"She's not your standard wraith, you imbeciles," Kane reproached. "Your mundane weapons won't be effective. Mine are enchanted, and magic is exactly what you need right now."

"He's lying!" The terrier snarled and bared his teeth, raising his sword to level the tip at Kane. The Conjurer tightened his grip on the Captain's throat. "Kill him and take his weapons! Use them to kill her!"

"She's powerful enough to resist steel, and you think a mere enchanted sword will help you?" Kane jeered. "You were dropped by your mum weren't you? You need the skills of a trained, powerful wizard if you are going to survive her, and I'm offering my services. I'm even willing to fully reimburse you for any damage caused to your ship in the process."

"You'll do what?!"

"I'll pay for the repairs," Kane clarified with a sigh. "All I need is for you to carry one of my swords, and have it ready for me when the fight begins. Do we have a deal?" There was silence as the pirate hounds solemnly contemplated his offer. It wasn't long before the terrier spoke in protest though.

"We can't trust 'im, Captain, he's a desperate man!"

"He raises a good point, Wizard." The Captain agreed. Kane's smirk dissolved into a frustrated frown.

"And what makes you think she won't just kill you all after you hand me over?" Kane countered. "You have the word of a wicked spirit against the word of a man eager to live. And willing to pay to do so. Choose wisely." Kane's eyes shifted to each of his assailants in the cramped space, none of them comfortable with the situation. After a few minutes the Captain growled.

"Choose your sword."

It was the second morning now that Alia found an omelet on her breakfast plate, courtesy of her twin sister's culinary skills. Alia wasn't complaining; there was no argument that Tasha was a good cook, the omelet certainly better than what Alia could concoct. The problem was that it reminded her of home, and the comparatively undramatic life of her childhood.

The only reason Tasha was such a good cook was their mother, who tried hard to instill the same skill in Alia but failed to catch her daughter's interest. 'A proper woman should know how to cook and clean a house, even if she has servants to do so,' she always said, and every Saturday she gave the servants the day off, spending the day in the kitchen cooking breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and intermittently tiding the manor in the in-between. Tasha had loved spending time with her mother doing those chores; Alia had preferred playing in the forests around their estate.

It was likely that lack of care towards cooking that resulted in Alia's small kitchen, which now gave Tasha some trouble as she found herself with all manner of ingredients and spices she'd bought and little space to put them. Alia's kitchen was across the hall from her bedroom, and about as large too. She'd recently refurbished it to fit a Zafarian theme that Tasha had few kind words for, but Alia thought was just her style. The countertops were rough stone with a rising center structure that formed a waterfall when one turned on the water, cascading musically into a smooth stone sink. Above the counter was the not-so-spacious hollowed-log cupboard held against the wall by two detailed gazelle carvings. And her favorite addition was the zebra-head dining table where she sat now.

Tasha shook the skillet she was making the omelet on, hands protected from the stone oven's fire by thick mitts. Alia almost felt sorry for how uncomfortable her sister was in this tiny workspace, but then Tasha did choose to do the cooking. After watching her sister uncomfortably glance across the hall several times Alia decided to give some sage advice.

"He prefers his eggs overdone, by the way," Alia commented, and smiled when Tasha relaxed a bit. Her sister probably wasn't going to ask Talon on her own, considering he was half naked in Alia's bed. "So, are you going to talk to me about Miguel today?"

"Maybe," Tasha mumbled in response, folding the omelet as she put it on a plate. Hers was waiting to be cooked, so she poured the egg mixture into the pan. "Could you bring this to him?"

"Can you at least tell me what you plan to do with yourself now?" Alia asked irritably, rising from her seat to grab Talon's plate.

"His breakfast will get cold," Tasha stated as if Alia hadn't known, eyes avoiding her sister's gaze, "I'll tell you later."

"Fine, whatever," Alia huffed and walked out of the kitchen with Talon's breakfast and utensils, storming into the bedroom and shutting the door.

"She still hasn't said?" Talon asked, wincing as he sat himself up enough to eat. Alia's sour mood swiftly morphed into concern for him as she set the food down to help.

"Nope, she's kept tight lipped since that night. But I think she might be telling me what her future plans are today," Alia informed him, sitting on the bed and handing him the plate. "Bartleby knows I can't fit three people in here forever."

"I'm sure you'll find a way," said Talon with a soft smile that Alia found reassuring.

Rowan's defiled form smiled when the pirates returned with her quarry bound and stripped of his possessions. He didn't even have the dignity of a shirt to cover his chest, presented in leather wrist bindings and the loincloth in which he'd slept. It was humiliatingly glorious in the Angel's eyes. The two pirates holding him brought the Conjurer to the main mast, roughly pushing his shoulders to send him to his knees with a groan. Kane looked up at his executioner through strands of golden hair, violet eyes filled with…

"Courage?" Rowan wondered to herself, viewing Kane's face upon the wall of her cavernous cage. Necromancy taught a wizard to face death with courage and even joy, but Kane had never truly grasped that lesson. It was what held him back as a Necromancer; why he excelled so much more as a Conjurer. He feared death more than anything, managing his necromancy by manipulating opponents' fears rather than controlling his own. So why would he look so calm, so at ease, as he faced her scythe? Rowan had a feeling something wasn't right, but suspected the spirit –lacking the personal knowledge of Kane she had- was unaware. "This should be interesting"

The Angel of Death raised the obsidian scythe, bringing it into position just over her shoulder, the face becoming entirely ivory skull with a perpetual grin.

"I'm not afraid of you," Kane stated softly, but to the Angel of Death his words were clearly heard. The demonic angel regarded him for an instant, then wailed and swept the razor-edged scythe forward, fully intent on taking off the Conjurer's head.

Rowan felt a change in the spirit as he got closer to executing Kane, and it was intriguing. It resembled a hunter on the verge of catching prey; this spirit was specifically targeting Kane over everyone else, feeling this unique surge of emotion at the thought of killing Kane which hadn't happened when slaying the pirates. The thrilling rush of the kill enthralled him when the scythe swung towards Kane, his mental blocks flickering ecstatically before Rowan. She grinned and cocked back both arms, not wasting a moment longer than necessary to prepare her soul and slam both fists into the stone wall.

The crypt around her soundlessly fractured, breaking apart in shards of glass to reveal a world behind the tomb. It was a vast library of Marleybonian architecture and decorum two stories tall, filled with towering shelves packed with tomes; it was her conscious mind, the mental palace she went to whenever she wandered within her thoughts. And standing in the center of this library was the enemy, turning to look at Rowan with genuine surprise.

As she suspected, it was a male, but she was surprised to see beautiful black wings and the robes of a seraph. However, the male seraph's body wasn't as beautiful as his wings, the flesh in advanced stages of decay and one eye entirely absent.

"How did you get in here," the wretched seraph screeched at Rowan, advancing towards her with his black robe billowing like smoke. In fact, it was smoke.

"You blinked," Rowan responded flatly, slamming frosted fists onto the hardwood floor. Ice dispersed from her in a flash freeze. She was taking back her body.

The Angel of Death's hair suddenly froze while ice formed over the skull, and the scythe stopped mid-swing. It was the opening Kane had anticipated, rolling towards his pirate captors. He stopped on one knee and wriggled free of his bonds just as the Angel recovered and the scythe buried inches deep into the wood where Kane's neck had been a second prior. The Angel abruptly turned towards Kane and wailed.

"Sword!" Kane ordered, and a steel longsword flew handle-first to his waiting hand. The hilt of the sword was a bronze-winged skull and the blade was highly polished steel, but reflected a green hue in the light. Kane pointed the sword at his opponent, smirking. "If you thought I'd be easy because you caught me in the morning, think again. You'll just be my morning training routine today, demon."

"You ought to have let me kill you quickly, wizard!" Rowan's tainted form raged. "Now all will die!"

"You'll have to kill me first, and that will be challenging enough," Kane warned, glancing at the Captain. "Get everyone below deck now, this will get ugly quickly."

"Go easy on my ship, she's older than you," Tiberius grunted before giving the order. The pirates didn't argue the point, especially when the intruder cast a Banshee that sent Kane running across the deck, the destructive force of the scream cracking floor boards behind him. Kane weaved a pyramid in the air before him, summoning a Minotaur minion that immediately hefted its battleaxe and snorted at the enemy.

The Angel of Death laughed and began to cast a Death spell, but his concentration was broken when Rowan mentally sucker-punched the spirit in the jaw, causing his spell to fizzle. The Minotaur shielded itself and taunted the Angel, which battered upon the tower shield spell with vicious scythe strikes.

Just as Kane expected –and Rowan hoped- the Minotaur's taunts kept attention away from the Conjurer. Now encircled by a few death shield orbs and with arms wreathed in the golden light of a Mythblade, the Conjurer cast his next spell from behind the Angel.

When the spell burst into form, a pedestal of stone holding up a gold draconian figure materialized. The successful cast caught the Angel's attention and she turned in time to see the sapphire robed draconian summon a fireball between his hands, launch into the air, and bring it down upon the Angel with a roar. When the fire dissipated the Angel wasted no time returning the favor, casting a Death spell.

Rowan was thrown against the wall by the seraph, dark energy coruscating around them as he choked her. Temporarily pinned, she was unable to stop the spell, and the Seraph sneered victoriously.

From the shadows that formed in the spell's casting an armor clad deer skeleton emerged, the wood of the ship rotting with each step it took. Hefting a halberd the size of Kane, the Deer Knight lunged forward in a surge of amaranthine energy. The halberd was stopped by a flaring force field of soft grey light, but that crimson-violet force surged through the shield and encompassed Kane, parasitically clinging to his bare flesh and bringing him to his knees.

His Minotaur minion, enraged by the attack upon its master, charged at the Deer Knight and swung hard towards the crimson jewel on the chest plate of the abomination's armor. The Knight turned to face the oncoming rage, coldly thrusting its halberd forth. The Minotaur was impaled by its own momentum, becoming another victim of that parasitic energy. It wrapped around the Minotaur's neck, suffocating it. The Angel of Death delivered the final blow as the Deer Knight dissolved into mist, decapitating the minion. Kane watched the Minotaur's body become dust upon the deck, gritting his teeth when the leeching force sapped at his soul.

Kane was uncomfortably familiar with lingering spell effects, and knew he couldn't spare a second waiting for the pain to dissipate. He fell forward, catching himself with his hands. The last Death shield orbiting him burst into a protective bubble around Kane, ripping the toxic energy from his skin.

The shield flickered, a subtle reminder that this reprieve would be short, so Kane took advantage of the chance to concentrate, standing and etched a Balance Symbol in the air before him. The Spirit Blade spell enveloped his arms in tricolored light just before his shield faded and the dark energy rushed back to him. It was more forceful this time too, knocking him backwards against the ship's railing. She trapped me during my shield. Should've seen that coming.

He barely had time to concentrate though as the Rowan's possessed form rushed at him, swinging the scythe over her head. Kane stumbled to evade, feeling the blade cut the air beside him and cleave into the rail. Kane hastily cast a stun, the force sending both combatants backwards to get some distance between them despite having little paralytic effect on the Angel beyond agitating the monstrosity.

That agitation led to the casting of another Death spell, this one creating a brilliant blue light that rushed towards the disemboweled Dog corpse. When spell met corpse, the Dog's flesh evaporated and as a pristine ivory skeleton stood up, brandished its blade, and charged at Kane. They clashed blades, Kane deflecting the sword strike and stumbling away from his new attacker, distracted by pain.

The skeletal pirate turned around and swung again, just as the leeching force sent a powerful wave of pain through his body. Kane tried to block but his strength faltered, the cutlass sinking into his left bicep. Kane cried out and grabbed the pirate's arm with his left, holding him still so Kane could plunge his sword into the undead's ribcage, where the blade's emerald sheen turned into a brilliant green radiance. A forceful explosion of Life magic followed, scattering the Dog across the deck.

Kane moved his sword hand to place his fist over the lacerated bicep, trying to stem the bleeding. It felt like the blade may have gone down to the bone, and severed enough muscle to make his arm too painful to use effectively. As if to trade one pain for another, the toxic energy that had been leeching his vitality finally relinquished its hold, leaving him to bleed the rest of his life force onto the deck. Gritting his teeth, Kane glared at Rowan's vile form.

The Angel of Death glared back at him, though if there was actually emotion in those blazing green eyes he couldn't tell. He grimaced as the Angel moved towards him, poised to strike him down once and for all, and Kane just couldn't muster the strength to push through the pain and blood loss to try and flee. Where can I flee? No, this is it; this is where I die… On a forsaken pirate's ship at the hands of a woman I let get to me…

Kane closed his eyes and tried to still his furious heart, tried to do what Dworgyn had taught them to do at every lesson he'd ever had. He tried to follow the lessons of his sensei, to accept his death with honor with sword in hand. Rowan is a more worthy opponent to kill me than Talon, I guess.

Instead of feeling the cold sting of death though, Kane felt the rush of an electrical current in the air, a muffled crack of thunder resounding feet away from him.

Alia and Tasha sat in a small diner in the Wizard City Shopping District (purposely not the same one they had bickered with Rowan and Kane inside of weeks ago) enjoying a full course meal that neither of them had to prepare in any capacity. Alia was actually dressed up for once, wearing a bright green blouse and dark violet trousers with her brown hair well combed and contained in a braid (Tasha's doing) that went down to her lower back. Alia wasn't a fan of braids really, but she couldn't deny the pleasure she felt in actually looking presentable again. Tasha was in an icicle blue dress, her bare shoulders covered by a soft white shrug and her hair pulled up in a small bun.

They were only here at Tasha's insistence, and Talon's assertions that he'd be fine for a few hours. Alia hadn't actually wanted to go out but Tasha had some errands she wanted to get done with Alia's help, and the Diviner got the feeling she'd be getting some info out of her sister in the process. So far Tasha was still clammed up, but part way through the meal that changed.

"I'm reapplying to Ravenwood," Tasha blurted out like she'd been contemplating how to say it for hours and gave up.

"You can do that?" asked Alia, raising an eyebrow but not pausing her eating.

"Yep. I already submitted my application actually," Tasha explained. "To be honest, I've been talking with Professor Greyrose about returning for months now," she admitted.

"Seriously? Did you leave Miguel because you regretted quitting school?" Alia continued to look at her sister incredulously.

"I haven't left him!" Tasha cried out, her hands moving in front of her as if to push the notion itself under the table. Her eyes went wide as it dawned on her that her voice had risen, and she looked around the room in a panic. A few people glanced at them, but then paid no further mind to the girls. "We're just…" she forced herself to a hushed tone, and Alia could see on her face that she was reigning in her emotion. Composure regained, she carried on, "separated. Until we work out a change in our living situation, we've separated. I am not divorcing him."

"I'm sure glad to hear that," Alia smiled, polishing off the last of her meal. "I've always thought of you two as an ideal couple."

"Sorry to disappoint you," Tasha sighed, "but we aren't all that idyllic."

"Perhaps not," Alia agreed with a nod, "But every couple has its problems, even the good ones. I'm sure you'll get through this one… whatever it is."

"I'd rather not talk about that anymore here," Tasha admitted, looking around the diner sheepishly again.

"Alright then, so what are your plans concerning going back to Ravenwood?" Alia changed the subject as requested with little qualm; that outburst even embarrassed her. It was obviously too touchy a subject for public conversation. "I mean, you missed a whole year of school after all."

"Actually…" Tasha twirled her fork on her plate, "I've been catching up on my studies with Professor Greyrose too…" Tasha looked even more embarrassed, "Long distance education, lots of reading material. So I'm really only behind in actually attempting to cast a few spells, and retrieving their ritual ingredients. Professor Greyrose estimates I'm only a few weeks behind right now."

"There you go, being all brilliant again," Alia grumbled, swigging down what was left of her root beer.

"You'd be just as brilliant if you actually applied yourself and paid attention in class, you know," Tasha chastised.

"Yes, mother, I know," Alia mocked, rolling her eyes and diverting the conversation back at Tasha, "So I guess we need to get you some books huh?"

"And some furniture," Tasha added. Alia stared at her blankly.

"For what?"

"My dorm, of course," Tasha shook her head slowly, disappointed by her sister's blank face. "I can't excel in class if I'm sleeping on your floor every night."

"Yeah, I know that but…" Alia muttered.

"But what?" Tasha narrowed her eyes.

"Nevermind," Alia decided to save that for later, rising from her seat. "Shall we get your books now?"

"Should probably get some for Talon too," Tasha commented, letting her sister's previous thought slip away, "He's mentioned being rather bored several times."

"You actually went in my room to talk with him?" replied Alia, shocked that her sister had actually interacted with Talon while he was there.

"I didn't have to, he's quite vocal about it," Tasha told her with a scowl. "You're just always asleep when he does." It was Alia's turn now to look embarrassed and shrug.

The Angel of Death shuddered and stumbled backward, static crackling around her as painful wails left her skeletal throat. Kane looked at the scene for a moment, perplexed. Did Miguel just come to help? What spell was that?!

"Haha," the laugh was unmistakably Captain Tiberius, another crackle of electricity following it as a fist-sized ball of lightning collided with Rowan's back. "It works! Load me more shots, Spark!" Tiberius approached the now prone form of the Angel with sword drawn.

"What do you think you're doing?!" Kane snapped.

"If you think I'll leave my ship's safety in your hands, you have another thing coming, wizard," Tiberius growled. "My ship, my crew, and I won't stand by, and let someone else defend it! Get him below deck to Bones," the Captain ordered Spark when the Doberman handed over two loaded flintlock pistols.

"NO, I'm not leaving! This battle isn't done," Kane growled back.

"It is for you," the Captain barked, "we can take it from here, I think."

Both intruder and resident souls were beginning to recover awareness. That electrical shock had been very different from normal Storm electrocution, briefly paralyzing Rowan's body and stunning the two combatants. The library spun around them as seraph and wizard sought to get to their feet and retake the helm of Rowan's body.

Unfortunately for the Captain, the malevolent soul was first regaining control, the Angel's body jolting into motion. Nimbly avoiding the sword he held towards her, Rowan's body rose with a bone hand outstretched towards his throat. Her unnatural speed left him little time to react, and she had him held up by his throat, paws inches off the deck.

"This is your last warning, animal," the Angel hissed, emerald eyes blazing into Tiberius', "I will tolerate no further interruptions! AGH!" The Angel's head snapped back, shadows receding to allow flesh to reclaim Rowan's face. Rowan had ice-cloaked hands covering the seraph's own throat, bashing his head repeatedly into a bookshelf. Rowan's newly formed face tilted forward again to regard the Captain with a hesitant smile. "Sorry, I'm not usually like this…"

"A shame," Captain Tiberius choked out, "Would've loved meeting, on better terms." He tried to kick out, to break her arm or get some hold on her, but the Angel held him at arm's length and her strength wasn't faltering.

Kane watched the fight unfold as he struggled against Spark's grip, seeing the Captain get lifted off the deck by his former lover. The entire scene was hazy, his mind failing to register the details of the world around him as the blood loss began to exact its toll. Kane closed his eyes and steadied his breathing, forcing mental clarity through his Samoorai training. He needed to get Rowan back in control of her mind and loosen the invading spirit's grasp on her body long enough that she could take herself to a location of safety. Somehow… Ugh, no! I have to survive! This battle isn't over!

Wait… that's it… Pain. It was a hypothesis at best, barely worthy of the title of a theory, but it was all Kane's brain could manage right now. He stopped struggling against Spark, looking the Dog directly in the eyes.

"I can end this right now, if you let me go," Kane declared with the confidence of a veteran warrior mixed with the desperation of a dying man. Considering the Conjurer's plea for a moment, Spark complied and released him before perplexedly receiving Kane's sword. The Conjurer didn't explain, focusing on the fear in his heart and within those on deck, his right hand directing dark energy into the symbol of the Death school. When it was cast, the symbol burst into a spiked ball of white light, the spikes growing and receding randomly. This threatening ball of energy encircled Kane, but he paid it no heed and took back his sword.

"Hey, Rowan!" Kane shouted, hefting his sword offensively. "How about you stop messing around with these Dogs and take the life you came for?"

Rowan's vile form turned towards Kane, dropping Captain Tiberius and picking up Terminus. The instant she touched the staff the obsidian scythe blade sprung from the gaping mouth. Rowan struggled against the Seraph but she was bound by shadows against a bookcase, only able to watch as her body moved towards Kane. There was victory in that Seraph's eyes, a victory long waited for.

"Come finish the job," Kane urged, spreading his legs for balance as his left arm hung limply.

The Angel hefted the scythe and drew it back over her right shoulder, intent on skewering Kane from shoulder to groin, and the Conjurer made no move to defend. Only when the Angel was atop him, bringing the scythe down, did he react, bringing the sword up to catch the shaft of the scythe against the winged hilt, just under Terminus' ribcage. It was a viable defensive maneuver, but Kane didn't have the strength to maintain it as the loss of blood weakened him. His arm gave out against the force of Rowan's blow, causing the scythe to drop and the blade edge to carve his flesh, scraping against his left shoulder blade. The glowing orb burst, the trap's magic serrating the scythe's edge and making the laceration ragged.

Kane clenched his teeth, hissing and shutting his eyes against the pain and forcing his knees not to buckle. The Angel grinned and bore down on the scythe's shaft, determined to bring Kane to his knees. But then Kane's eyes flew open, and he grinned through the pain.

"Got ya," he murmured, just as white streaks of light glimmered around him. A dense cloud formed, before rushing along the scythe's shaft to condense into a swirling ball orbiting the Angel of Death. The trap was set, and the Angel fell for his feint.

With a surge of adrenaline fueled strength Kane pushed his sword forward, shoving the scythe back. With a twist of his sword Kane lined up the edge and brought it down in a diagonal slash towards Rowan's left thigh, connecting squarely in the middle. When sword met robe-cloaked leg, the trap spell burst and covered his sword in white light. The Life magic of the sword, empowered by the trap, cleaved through her body as if it were rice paper, severing her leg completely. Rowan crumbled to the deck in a heap.

For mortals Life magic is melodious, beautiful, and invigorating; for the undead Life magic is like nails on a chalkboard, a thousand children in screaming fits, and saps vigor from their souls. It was that sort of dreadfulness that filled Rowan's body as the sword's magic cut her, exasperating the pain of amputation. Within her mental palace her soul was trapped by tendrils of shadow summoned by the Dark Seraph she fought, but as she felt the pain of Kane's attack she found those bonds weakening. She gazed at her opponent across the library aisle, shuddering on his knees. He seemed to be in agony, as if the pain Rowan felt was multiplied for him.

Rowan began to contemplate the meaning of this but abruptly stopped herself. Now was the time to act, to barge through the pain and remove him from her conscious mind when he was at his weakest. Rowan flexed her arms and easily broke the weakened bindings, charging forward with her freed hands freshly frosted.

"Get out of my head!" Rowan ordered, grabbing him by his rotting scalp and covering his face in a thick layer of ice. Her right hand swung back before plunging into the Seraph's chest, fingers wrapping around his withered heart. Rowan poured all of her magic and will to regain control into forcing him out of her mind, manifesting as ice that crawled along his decayed flesh until he was entombed. Gritting her teeth, Rowan ripped her hands free and put all her force into a punch to his sternum, shattering the Seraph.

It all took place in the instant of amputation, Rowan's vile form dissolving into mist to reveal her flesh, and in more ways than were probably decent. With the Seraph banished Rowan was once again human, and once more clad in nothing but a silken, semi-transparent nightgown. The wounds she'd received as the Angel physically manifested, her ectoplasmic blood seeping from a gash across her bosom and her thigh gushing the iridescent green fluid upon the deck. Kane dropped his sword to pick up Rowan's severed leg by the ankle.

"Sorry. Take it and leave," Kane held the leg out to her, an apologetic expression on his face. Ectoplasm dripped out of the leg and onto her lap, the flow increasing when she grabbed her own thigh to reclaim the limb. Her green eyes looked at his with hurt, sorrow, sympathy, and regret.

"It was a corrupted male Seraph, with black wings and rotted flesh," She blurted out, holding the leg against her chest. "An ancient mind, too." Kane nodded in understanding.

"I'll find out what I can, but stay away from me," Kane commanded. Rowan looked hurt by this, eyes shifting to the blood that was painting his left side crimson.

It's probably better that way for now, she decided, dissipating in grey smog as she teleported. Kane sighed in relief at her departure.

"So, is that what she looks like, when she's not angry?" Captain Tiberius quipped from behind Kane. The Conjurer swayed as he turned to face the Rottweiler. "I think I might see now, why you liked her," he smirked.

"Shut up…" Kane murmured, swaying again. "I…" The Conjurer tilted forward, barely registering Spark's quick rescue and declarations of medical need as the black curtain that hung over his mind closed, and he fainted.