Author's Note: To those of you who still follow this story; I am so honored that you do, and so sorry it has taken me so long to write this chapter. It is a huge chapter filled with critical exposition and little action, making it extremely dialogue heavy and not necessarily exciting to write. As a result, the writer's block was massive on this. I mulled it over in my head for months at a time, and my life arrangement lately doesn't really foster creativity. I am actively seeking to change that, because I want and NEED to finish this story, and have so many scenes I am eager to share with my readers.

So, prepare yourselves for a big chapter, and I promise new ones will follow in the coming months. I thank you for reading my tale, and thank you for not giving up on it, or me for that matter. And I love reading reviews!

Chapter 15: Meeting the Family Redux

(2 weeks, 6 days post-Incident)

Alia Sunsword stepped through the portal door to her sister's island castle an hour before the dinner with Talon's parents, hoping Tasha would have something for her to do. She needed a distraction right now; this semester was proving brutal for her as her studies only grew more elaborate and complex while her magic continued to be devoted to the task of healing her friend. It left her little energy during classes for spellcraft practice, and she found her focus constantly shifting during lectures and study periods. More than once Talon mentioned that she should seek a tutor, but she refused to discuss it further with him; what if her tutor found out about Talon's condition? Word would travel like fiendfyre across Wizard City, which is exactly what they sought to avoid.

Alia groaned as she pulled the furred cloak she wore tighter around herself. She just had to pick this castle, didn't she? Alia was standing on a floating rock adjacent to the actual island, connected by a teleportation dais. The distance between the two land masses was likely the reason that green grass surrounded Alia's feet instead of snow, but the air still held a biting chill. She glared across the expanse of sky at the tower on the main island.

Does put on a better show than my hut, though… Alia sighed and her shoulders dropped at the realization. It was a very impressive castle, built from polished stone and likely fifteen times the square footage of her homely hut. The corners were adorned with towers that rose at least three stories high, capped with brick-red tiled dome roofs adorned with crimson flags (for added pretentiousness in Alia's opinion) and another tower twice as tall loomed over the three-man-tall oak double doors. But the most impressive feature that really made the façade awe-inspiring was the massive central tower; at least four times the height of the corner towers, one could surmise the castle below served as nothing more than a pedestal for the structure.

The majesty of the entire property was enhanced by the surrounding landscape; the castle stood proudly upon a rocky plateau surrounded by large snowcapped hills, and overlooked a small lake which was bordered by a –somehow- vibrant green valley powdered with snow. Birch trees were plentiful enough to introduce sparse verticality to the grassy plain that Alia walked upon, briskly moving towards a sloped natural arch that crossed the lake and rose to the plateau. She had to traverse another bridge, this one constructed, that crossed a moat around the castle before she could reach the doors.

The finishing touch on this wintery wonderland scenery was that the lake and moat were completely frozen over, causing sunlight to dance between the fallen snow on the cliffs and the icy surface in a frenzy. It reminded Alia of the prank glitter bombs older students would throw into the freshman dorm rooms. Alia hated those pranks; until she was old enough to participate, of course. The Diviner entered without knocking, calling out into the cavernous grand hall.

"Hey sis, your guests are ravenously storming the castle! I've only just kept them at bay!"

She shut the hefty door, snowflakes dancing around her dark brown trousers and the tail of her cloak. They fell gingerly onto the crimson runner that decorated the center of the room.

That carpet ran the length of the grand hall before draping over wide stairs, subtly aiding to draw the gaze onto the centerpiece of the platform at the top; a fireplace as wide as the staircase and nearly as tall, adorned at its apex with a shield emblem cast in gold.

"What?! I was supposed to have another hour! What time is it?!" Tasha's exclamation echoed through the hall as she appeared on a balcony above the fireplace, her hair tightly woven into a bun held together by a pair of enchanted icicles. Her robes were dark blue and simple in design, though pristinely creased. Alia couldn't help but notice that her sister remained well composed even as fear filled her eyes and her knuckles clenched a wood spoon like a battle wand.

"Relax," Alia laughed as she ascended the staircase to the left of the fireplace, hugging her sister when the two met. "You still have that hour." She stepped back to survey Tasha. "Irritating as hell to see not even a hair out of place as you freak out though."

"Not all of us wear our emotions on our sleeves, you know," Tasha retorted with a playful smirk, smacking her sister's arm with the spoon. "Now please come help me in the kitchen. We are making good time but an extra hand can't hurt." Tasha grabbed her sister's hand and guided her further into the castle.

They passed through the long dining hall, where a few piggles were busy setting the elongated hickory table for the dinner. They didn't linger long in this room, heading straight to the back where a fifteen foot tall mirror stood, framed in granite with gold vine relief. When the girls came to a stop before it, their reflections began to ripple. In less than a minute their image had dissolved to reveal a torch-lit, windowless room. There was a similar regiment of piggles in there, busily fluttering about with pots, vegetables, and knives.

"Get that turkey in the oven now, boys! And get those cabbages chopped!" Tasha began barking orders like a captain on a ship before she had a full calf through the magical mirror, pointing this way and that and smiling as her corpulent fairies followed her commands. Tasha's kitchen was at least five times the size of Alia's, with two additional rooms on either side closed off by metal gates, suggesting this was once a dungeon. Some of the rooms were well stocked with crates and pots, while others had huge casks holding hundreds of gallons of refreshments, one or two of which Alia knew Tasha would not serve to anyone, even herself. Unlike Alia's rough Zafarian furnishings the central kitchen was equipped with modern, polished metal cookware. Alia watched as dark blue and violet piggles wrestled a turkey twice their size into a brick oven that could have fit three.

"Did you-?"

"Yes, shortly after separating from my husband I decided to upgrade my kitchen," Tasha interrupted, crossing her arms. "Can we please not discuss the separation at dinner, by the way? After Dworgyn contacted me with more information about Rowan, I felt it… necessary to invite Miguel," Tasha frowned deeply. "We may be separated but he is still family. So please… it will be awkward enough with him here; don't make it worse by bringing it up." Alia groaned and embraced her sister.

"I won't, I promise," she whispered into Tasha's shoulder. "Now, point me in the direction of work to be done," Alia commanded as the twins broke their embrace. Tasha gestured to one of the jail cell pantries to their left.

"The piggles are rubbish at getting the small spice containers. I need thyme, rosemary, red pepper, and parsley," she instructed. Alia feigned a salute.

Half an hour before guests were to arrive, 'Taskmaster' Tasha had declared the piggle chefs capable of completing the job. Alia looked unconvinced as the twins untied their aprons and hung them on nearby hooks.

"I really don't like how that purple polka-dot one flies around with that butcher knife. You sure they will be fine?" Tasha shrugged off her concerns.

"Ramsey may fly like he has wet wings, but he's one of my best in the kitchen. The whole flock has been caring for themselves ever since I moved into Miguel's mansion, Alia. They will be fine. You, on the other hand," Tasha suddenly grabbed Alia by the wrist, "need to get changed. This is to be a proper dinner, just as Mother would want." Alia frowned and her brow furrowed. "Don't worry sis, I knew you wouldn't come prepared. You've been the Grizzleheimian country girl since you could walk. I've got a dress for you in my room." Alia just grinned at her sister's back and let herself get dragged to the mirror. Instead of the image dissolving to reveal the dining room the girls had previously come from, the mirror revealed an ornately decorated bedroom.

The room they entered now was nearly as large as Alia's hut, mostly square except for a three-sided alcove bathed in the light of wide, floor to ceiling windows. The bottom of the middle window was obscured by the headboard of an intricately carved Avalonian king size bed draped in a vibrant blue, snowflake patterned quilt. The rest of the room was furnished with a mixture of Avalonian and Marleybonian furniture, including multiple armoires and two full size bronze-framed mirrors.

"Hey Tasha," Alia interrupted the silence between the girls as they got undressed to change. "Why are you taking up a dorm room at Ravenwood if you have uncle Fester's castle, which is fully furnished and livable?" Tasha paused undoing her bra behind a Mooshian folding screen. She had never really pondered the question over the last few days. It was a valid inquiry.

She had acquired the castle two years before marrying Miguel, while the group was traveling in Avalon. It was an inheritance from their uncle Ferdinand, a rather wealthy duke of Avalon who had more than one estate at the time of his death. Their father inquired as to the girls' interest in the place, and bequeathed it to Tasha when her sisters refused the offer; she had needed a place to keep her expanding flock of piggles. In the years following, she spent a lot of time here with her sisters and with Miguel, using either his mansion or her castle for large meals, as the others lacked sufficiently sized dining areas. There were a lot of fond memories here.

"Too many memories right now, perhaps," Tasha suggested, removing the bra and tossing it. "I honestly haven't even considered moving back into Winter Wind. With you and Talon stuck in your hut, Rowan in self-imposed exile, Kane traveling the Spiral, and Miguel and I separated, this place would get pretty lonely after a while. I don't know why Uncle Ferdinand liked this place so much, since he was mostly alone. It is really big for just one little lady like me."

"Little lady?" Alia raised her brow, looking over at her sister as she also tossed her clothes on the bed. "Maybe you haven't noticed, but that butt ain't what it used to be." Tasha blushed as she pulled a dress out of the armoire while still behind the screen.

"And living on campus will encourage less magic and more walking, which should help with that problem too," Tasha mused. "Your dress is hanging in the armoire by the rose painting, by the way." Alia walked over to the armoire mentioned and opened the doors, groaning audibly at the only clothing in there that wasn't some shade of blue.

"Raven help me… Tasha, two things," Alia scowled as she took the garment. "Are you seriously going to make me wear this, and where did you get the money?"

"Yes. And our finances are not separated," Tasha replied with a grin so mischievous it belonged on Alia's face. Tasha walked out in her own dress to show off to Alia. "Zip me up, will you?" Alia grinned back at her twin.

"In that case, I'll flaunt it in his face like I'm on a runway."

"Well, it is good to see at least one of those sisters has proper taste," Anita Falmea Skullstar commented to her husband, as the two stood beyond the entry portal to Tasha's wintry tower. She eyed the towering stone structure in the center of the island with some agreeability, though was clearly put out by the cold winds blowing snow across its fields, wisps of the white powder dancing in its wake.

"Anita, try to be more amicable than that. This is a beautiful castle, and gorgeous island," Viktor responded, removing his bowler cap to rob the wind of the opportunity. He wore the same thick coat he'd worn a week ago, when they first met Talon's friends, and looked much more comfortable in its embrace than Anita did in her coat.

"You are ever the gentleman," she muttered back with a bit of sarcasm.

"I've matured immensely," Viktor pointed out with an impish grin as they made their way down the hill and towards the tower. They were greeted –well, greeted at first- at the large wooden doors by Anita's biggest fan.

"Oh, it's just you two," Alia scowled, holding the door open more out of duty than courtesy. She was dressed in a vibrant jade ball gown with pineapple-yellow embroidery wrapping around the waist and trimming the collar, which was a conservative scoop. The same embroidery trimmed the tight half-length sleeves and floor length skirt. "Mrs. Bonfire and Frosty the Crime Boss are here, Sis," she announced, her proclamation punctuated by a theatric echo.

"I prefer my actual name, Miss Sunsword," Viktor informed her, his politeness edging towards anger as his eyes narrowed and his accent thickened. Alia shrugged and smiled sweetly.

"And I don't care." She spoke as sweetly as possible as she offered to take their coats. Anita huffed and tossed the coat at the smaller woman, but Viktor more slowly handed his coat over, forcing Alia to reach for it and close their distance.

"I am as interested in getting this situation smoothly concluded as you are," Viktor told her quietly. "The less agitated my wife is the better. I am sorry for our first meeting, but this one will end up going the same way if you can't act civil in our presence." He released his coat, but Alia didn't break eye contact with him, staring down the shorter man.

"If civility is your desire, Mr. Skullstar, then I suggest you get your wife under control," Alia demanded, hanging their coats on a nearby hook. "And don't wear pinstripes; they aren't making you look any taller," she added with that deceptively sweet smile. "Sit wherever you like while you wait for dinner." She motioned to the various finely crafted crimson settees that sat against the walls of the hall, turning her back to them as she made her way to the staircase.

"I see the harlot is as charming as ever," Anita commented, walking down the main hall to examine various paintings the twins' uncle had acquired over the years. .

"Don't you start too, my candlelight," Viktor chided as he followed her closely, "she's bad enough to begin with."

"I don't think they got your memo about dressing classy. Frosty Capone is in a horrid navy pinstripe suit and the Dark Phoenix is wearing what I assume is an olive 'power' suit," Alia declared (air quotes included) as she sauntered through the mirror into the kitchen. Her left hand eventually meandered to her shoulder, playing with the end of her single long braid.

"Ah well," Tasha sighed, directing the finishing touches of the dinner but touching nothing while finely dressed. "Mother did always say to look your best no matter the guest." Alia cringed at the childhood rhyme. "Go check on the table settings will you? The piggles haven't had to set the table for humans for a year."

Doing as requested, Alia went out to the dining hall to check on the porcine fairies' work. Here and there she corrected the positioning of various utensils, smiling at how the piggles clearly got confused as to how to arrange the knife and fork; she had been confused by that as well until she was fifteen. It was a sad smile though, tainted by those pesky childhood memories of a time when table etiquette was the most complicated thing in her life. It was all so difficult then.

Now she had an ex-boyfriend of her sister recuperating in her bed after a disastrous breakup, recently ended her own intermittent pseudo-relationship, felt conflicted about what she really wanted from men, and her sister was demonically possessed with murderous intentions. It all left her feeling so naïve.

As she moved about the table, lost in her thoughts, her eyes fell upon a placard bearing an unfamiliar name. Emmaline Silverheart, Alia noted the name, and then became consciously aware of the other placards on the table. Emmaline was placed beside Alia, who sat at the right side of the head of the table, which was of course Tasha. The left side of the table had Dworgyn sitting beside Tasha, then Viktor and Anita. Alia cringed when she noticed that Miguel was placed beside Emmaline; like Anita, he was designated to sit furthest from the head of the table. Mother had always taught them that it was an honor to be placed beside the host/hostess at the head of the table, which left the furthest seats for the obviously least favored quests. Living separately, buying expensive dresses with his account, refusing to speak, and marking him as a least favored guest; Alia wondered once again just what Miguel had done to deserve Tasha's wrath.

She still had not been told the whole story by her twin. Tasha would dance around the subject like a Leprechaun at a river dance festival, looking so distraught by thoughts of that night that Alia felt vile for wanting to pry for more info. All she ever told was that she chose the breakup, that he had betrayed her trust and insulted her honor. But she never clarified beyond that. Alia lightly ran her fingers over the beautifully scrawled name. "By the Raven, you better get your mind straight, mi cuñado, and apologize. Fast. None of us need this extra drama right now."

As if summoned by her words, the next knock upon the entry door led to Alia staring at her brother-in-law over the threshold. He wore a suit like the Skullstars', but Alia felt he wore it much better than those two; it was likely bias on her part though. The color reminded her of burnished bronze, accentuated with a deep violet collar and cuffs. Despite being a typical color scheme for Miguel, this suit was notably newer, and the tails ran down to his calves. He also had forgone his musketeer cap for a proper matching top hat adorned with a small lilac feather, for a splash of brighter color.

"Long day in court, huh? No time to change, mi cuñado?" Alia inquired, one brunette brow rising along with a corner of her mouth.

"I was told to dress formalmente for this occasion," Miguel responded, entering the castle only when Alia stepped aside for him. "I assume you were forced, not told, the same," Miguel jested with a grin, and Alia took his tweed overcoat with an affirmative huff. "Is she… still allowing you to call me that?" His inquiring look was so pitiful Alia almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

"She hasn't said one way or the other yet, but she has stressed to me that she is not seeking divorce," Alia told him. "That's all I really know."

"Well, that is a relief," tension Alia hadn't even noticed in Miguel's shoulders released at the news. "Thank you for that information, mi cuñada."

"And it is all you are getting from me," Alia responded with a slightly harsher tone than she had intended, resetting the tension in Miguel's shoulders. "You two need to sort out this mess without making me a mediator; I have enough problems without you two," Alia patted him on the shoulder roughly and gestured to Talon's parents. "Now go meet the future queen and crown-prince of Dragonspyre while we wait for Dworgyn."

"Wait, that's Talon's parents?" Miguel eyed them from across the room, where they seemed to be having a conversation that did not involve the painting they were viewing. "Talon is the spitting image of his mother," Miguel remarked.

"Trust me on this one; her temper is ten times worse than anyone in my family." Alia rolled her eyes and leaned her arm on Miguel's shoulder. "Stay on her good side, unless she assaults me. Then kick her ass," Alia smirked wickedly.

"Assaults you?" Miguel glanced sideways at Alia with grave concern. She shrugged nonchalantly.

"Wouldn't be the first time."

This did not rest Miguel's concerns. Nonetheless, he dutifully moved across the entry hall to introduce himself to the couple. Alia watched to gauge their reaction; it looked promising. He seemed to have whatever breeding was necessary to be seen as worthy of their time. How did such stuck up, elitist pricks raise such an overly kind and tolerant man as Talon, Alia wondered to herself. If I had known who they were before getting to know Talon, I probably would have assumed he would be like them… Makes sense he'd hide his family from friends in that case. Then again, his father isn't all bad.

There was another knock on the door, this one matching the rhythm of ring-around-the-rosie, and Alia knew before she opened it that old hunchback was on the other side. He got the biggest grin out of all the guests, and Alia all but rushed to hug him.

"Why hello there dearie," Dworgyn returned her hug loosely before handing over his coat. The man had changed out his black tunic for a black suit that appeared to be allergic to an ironing board. Behind him stood a very fair-skinned young girl, no more than sixteen, wearing a simple hide cloak that did not hide the abhorrently ruffled (in Alia's opinion) salmon dress with black floral patterns she wore underneath. The skirts fell to her calves in fluffy waves. Alia found herself drawn back up to the platinum blonde hair the girl wore in matching pigtail braids down her back. The whole ensemble made her look like a china doll, which Alia found very displeasing.

"You must be Emmaline Silverheart," Alia managed to dredge out the comment without too much disgust.

"Yes, Miss…" The girl paused; blue eyes patient while she waited for Alia to introduce herself.

"Sunsword. Alia Sunsword." The Diviner replied curtly when she realized she was being questioned.

"It is a pleasure to finally meet one of Miss Skulldreamer's sisters. I've heard word around Ravenwood about you both." The girl curtsied before entering the grand hall, handing over the hide cloak that couldn't have been near enough to keep out the cold.

"None of it good, I'm sure," Alia grunted as she shut the door and turned to Dworgyn. "Why is she here? And why is she in a summer dress here?"

"Her choice," Dworgyn shrugged with his default sloppy grin, "I don't choose the wardrobe of my guests."

"I don't mind the cold," Silverheart interjected, "I barely notice it, and use pyromancy enchantments to keep my body at optimal temperature, no matter my outfit."

"Oookay…" Alia lingered on Emmaline's words. Optimal temperature, Alia thought as she shifted her perplexed gaze on Dworgyn. She sounds like Rowan when she discusses how she feigns life signs. "You end up with the strangest students."

After Alia informed Tasha all the guests were present, a crimson piggle flittered out of the dining hall with a tiny brass trumpet, and played a startlingly deep note to indicate meal time, which reverberated off the walls. Alia, playing the unwilling jade-clad announcer, stood above the roaring fire and raised her voice enough for all corners of the grand hall to hear. "Dinner has been set; all guests please follow me to the dining hall!"

As Alia entered, followed by the others, they found the majority of Tasha's platoon of piggles hovering in a stiff, attentive stance, each one sporting a crisp black bowtie and strategically placed along the walls of the room like waiters. The fireplaces centered on each side wall had been lit an hour prior, ensuring a healthy glowing flame from both sides. The table itself was further illuminated by rays of sunshine pouring down from slotted windows perfectly positioned to ensure the sunlight glimmered off the tableware. Tasha had hung alternating Storm and Ice banners along the walls, giving the hall a slight personal touch.

At the head of the table, Tasha stood beside her high-backed chair, hands clasped daintily in front of her waist. Alia swore she heard Miguel's breath catch in his throat, and grinned devilishly. His wife had bought herself a deep oceanic blue ball gown, matching her sister's in style except her collar came high on her throat, and her embroidery was baby blue. Her brown hair was tightly contained in a bun atop her head, and her poise was downright regal in its confidence and control. With the backdrop of the shimmering granite and gold mirror behind her, she most certainly looked like royalty.

"Welcome to Winter Winds Tower, my home away from home," Tasha declared, and Alia glanced just in time to catch Miguel flinch before the slight to his honor disappeared beneath his own royal-court-honed control. "Please, sit down. My piggles and I have prepared a succulent meal for us before we discuss today's business."

The conversations during the meal were simple, and only between a few of the guests. Tasha and Alia had animated discussions about current Ravenwood events and coursework amongst themselves. Emmaline was only in her second year of studies, leaving her mostly out of the conversation; she seemed content with this, preferring to methodically consume her meal. Miguel and Anita were completely silent throughout the whole meal, while Viktor and Dworgyn occasionally discussed Dragonspyre business. They both seemed particularly delighted by discussion of the latest clutch of dragons Viktor had bred. Apparently he was having trouble keeping more than half the young alive after hatching, in part because of the difficulty they were having in replicating the pure flame from Dragon Mouth Cave. So far, only those eggs heated in Wizard City's pure flame had survived. But his team of scholars had recently made a breakthrough in the Archives, and he was certain this time was going to be successful.

When dinner was concluded, Tasha clapped her hands over her head twice, and the piggles who had been diligently waiting by the walls, filling drinks when necessary, sprang into action simultaneously. Plates and goblets and silverware were removed in a flurry of feathers and fat; the table was clean in a minute or less.

"If you all would please proceed to the right, I have a lounge room that will be much more comfortable for our discussions. Dworgyn has informed me he has much information to provide so I would like us all to be sitting comfortably." There were no protests, and the entire party relocated to the lounge Tasha had mentioned.

The room was two-thirds the size of Tasha's bedroom, completely square and divided by a wide crimson carpet leading up to a raised platform that was lit by a single arched window. A few bookshelves lined the walls and Tasha had two pairs of violet settees arranged in a diamond formation with two low oak tables between each pair. As they entered, Tasha subtly tugged on Alia's sleeve to lead her to one of the settees, ensuring Miguel could not sit beside her. Miguel stoically sat across from the twins instead. The guests made themselves all comfortable as piggles rippled out of the stone in between two bookshelves along the right wall, bringing tea trays to the small tables.

"Now that we are all well fed and comfortable," Tasha declared, collecting her own tea cup, "I think it is time for us to hear your discoveries, Professor Dworgyn. Your letter made it sound like we had much to discuss."

"We do, m'lady, and sadly none of it is good." Dworgyn paused to take a drink of his own tea before his attention was directed to Alia, then back at Tasha. "Your sister is not possessed."

"Usually that's good news." Alia chuckled in spite of the situation, not touching the tea set out for her and instead lounging back with a completely unsurprised expression.

"It would have been, if it hadn't meant that her condition is much more complicated," Dworgyn sighed. "From my research, and what I gleaned from a failed exorcism, I believe your sister is the victim of a soul transplant."

"But that's an extremely rare magic, barely even documented by the ancients," Miguel, intrigued, leaned forward and clasped his hands. Dworgyn chuckled.

"You are a very well-read man, Mr. Spellblade. Her soul is conjoined with another, so intertwined that in my attempt to banish part of the offending spirit, I harmed her as well. The two entities are fully merged; I do not have the power to separate them. They are two personas within a single soul now, not two souls within a single body."

Viktor spoke up with a low and thoughtful voice as he glanced at Dworgyn. "If Death magic can do that, why didn't Malistaire Drake transplant his dead wife's soul onto a living one, instead of risking the ire of a Titan?"

"My research of the Krokonomicon," Miguel answered before Dworgyn, "stated -in no uncertain terms- that such an extensive transplant would have been rejected by both souls so forcefully, the woman alive would have died, and Sylvia Drake's soul would be destroyed." He spread his fingers in a mock explosion.

"Maybe the Dragon Titan was the safer bet," Tasha murmured, eyes wide in horror at the prospect Miguel illustrated.

"Helps that one of the two souls was born dead, then," Dworgyn responded, "and the other is an already undead spirit of such power I suspect it to be incredibly ancient. And this most likely occurred in the Spirit Realm, orchestrated by Death himself, before he resurrected Rowan from her still-birth. From there he could have overseen the process and ensured its success."

"That does sound more likely." Miguel mused. He was just reaching for his cup in the silence when a sharp chirp rang out, making him pause. Everyone looked for the source until Emmaline gasped and grabbed at her wrist, silencing the alarm.

"Sorry, that was my watch," Emmaline sheepishly declared, rising from her seat and readjusting her dress skirts. She turned to Tasha with hands folded behind her, looking at the floor. "Where is your bathroom?"

"Down the stairs, on your left," Tasha told her with a soft, understanding smile. Emmaline seemed either unaware or unaffected by that smile, swiftly exiting the room.

"Why do you even know anything about this, Miguel?" Alia spread her hands out. "You've hated necromancy more than any other magic and only studied it as much as your Balance studies required."

"As the Royal Advisor of Magic to the Queen, I must always research both known and unknown magical threats to Her Majesty and the Kingdom. Soul transplantation was a subject I uncovered while translating the Krokonomicon's pages, and I had to –unfortunately" Miguel cringed, "deeply delve into that Necromantic art. Imagine the dangers it would pose if someone transplanted a piece of a malicious soul into the Queen of Marleybone. It could be disastrous to the kingdom and its allies, possibly threatening the political stability of the whole Spiral." Miguel motioned to everyone in the room. "Even Dragonspyre and Wizard City governments could be at risk."

"Damn," Alia whistled in admiration, "I do not envy your job at all mi cuñado."

"Luckily it is incredibly difficult to pull off, as souls will naturally resist any alteration from their original state. The Krokonomicon advised against the spell ever being used, because there was no record at the time it was written of a successful transplant." Miguel explained further. "Unfortunately, that also means there is no written record of a counter-spell or reversal spell."

"Do you have plans to share this research with Marleybone's allies?" Anita suddenly spoke, reminding everyone that she was actually listening to the conversation. She had spent the entire conversation with one elbow propped on an armrest, resting her head on that hand in apparent disinterest. Her head had now shifted to give Miguel an intimidating side-eye. Miguel narrowed his eyes; it was the only visible response he showed to her implicative tone.

"Such information is not mine to dispense to allies," Miguel gave an even, all-business response. "But I will advise the Queen as such."

"How are we going to help Rowan, then," Tasha asked with clear concern, bringing the subject back to her sister.

"That's where Miss Emmaline Sliverheart comes in," Dworgyn motioned to the salmon-garbed initiate necromancer, just as she walked back into the room. "She is quite talented with defensive Death magic." Put in the spotlight, Emmaline froze while still holding the door ajar, looking around the room at the group but not making eye contact. She closed the door behind her gingerly and turned back to the group, clearing her throat.

"I had an amulet made for her, enchanted with my own Death dispel magic; it should dispel her stronger Death magic when it surfaces during her transformations." Emmaline reached for her collar bone, holding out a small bronze bauble that was hanging there, finely crafted into the shape of a stylized skull. "I also had an amulet imbued with my Death shielding spell, so I can be protected from her magic consistently, without having to cast a shield."

"Why would you need shielding from her magic consistently," Tasha inquired.

"Forgive me; the Professor must not have told you yet," Emmaline apologized, "Miss Skulldreamer has agreed to allow me to live with her as a roommate, allowing me to contain her with my shield spells should her amulet fail. Meanwhile, the Professor will continue to research a solution."

"I cannot believe Rowan agreed to that," Alia snorted, folding her arms. "She doesn't even like her own sisters staying at her place for more than a few nights."

"After discovering that exorcism was not an option, she agreed that all available safeguards must be in place to protect everyone from her other persona," Emmaline elaborated. "She claims to have killed two people already while under the Grim Reaper's control."

"Wait, she killed people?!" Tasha suddenly gasped. "I thought she put herself on house arrest to prevent that!" Alia began to shrink into her seat away from her sister as she realized she was likely to blame for this. Tasha noticed and narrowed her eyes at Alia. "What did you do, sis?"

"I may have took her to my place," Alia warily admitted, "and let her see Talon."

"What were you thinking?!" Tasha suddenly exploded, a brief spark dancing between the twins. She leaned into her sister's personal space threateningly. "She could have killed him!"

"I was trying to get them to smooth things over!" Alia snapped back; the spark seemed to have energized the Diviner and she pushed into her sister's space as well. "Rowan said her moods affected the Angel so I tried to improve her mood, and get her out of that crypt she calls a house!"

"I think it's a lovely mansion," Emmaline interjected. Alia turned from her sister to glare at the girl.

"Shut it, Dollface, nobody asked your opinion," she snapped. Emmaline didn't flinch, but did frown. Tasha smacked her sister's arm.

"Don't be rude!"

"She was rude first!"

"If you ladies are quite finished making fools of yourselves," Anita smoothly scolded them, drawing the attention of both girls. She glared at them then turned to Dworgyn, who had been watching the girls with amusement. Her face notably softened. "The Grim Reaper?"

"The other persona referred to itself as the Grim Reaper during the exorcism," Dworgyn explained. "Also, Mr. Spellblade," Dworgyn gestured to the sorcerer, "you should know that within her mind, this other spirit took the form of a decaying male dark Seraphim. Rowan also informed us that she suspects this persona has a particular target, even though it will kill others. She felt a unique interest in killing a particular individual close to her." Dworgyn held up his hands when he sensed oncoming questions. "I pried and I pried, but she refused to identify who. She might not be certain herself. Find out what you can from your sources, especially the Krokonomicon. I am certain a Reaper with a unique title and selective targets would be mentioned in that book."

"I have not come across that title yet," Miguel nodded. "But I shall make translating a priority."

"Dworgyn," Anita very sternly addressed the Death Professor, her eyes narrowing, "that woman nearly killed me. Is it wise to leave this second year student with her?"

"She did what now, darling?" Viktor suddenly perked up and turned an incensed stare upon his wife. She cringed a little, a sight Alia relished deeply; the future queen of Dragonspyre wilting under the gaze of her husband and nearly killed by her own sister. "What have you done? You made a promise!" Viktor's tea started to steam as he hissed, and Anita softly patted his shoulder.

"We will discuss this later, dear, in private. You can rightly scold me then." Alia chortled without any attempt to hide it, getting a glare from Anita.

"Thank you for your concern, Mrs. Skullstar," Emmaline bowed her head at the woman, "but I have no fear in my ability to protect myself from Miss Skulldreamer."

"Her Death shielding did save your life, after all," Dworgyn added with a smirk.

"If something does go wrong, however," Miguel solemnly brought attention to him, "and you cannot protect yourself, Miss Silverheart, contact me. I will provide you with an enchanted ring that will alert me immediately when you activate it," Miguel nodded at Emmaline, who returned the gesture. "If your precautions fail, we may have to utilize the Antonio Spellblade Wing of Newgate prison to keep her from killing more people."

"Miguel!" Tasha snapped at him now, whirling away from her sister. "We are not locking Rowan in your magic-canceling prison project! Have you even considered that your wards could prevent her from sustaining her undeath? It could destroy her!"

"I have considered that," Miguel replied coolly, though he did flinch. He did try hard to keep his cool in this argument though. "And endeavor to seek a solution that will at least keep her existing, even if she ends up weak." Miguel then folded his arms, "But if she cannot be contained safely, I would rather stop her permanently than risk her slaughtering indiscriminately through the Spiral on a rampage. I think she would agree."

"We are not killing her, Miguel!" Tasha fumed, her hair beginning to frazzle.

"I have no wish for this, mi-" he stopped himself before finishing mi amor, considering it wiser to avoid the endearment. He sighed. "I merely present it as a final option, to avoid until all other options have been exhausted."

"I cannot believe this," Tasha let out a growl, "the nerve of you to even…"

"Anyways," Viktor cleared his throat loudly, "we now have what, how, when, and what-now answered," he pointed out, seeking to change the subject. "But what about who and why? Who is this Grim Reaper, and why is it there?"

"Excellent question," Dworgyn proclaimed loudly, "to which I do not have an excellent answer. Rowan had claimed she drew Death itself into her, but I can at least tell you that was not the case. This 'Grim Reaper' is not the King of Death himself."

"Death magic has a king?" Alia interrupted Dworgyn, who gave her a playful glare. "Sorry Professor, it's just that I've never heard of this."

"Have you heard that Life magic has a queen," Dworgyn inquired.

"Ummm…" Alia looked at the ceiling as she thought. "No, I don't think it has come up."

"Probably because you are a secondary Theurgist, and don't do much extracurricular reading," Tasha jabbed at her sister, who stuck out her tongue at her twin.

"When the Titans clashed, the very first battles produced the spirit magic we know today. The first beings created from these magical clashes are regarded by scholars to be Titan-like, though not as powerful," Dworgyn lectured. "They are the rulers of their magic, but unlike Titans it is theorized they can be overthrown if one of their children gains sufficient power. The King of Death, sometimes known as Hades or even Satan, was created when Storm Lords and Ice Giants first fought each other. The Queen of Life, sometimes called Gaia or Mother Earth, is the first being of Life, when Fire Dragons and Storm Lords first fought each other. Myth has no record of a ruler known to scholars; it is suspected the being can change forms at will so may have shown up many times in legends."

"Okay," Alia nodded, following along. "And their children were created by them, or in fights that followed between the Titans?"

"Yes, to both of those."

"You think one of those later children is the spirit Rowan is merged with," Alia asked, and Dworgyn nodded. "Would knowing which one help us separate them?"

"Possibly, but this spirit knew that his name could be used against him, so I'll have to use more mundane means, which could take a lot more time." Dworgyn sighed. "Not many records of the First World exist, and the legends from that time period are… well, despicably unreliable. The Grim Reaper title is one I have heard of, but only in tales that are clearly about the King of Death himself. He may have given this moniker to one of his children and it was never recorded."

"Not a good lead to rely on, then," Alia muttered.

"I'm afraid not," Dworgyn agreed. All were silent for a moment.

"I have another question," Tasha broke the silence. "Why did this other persona assert itself now, and not earlier in her life?"

"Best guess is that she never had to draw deeply into her own sustenance to perform any magic," Dworgyn rubbed his chin as he spoke. "She told me that for the first time in her life, during what you lot have called the Incident, she had to draw power from the very magic that sustains her undead state. Given that her cohabitant is a powerful Death spirit, that Death Spirit could be the source of her reanimation. It is likely that she had accidentally awakened him when drawing from his mana, or unknowingly left an opening for him to take control, causing the transformation."

"So even if we did somehow separate them," Tasha contemplated, "the removal of the Grim Reaper might actually undo her reanimation, and she'd die because his power wasn't there to feed her life."

"Correct," Dworgyn nodded sadly. "The vestige of life energy left by your mother at Rowan's birth is not strong enough to sustain her life for long."

"Emmaline," Tasha sighed as she turned to look up at the still standing Initiate sorrowfully. The girl returned her look with curiosity. "Your plan better work, because I really don't want to kill my sister."