MW: Here with a new chapter. Surprisingly enough, this chapter came out quick. I was very excited to introduce new perspectives as well as new characters and interactions with old/new characters. I hope you enjoy this, and as always, I appreciate the support.

The next chapter will carry on from where this chapter ends, so expect lots of action...sure.


9 - At Last

"Do you know why I released you?" The headmaster's voice creaked like old floorboards, and his eyes drooped terribly. Talon felt as if the headmaster was ready to stretch his limbs a final time and just end it. But despite all that, the headmaster retained a certain sharpness that was unnatural for someone his age. And he didn't forget. Ever.

Talon stared at Ambrose, shaking his head. "No, I don't. Should I?" It wasn't like Ambrose was a big fan of his, considering he killed one of the greatest Theurgists of his era in a fit of rage. Then again, Ambrose probably wasn't a big fan of anybody.

Ambrose gave a weak chuckle, and Talon wondered why. Did he say something funny? "No, my boy, you shouldn't. I...hm. I released you because I want to talk to you about your actions."

"If you're asking me to lament, I won't." Talon hissed, somewhat vehemently.

Ambrose ignored Talon and continued. "I want to know why you did it, that is all."

"Did what? I was charged for a few things, y'know," Talon said.

Ambrose coughed loudly. "Why you killed your stepfather," He paused, then sniffed, waiting for a response.

"Why do you think? He touched my brother. He touched me. He deserved to die because he was sick. Twisted, warped, filled with a desire that mimicked malice perfectly." Talon scoffed. "And you wonder why I did it…"

"Is that the truth or did you do it because the voice told you to?" Ambrose inquired, his eyes locked on Talon's now frozen figure.

"..What?" Was Talon's response.

"Don't mock my age, boy," Ambrose answered simply. "I know of Thalomir and his power. Considering the fact that you seem...older, I assume you've merged with him?"

Talon sighed, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "Look, I don't care if you were a friend of my father's and I don't care what you know about me-I just want to get Hunter and go home."

"If I remember correctly, you have no home, Talon." Ambrose responded. "But I am willing to help." Reaching underneath his desk, the headmaster grunted with slight effort and procured the same axe that Talon had used to slay his stepfather; the axe of Thalomir and the axe of gods.

Talon's eyes widened. "Where did you-"

"I put you in the jail, Talon." Ambrose explained. "I released you. I saved you."

Talon's shock morphed into fury. "You-! Why? Why the hell would you do that? My brother-you left my brother on his own! You gave me hell, and you say that you saved me? You...I should kill you here and now, you bastard. I should-"

"Without me, you would have never met Valkyrie. Your brother wouldn't have been able to enter Ravenwood and you two would be fugitives for the entirety of your lives. Without me, you wouldn't have learned Necromancy from a man who belongs in a hospital for the mentally impaired. You wouldn't have gotten stronger and you wouldn't live up to your family name."

"What-?"

"Thalomir is your ancestor, no? It is fate-no, destiny-that his ancestors face similar hardships and rise from the ashes to become heroes before they vanish from this world, leaving only their legacy behind."

"Are you telling me that you orchestrated this to fulfill some sort of prophecy?" Talon felt the rage bubble in his throat, and for the first time in years, Thalomir spoke again.

Restrain yourself, boy. The man is good, and knows what must be done. You will do yourself a favor by listening to one so wise.

"Not necessarily. I needed you to get stronger because there is a war coming." Ambrose tossed the axe out in front of his desk and Talon caught it, fumbling slightly. "This world-the Spiral-needs you. We need a hero." The headmaster's sparkling blue eyes found Talon's angry crimson ones and in that moment, Talon swore he saw Ambrose shed a tear.

At least the headmaster knew what had to be done for the sake of saving lives.

"Why me? You should know that I'm not strong enough to do this on my own…" Talon answered, surprisingly rejecting the idea of a fight. Like Thalomir, the boy reveled in the excitement of battle. Shunning the idea of war was...different. Talon shook his head as if he had realized he made a mistake. "No, no, stop. I don't want part in the war-"

"Talon, my child, you cannot escape whether you wish to or not. In the end, this war-a war with one of the most powerful beings in existence-will envelop all and every wizard who lives in the Spiral." Ambrose ran his fingers through his silver beard. "But you are not without assistance. Your team members are not here as some of them are out vanquishing a...considerably minor threat, when compared to one such as this, but I will list them for you."

"I-" Talon began, but Ambrose silenced him with a finger.

"To begin, your group-the primary fighting force-will consist of Miranda Moonstone, a Pyromancer with a fairly mean streak. She may rank below you, but in time she will discover her potential. Next-"

"Why would you pair someone unpredictable with me?" Talon cut in. "I mean, that's not to say I'm not unpredictable, but Thalomir and I work out tactics well enough and Dworgyn taught me some advanced spells." He concluded.

Ambrose shrugged. "To see how you'd manage as a leader of a team of misfits such as yourself." He said before chuckling slightly. "I jest, my child," Talon had a feeling that the older man was not joking. "But Mirror is useful and will spend her time proving herself on the battlefield."

Talon nodded in acknowledgment, deciding to give up arguing with the headmaster.

Ambrose cleared his throat and continued. "Next is Darrien Magnus Viridian XV, a former draconian noble of the house Viridian. He cannot use magic as of yet, but is a very powerful fighter and strategist. You will have Hunter Lioncloud, a powerful Diviner who learned from...never mind. A powerful Diviner who will surely be a good addition to your team. If you feel unfit to lead, I assure you he can take control. James Duskstone, one of our legendary Thaumaturges here in Wizard City will be accompanying you as well, and will fulfill the role of a scout if need be." Ambrose cleared his throat again. "Any questions thus far?"

"Lioncloud? What's that supposed to mean? Only person I know named Lioncloud was…" Talon trailed off thoughtfully. "...Are you telling me that Lucas had a kid?"

Ambrose shrugged. "I'm not answering that one, Talon,"

Talon shook his head, dismissing the question any further. He didn't care-his problem was with Lucas, who was long dead, not his child. And how strange that the abusive man would name his kid after one he seemed to dislike so much. "I...I'm good. No more to ask."

Continuing once more, Ambrose sniffed. "In order to make you feel just a little more like a leader, I have given you Leif Shadowspear, a Magus, just like Mirror. He is very quiet, but I have a feeling he will open up to you. Lastly, you will have one of my most energetic students, William Lightningwind and whoever he hopes to bring along-"

Yet again, Ambrose was interrupted. "Whoever he hopes to bring along? What's that supposed to mean?"

Ambrose shrugged again, a smirk forming in his mind. He was content with being cryptic for the time being. "You're the leader. You control their actions, I don't."

Talon scoffed and looked away.

"Anyways, as I was saying, you will have the Diviner William Lightningwind and whoever he decides to bring with him and one of our newer students who you're very familiar with, Astra Drake." Talon waited for him to finish this time. "Since we have no knowledge of our...opponent's movements, you will work with your team for six weeks. By that time, you should have sufficient control over your team members and we should be ready for war."

"I only know one Astra, and her name isn't Drake. ...Do you enjoy this?" Talon asked, the anger filling him again. "Do you enjoy toying with me like this?"

Ambrose did not respond to his questions. "I'm sure you know this Astra quite well, my boy. Though she may not remember you." He clapped his hands together. "Well! In the meantime, I have prepared for you a dorm-it's just left into Ravenwood and right around the corner-which you will be sharing with another, unfortunately. As an adult, I expect you to be able to take care of yourself, so here-" He produced a pouch of gold from thin air and threw it at Talon, who caught it clumsily, "-buy your own furniture and other appliances. Until then, my boy!"

"Wait-!" Talon began, but his vision was rudely blocked by the silvery feathers of the abnormally intelligent owl, Gamma and stumbled backwards out of the headmaster's office through the now open door.

And once again, he was on his own. Talon almost felt inclined to welcome the solitude, but it wouldn't last for long because he was being thrust headlong into a war he knew almost nothing about with people he barely knew or trusted. On top of that, he had a roommate who he was sure couldn't be trusted. If someone were testing his mental stability, they would have to be sure to note that six years in prison had turned him into a rage-filled cynic.

He sighed in exasperation and scratched at the back of his head. "Oh, man. ...Thalomir? You there, Thalomir?"

The way you call me so casually angers me.

"What do you want me to say?" Talon inquired aloud as he began walking before realizing that he had no idea where the bazaar was and focused his attention on his current conversation. "Do you want me to call you by your title? That's like if you called me by my full name every time you spoke to me. You just call me 'boy', so why can't I just call you 'Thalomir'?"

That is true.

"See?" Talon shook his head. "Alright, whatever. I'm just going to go and check out the dorm...left into Ravenwood and then right, he said..?" Talon questioned, to reassure himself that he was right. He turned left from the gates lesson to Ambrose's office and glanced up, the large letters that spelled out ""R-A-V-E-N-W-O-O-D" mesmerizing. He hadn't quite seen anything like it, having grown up in Marleybone. Everything he had seen so far in Wizard City was so...pristine, but granted, he had only seen the jails and pieces of Briskbreeze, Colossus Avenue and the Commons, so there wasn't much he could call pretty. Talon pulled himself from his dazed state and entered the gate, inching through the bustling throng of wizards, young and fairly old as best he could. For a moment in the "gate"-which more resembled a tunnel than a gate-Talon was submerged in darkness, and the moment his eyes began to adjust to the change in brightness, he was thrust back into light again.

Whoa.

What he was greeted with was vastly different from his home in Marleybone. Sure, he'd been with his father to a variety of places, but the last time he was in Wizard City, he was two years old, and like hell he'd be able to remember that. His eyes lingered on Bartleby and the trees with eyes that looked at him and the crowd of wizards as he entered Ravenwood for the first time in his life. Well, maybe the second, but that was unnecessary.

Ha! A being of your power should be marveled. You should be-

"Shut up for a second," Talon hissed absentmindedly. His brain began to fail, and he felt as if he were a child who believed they could drink an entire glass of milk without stopping to breathe, and attempted to, but failed miserably, choking on the milk and spitting it out repeatedly.

"First time?"

Talon was snapped back to reality, and he whirled around hastily, staring at the person who had placed a hand on his shoulder. His eyes flashed for a split-second out of...fear? But he regained his composure swiftly and unnoticably. "You are..?" He asked instead.

"Mirror," The girl said, her eyes locking with his. She extended her hand in a gesture of friendliness.

She was short. Well, shorter than Talon, and Talon was definitely short for both his age and a Marleybonian. 5'6" wasn't an intimidating height for a Marleybonian male such as himself and her 5'3" wasn't all too representative of her power. Assuming she was strong, of course.

"I'm-" Talon was interrupted by Thalomir's voice. The overlord seemed almost afraid, or at least, concerned for Talon's safety? This was new. Usually Thalomir would give Talon information that would ensure his own survival, not the boy's.

Israfel. Don't say what you like to be called. They know you here. They know the you who revels in violence, the you who lives to kill. They can use it against you. Israfel.

"I'm Israfel," Talon responded, his lips curling upwards to form a slight smile. Israfel. Too long. Too...unique. Too nostalgic. He didn't need that name anymore, but if it guaranteed his safety, he would use it. No matter how much it bothered him.

"Wow," Mirror responded. "Haven't heard something like it before. It's hella cute." She took his hand and shook it.

Cute? His name was cute? What?

"Yours, too. Did you change your name?" He asked, hoping he didn't sound rude. Talon was never too great at talking to girls-excluding Astra, of course-and although he was usually the one to flirt, he was never able to start an actual, casual conversation. His eyes scanned over her body this time, and he noticed that compared to the other wizards, Mirror's robes were baggy and loose. She looked...sloppy, to say the least. Her hair was short and messy, and her bangs hung over her face, covering but not entirely hiding a majority of the left half of her face. Her eyes were a beautiful vermillion, like her hair (which was clearly dyed) and she was curvy but not overly so. Not like...Astra. She was cute, and even Thalomir thought so.

If you ever feel like running from your...commitment, run to this one, boy.

"The hell, man?" Talon hissed under his breath.

Mirror broke their handshake and Talon could've sworn he deflated. She never answered his question.

No, not now. He was an adult, and he was committed to Astra, no matter what. His lust would not control him. He would remain faithful because he loved Astra. He didn't need immediate gratification. Control his emotions, Shina had taught him. Control.

"I'm...uh, looking for my dorm-Ambr-the headmaster said I'd be sharing it with someone else but I'm not sure where it is…" He trailed off.

"Hm. I'm getting a new roommate, too." Mirror exclaimed. "Anyways, do you know what it looks like?"

Talon shrugged. "It's supposedly around the corner from the gates,"

"It might be that one...ask that guy," Mirror responded, pointing to a heavily armored young man standing guard near the dorms.

Talon gave her a grin. "Thanks. See you around, then." He didn't wait for a response, turning away quickly and striding over to the armored man. No point in furthering his relations with her. She would detract him from his course. His commitment. Make him unfaithful. "Hi, can you tell me where the dorm...uh...around the corner from the gates is?" He asked the wizard, unsure of both himself and the amount of faith he put in Ambrose.

The man jerked his thumb behind him, to a large dormitory that more resembled a spiraling tower-with long appendages that served as hallways-than an apartment. "Be more vigilant, kid. You could get lost and then hurt if people like me weren't around." He said.

Talon faked a smile, briskly walking towards the tower. "If people like you were around, I'd blow my brains out," he muttered cheekily.

Pushing open the maple wood door of the "dorm" with more force than necessary, Talon glanced upwards, staring at the staircase that spiraled almost continuously upwards in slight awe. "Aw, hell," he exclaimed. "I don't know where my room is, and I have no clue who my roommate is…" He glanced around. "Not like I can ask…" Talon trailed off.

Talon sighed in exasperation. Unfortunately, since things were looking fairly grim-okay, well not grim, but he was becoming frustrated at his current situation-he'd have to backtrack and ask the headmaster for his room number and a pair of keys. And while he was at it, he might ask where he could get a fresh pair of clothes since he was clad in the dirty pants that gave him some mobility, but still not enough, and a raggedy short sleeve shirt that was too small for him-the same clothes he had worn all those years before. He was surprised they even still fit, but then again, four inches wasn't much to be proud of.


"Whoa," Talon exclaimed, wiping his brow. It had been about noon when he'd arrived in the dormitory, but now, after he hauled ass and managed to buy his own furniture and clothes with the astonishingly large amount of gold Ambrose had given him, it was already late into the evening, and his roommate hadn't shown their face.

The unofficial Necromancer exhaled and spread himself on the large, three person bed he was barely able to afford with the last bit of gold he'd been given. It was made for three people, sure, but Talon slept in a number of ways that weren't exactly convenient or conventional, so he'd bought a large bed to avoid cramps and remain comfortable through the night. Or even the day.

Fidgeting with his fingers and cracking his knuckles, Talon allowed his mind to wander. Ambrose had said he would be a leader. A leader...leading was never something he thought of, nor something he was sure he could do. Sure, he acted confident, but didn't everybody?

There is no shame in being afraid.

"I know, but…" Talon began slowly. "All my life, someone has been controlling me. I'm used to it-I'm used to the supporting role. I'm the soldier that obeys the orders of his king, y'know?"

I was like you once. My masters...my creators controlled me. I was a tool, meant to do the work when they did not feel the urge to. So I turned on them. I became my own king, and I began my own legacy.

"It wasn't easy, was it?"

What do you think?

The front door of dorm room fifty-seven opened and Talon tilted his head to glance at the newcomer who happened to be a girl, maybe a few years his junior, with an attractive face, slender but developed (enough) figure, and short, shoulder length hair. She looked familiar.

Talon shrugged his shoulders and rolled over, closing his eyes. He didn't need to introduce himself right now-it could wait. The feeling of being in a bed that wasn't the damp, rocky ground of his prison cell.

Sleep was really what he needed now.

Sleep clawed at him like a wild beast, cutting deep into his flesh, barely allowing him free movement within its grasp. It wanted him. It needed him. It called to him. But...despite Talon's immense desire for sleep, he simply was unable to stay asleep.

Fear kept him awake. What did he have to be afraid of? The only thing that stood out to him the most was the fact that he was going to be a leader. He couldn't lead. Talon couldn't bear the burden of having people rely on him. Even when he was fleeing with Hunter, he consulted Thalomir, albeit unwillingly. He whispered to the heavens for advice and broke down when he felt like he couldn't take it anymore.

Even though he had trained under a female draconian-who resembled a black clad Earth hero obsessed with justice-to develop mental fortitude to keep himself sane what with Thalomir inside his head and all, fear stopped him.

Aw, hell, he needed to get out. Throwing the sheets off of him, the nineteen year old climbed out of bed, fumbling around for anything he might recognize as his eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness. Finding the doorknob first, Talon tugged open the door, and the cool night breeze washed over him, even in the hallway, probably blowing in from an open window. The cold was never really his thing, and he was tempted to close the door immediately.

Mentally overriding his instinct-and realizing that he hadn't taken anything off to sleep yet-Talon strode out into the dark dorm hallway, closing his door as quietly as he could behind him. He glanced left and right, unable to see and unsure of what to do next.

Senses, Shina had told him as he struggled to lift himself up. It was only one hundred push-ups, but granted, Talon had been fourteen and never exercised before. Uses your senses, boy. Keep yourself alert at all times. If you can't see, use your ears. If you can't hear, use your eyes.

Inhaling deeply, Talon closed his eyes and focused on the world surrounding him. Straining his ears, he forced himself to push as far as his physical limits would allow. A creak nearly startled him. But from where? Another creak, and the turning of the doorknob.

Behind?

Talon whirled around, pressing himself against the wall adjacent from his the door to his room, which squeaked open.

What..? His room?

Talon narrowed his eyes in an attempt to see the person across from him as they exited the room, but he was unable to make out any sort of defining features.

But he could've sworn he saw yellow eyes and a snout.

Something is wrong. Stay alert.

Should he attack?

Shina had never taught Talon how to conceal himself since she had never had to conceal herself, but granted, Talon had no need to, for the stranger saw him first and froze.

So much for not attacking. This person was a stranger in Talon's eyes, and had broken into Talon's dorm room. Maybe even killed his roommate.

Talon had learned to overcome shock's initial paralysis. He swiftly closed the gap between himself and his new opponent, aiming a kick at their legs. The figure managed to jump, but upon landing was unbalanced enough for Talon to press on.

He threw his fists as close as he could to the enemy's face, realizing that his eyes had finally adjusted to the darkness, and he could see, albeit very little.

Be careful, child.

Thalomir's voice rang out as Talon narrowly dodged a blow from his opponent. "I know what I'm doing," he hissed back, as quietly as possible. Flicking his left hand upwards towards his enemy, Talon raised his right hand to throw a punch at the stranger, a pair of skeletal hands erupting from the floor to grasp the ankles of the unsuspecting foe. The soft, deathly gasp of the souls below echoed through the hall, the sound gentle yet haunting.

"Gotcha," Talon hissed as his fist drew nearer to what he could almost make out as the stranger's face. Snout, rather.

Without warning, the corridor was suddenly illuminated by a flash of purple electricity and Talon heard the screams of the dead cut short as the skeletal hands were vaporized and became naught but a pile of ash. His fist sailed over his opponent's head as the stranger bent backwards to dodge, supporting themselves with their hands in a position reminiscent of a bridge.

Time slowed to a crawl.

Talon glanced downwards, as the purple electricity began to crackle for the last time, re-illuminating the dark corridor, and temporarily rendering his sight useless. A mask-a wolf mask. And a lightning user-A Diviner? What was a such a person doing in the dorms?

Long blonde hair flowed from behind the wolf mask. It looked silky...a girl?

Talon!

Talon had no time to wonder any further, as time sped up once more and the wolf threw her foot into Talon's unprotected groin. Fortunately, the nineteen year old did not double over, simply gritting his teeth and attempting to fight the overbearing pain. It hurt so much, though, and he did have to squeeze his legs together to avoid the pain.

Unfortunately, Talon was struck again as the girl shoved her boot into Talon's face, pushing him backwards and causing him to crash to the ground. Before his head hit the wooden floor, however, the girl slid her foot where he would've landed, and her toe hit the back of Talon's head.

He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out.

He was still alive. And as long as he was alone, he could fight back.

Shield, boy, shield!

As such, the girl struck him again, her fist hitting against his stomach with a soft thump. Talon coughed first, and made an attempt to throw her away from him in order to regain his balance and composure, but instead screamed in agony as lightning burst forth from the girl's palm and coursed through Talon, from his abdomen throughout his body.

Of course, the lightning blast was short. Like lightning bolts in most storms, the bolt only existed for three milliseconds, but that was enough to stop Talon's heart. The boy lay on the ground, a hole burned into the stomach of his new shirt, his dark skin littered with wounds, some even lightning shaped. The masked girl stood over him for a short time before sprinting down the hallway and darting down the stairs out of the dorm.

If the screams were not enough to rouse all of the wizards on Talon's floor, then the smell of burning flesh definitely was. It was about two or three minutes from the time Talon's heart stopped and his attacker fled for a wizard to carry him to the nearest professional Theurgist.

It was about seven or eight minutes from the time Talon's heart stopped that the Theurgist began to treat him. And by Bartleby, his heart began to pump again. Granted, the young Necromancer would be unconscious for about three days, but he would survive.

Talon may have paid little attention to his ancestor's actions and comments, but he could've sworn he heard Thalomir breathe a sigh of relief when he awoke after the third day.


James exhaled, pushing his upper torso above the water. He blinked repeatedly, an attempt to keep the water dripping from his forehead away from his eyes. The twenty-two year old's pale skin glistened in the bathroom light, and his white hair was matted down, stuck to his cheeks, giving him an almost ghastly appearance.

He climbed out of the bathtub, his sharp, grey-blue eyes searching the bathroom tile for a place to step. He shrugged to himself and his feet pressed against the cold tile, cold air washing over him. He barely shivered. Cold was nothing to him, but granted, he was a Thaumaturge. Still bare, James strode over to the mirror, gazing at his reflection flatly. He reached for his toothbrush, unscrewing the lid of the toothpaste as he did so. After running over his teeth with the toothbrush rigorously, James spat out the accumulated paste and rinsed his mouth.

Wrapping a towel around his waist, James opened the bathroom door and strode over to his closet. Thankfully, he didn't have a roommate. It was alright, though, because in the end, he didn't really need one. It was something he'd pondered over for a short time since his dorm did contain a second bed. It wasn't like he was two people. And as far as he knew, no one else had been assigned to his room.

Today...the Thaumaturge glanced at the calendar that was clumsily nailed to the wall spanning from his closet to the front door. The day was circled on the calendar, a note in black marker reading "Ambrose Team Training". James shrugged to himself. At least he wasn't leading a team. Leading was never his speciality. He just hoped that whoever Ambrose had chosen to lead the team (and James had heard very much about his teammates) was up to the challenge.

As James slid on his clothes, he thought about the team Ambrose had assigned. A Thaumaturge (himself), a Grandmaster Necromancer as the leader, a Legendary Conjurer who was considered higher than Cyrus Drake himself, a Diviner who was a natural born leader (yet wasn't the team's leader), a draconian whom James learned was unable to use magic, a Magus Theurgist who was described as fairly timid but having limitless potential, a Magus Pyromancer who was described by Ambrose as having a mean streak and a knack for patronization, as well as an eccentric Diviner who was rumored to have two other wizards in tow.

How hectic. To him, the team lineup just seemed...wrong. With that many clashing personalities, there would be problems. People fighting with one another for the title of leader, for the position of leader-for authority and power of nothing else. James didn't know these people personally, but it could be assumed that at least one would flake and break under the mental strain of war.

Whatever. It wasn't his position to judge anyways. For the time being, he would do as instructed, and make sure that he was discreet when it came to uncovering information.

James looked at the calendar once more before turning away, scooping a pair of keys off of his dresser and exiting his dorm.

He began the short trek to Ambrose's office, checking his pockets and making sure he had everything he needed. The undisputable feeling that he was missing something-a feeling that stuck with him as long as he could remember-tugged at him again, but he ignored it. He was just doubting himself, and nothing too great came from that.

It wasn't all the time that James forgot, anyways, and when he did, it was never anything major.

When James did arrive at the office, he took note of the five wizards standing at attention in the room.

Three of them were whispering to one another, which indicated close relations. James had met William Lightningwind before, and as such was able to pick him out as one of the three. It wasn't difficult, especially taking into account William's multicolored hair. Another, slightly older-looking man was next to him, his lips pressed together in a tight line. His hair was a dark brown, and his eyes were an attention-drawing opal color. He looked vexed, almost as if he was bothered by William's obnoxious behavior, yet did nothing to stop it. The third and final wizard was around 5'3" and had white hair that hung low over his face, covering his forehead and slipping into his eyes. He was lanky and had tan skin, his face more gaunt than any James had seen before. He was not ugly by any means, but rather ghastly and seemingly hollow.

The other two wizards looked uninterested. They were both female, and both stared at some invisible object with random, unfounded interest.

Where was the draconian? Not there yet, presumably.

One of the women-the one on James' left, closest to the door-gave him a sidelong glance as he entered. Her hair was red, a beautiful scarlet that gently slipped into a dark burgundy and then a soft brown where the hair ended and curled. She brushed her fingertips along the back of a small dragon that appeared almost as cold as she did.

James turned his attention to the last wizard in the room-the second woman. She looked younger than any of the other wizards in the room, himself included, and her hair-like William's-was dyed. It was jet black in color, but the light brown it had been was still visible, if just barely. Her eyes were a bright scarlet color, prearranged into a glare, and her teeth pressed down gently on the edge of her lips, giving her a rebellious air.

But what was she glaring at? Retreating from the door into the office, James caught Ambrose's eye, and the old man smiled. James gave a slight smile in return, and stared intently at the newcomers.

A boy-at least, James thought he saw a boy-walked into the room, his head down and his faint mumbles about oversleeping were audible in the now silent room. The newcomer was clad in robes that were a bright green with black trim-the Theurgist of the group. It was definitely eye-catching, but the most interesting thing about him was how he looked. His hair was shaggy and curled up at the ends, but his face (when he looked up at Ambrose, of course) was so delicate and feminine that James had trouble believing the Theurgist was a boy.

The second of the four wizards who walked in was a calm looking boy, as opposed to the jittery or unusually not nervous individuals who currently occupied the office. His hair was a dark burgundy-it was also dyed-like his eyes (those weren't dyed), which were a beautiful and captivating shade of vermillion. James could've sworn that he saw lightning spark around the boy's figure as he entered the office, and narrowed his eyes, intrigued. The sound of a lightning bolt was audible as the boy climbed up the steps.

Then the draconian entered, in all of his green-scaled glory. He wore armor of a soft blue hue, the designs on the armor outlined in platinum. James met eyes with the draconian who simply snorted and turned his head away.

The door hung open for a short time, and James would've tilted his head to glance out of the door in order to affirm his belief that no one else was coming if it was not for the klutz who tripped on the steps, falling axe first onto the office floor. The axe the Necromancer (as James could tell by his black armor) was holding broke the wood of the office floor where it landed, and a sharp crack could be heard as his face landed against the steps.

"Fuuuuuuck!" Was the cry of anguish that the Necromancer yelled out as he threw himself backwards, clutching at his nose. He blinked, his eyes searching the room and noticing all the quizzical or disapproving looks he received, chuckles nervously. "Uh...Hi," he mumbled in response.

"Talon," Ambrose began.

James noticed the ombré haired girl touch her head and squeeze her eyes shut tightly. Her lips were pressed into a thin line, however.

So this was Talon. The Necromancer. The leader? No, there was another Necromancer in the room. The timid, shy man with white hair. But this man, even though he clutched at his nose, even though a trail of blood was visible through the gaps between his fingers, and even though he looked...well, not well taken care of, something about him captivated James-drew him in, to the point where he was unable to escape the sand of hidden potential that swallowed him unaware.

Talon stood again, removing his hands from his nose-which James noticed had mended roughly within that minute and a half-and wiped the trail of blood from his face. "Sorry I'm late, kids," he exclaimed, running his eyes along every person in the room. His eyes lingered on the young man with burgundy hair and eyes and the woman James assumed was the Conjurer-the one with an ombré red hairstyle. Nevertheless, the Necromancer retained his composure. "So, how does this work?"

The same girl who had touched her temple earlier did so once again, and turned away this time, slightly doubling over in pain. James was puzzled, but thought nothing of it. Wasn't really his problem.

The question was directed towards Ambrose. James turned to look at the headmaster, who responded simply with, "You're the leader, you make the decisions. I'm simply...the figurehead."

The Necromancer gave the old man a look of absolute confusion before sighing, shaking his head, and simply saying, "Meet me in Briskbreeze," and teleporting from the room.

Briskbreeze? How did Talon leave so fast? Did he mark Briskbreeze or something? Why Briskbreeze? Wasn't that a prison? How were they supposed to get there? What were they going to do, anyways? It wasn't as if Talon had the teaching skills necessary to manage a team. Or at least, from what James could tell. Talon's mannerisms spoke relative volumes about his personality. The way he casually addressed both the group and Ambrose, the way he stood, and things of the like.

Despite all that, James wasn't one to question the appointed team leader, and strode out of the open office door towards Colossus Boulevard.

What a day.


MW: So, now that it's over and done, I will do some review replies.

Guest: Lucas is dead, man. Sorry to tell you. Don't worry, milk fixes everything. Just kidding. But on a serious note, Lucas IS dead, and there are only bits and pieces about him yet he has an incredible impact on both Talon and Hunter. I like leaving things to the imagination which is why I neither flesh out Lucas nor have characters really talk about him.

James Firecrafter: Yeah, Eron is definitely one of my favorites to write about. He's very...troubled. Hah! No, Cyrus denied Astra the opportunity to spar because he didn't feel it was necessary. Do what you must, right? In all honesty, parts of the story are left vague because I like the theories and ideas you guys create.

Ammaarah01: Whoops, my bad on that Talon Wood mess up. No one cares about Talon Wood, man, he's just a filler character meant to cause Astra pain as she regains her memories. His only relation with the character "Talon" is that they share the same name, though "Talon" is a nickname.

Q: Where's Shina?

A: She's out for now. Most likely taking care of Valdus or honing her skills. If I do a Valdus side story, she'll be of more importance.

Q: Why doesn't Astra react upon seeing Talon?

A: Sometimes she reacts immediately, sometimes she doesn't. Talon was pretty abrupt with his entrance and exit, and you'll notice that Astra really reacts when she hears his name repeatedly, is talking to him directly or if Talon says something that he said when they were younger. She does clutch her head in pain, however.

Q: Whose perspective will we see next?

A: Hunter's and Astra's.

Q: What happened to Valkyrie?

A: You'll see, around chapter twelve.