The Ruus woman walked into the room, hips swaying and with a form that Aphrodite herself sculpted. Tall and seductive, the woman standing in front of me was a succubus in human form and she knew it. I stood with my mouth half open as she gifted me with an impish grin as she bit her lower lip.

            “Umm…” was all the dribble I let out.

            “Bas, I probably should tell you something.” Athea said.

            I turned towards my friend. A guilty feeling came over me as now Athea, one of the most beautiful people I have ever seen, looked only normal by comparison. Another guilty feeling came over me as the echos of my dream came over me. No… I was moving on. I had to move on.

            “Huh?” I asked.

            “There… may have been another reason why… why we were treated so well.” She told me.

            “Oh?” The Ruus said. “Tsk Tsk, Athea. And you say that I have trust issues.”

            Her voice was musical, breathy and sensual. She stood ten feet away, yet it seemed to whisper in my ear. It was tinged with humor as her smile grew. She moved forward then and… wait…

            “Athea? You know her?” I asked, turning back towards my friend.

            To my utter surprise, and something I would never let her forget, I saw Athea bashful. Her face was the color of the most ripe tomato. She clapped her arms behind her back and she casually kicked the floor with one foot. She avoided eye contact with the strange woman, like a… like a troublesome child.

            “No… No way!” A grin broke my face.

            Athea glared up at me, then her eyes softened. She sighed out then sat on the ground. She just plopped down there, cross-legged and crossing her arms. I looked back at her, then back at the stranger, then back again. No one was speaking. NO ONE WAS SPEAKING! I needed someone to speak.
            “Please tell me you’re Morgan?” I asked the woman.

            She tore her gaze from Athea, to level her demonic helmet at me. It then dematerialized. The rest of her long crimson hair flowed down in an elegant wave. She looked at me with familiar eyes, a familiar face and a familiar glare, except for one thing. The edges of her eyes were aged with crow’s feet and light blemishes only time provide.

            “Bas, this is my mother… Morgan.”

            Silence. Utter and complete silence. Then I laughed. It was deep. I think I snorted a few times. But it felt good. Then I saw Athea, she was smiling. Not laughing, but smiling. See, she was loosening up.

            “Hello Bas. Such a strange name.”

            Morgan stepped right up to me. She then walked around me, assessing me like a chink of meat as she lightly traced a finger around my armored shoulder. She kept ticking her tongue repeatedly.

            “Such… beautiful eyes.” She cooed. “Soul damaged? Rare… exotic.”

            The tips of her fingers caressed my chest plate, then around my waist. My face grew red, and I stepped back.

            “Is she… always so intimate?” I asked Athea.

            “She slept with my first boyfriend.” She replied.

            My head whipped down at her. She stared back, long red hair hanging so similar to her mothers.

            “And my second… third… that was when I gave up on men.”

            “Oh!” I yelped, feeling a pinch on my butt.

            I turned back towards Athea's mother. This woman was a lion! So unlike her daughter, this woman was a damn hurricane. She was raw, untamed, and utterly terrifying.

            “Such a unique… specimen. I think I will keep him.” She said to me.

            “No, mother.” Athea stood up.

            “Oh?” She turned her assessing gaze on her daughter. “Is he yours?”

            Athea shook her head.

            “Mother… You still haven’t changed.”

            “Me?” She sounded astonished.

            “Yes, you.” Athea glared back.         

            “Athea… does umm… Mi…”

            “No!” she blurted out.

            “Mi… Would that be… Mika? That little minx you ran off with?”

            Athea let out a loud sigh, glaring at me. I shrugged, looking as innocent as I could.

            “I take it you are no longer tracking them?” Athea asked.

            I nodded, growing grim as she reminded me of our happenings.

            “Shit… Mother, you don’t use pacts still? Right?” Athea asked.

            It was her mother’s turn to look bashful.

            “Mother… You promised!” Athea admonished.

            “But… they bring in so much! After you left, I lost whatever conscious I had about using them.” She said.

            “It is not time to argue morals. Pillars, Minerk district nine, section one, are they yours?” Athea asked.

            During this conversation, I slowly stepped back, away from those two. I turned and noticed that the two guards were doing the same thing. We shared a knowing look that turned into a light grin and a shrug.

            “Perhaps.” Morgan replied.

            “I want our shit back.” Athea growled.

            She then pushed past her mother and out into the hallway. Morgan followed her daughter’s heel, tossing something in the air. Was that my Immortal Seed? I was confused. When they disappeared into the hallways, I stared wide eyed at the two others.

            “Who… who is in charge?” I asked, astonished.

            The man shrugged, as the portly woman replied.

            “It was always up in the air.” Her heavy voice croaked. “It’s just good to have her back.”

            I took a light step forward, seeing they would not stop me, I pushed past to follow. I stepped out into a long grey hallway. Random sways of golden ornaments and sconces were elegantly hung around. The hallway went another twenty feet before it split in two. I couldn’t see the two of them, but thanks to my increased senses from Imona, I could still hear them. Though I didn’t really need her, they were both yelling at each other, more like sisters than mother and daughter.

            I jogged to catch up, but kept my distance, hearing the conversation growing heated.

            “I cannot believe you didn’t invite me to the wedding!” Morgan shouted.  

            “I didn’t invite you because I didn’t want them to know!” Athea replied.

            Another turn in the hallway.

            “I wouldn’t have told anyone.”

            “You? You can’t help but make a spectacle of yourself.” Athea said. “Remember my graduation?”

            “That was one time.” Her mother replied, sheepishly.

            “Tazim?

            “Okay, two times.”

            “The Seventh Day Parade?” Athea said, I could hear her eyes roll.

            “Fine… Three times.”

            Athea stopped walking, glaring at her mother. After a moment, the pirate queen lifted her hands in innocence.

            “Fine… I probably wouldn’t have told them.”

            Athea’s eyes narrowed.

            “Maybe just that… father of hers. He’s quite the hunk of meat.” She sounded hungry.

            “MOTHER! That is my wife’s father!” Athea said.

            “That isn’t… that weird.” She replied.

            Athea turned and walked off.

            “You…” Athea didn’t finish what she was saying.

            Morgan jogged up to her daughter but remained silent. We turned one last time and came up to a large metal door. That was it. It was the size of the grey hallway and matched almost perfectly. In fact, I only knew it was a door when Athea placed her hand against it. When nothing happened, she turned a glare at Morgan.

            “You took me out?”

            She shrugged.

            “I didn’t know what you were going to do after you left.”

            Morgan placed her hand against the cold metal plate. It shimmered out of existence in an iridescent glowing light. Prison cells lied beyond. Uniform alcoves sat five long on either side, with another row above each side. Each shimmered with a light red field of force. Most were empty, save for two. One was an elderly man. He wore tattered robes and cackled like a maniac. The other was a woman, armored, angry, and slamming a heavy sword on the field with no visible effect.

            “Camilla!” I shouted.