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Beside her in the small inn apartment, Ravenna bristled with restrained annoyance. She sent Aya a look. "Oh please, like you don\'t know why the townies are banging at our door this early in the morning." Her sarcasm was clear. "Tell me you don\'t? I dare you."

In the room they had shared since the destruction of Emberfall, Aya Naamah was silent. She looked around for a while, darting her eyes at every quaint item but Ravenna\'s green pupils. Eventually, she met her gaze, and flushed. Her voice was flirty and held more than a bit of sugary sweetness when she said,

"Well, it isn\'t my fault the men want to fuck."

"Blunt much?" Ravenna challenged, but it was friendly.

Aya only shrugged.

BANG! BANG! BAAAANNG!

The knocking was furious now: the door would come down soon. Aya knew it. It wasn\'t the type of sturdy hardwood mansions were made of—she\'d know. Just behind the gray door, were dozens of fuming farmers wives and fishermen wives, and even the High lord of Gūndlheim\'s wife. In fact, it could be said that all the women in the little town were in the same place, gathered in front of the modest Inn.

Why?

—because Aya Naamah had shagged all of their husbands, or tried to. And so the rumors went.

But in her defense, it wasn\'t her fault; she was a succubus, and she had \'daily\' needs. She wasn\'t a whore; she didn\'t stand at corners and grab the nearest passing man for a quick fuck in the trees. No! She didn\'t even lurk in bars. She did her most to keep away from men—and women after they had run together from the ruins of Emberfall.

Ravenna and herself.

It pained her greatly that she had to leave her Lord Master bleeding and without aid, but at the time, she had no choice: she\'d been knocked out and Ravenna had pulled her out of the ash of the Manor before Mephistopheles had a chance to finish her off. It pained her even more when she awoke to find out that Cora was gone. . .dead.

And yet, here were these shitty villager women trying to ram her down for something she wasn\'t even guilty of. Had some of the men tried to get in on with her last week at the trails? YES. Had another group hinted at their offer to gangbang her when she went to the well three days ago? YES. Had the High lord himself propositioned her just last night in the Hollows tavern?

HECK YES!

But she had eased away from the advances—in all instances.

She had done this to herself, denying satisfying pleasure for the singular reason of breeding mixed feelings. Still the witch-hunt came.

It wasn\'t her fault the men\'s eyes roamed her voluptuous prettiness as she meandered through town. She did wear overflowing dresses and skirts, but there was no hiding those curves.

Men would always be men. So fuck the village women and their rangy bitchy jealously.

"Bitches," she cursed under a breath.

Aya and Ravenna were at the moment hurriedly packing into travel bags and satchels whatever they could; it was to escape the onslaught of angry females that was certain to pummel down the door. "Some might call YOU the bitch. They might argue you were leading the men on," said Ravenna.

Aya tossed her a pillow, pouting, "please, I have not eye for any man since leaving Lord Israfel. Dire as my needs might be. But I happily accept being a BITCH. You have to understand it can be a veiled compliment where I come from."

Ravenna shook her head with a laugh.

They two young women filled their bags with what they could carry. Leaving the rest in haste, they made their way through a side door to the adjoining room, out a dim hallway, and finally the inn\'s back door. The generous owner, a lively Hobbit held open the exit. Aya filled his hands with a fat purse in appreciation.

"Where to now—since your fat ass has cost us our only hiding place?" Ravenna joked as they hiked through the northern trail.

Aya cut eyes at her. The snow was light on the forest floor and they were lucky to escape the women with the pitchforks behind. Aya was as good as witch to them—and not the tolerated kind.

"Well, the Capitol is out of mind," Aya reasoned.

"It goes by Titans Landing now, didn\'t you hear?"

Aya stopped by a poster of the new King: the Usurper, nailed into a high Elmwood. "How does it feel?"

Ravenna stopped too. Her eyes stroked up to same poster, to a face she had known all her life but really hadn\'t known at all. "How does what feel?" she asked back.

"—to know your father is a god?"

Ravenna sighed. "Truthfully, it feels like shit. I\'d have preferred him to be the loser dad, than a serial killer dad. Him being a god doesn\'t matter." She chuckled then, "perhaps just a little bit. But it doesn\'t forgive years of lying to me, faking my mother\'s death—who is an Angel by the way, and faking his own disappearance. Parents of the Year, they are?!"

"Hmm," Aya nodded, thinking. "How about a locator spell?"

Ravenna cut back across to the other woman. "For what?"

"For finding Lord Master of course! You don\'t still think I\'m talking about your father."

"Well go on, we can spend all day hiking in the north forest. You have something of his?"

Aya nodded and produced a ring.

The Atlantean ruby royal ring.

Ravenna\'s jade eyes bulged. "How do you have that?"

"It survived the fire," said Aya simply. "Now, I just need to recite the spell. Join hands with me, please. My LUST Mana Core is depleted from all the celibacy. Your own aura would help. You are after all Half-Angel."

Ravenna scoffed, but put her hands in Aya\'s. The petite succubus slowly began the spell:

"Of realms of darkness, in bursts of a pyre, let him be revealed in starkness, he who was born of fire."

Their joined hands began to glow and the ruby diamond in Aya\'s ring finger burned brightly. It led her to pull away, and when she did, it pointed south—toward the Cold Sea. "I guess we know where we\'re headed now," said Aya glumly. She was not to happy about the [Location Spell] pointing toward blue endless waters. She hoped to the gods it wasn\'t the mermaids—for their sake.