With the knowledge that she was in the world of her own subconscious, Netta managed to put clothes on herself, but only after she instinctively crouched down atop Ashwood. The position had hidden her breasts from her father, but the position left her all too open from where he was rooted to the ground, staring at her back and Ash's feet.

By the time that she blinked herself so that she was standing opposite her father, with Ash in between them, Netta could not find it in herself to make eye contact with either.

Ash, who exhibited his trademark lack of care, continued to recline on the ground in the full nude. He smiled up at the other Monster. "Would ask if you've ever heard of knocking, but I don't think I would have heard, anyway."

"ASH!" Netta yelled, her face so hot from the embarrassment that she thought that she would die.

Ash glanced at her and yelled back, "What?" Netta felt him probing her mind and felt the moment that he paused in realization. He raised a hand up to his head. "Oh. Ohh." He coughed, then craned his head back to look at Thornleaf.

Netta wondered, briefly, if ever in the history of relationships between Witchkind and Monsters, if this scenario could ever again play out. It served as cold comfort, watching as her father's busy eyes flew to first her, then Ash, her, then back to Ash. It was the moment in which Netta realized that Ash was still sporting half of his overly eager size.

Her thinking that it could not get any worse from that moment proved to be optimistic.

Her father fell to his knees, practically collapsing on the floor. "My lord -" he said, shaking visibly. "you live, in spite of my bumbling -!"

Ash turned to regard Netta with a surprised arch of his eyebrows before he turned his amused attention back on her father. "Thornleaf? That cannot be you- ah! But it is!" He snapped his fingers, a wide smile of his face. "I heard you've been busy - how're things?"

Hesitating, Thornleaf looked up at Ash, his gaze darting from the other two in the room. "M-my lord, I have been hard at work - hard, ensuring that this woman would be delivered to you, a means of regaining your lost power."

Ash's smile faded. "Oh, is that so?" He asked, faintly.

As Netta's thoughts began to spin in horror, she felt Ash's presence in her mind. He was a small comfort.

He glanced back at her, and Netta felt Ash's eyes as they betrayed his unease in a brief flicker. Still, when he spoke, he sounded as unmoved and amused as ever. "I heard that you managed to sire a halfling, which I must admit to be a fan of. Some would even say I am apt to worship."

Netta felt a rush of love for Ash for a moment, only to feel her creeping horror return.

Thornleaf looked up, glee obvious on his face. "I meant her as a vessel for yourself, in spite of what the witches thought that you would do." Netta felt her neck spasm as she swallowed compulsively, recalling all of the earlier talking about her being devoured. "But you've taken an obvious liking to my daughter, then I am glad to give you this pleasure. I mean, I do hope that you've found her a complacent mate, at the least. The prophecy did tell of a creature that would be most empathetic to your needs. I did what I could do to make her suitable."

He seemed to realize after a moment that Ashwood was giving him a thunderous expression. Blanching, Thornleaf struggled to his feet and backed up, defensive. "M-my lord, I didn't mean any offense -"

Netta felt herself take flight, all kind thoughts running away from her as she screamed. She leaped, hands turned into claws as she reached for her father's face. When she felt Ash's hands on her shoulders, she realized that she had narrowly missed clawing her father's face when she saw that she was standing over Thornleaf. The Monster lay on the floor, staring up at her in astonishment.

Netta gasped for air as she looked down, shocked at the depths of her emotions. "Oh, what was I doing..." she murmured, looking down at her shaking hands. They were contorted into tight claws. She stopped staring at them as she felt the continued pressure of Ash's hand on her shoulder. She turned to look at him, uncertain, frightened of the rage that had boiled in her.

"Hey," Ash said, a forced smirk on his lips. "from experience: you let underlings get their hands burnt in the fire." The offer, slick as blood on a blade, was there, underneath the seemingly light-hearted remark. I can kill him where he stands, do it so easily that you would think I was picking a daisy.

Netta shuddered and clutched her hands, trembling as she fought to suppress overwhelming emotions. Ash would gladly kill the man who had been his right hand so long ago, had been the reason that he had returned at all. And he would do it, for her.

She shook with emotion, then felt as tears began in her eyes. Disgust. Anger that burnt her. Sorrow that colored the world around her.

Ash was there behind her, an anchor that she found her hand drawn to. "No." she whispered it and closed her eyes. She repeated her order. "No."

"No?" Ash sighed. "Very well. Thornleaf?"

"Y-yes, Master?"

"New world order - Neith here is my Master - she's exceedingly good at it, and her job seems to be killing Witches, so added bonus for me. Among other things, which I have good taste to not mention." He paused, turning to look at Netta. "I would keep the disparaging remarks to a baseline, unless you enjoy the thought of spending an eternity locked where no one's going to set you free. From experience - it's not as fun as it sounds."

Thornleaf stared up first at Ash, then turned his gaze onto his daughter, his wide eyes luminous. At first he did not answer, then Netta felt as the man that she loathed to call father crept towards her and began to kiss her feet.

The urge to kick him away rose, but she stopped herself. It made her feel ill, wrong. Like she was Hera.

As she looked down at her father's head, she felt tears begin to pour out of her. They silently dropped onto the head of the man that she had once loved as dearly as she did the sight of flowers in spring time.

Ash spoke, thankfully breaking the focus the Monster kneeling at Netta's feet had. "What are we going to do about our captors?"

Still kneeling, Thornleaf said, "You'll just have to destroy whatever humanity your mate - Master has inside of her. The enchantment won't work on her the way it was intended, if all of the mortality hasn't been blown out of her."

Netta asked, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Her father turned, gazed at her with those wide, wondering eyes. "You're going to have to receive the boon of our King so that you can assume your role. You can't be mortal any longer."

Frustrated, Netta was about to order her father to stop speaking in allusions and riddles as his - their - kind was so want to do. She was stopped by the sensation of Ash's hand leaving her shoulder, then pulling out of her mind.

Ash paced away, his voice revealing bad humor as his chuckle rang hollow in his chest. "No."

Thornleaf crawled a foot towards his King, his hand raised beseechingly. "The only way you can either free or reap the power of my daughter is through the same action."

Ash stopped walking, his hands falling down to his side, clenching tight. "I won't - I will never kill my wife."

Netta's heart seemed to stop in her chest. Raising a hand to her neck, Netta felt her feet moving her backward. The sound of her retreat brought the attention of her father and husband, who gazed at her. Overbright Monsters' eyes stuck to her, pinioned.

Netta's mouth had fallen open, and she said, "Why?"

Ash shut his eyes tight and Thornleaf's face never changed from his look of astonishment. He turned back to Ash, ignoring his daughter. "I am sorry, my liege, but the only way that she will live anyway is if she is granted the ability to shed her mortal flesh. A boon that only you could ever give."

Ash yelled, his voice a harsh, rasping bark. "I will not kill the one I love!"

Thornleaf crawled until he was at Ashwood's feet, reaching up to wrap his small hands at the base of his King's knees. With an infuriatingly beseeching voice, he begged, "You've done it before. You granted the first Witch with the very same boon, gave her immortality before she took her own life-"

Ash shoved the smaller Monster away from him, turned away. He reached up to his head, grasped onto a thick mass of horn thoughtlessly, as though he meant to rip it off in frustration.

He said, pointing to Netta, "She is not my Ex. When I did that - I made a mistake, should have known that a Human could not withstand what actual immortality - immaterial consciousness - is like. It's taken me almost my whole lifetime, but I know that I'm to blame for her mutilating me." His voice dropped, painful sorrow evident in his voice. "It's why she chose to fall, die rather than look in my face any longer. I took away her humanity. I don't even know if I deserved my rage at her." Slowly, Ash turned around, gazed at Netta. She was astonished by the pained sorrow she saw in his stolen green eyes. He said, "She did not go mad with power or had predetermined that she was going to take power over me. The transformation was a torture to her, she hated me for it. What I did to her - it was inexcusable, cruel." He closed his eyes.

Thornleaf spoke, starting to crawl once more after Ash. "But the girl - she's not vulnerable, weak like a Human. She was made to withstand such a transfiguration-"

Ash interrupted him, said, "You can't promise me either that she'll even survive it. I could kill her, just by ripping the mortality out of her."

Thornleaf seemed to have trouble speaking, struggling with his words. "You still have rejuvenating powers - the ones you've always had, even before your own corruption. Your horns - they're the mark of the power that you still have. She doesn't - Neith can be revived through their power, reborn totally as a Magic."

Netta spoke then, saying, "It's only ever been done once before. And he has to try to kill me."

Ashwood raised a hand out to her, the beseeching look on his face. His eyes looked haunted, as though he could not feel happiness. He said, "I don't want to - forgive me, but even if you asked me, I couldn't-"

Netta turned around and ran. Through the sound of her own heavy, labored breathing, she could hear the sound of her husband and her father, yelling for her to turn around -

And then the world disintegrated around her.

Jarred out of her mind by the feel of being lifted out of the box that she had been trapped in, Netta opened her eyes to find a hand reaching out to her.

Instinctively, she reached up for it, not thinking of who the hand belonged to. She was being hauled out of the coffin. Standing, Netta looked, saw Erwinnia with a grim look on her face - or, at least, grimmer than her usual expression.

"What's going on?" Netta asked, shaking off the daze of being awoken from a deep, deep slumber. Had discovering who her father was - was it just a dream? And what Ash had said...

Winnie shrugged, looking as though she was barely holding back from crying. She looked wretched, her eyes seeming to glow with desperate emotion, set in darkened, sunken sockets. "They've got Ophelia and told me to dig you up. Hera said that there's a change of plans, and that they wanted to have a family get together."

Netta coughed and filled her lungs with sweet air. She felt lucky. She recalled a time in her childhood, being left underground past the time that a Human would suffocate and she had simply sunk into a state of suspended animation. Instinctively, she reached out mentally and found her husband reaching out for her. He was weak, she could not hear what he said to her.

Surely no one would think that she had been able to establish a re-connection with him. And no matter what, she could not risk him revealing himself, not just for his own sake, but for what his power could do in the wrong - evil - hands.

She followed Winnie up the stairs where she discovered Sia waiting at the top. The sight of her older sister made Netta jump. She felt humiliated by the knowing, shining glint that she recognized in Sia's gaze.

Unlike Winnie, in the halo of light given to her by the hallway light behind her, Sia looked warm, beautiful. At first, Netta believed that her older sister was beckoning to her, until Netta saw that the Witch was holding something to her.

As Netta ascended the stairs, letting a frightened Winnie walk behind her, she saw that what Sia was holding was indeed for her benefit. Smirking, Sia waited until Netta was only a step away from her before she handed handed her fresh clothes to wear. "Wear this, rat. Do as the traitor here tells you to." She turned away, leaving the two still standing on the stairs.

The anger rose up in Netta after the shock had gone away. She took hold of the basement door, slammed it shut, leaving the two Witches standing in the darkness.

Finally, Winnie spoke in a hush. "...Netta?"

Netta, who had been busy undressing in the near dark, pulled on the flashy red dress joylessly, turned to her adopted Sister. "What?" She felt weary from her anger, her endless fear.

"I'm scared. I think that we might not be able to escape this - but if there's any justice in this world," she sobbed softly as she spoke, "any at all, then that poor girl upstairs won't be tortured for their entertainment like - like they used to do to you."

Netta sighed and bent down, pulling on high heels that fit her feet perfectly. She had dressed in the near darkness, throwing her old clothes down, into the darkness of the basement. "I won't let any harm come to any of us."

She meant it, too. No matter what would happen to her, she had no intention of her new family being harmed any further. They wouldn't get Ash, and she knew that, somehow, she would do whatever she needed to do to save the two innocent Witches. She shook with her rage, an anger that she let run through her blood freely, feeling the influence of the Magic in her. She welcomed its wildness, felt, for the first time as she knowingly embraced it, the welcoming sense of frenzied determination. The feeling that she had once, wrongly, attributed as some form of infection from her lover.

"I mean," Winnie said, her voice rising a measure in panic. "I think that if the opportunity should present itself - I - I think that you should do the right thing by the girl. She wasn't raised like us, she's too headstrong to emotionally survive their torture. If there's no other alternative, I think that you should consider sparing her - future anguish."

Netta stopped, hands poised as she readied to fix her dress better on her body. Without looking up at her Sister, Netta softly said, "What you're telling me to do is murder the girl."

Winnie's voice rose, emphasizing what she said. "To save her - from the torture of those madwomen. You've already killed your own family, and this is for kindness' sake. Can you spare her from your own fate?"

Netta closed her eyes. Why was this her fate, to be a murderer of her own family?