The great main hall of the Prague coven was bustling with activity, as always: its denizens walking in and out, conversing, one or two couples making out in a corner. The heavy, pretty, very traditional chandelier was casting its bright light down upon the crowd, throwing twitching shadows upon the heavy Persian rug and the dark red upholstery of the various couches, sofas, and love seats spread around the room.<br/><br/>Galen wasn't looking at all that. He was standing by the window, looking outside at the snowy grounds of the castle, his eyes piercing the dark. He was alone; nobody had come to converse with him or to share a joke or even to greet. Galen was a loner in the middle of a friendly crowd - and if anyone asked, he fucking liked it. He preferred solitude, and the few friends he had grown to rely upon weren't here. Some were dead; others back in their covens in China and Canada. The remaining few were out on an assignment somewhere in Eastern Europe. But he didn't go; his Sire Demetrina had asked him to stay, and so he stayed, replaced by some young Fabiani recruit. Elder request, his mother had told him four days ago. Aiden Connor had told her to tell him to stay put. And Galen had shrugged and nodded, and had accepted Demetrina's compassionate hug indifferently. He had a deep bond with his Sire - his mother he called her. But emotions were something that rarely reached his face or his gestures.<br/><br/>Soft footsteps. High heels muffled by the soft rug. The scent of "Angel" by Thierry Mugler mixed with bitter body scent and the hint of shampoo. The discreet rustle of a short satin dress - a black Dolce&Gabanna, sleeveless, rear zipper. Wavy blond hair tickling bare shoulders. Soft lips stretched into a light smile. Impeccable make-up, icy blue eyes beneath delicate eye lashes. A black onyx necklace and matching earrings. No underwear. Svetla, one of the pets of the coven, and Galen's favorite.<br/><br/>The petite blond came close to him and put her arm around his, rubbing her face into the sleeve of his gray Armani suit. He always wore Armani - black or gray, dark shirts, no tie. He didn't like ties, he found them too restricting.<br/><br/>"Galen, honey, you haven't said anything all night" Svetla said through the sleeve. "You've been standing here for fifteen minutes. Is something the matter?"<br/><br/>"Later." The lone word came out of his lips flatly. She stepped around and looked at him, concerned. He wasn't so cold to her usually. She felt her heart heavy. "Did I do something wrong, Galen?" she asked quietly, her eyes glancing desperately at the expression on his face, looking for a clue. He tilted his head and looked into her eyes. His hand moved up, touching the soft cheek, brushing aside a naughty lock of blond hair. "Later." he repeated and Svetla walked away, worried. He sighed and turned his gaze back at the cold dead scene outside.<br/><br/>It was not in the way of the Connors to hold one of theirs back from duty. Being the second youngest bloodline in the Community, and the third poorest when it came to the collective wealth of all members, the Connors were looking desperately for as much influence and profit as they could get. Something was wrong, he thought. Something important was happening.<br/><br/>Soft footsteps, high heels muffled by the soft rug. The scent of "Angel"... He spun on his heels. "Svetla, I told you later. You're forgetting your place." he grumbled at her. She remained silent, blushing with sadness, but not daring to interrupt. When he finished his sentence, she looked at him, trying to push back a tear. "Your Sire is looking for you. She asked me to take you to her." she said, her lips shaking. Galen rubbed his forehead. He was having trouble at first accepting a human's presence. But he adjusted. He learned to accept the pets in the Community as his future companions rather than a snack. So he put his arm on her shoulder, making sure he was gentle this time. "Don't worry. You're not the reason why I'm upset. You can take me to Demetrina."<br/><br/>Apologizing to a human was still something he would not do. But a pet would not expect an apology, anyway. Svetla's eyes matched her name which meant "Light" - they lightened up and she leaned into his touch. "Thank you, Galen!" Her lips touched his hand before she turned around. He followed her out of the great hall, nodding at two Connors and one of his former Sentinel comrades - a devilish redheaded Morrigan named Leyla.<br/><br/>The pet took him to one of the countless rooms in the northern wing of the castle. His mother Demetrina was waiting for him, brushing her very long black hair in front of a large mirror. It wasn't her room. Galen assumed she had slept with someone. Who it was, he didn't know, and frankly, he didn't care much. She was over 100 years old and Galen knew from the bottom of his heart that she knew what she was doing.<br/><br/>His Sire turned around and hugged him as he entered the room. "Galen Arthur, finally some good news!" she chuckled on his shoulder. Her satisfaction was obvious. Galen smirked. "I don't know who the man is, mother, but judging by your attitude, he must fuck like a god." She giggled. "Silly man! You've been selected by the Senate for a special task."<br/><br/>He pulled away from the hug. "Hm." he grunted. "So that's what all the ruckus was about. Alright - who do I have to kill?" He was serious but she pinched his arm and giggled again. "Nobody. The Senate has voted on establishing a fourth coven. A small group will be sent to meet up in Chicago, in America, and prepare the grounds. You're one of the selected. You'll be the founder of a new coven, Galen Arthur Connor!"<br/><br/>He remained silent for a moment, digesting the surprising information. "Who else is going?" he finally asked. Demetrina shrugged. "I don't know. Only one name came out, but it was more gossip than information. Ana-Lucia." Galen frowned. "That DelaCourt brat? Wonderful." His mother took a step back towards the mirror and resumed brushing. Galen's eyes slid across the room, noticing the neatly pulled curtains and the wrinkled blue bed sheets. The room reeked of sex. "Now, now, son, Ana-Lucia is a good lass, upstanding and noble. You know that all too well. So be good!" she scolded him.<br/><br/>Galen shrugged and touched his Sire's shoulder. "When do I have to leave?" She looked at him into the mirror. He got the message. Now. "Very well, I should go get ready then. I'll find you when it's time to say goodbye." He turned around, mixed emotions tingling his chest. The predominant one was the same as his mother, though - excitement. He was chosen to establish a new coven - something that hasn't happened for twelve centuries and had no living witnesses in the world. And he was one of the very few selected. This was going to boost up his position in the Community, as well as the influence of the Connors.<br/><br/>But then he looked up. And it became apparent that not everyone was happy about him leaving Prague. Svetla was crying.