The Contendah and reigning Queen of Mean Morgause takes this opportunity to interrupt her sister with some lame questions about getting laid or a husband or something, as though dealing with a Magic Eight Ball, even though she just rudely told her niece not to bother Migraine. This is exactly the kind of selfishness we will see from the Queen of Mean throughout, and don't you worry, it's punished in the end (although it takes about thirty years and some majorly lame make-up to get us to that point). Without answering any questions or in fact saying anything of use, Migraine "snaps out of it" (although we are left only the context of extraneous dialogue to understand this, given that she still is staring at a big pile of nothing, a whole lot like a junkie) to tell us that the Lady of the Lake is coming.
The next thing that happens is that the Lady of the Lake comes. Because this is the extent of Migraine's psychic power. This is not a story in which seconds matter, since in order to make it more "epic" or legitimate, each scene has been increased by at least ten minutes of useless repetitive dialogue, in which each thing that happens is first noted, then remarked upon, then discussed and finally explained, by no fewer than three characters. So it is no wonder that Migraine is not the power-player that she might be in other circumstances, but as it is, she says the Lady of the Lake is coming and then by Goddess here she friggin' comes.
We now meet the eldest (and frankly coolest) of Rogaine's aunts, Viviane (built on the Prue model, being high and solitary and most stern), and are treated to a cute conspiratorial grin between her and Rogaine, who stands on just one of many Convenient Battlements we'll be seeing. Besides being Vivarin, this last sister is also the Lady of the Lake, which is kind of like being Oprah only with superpowers, and played by Anjelica Huston. Vivarin's part in the story, like everyone else's, is to do exactly as she pleases and then talk about how she was forced into it, like some kind of twelve-stepper who's just started going to meetings. In this case, Vivarin's Higher Power is the oft-cited Avalon, which is almost like a political state except that A) it's actually invisible and B) there are like four people there. In the larger sense, Vivarin represents the Goddess religion, which is going to take a major beating in the next four hours, since the whole point of all this is to explain where goddess-worship as religion of choice has gone. Turns out it's because We (and by We I mean here specifically we football-playing, Christmas-cheering, date-raping, queer-bashing Christian Americans, I think) Beat Their Asses Into A West Texas Kind Of Oblivion.
So Vivarin walks into the dungeon where the Queen of Mean, Migraine, and Rogaine choose to spend their days, accompanied by Merlin (who is four thousand of doddering Parkinson's years old and whose whole deal is interrupting scenes to yell -- sometimes without provocation -- things like "Viviane has foreseen it!" in order to quell anybody who has the audacity to be less Viviane's bitch than he, agreeing throughout with everything Vivarin says, and telling her she's doing a wicked good job). Vivarin proceeds to regulate like a G Money. First off, she tells Migraine without prelude and in no uncertain terms that she needs to cheat on her husband posthaste in order to breed the Kwisatz Haderach with a guy (here, Merlin's palsy gets the better of him and he spills a dragon-shaped puddle of wine on the floor, which Vivarin decides is worth pointing at) who wears the symbol of a dragon-shaped puddle. So, basically, look for the guy with the drunk tattoo artist, as illustrated by my shuddering toady Merlin, and then screw him. Migraine's eyes water as she questions the morality of sleeping with a man that isn't her husband.