novelraw Chapter 111 – Wave Trough
Chapter 111 – Wave Trough
When Rava woke the next morning, the first thing she noticed was the emptiness beside her. Vivienne was gone, leaving only a faint warmth in the bedroll where she had lain. Her whole body ached pleasantly from the night before, a reminder of the storm both outside and within. The rhythmic patter of rain still echoed against the ward, relentless and steady, as if the world beyond their shelter refused to yield to morning.
With a groan, Rava stretched, the soreness in her muscles protesting as she moved. She dressed in silence, the sound of fabric shifting against her skin mingling with the rain’s drumming. Pushing her way out of the small tent, she blinked against the dim, overcast light.
The fire burned bright and steady against the damp chill, a comforting beacon in the grey morning. Ivor and Elira sat close to it, each bundled in their blankets like cocooned figures, their faces shadowed with weariness. They acknowledged Rava’s presence with a nod, but neither spoke, their silence a testament to the dreary weather and restless night.
Vivienne was sitting on the back of the wagon, staring out into the rainy steppes. Her figure was still, her tail curling loosely around the edge of the wagon, swaying gently as if mirroring the rhythm of the rain. The distant grey horizon seemed endless, its monotony broken only by the occasional gust of wind that rippled through the tall grasses.
Rava approached slowly, her boots pressing into the damp earth, each step deliberate. The aches from the previous night clung stubbornly to her body, but she paid them no mind. When she reached the wagon, she hoisted herself up with ease, the wood creaking slightly under her weight as she settled beside Vivienne.
Without a word, Rava reached into the pack slung over her shoulder and pulled out some dried meat, bread, and a water skin. She tore into the meat first, chewing methodically as her golden eyes flicked toward Vivienne.
The nightmare remained quiet, her gaze fixed on the rain-drenched expanse before them. But as Rava began to eat, Vivienne leaned closer, her head resting lightly against the warrior’s broad shoulder. The touch was casual, almost absent-minded, but the gesture carried a quiet intimacy that didn’t escape Rava’s notice.
She glanced down at Vivienne, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “You know, you could at least say good morning before stealing my shoulder,” she teased, her voice low and warm.
Vivienne huffed softly, her black eyes finally shifting to meet Rava’s. “Morning,” she murmured, her tone dry but affectionate.
Rava chuckled, tearing a chunk of bread and handing it to Vivienne without a word. The nightmare took it, her fingers brushing briefly against Rava’s as she did. She nibbled at the bread absentmindedly, her tail curling up to drape lightly over Rava’s leg.
For a while, they sat in comfortable silence, the rain’s steady rhythm filling the space between them. Rava tilted her head back slightly, taking a swig from the water skin before offering it to Vivienne. She took it, her grip on the skin as light as her touch had been earlier.
“You always watch the rain like this?” Rava asked finally, her tone casual but laced with curiosity.
Vivienne shrugged, her eyes drifting back to the horizon. “It’s soothing. I used to love rainy days, especially the sound of it as it hit the corrugated roof. So loud, I loved it.”
Rava tilted her head, watching Vivienne closely. "Corrugated roof?" she asked, her tone laced with genuine curiosity. "Is that something from your world?"
Vivienne nodded, a faint smile tugging at her lips. Her gaze remained on the rain-drenched expanse, but her eyes softened, as though she were seeing a memory play out before her. "Yeah. It was this kind of wavy sheet metal they used for roofs back home. Every drop of rain would hit it like a drum, and when it really poured, it sounded like a symphony. I’d curl up with a book or just sit and listen for hours."
Rava smirked faintly, leaning back on her palms. "Can’t imagine you curled up with a book. You’d probably bite someone’s head off if they interrupted you."
Vivienne shot her a sidelong glance, the corners of her mouth lifting in amusement. "I’d only bite their head off if they deserved it." Her tail shifted, playfully brushing against Rava’s leg.
Rava chuckled, the sound low and warm, reverberating between them like the distant rumble of thunder. "Fair enough," she said, leaning back slightly against the wagon. Her voice carried a weight that spoke of years of toil and grit. "I don’t think I ever had the luxury of sitting around and listening to the rain. Too much to do. Training. Fighting. Surviving. Rain just meant mud to slog through or a storm to wait out."
Vivienne giggled, the sound lighter, almost teasing in contrast to Rava's grounded tone. “You would say that, wouldn’t you? Always so practical.” She exhaled slowly, her gaze drifting to the horizon where the rain misted the fields in silvery veils. “But it’s not all storms and mud, you know. Sometimes it’s just… rain.”
Rava glanced at her, one brow arching slightly in question, but she didn’t interrupt.
Vivienne tilted her head back, her crystalline horns catching what little light broke through the clouds. “I learned something from last night.”
Rava’s brow furrowed, curiosity replacing her usual stoic expression. “What’s that?”
Vivienne’s lips curved into a small, mischievous smile, though her tone carried a note of seriousness. “I can eat the aether that comes off people as long as it’s an emotion. Fear tastes the best—probably because it’s the easiest to provoke. But I think I can do joy, too… and, well, lust.”
Rava’s expression didn’t falter, but her eyes narrowed slightly, betraying a flicker of unease—or was it intrigue? "You mean like… taking it from them? Do they feel it when you do?" Her voice was steady, though there was a subtle tension in the way she spoke, as if measuring each word.
Vivienne’s lips curled into a playful smirk, her tail flicking lazily behind her. “Did you?” she teased, her tone light but carrying an undercurrent of something more. Her eyes glimmered with a mix of mischief and curiosity, as though she found Rava’s reaction a little too intriguing to pass up. “You taste exquisite, by the way,” she added with a grin that tugged at the corners of her mouth.
Rava froze for a moment, the bread halfway to her mouth. The words hung in the air, and for a brief second, she appeared completely caught off guard. Her brow twitched, the faintest flush creeping up her neck, but she masked it quickly, shoving the bread into her mouth with an unceremonious gulp.
The stoic warrior choked on her bread.
Vivienne couldn’t help the low laugh that bubbled up from her chest, her voice soft and teasing as she leaned forward, her eyes sparkling. “Did I surprise you, Rava?”
Rava coughed, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand before shooting Vivienne a deadpan look. “You’re going to be the end of me, aren’t you?” she muttered, though the slight twinkle in her own eyes suggested she was more amused than annoyed. She cleared her throat, trying to regain her composure. “You should be more careful with your words, Viv.”
Rava spent most of the day sitting with Vivienne, their conversation ebbing and flowing like the gentle rhythm of the rain outside the ward. They spoke of small things—stories from Rava’s missions, fleeting memories Vivienne had of a life she could no longer fully recall. The words came easily, their tones light and unguarded, though every now and then, a silence would stretch between them. But even those moments felt natural, a shared quiet that didn’t demand to be filled.
Normally, the lack of activity would have set Rava on edge. She thrived on action, her body and mind accustomed to the constant cycle of training, missions, and preparation. But here, with Vivienne beside her, the restless energy that usually bubbled under her skin seemed distant, dulled by the comfortable presence of the smaller woman.
The rain continued its steady downpour, a curtain of gray stretching over the landscape, muting the world outside the ward. Occasionally, Vivienne’s tail would flick lazily against Rava’s leg, a subconscious gesture that made the lekine warrior smile faintly.
By late afternoon, the storm began to break, the rain dwindling to a light drizzle before stopping altogether. The air was thick with the scent of wet earth and fresh rain, and a pale light filtered through the thinning clouds. After a brief discussion, the group decided to remain camped for another night, giving the ground time to dry and ensuring a smoother journey in the morning.
The evening passed quietly. The fire crackled as Ivor cooked a simple meal, and the group huddled close, sharing warmth and stories under the now-clear sky. Rava found herself stealing glances at Vivienne, her thoughts lingering on the quiet moments they’d shared throughout the day.
The next morning dawned crisp and cool, the storm’s departure leaving the world feeling renewed. A soft mist clung to the ground as they packed up their camp, the routine of the task pulling them into an easy rhythm.
The journey south had been uneventful for the first few days. Vivienne’s black fur glistened faintly under the shifting light, and her long tail swayed lazily with each stride. The rhythmic crunch of wheels against the dirt road and the soft whinny of the horses created a lulling cadence that set the group at ease.
By the fourth day, the sun was dipping low, its golden rays painting the rolling plains in hues of amber and shadow. The air was damp from the previous day’s rain, and the breeze carried a faint chill that hinted at approaching dusk.
The stillness was broken by Renzia. She stood at the back of the wagon, her movements frantic, her gestures sharp as she waved her slate in one hand and pointed urgently toward the horizon with the other.
“What is it?” Rava called out, her sharp ears perking up at the urgency in the mannequin’s movements. She moved to stand by Renzia and followed the direction of her pointing finger.
At first, she saw nothing but the endless expanse of grassy steppes. Then, a flicker—a ripple, like heat rising from sunbaked stone—distorted the horizon. The shimmer grew more pronounced, an unnatural warping of the air that seemed to pulse faintly.
Vivienne slowed her pace, her sharp ears twitching as her nose lifted to scent the air. A low growl rumbled in her throat, her gaze fixed on the shimmering disturbance.
“What is that?” Elira asked nervously, edging closer to Ivor.
“It’s not natural,” Ivor muttered, his voice tense as he gripped the hilt of his sword.
“Stay alert,” Rava ordered, her claws flexing as her instincts prickled. She moved to the front of the wagon, placing herself between the group and the strange phenomenon.
The ripple on the horizon was hypnotic in its eerie beauty, a distortion that seemed to bend light and time itself. For a moment, all attention was locked on it, as though the shimmering demanded their focus.
That was when the attack came.
From behind.
It began with a chilling wail, a sound that tore through the air, freezing the blood in their veins. The first wraith emerged from the darkness like a ghost, its form translucent and flickering with a pale, otherworldly light. Its long, gnarled limbs were bent at impossible angles, its face a haunting void that seemed to flicker in and out of existence. As it moved, it distorted the space around it, warping the air with its presence.
Soon, dozens more followed, each with scattered runes across their malformed bodies.
“Soul wraiths!” Rava shouted, her voice ringing out over the sound of the wind and the distant crack of thunder. Her claws flexed instinctively, her muscles tensing as she immediately positioned herself in front of the group, eyes narrowing with practiced focus as she scanned the shifting shadows for more of the creatures. “Prepare yourselves!” she barked, her tone sharp and urgent, cutting through the rising tension like a blade.
Ivor’s hand shot to his sword, and with a swift motion, he unsheathed his blade. His shield followed, raised high, ready to intercept whatever horrors came their way. Elira, on the other hand, was already in motion. Her staff gleamed with a faint, ethereal light as she raised it, the tip glowing brighter as she muttered incantations under her breath, weaving the magic she needed to counter the wraiths' unnatural strength.
The first wraith launched itself toward Rava, a horrifying silhouette against the dimming light. Its limbs stretched unnaturally long, twisting in impossible angles, and its hollow eyes burned with an insatiable hunger. It reached out with gnarled fingers, its form flickering as though it was made of smoke, aiming straight for Rava.
But before it could strike, there was a blur of motion—a massive claw, the size of a small boulder, shot through the air, connecting with the wraith in a single swipe. The creature was sent flying, its form torn apart with a sickening shriek that echoed across the field. The remains dissolved into the air like mist, leaving only a faint trail of pale light.
Vivienne, in her colossus form, stood now in full glory—towering above the rest of the group, a titan of muscle and power. Her massive frame shifted with ease through the battlefield, the ground beneath her feet trembling with each deliberate step. The air felt heavier around her, as though the very atmosphere recognized her dominance. Her immense claws flexed, each one gleaming with a deadly promise.
Elira’s voice rang out, a sharp, commanding tone cutting through the tension. She raised her staff high, and the air around it shimmered, ripples of energy flowing from the tip as she began to chant in a low, resonant voice. The celestial aether coalesced around her, spiraling upwards like a luminous storm, a powerful force that seemed to bend the very fabric of reality itself.
Bright tendrils of light lanced out from the staff, weaving a protective barrier around the group. The celestial energy wrapped around Rava, Ivor, and the others, filling them with renewed strength and resolve. The light seemed to pulse with an otherworldly rhythm, a beacon of hope amidst the encroaching darkness of the soul wraiths.
“Hold fast!” Elira called, her eyes glowing with the power of the celestial aether. “This will shield us from their attacks!”
The wraiths, sensing the rising power, let out a chilling, inhuman hiss. They paused, their eerie, translucent forms flickering as if unsure whether to press forward. The light from Elira’s spell clashed against the unnatural darkness of the wraiths, creating a tangible tension in the air, like two opposing forces colliding.
The wraiths’ hesitation was brief. With a collective, shrieking cry, they lunged forward, their limbs bending in unnatural angles as they swarmed toward the group with terrifying speed. Their ghostly forms flickered, almost imperceptible against the shifting shadows of the battlefield, but their glowing eyes were unmistakable.
Vivienne’s massive claws sliced through the air, sweeping toward the closest wraith, but it darted away, vanishing into the mist before her strike could land. The others followed in kind, circling around the group, their eerie whispers blending with the howling wind.
“GET DOWN!” Kivvy’s voice rang out from within the wagon, sharp and urgent, as her hand shot out to throw the boom stick into the heart of the wraiths. Her eyes narrowed, every muscle tensed in preparation for the impending explosion.
The moment the boom stick hit the ground between the writhing wraiths, time seemed to slow. There was a brief, tense pause before the device erupted in a deafening BOOM, a wave of fire, light, and blinding noise cascading outward. The blast sent a shockwave that rattled the very air, the intensity of it enough to jar the ground beneath their feet.
The wraiths, their eerie, translucent bodies flickering like shadows, recoiled with a horrific screech, their forms dissipating into the air like smoke in the aftermath of the blast. Many of them retreated in pain, their shrieks of anguish filling the air, their once-formidable presences now disrupted, if only for a moment.
Vivienne, caught in the explosion’s wake, staggered backward, her enormous form unsteady as the searing wave of dawn aether caught her skin. Her massive claws flexed involuntarily as she hissed, the pure light and energy of the explosion scorching her flesh in a way she hadn’t anticipated. The aether from the boom stick was too pure, too bright—it burned through her like fire, an unnatural sting that made her momentarily lose her balance.
She bellowed a low, frustrated growl, shaking her massive frame to shake off the sting, her colossal form wracked with discomfort. The dawning aether lingered on her skin for a moment longer before it faded, but the heat from the blast still radiated from her body.
Rava was quick to react, her eyes narrowing as she saw Vivienne stagger. She darted forward, her claws raised in a protective stance, eyes darting between her ally and the remaining wraiths. “You alright, Vivienne?” she growled, her voice low but urgent.
Vivienne let out a huff, regaining her footing and shaking her head slightly, trying to push through the lingering effects of the blast. “I’m fine... just wasn’t expecting that,” she muttered, her glowing eyes narrowing as she scanned the wraiths regrouping around them.
Kivvy, from her position within the wagon, gave a satisfied grin, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Just a little something to even the odds,” she said, clearly pleased with the damage she had caused. “You’re welcome.”
But her grin faded quickly as she saw the wraiths regathering, more furious than ever. Their bodies crackled with dark energy, their eyes now glowing with an eerie, vengeful light. The blast had certainly hurt them, but it hadn’t destroyed them.
Each of the soul wraiths let out an ear-piercing shriek, a cacophony of sound that reverberated through the air, chilling the bones of all who heard it. Their bodies flickered, and the runes carved into their translucent forms began to glow with an unnatural, pulsating light. The air around them vibrated, an unsettling hum that seemed to crawl beneath the skin. The intensity of it was almost palpable, a force that threatened to suffocate the very atmosphere around them.
“They are about to use resonance!” Elira’s voice rang out, sharp and urgent, her face pale with concern. She gripped her staff tightly, her knuckles whitening as she prepared herself for the oncoming wave of soul magic. "We need to shield ourselves, now!"
Resonance, the dark art of manipulating souls, was one of the most dangerous forces they could face. It wasn’t just an attack—it was an invasive force, capable of warping a person's very essence. The wraiths would strike at their very cores, pulling at their souls, and using resonance could twist minds, shatter wills, or even sever a person’s connection to their own identity. The effects could be devastating, especially for those who weren’t prepared for it.
“Center yourselves! Do not let their resonance affect you!” Rava's voice rang out again, cutting through the oppressive hum that sought to unnerve them. Her stance was solid, her claws flexing in readiness, her every fiber radiating determination.
Elira, her focus unbroken, continued to chant, her voice steady despite the chaos around her. Her eyes gleamed with a celestial light, the dark irises flecked with tiny glimmers that looked like distant stars against an endless void. The tip of her staff began to pulse with an ethereal glow, threads of light spiraling outward as she moved with practiced precision. Slowly, deliberately, she traced patterns in the air, each line hanging suspended like liquid starlight.
The septagon took form, sharp and symmetrical, each edge humming faintly as Elira etched runes and intricate patterns within. The diagram hovered, shimmering with raw energy, its power palpable even to those nearby.
But the soul wraiths weren’t going to let her finish so easily. The creatures lunged forward, their jagged claws and warped teeth seeking to break her concentration. Their translucent forms rippled and distorted, moving with a speed that seemed to defy logic.
Ivor sprang into action, his shield raised as he intercepted the first wave. The collision was brutal—the weight of the wraiths slamming into his shield drove him back a step, mud spraying beneath his boots. He gritted his teeth, the dark energy of the creatures pushing against him like a living force. His sword lashed out, the edge glinting in the soft light of Elira's spell as it sliced through one wraith’s arm. The severed limb dissolved into vapor before it even hit the ground, but the creature didn’t stop, pressing harder against his shield.
“Keep them off her!” Rava barked, already in motion. Her claws tore into a wraith that had slipped past Ivor’s defense, rending its spectral form in two. The creature let out a gurgling hiss before evaporating into a wisp of black mist, but two more took its place, their glowing runes flickering with renewed intensity.
Vivienne, still in her colossal form, swept her massive tail in a wide arc, sending another group of wraiths sprawling. The ground quaked beneath her movements, and her deep, guttural growl resonated like thunder. She stomped forward, her claws slashing through another wraith that had dared to leap toward Elira.
The human woman didn’t flinch, her focus unshaken as she completed the intricate patterns inside the septagon. The spell nexus began to hum, the runes and lines glowing brighter as she poured more energy into it.
Renzia, with the grace of a dancer, pranced across the battlefield, her movements fluid and precise, like a deadly waltz. Each step was calculated, her feet barely touching the ground as she weaved between the wraiths. Her needles—long, thin, and razor-sharp—snaked out with uncanny accuracy, prodding and nicking at the translucent flesh of the creatures. The ethereal forms hissed and writhed as each needle found its mark, leaving behind faint trails of silver light in their wake. The wraiths seemed momentarily disoriented, their bodies flickering as if the very fabric of their existence was fraying.
Her movements were a blur, a constant shift of limbs as she darted in and out of the fray, evading strikes with a fluidity that betrayed the rigidity of her form. Her face remained a blank canvas, but the way her body moved—quick, decisive, almost instinctual—suggested a level of focus that was beyond human comprehension. With every strike, another wraith recoiled, its form dimming, as if its very essence was being drained by the relentless assault.
The soul wraiths, realizing the danger, redoubled their efforts. One leapt high, aiming to come down on Elira from above. Ivor swerved his shield upward, intercepting it mid-air with a thunderous clash, the wraith screeching as it recoiled and fell to the ground in a dull thud.
The group of wraiths let out a collective screech, the sound chilling the air as sickening energies radiated from them in waves. The dark, oppressive force coiled around them, drawing upon the very essence of the aether as it surged outward. The wraiths hovered in the air, their forms pulsing with a malevolent glow, their bodies twisting in unnatural ways as they prepared to unleash their final assault.
Then it hit.
Each of them felt it—a pulsing sensation that reached far beyond the boundaries of flesh and mind. It was as if something deep within them was twisting, unraveling their very being from the inside out. The sensation was primal, a gnawing force that burrowed into their bones and tore at their souls. It made their muscles seize, their hearts race, and their thoughts crumble.
Kivvy was the first to fall, her body convulsing as the force hit her like a sledgehammer. With a wet, sickening thud, she dropped off the wagon, her scream echoing through the air as she writhed on the ground. She clawed at her own flesh, her face contorted in pain, but no matter how she tried, the force inside her refused to relent.
Vivienne’s transformation came next, her form buckling under the pressure. Her body began to lose all cohesion, melting into a massive writhing mass of tentacles, teeth, and countless eyes. The sight was monstrous—her shape shifting uncontrollably as discordant screams erupted from her newly-formed mouths. The cacophony deafened the group, each scream an assault on their senses.
Rava staggered, her knees buckling beneath her as the energy gripped her. She barely managed to hold herself upright, her claws digging into the dirt for stability, but the force was overwhelming. She could feel herself slipping, her own body fighting against the foreign intrusion that had taken root within her.
Elira, too, felt the pull. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her brow slick with sweat as she pushed through the pain to maintain her spell. Her staff flickered, the energy around her crackling with the strain, but she gritted her teeth and pressed on, determined not to falter in the face of this overwhelming force.
Amidst the chaos, only Ivor and Renzia remained unaffected. Ivor stood tall, his expression grim but resolute. His shield was up, his stance firm, as though the wraiths' attack had no power over him. Renzia, ever the enigma, continued her fluid dance, her movements unchanged as she pierced the wraiths with her needles, unaffected by the pulsing terror that ravaged the others.