Mother of Midnight

Chapter 138 – Reunited

Vivienne’s arms were heavy with exhaustion, but she didn’t falter. She could feel Tarric’s weight in her arms as she carefully shifted him into a more stable position, securing him under one arm at his shoulders and the other beneath his knees. His breathing was shallow, but steady, and for a moment, the weight of everything seemed to fade. She had done what she could for him, at least for now, and the poison was gone, but the battle had left its mark on him. 

With a quiet grunt, Vivienne shifted her stance, the motion slower than usual, her muscles protesting the movement. Still, she didn’t hesitate, walking with deliberate, measured steps towards Rava. Her heart tightened as she approached her companion, seeing the toll the battle had taken on her. Rava lay on the ground, her chest rising and falling unevenly, her breaths labored. There was no telling how much of her own strength had been drained, but it was clear the fight had pushed her to her limits.

Rava’s fur was still crackling with remnants of the lightning enchantments she had used during the fight. Tiny arcs of electricity snapped and sparked around her body, creating an almost mesmerizing display in the dimly lit chamber. But the energy didn’t seem to reach her eyes. The fierce warrior who had been charging into battle without a second thought now appeared weary, vulnerable in a way Vivienne wasn’t used to seeing her.

Vivienne’s gaze softened, but her resolve was unwavering. She couldn’t afford to let Rava fall now, not after everything they had been through. She knelt beside Rava, carefully lowering Tarric’s limp form onto the ground beside her, turning her full attention to her companion. “Hey, sweetheart,” Vivienne said, her voice gentle but firm, as she reached down to gently lift Rava’s head. “We’re not done yet. Stay with me, alright?”

Rava’s eyes fluttered open for a moment, her eyelids heavy, but a faint, tired smile tugged at the corner of her lips. “I’m... still here,” she managed, her voice hoarse, barely more than a whisper. There was no fighting spirit in her words now—just the raw fatigue of someone who had pushed themselves beyond what was possible.

Vivienne’s fingers were gentle as they brushed against Rava’s face, the sensation of her skin soft and warm beneath her touch, even as lightning crackled in the air between them. The faint hum of energy shifted, vibrating against her fingertips, but Vivienne didn’t pull away. She allowed her hand to slide down the side of Rava’s neck, feeling the deep, rhythmic pulse of her life force beneath the skin—strong but strained. The crackling energy that had surrounded Rava like a living storm seemed to dance around her touch, flickering with each passing moment.

“Can you… absorb her aether?” Tarric’s voice cut through the tension, weak but focused.

Vivienne glanced over at him, her expression softening at the sight of his drained state. But she didn’t hesitate. She nodded in response to his question, then moved with purpose.

Placing her claws on Rava’s stomach, Vivienne began to pull. At first, she felt the sharp jolt of energy coursing through her, the crackling lightning that still surrounded Rava’s body unwilling to fully let go. But Vivienne wasn’t deterred; she pressed deeper, her claws sinking slightly into Rava’s flesh as she drank the energy in. It was slow at first, almost hesitant, as if Rava’s power didn’t want to part with her, but Vivienne was patient. Gradually, the energy around them seemed to calm, the violent arcs of lightning growing weaker, more faint, until they were little more than a soft static hum in the air.

Finally, when the last flickers of electricity faded and the air around them grew still, Vivienne pulled away. Her own body was drained from the effort, but the relief was immediate, the sudden lightness that came from taking in Rava’s energy giving her a brief moment of respite.

Tarric, who had remained still throughout the process, moved with careful precision. His fingers traced an intricate symbol in the air, and with a low chant, a soft glow surrounded Rava’s body. Slowly, the worst of her wounds began to close, the gashes and bruises knitting together under the warmth of the spell.

Vivienne let out a long, steadying breath, her shoulders sagging with a faint sense of relief. She smiled at Rava, her expression tender as she gazed down at her recovering companion. It was a smile as warm as Vivienne’s face could allow, despite the exhaustion still lingering in her bones. “I have something else to take care of, you two rest,” she said, her voice laced with both affection and determination.

Without waiting for a response, she stood up, her movement fluid and swift despite her weariness. Her tail swayed behind her as she turned toward the source of the problem—Alisaria. The woman was still alive, though barely. Her breaths were ragged, each one a strained gasp that sounded more like an effort to hold on to what little remained of her life force.

Vivienne’s lips curled into a predatory grin, her eyes narrowing with the cold satisfaction of someone who had seen their enemy fall. She approached slowly, her steps measured, as if savoring the final moments before the inevitable.

“Still alive, are we, darling?” Vivienne’s voice was low, almost a purr, the sharpness of her words cutting through the tense silence. Her eyes glimmered with cruel amusement, but there was something else there too—a spark of curiosity, perhaps, or something akin to respect. She wanted to know what made Alisaria tick, to understand what drove her to challenge them.

Alisaria’s breaths grew increasingly shallow, her body trembling with each labored inhale. Her once-proud gaze flickered towards Vivienne, a mix of defiance and bitter resignation gleaming in her eyes. Blood pooled beneath her, dark and sticky, staining the stone beneath her in a grim display of her rapidly fading life. Despite the growing weakness in her voice, she managed to tilt her head slightly, attempting to lock eyes with Vivienne, though her focus was becoming blurred.

She opened her mouth, but only a strangled gasp escaped her lips, each breath an agonized struggle. Her chest rose and fell weakly, the blood continuing to flow from the wound Vivienne had inflicted. Still, her spirit clung to something—defiance, pride, or perhaps mere stubbornness.

Vivienne stood over her, her figure towering and immovable. She tilted her head slightly, her lips curling into a smile that held no warmth, only the cold satisfaction of victory. She let her words linger in the air, her tone thick with mockery.

"You were decent prey," Vivienne purred, her voice laced with malicious amusement. "How does it feel to be abandoned by your ally? If you'd actually worked together, you might have won. That sword of yours would have hurt me badly."

Alisaria’s eyes flickered with a brief, final spark of defiance at the mention of her ally, her gaze hardening even as her body continued to betray her. She opened her mouth once more, attempting to speak, but her words came out garbled, blood seeping from her lips.

"All… will… bow to… Praxus," she croaked, her voice a raspy whisper of something far bigger than herself. Even in the face of death, Alisaria clung to the cause she had fought for, her final breath a testament to her loyalty to the figure she revered.

Vivienne's laughter rang out, a high-pitched, sing-song tone that was anything but gentle. The sound was cruel, echoing in the chamber, and it sent a shiver down the spine of anyone who might have been nearby. She leaned in closer, her face mere inches from Alisaria’s, her eyes glinting with wicked delight.

"Oh, darling," Vivienne hummed, a malicious grin spreading across her face. "I’m going to eat you, and your allies, and every last one of Praxus's champions. The world will belong to me—and those who follow him will know the same fate."

With a swift motion, Vivienne plunged her claws deep into Alisaria's thigh, twisting them cruelly. The woman’s body jerked in pain, a garbled cry bubbling from her throat, but it was too late. Vivienne’s grip tightened, savoring the moment, feeling the last remnants of Alisaria's strength drain away with each passing second.

Vivienne’s voice was soft, almost tender, as she taunted her. "But don’t worry, darling. You’ll be the first to know what it’s like to fall. And I promise—no one will be left to avenge you."

Alisaria’s body trembled, the last shudders of life wracking her fragile frame. Vivienne stood over her, watching with detached interest as the blood spilled from the woman’s chest in dark, heavy streams, pooling beneath her like a lake of death. Her breath, shallow and labored, became less and less frequent, each one rasping through cracked lips, until finally—there was nothing but silence.

For a moment, Vivienne simply stared at the crumpled form beneath her, noting how the blood began to darken as it spread. Her senses, still attuned to the aether coursing through the air, could feel the life force slipping away, leaving nothing behind but the empty shell of a champion who had failed.

“Such a pity,” Vivienne mused softly, her voice dripping with amusement. She crouched down beside Alisaria’s still form, her claws gleaming in the dim light as she traced the air around her body. “You had so much potential, darling. But you were just a stepping stone, weren’t you?”

The blood continued to pool around Alisaria, but Vivienne was no longer watching the slow drain of life. Instead, her attention was drawn to the delicious, intoxicating scent of the blood, the richness of it, so dense with aether that it practically hummed in the air. Every drop of it sang to Vivienne, filling her senses with the promise of power.

The woman’s armor, still clasped tightly around her body, was a barrier that Vivienne would not let stand. With one swift motion, her claws dug into the leather, shredding it with ease. The smell of leather and iron filled the air, but it was quickly drowned out by the more intoxicating scent of blood. Vivienne paused for a moment, relishing the heady rush that surged through her veins as the first taste of it filled her mouth.

She leaned in closer, her tail flicking with anticipation, her body humming with energy as her claws continued their work. Alisaria’s flesh, now exposed, was soft, but beneath the surface, there was something far more potent—something ancient and powerful. With a deep breath, Vivienne dragged her sharp claws down Alisaria’s side, her grip firm and deliberate. The flesh parted easily, and the warm, rich blood spilled from the wound in a fresh cascade.

As the blood spread, Vivienne’s senses sharpened further. The power contained within the woman’s body was thick and intoxicating, like an elixir of vitality that flowed through her veins. Vivienne’s mouth watered at the thought of what she was about to do. The air crackled around her as she drew in the aether from the blood, her tail swaying rhythmically with the beat of her pulse.

She could feel the power deep within the marrow of Alisaria’s bones, resonating with a low hum. The taste of it sent an immediate wave of pleasure through her, a sharp thrill that ran through her very being. Vivienne’s eyes closed for a moment, her body shuddering with the intensity of it as she drank deeply from the wound she had opened. The blood was thick and viscous, coating the inside of her mouth in a way that made her feel like she could savor it forever.

Her claws moved without hesitation, stripping away the last remnants of Alisaria’s armor. The woman’s skin was slick with blood, but Vivienne didn’t care—she only cared for the deliciously potent aether that was now freely flowing from the corpse beneath her. The flesh was tender, but it held so much more power than any mortal could comprehend. Vivienne’s lips curled into a smile, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction as she slowly tore into the woman’s flesh, tasting the sharp, metallic sweetness of the blood that pooled in her mouth.

Every bite was like a revelation, a moment of pure indulgence. Vivienne’s body trembled as she devoured the champion’s flesh, each piece more intoxicating than the last. The energy poured into her, filling her, enhancing her strength with every second. It was almost too much to handle, but Vivienne welcomed it, relishing the heady feeling of the power surging through her.

By the time she had eaten her fill, Alisaria’s once-beautiful form was reduced to little more than a bloodied, ravaged shell. Vivienne stood over her, her body still humming with energy as she surveyed the damage. Her claws were slick with blood, her lips stained red, and her breath came in slow, steady breaths as she enjoyed the aftertaste of her feast.

She licked her lips, savoring the final remnants of the delicious, aether-rich blood. The power she had absorbed from the fallen champion surged within her, and Vivienne felt as if she could take on the world. Her smile widened, a predatory gleam in her eyes. The battle was over, and she had claimed her prize—every drop, every piece, every last vestige of Alisaria’s strength now belonged to her.

As the energy continued to swell inside her, Vivienne stood tall, her body glowing with newfound power. Her tail flicked with excitement as she looked down at the empty shell of the woman who had once been so strong, now nothing more than a fading memory. With a satisfied sigh, she turned away, already feeling the hunger for more beginning to stir within her.

It felt different too. Not just in the way it filled her body with power, but in the lingering essence that clung to her senses. From the soldiers she had devoured before, there had been a raw, primal vitality—simple, unrefined aether meant to fuel her strength, nothing more. But this was different. Alisaria’s flesh had been saturated with something else entirely. It wasn’t just mortal strength. There was a lingering whisper of something greater, something ancient. It tasted of steel and lightning, but beneath that, there was something richer—something that thrummed like distant thunder in her veins. It felt... divine.

Maybe it was the taste of the touch of divinity? That faint spark of power granted by Praxus, woven into Alisaria’s being and now absorbed into Vivienne’s. She wasn’t sure, but she intended to find out. She needed more. The memory of the taste, of the way the aether surged through her, left her wanting. She didn’t just crave the strength—it was the mystery of it, the layers of power and purpose hidden within each bite. Eating champions wasn’t like eating soldiers or even aetherbeasts. Soldiers were just bodies; aetherbeasts, though powerful, were chaotic and wild. Their fragmented memories always wormed their way into her mind, flashes of instincts and feral desires. But this—this was something deliberate. Purposeful. A champion was more than just a servant of a god. They carried a piece of their patron’s will, a fragment of divinity forged into mortal form.

She would need to eat more champions to fully understand it. To unlock whatever it was that made this taste so unique, so tantalizing. Fortunately, Praxus still had two more champions. If they tasted anything like Alisaria, she could gain enough insight to understand what made them special, what gave them their strength. And perhaps... just perhaps... if she could find a way to reach Akhenna, she could learn of other gods who deserved to be relieved of their champions. After all, if one champion tasted like this, who knew what secrets lay hidden in the flesh of others? The thought made her lips curl into a smile, dark and hungry.

With the rush of aether still coursing through her, she stretched her limbs, feeling the strength returning to her body in waves. The exhaustion from earlier, the gnawing weakness she had felt after Tarric had to destroy half of her, was gone. In its place was a new vitality, one that left her feeling more solid, more powerful than before. It wasn’t an overwhelming transformation—she hadn’t leapt forward by an impossible margin—but it was significant. Enough that she could feel it in the way her muscles tensed, in the way her claws flexed effortlessly, in the steady, confident thrum of her pulse.

She could still feel the faint residue of the poison that had once plagued her, but it was little more than a shadow now, a distant memory. Her body had burned through it as easily as she had consumed Alisaria’s strength. Whatever that poison had been, it paled in comparison to the raw energy she had just absorbed. That thought brought a flicker of satisfaction to her mind. She had not only survived but emerged stronger, while her enemy lay in pieces at her feet.

Vivienne clenched her claws into fists, watching the subtle ripple of power beneath her dark, grey skin. She hadn’t just regained her strength; she had evolved. Every battle, every enemy devoured, every champion consumed would bring her closer to something greater. Something beyond what she had ever imagined. This wasn’t just about survival or even revenge anymore. It was about becoming more. Becoming something no god or mortal could stand against.

Her eyes drifted back to the others—Tarric, still regaining his strength, and Rava, her breathing now steady since her wounds had closed. They had done well, but Vivienne knew they would need to be even stronger for what was to come. Praxus’s champions were powerful, and while she had managed to defeat Alisaria, the next two might not be as easy to overcome. That only made her hunger grow.

Yes, she would eat them as well. And if Praxus himself dared to stand in her way... well, gods had flesh too, didn’t they?