Mother of Midnight

Chapter 145 – Indulgence

In Korriva’s office, the atmosphere was markedly different from the grand hall they had just left. The room was spacious yet understated, lit by a series of low-burning lanterns that bathed everything in a soft amber glow. Shelves lined the walls, filled with ancient tomes, scrolls, and carefully arranged curios—each one likely carrying a story of its own. A large window framed the far wall, through which the faint silver light of the moon spilled in, casting long shadows across the dark wood floor.

They had taken seats across from each other, Korriva settled in a high-backed chair, her posture upright yet at ease, while Vivienne lounged comfortably on a chaise, her long tail curling lazily over the edge. Between them sat a small table, upon which Korriva placed a delicate decanter of deep amber liquid and two finely cut glasses.

“I find that honest conversations are best shared in a quiet place, accompanied by good drinks,” Korriva said, her tone calm but purposeful.

“I can’t argue with that,” Vivienne replied, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.

“Serkoth Feneh,” Korriva said as she uncorked the decanter, her tone matter-of-fact yet tinged with a note of pride. “One of our finest luxury goods, made from whur root. A rarity outside our borders.” She poured the rich, golden liquid into each glass with practiced precision, the aroma wafting through the room—an enticing blend of sweetness and spice. With a practiced motion, she slid one glass toward Vivienne.

Vivienne nodded her thanks, lifting the glass with a graceful flick of her claws. She gave it a curious sniff before taking a sip, her expression immediately shifting. Her eyes widened slightly, the usual sharpness in them momentarily replaced by surprise.

“That isn’t what I was expecting,” she admitted after a moment, swirling the liquid gently in her glass. “It’s rather fruity.” Her voice carried a faint note of amusement, as though she had braced herself for something far more bitter or fiery.

Korriva smiled faintly, a rare expression that softened her otherwise stoic features. “Whur root has a naturally bitter taste, but when properly aged and blended, it takes on a unique profile. Fruity, as you said, with undertones of spice. A drink meant to be savored, not rushed.” She took a slow sip of her own, her gaze never leaving Vivienne, as though watching her reaction was as much a part of the ritual as the drink itself.

Vivienne took another sip, this time slower, letting the flavors unfold across her tongue. “I’ll admit,” she said, setting the glass down carefully, “I can see why it’s considered a luxury. This is far better than most of the swill I’ve had the displeasure of tasting in the past.”

Korriva’s expression didn’t change much, but there was a glint of amusement in her eyes. “I’d imagine your past tastes were… unconventional, given your reputation.”

Vivienne chuckled softly, leaning back further into the chaise, her claws drumming lightly against the side of her glass. “Oh, you’ve no idea. But I have to say, I appreciate this. A pleasant surprise is rare these days.”

For a moment, the room fell into a companionable silence, the flickering lantern light casting soft shadows across the walls. The faint clink of glassware and the quiet crackle of the low-burning flames filled the stillness. Korriva leaned back slightly in her chair, her usual rigid posture loosening as though the weight of command had momentarily lifted from her shoulders.

“Admittedly, I wanted to know more of our… shared home,” Korriva said at last, her tone softer now, almost contemplative. “My duties come first, as always, but since we last spoke of it, it’s been lingering at the back of my mind.”

Vivienne tilted her glass, watching the amber liquid catch the light before taking another sip. The warmth spread through her, though it did little to quiet the distant memories rising in her mind. “A lot can change in two thousand years,” she replied, her voice carrying a note of nostalgia that didn’t quite match her usual playful demeanor.

Korriva gave a quiet laugh, a sound that seemed almost foreign coming from her. The High Fang was typically so composed, so controlled, that this moment of levity felt oddly out of place. Yet it wasn’t unwelcome. “Indeed,” she said, her expression softening further. “I was reborn over four hundred years ago, and even in that time, the world has changed in ways I could scarcely have imagined.”

Vivienne leaned forward slightly, resting an elbow on the arm of the chaise, her tail curling lazily beneath her. “From one hundred years before I was born until the day I… died,” she began, her voice steady yet laced with something indefinable—something between awe and bitterness—“the world changed more than it had in the previous eight thousand years combined.”

Korriva’s brows lifted slightly, intrigue flashing in her eyes. “How so?”

Vivienne’s lips curved into a thoughtful smile as she hummed, tapping a clawed finger against her glass in a rhythmic motion. “Hmm, what are the big ones? Let’s see... Oh, travel.” Her smile grew wider. “Traveling the world was measured in hours, or at most a day or two.”

Korriva regarded her with a mixture of skepticism and curiosity. “That seems impossible,” she said, her voice betraying just a hint of disbelief. To her, such a thing defied the natural order of the world she knew.

Vivienne giggled softly, a sound both light and eerie. “For the longest time, yes, it seemed impossible. But eventually, it became so commonplace that it wasn’t just a luxury—it was the main mode of travel. People thought nothing of crossing vast oceans or continents in mere hours.” She paused, savoring the lingering taste of the feneh on her tongue before adding, “We didn’t stop there. We started venturing beyond Earth, setting our sights on the other planets in our solar system. As far as I know, by the time I died, colonizing other worlds had become a reality. We set up little, lets just say, fortresses. They circled the planets like tiny moons. Mostly used for mining though.”

Korriva’s expression turned thoughtful, the weight of such a revelation settling over her. She swirled the liquid in her glass absently, as though trying to process the scale of what Vivienne described. “Beyond Gaea…” she echoed quietly, more to herself than to Vivienne. It was clear that while she had seen much change in her own time, this concept was beyond anything she had imagined.

Vivienne leaned back, a satisfied smirk playing at her lips. “Hard to believe, isn’t it? I suppose it sounds more like myth than fact. But humans didn’t think in terms of what was impossible—only in terms of how soon it could be done.”

Korriva nodded thoughtfully, her fingers idly tracing the rim of her glass. “I can agree to that. Even in this world, I’ve seen how ambition drives people to surpass their limitations. But to move at such a pace, to leave behind all sense of what once defined possibility… It’s something else entirely.”

Vivienne tilted her head, her smile lingering but her eyes glinting with something sharper—something resembling pride, or perhaps nostalgia. “Ah, also, everyone carried around a device with them,” she added, gesturing lazily with her hand, as though conjuring the image of something long gone. “It could communicate with almost anyone else on the planet, no matter where they were. Not only that, but it had access to the culmination of most human knowledge—centuries of learning, stored in a single place.”

Korriva’s eyes narrowed slightly, her interest clearly piqued. “A device that allows instant communication and grants access to knowledge…” She paused, mulling over the implications. “If such things existed, I can’t imagine how different life must have been. That level of connection, of… information. Entire wars have been fought over the control of knowledge. Yet, you speak as if it was something trivial.”

Vivienne leaned back, crossing one leg over the other, her tail lazily swaying across the floor as she thought back. “Cell phones were originally nothing more than communication tools. Imagine being able to send a message or talk to someone hundreds, even thousands of miles away, instantly. That alone was revolutionary. But as technology advanced, those little devices evolved. They became personal assistants, libraries, maps, entertainment centers—things people depended on every waking moment. By the time I… well, before I ended up here, it was strange not to have one. Even children carried them.”

Korriva’s expression remained neutral, though there was a glint of intrigue in her golden eyes. “Such rapid progress. And all of this was commonplace?”

“Completely,” Vivienne said with a slight smirk. “By the end, it wasn’t even about whether you had one—it was about how advanced your device was. People competed over having the fastest, most capable models.”

“Curious,” Korriva mused. “It sounds both remarkable and exhausting. Still, I’m more interested in something else. What became of Hallas, my homeland?”

Vivienne took a moment to recall, running her fingers along her chin thoughtfully. “Hallas… ah, yes. It became a nation eventually, called Greece, unifying the city-states under one banner. It endured for centuries as a small, independent country with severe economic issues, but after the Third World War, it lost much of its territory. Even so, it remained a nation when last I knew.”

Korriva frowned slightly. “What exactly is a ‘world war’? Did every nation participate?”

“No, not quite. Many, many worldwide did though.” Vivienne replied, her tone turning serious. “The First World War was sparked by political games, alliances, and a mess of treaties that went south. It was basically a bloodbath caused by a bunch of egotistical leaders who didn’t know when to back down. The Second? That one was a lot worse—a madman with too much ambition and too little empathy decided to conquer as much of the world as he could. He very nearly succeeded before everyone else rallied together and crushed him.”

Korriva’s brow furrowed in thought. “And the Third?”

Vivienne sighed, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. “The Third was… different. It wasn’t fought over land or politics in the traditional sense. It was a war over resources—water, to be precise. The world was already stretched thin, and when the water crisis hit, it became a fight for survival. Nations turned on each other, alliances broke apart, and it was every country for itself. It reshaped the entire world.”

“A war fought over water…” Korriva repeated, her voice tinged with disbelief and contemplation. “Was water truly so scarce?”

“Clean drinking water was,” Vivienne replied, swirling the amber liquid in her glass thoughtfully. “It wasn’t just about greed—it was desperation. People don’t realize how fragile their civilization is until it’s teetering on the edge of collapse. The moment something essential runs dry, even the most advanced societies can unravel frighteningly fast.” She took a slow sip, letting the warmth linger in her chest before continuing. “In the end, it wasn’t about victory or defeat. No one truly won. Borders were redrawn, populations devastated, entire cultures wiped from existence.”

Korriva’s golden eyes remained fixed on Vivienne, quietly absorbing the weight of her words. “Turbulent… and tragic. For such devastation to occur in such a brief span of time—it sounds as though your world was constantly hurtling toward catastrophe.”

Vivienne gave a somber nod, lowering her glass. “Yeah, it did feel that way. The first two world wars were long before my time, ancient history by the time I was born. But I was eleven when the third one broke out. I remember the tension in the air, how even though I was from a tiny island nation mostly spared from the bloodshed, the conflict still cast a long shadow. We had water, but rationing it was… harsh. It defined everything. Survival became our way of life.”

She paused, as if weighing her next words, before offering a small, wry smile. “Funny how something so simple, something everyone takes for granted, could decide the fate of the world.”

“I hope nothing like that ever comes to pass here,” Korriva said, her tone heavy with both concern and reflection. She leaned forward slightly, resting her forearms on the table, the amber liquid in her glass rippling faintly with the movement.

Vivienne nodded, her expression softening. “I agree. No one deserves to see their world unravel like that.” Her voice, though calm, carried a faint undercurrent of the same gravity that weighed on Korriva’s words. She understood the fragility of peace all too well.

Korriva let out a long sigh, her shoulders visibly relaxing as if releasing a burden she didn’t realize she was carrying. “I suppose I should get to business now,” she said, her tone shifting to something more formal, though not entirely losing its warmth.

Vivienne raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile creeping onto her lips. “Oh? You didn’t just invite me here to relax, indulge in some fine feneh, and bask in the company of a charming conversationalist while learning a bit about the ancient world?”

Korriva snorted softly, though her lips twitched in what might have been the ghost of a smile. “I suppose it’s an added bonus. But no. There are matters that I wanted to discuss.”

Vivienne leaned back, still cradling her glass in one hand, the deep amber liquid swirling gently within it. Her tail curled lazily around the leg of the chaise, the sharp, obsidian blade at its tip glinting faintly in the dim light. She looked perfectly at ease, but her black eyes shimmered with quiet curiosity. “Fair enough,” she drawled, her voice soft but edged with anticipation. “Let’s get to it, then.”

Korriva shifted in their seat, the weight of the conversation yet to come pressing down like an unseen force. After a moment's hesitation, she leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees. “I want an… alliance of sorts.”

Vivienne’s lips curved into a slight, knowing smile, her claws tapping lightly against the glass. "An alliance, hmm?" she mused, her tone both playful and cautious. "You’ll have to be a little more specific, darling. What kind of alliance are we talking about? Business? Blood? Something a bit more... entertaining?"

Korriva shifted again, placing her glass on the table, fingers steepling as she spoke. “Most of the time, champions will stay out of each other’s way, unless their god demands otherwise. While I have full faith I can defend this part of the steppes, humans are great in number, and their remaining champions are nothing to scoff at. What they lack in strength, they make up for in cunning and coordination. Despite Drakthar being a rival clan, if they fell, it would be catastrophic. The Sovereignty would gain control of the northern pass and reinforce their foothold. We cannot afford that.”

“And you would like to make an exception to that by asking for a more formal partnership from me?” Asked Vivienne.

“Indeed. I cannot leave this stronghold—not with war hanging over us like a storm on the horizon. You may not have fully grown into your power yet, but compared to when I first saw you, you’ve advanced remarkably fast.” Korriva’s gaze was steady, her words carrying a weight of expectation. “I want you to help Drakthar. If what Tarric discovered is true—a giant fighting on the side of the Sovereignty—that’s a threat we can’t ignore.”

Vivienne leaned forward slightly, her expression sharpening with interest. “And what exactly do you need me to do?”

“Go with Rava to seek out the tempest giant. Convince her to aid us. She owes me a favor,” Korriva replied without hesitation.

Vivienne arched a brow, recalling her previous encounter with a giant. “I’ve only met one so far, the loam giant. Having any giant in your debt sounds like a monumental feat.”

Korriva let out a dry scoff, a faint smirk playing on her lips. “It’s not as impressive as you’d think. Serranos may be a fierce warrior, always seeking new battles to satisfy her thirst for conflict, but the tempest giant herself is... different. Lazy, if we’re being honest. She doesn’t involve herself unless forced to. The favor she owes me? I earned that over a century ago by solving a problem she couldn’t be bothered to handle.”

Vivienne’s eyes gleamed with curiosity. “Lazy or not, a tempest giant is still a tempest giant. Convincing her sounds like a task worth the effort.”

Korriva shrugged, her tone nonchalant but tinged with seriousness. “Don’t expect gratitude from her. She may owe me, but giants are fickle, and their sense of honor is… fluid, at best. Approach this carefully.”

“I am curious though—why send me, and not someone you know better?” Vivienne asked, finishing the last of her glass of feneh, the rich warmth of the drink lingering on her tongue. She placed the empty glass on the table with a quiet clink, her eyes narrowing slightly in curiosity. “Surely you have alternatives you’ve trusted for years.”

Korriva leaned back slightly, her expression composed but thoughtful. “I am sending Rava with you, am I not?” she countered, her tone calm but carrying a faint edge of finality.

“Fair,” Vivienne admitted, but she wasn’t letting it go that easily. “Still doesn’t exactly answer my question. Why me, someone you barely know, for something this important? This seems to be a very important task.”

“If you anger her, then it’s not the biggest loss for me. Rava carries my blood, so the risk is far lower for her,” Korriva said with a tired sigh, her expression hardening into something more pragmatic. “Also, every time you leave my city, you seem to return stronger. If you keep this up, you’ll soon be more than just an anomaly—perhaps a key player in this war. A powerful champion as an ally would be monumental to our efforts. In some ways, having you by Rava’s side actually eases some of my concerns.”

Vivienne’s lips curled into a sly smile, her tail flicking lazily behind her. “Is that so? I’ll freely admit I’m a monster… and you still find it comforting?”

Korriva didn’t flinch. Her reply came curtly, with the cold certainty of someone who had long since accepted hard truths. “All champions are monsters. Some just hide it better than others.”

Vivienne tilted her head slightly, her black eyes gleaming with interest as she absorbed Korriva’s words. “I see. Practical. I like that.” She tapped her clawed fingers on the armrest of her chair. “So, what’s in it for me?”

Korriva arched an eyebrow, her tone measured and deliberate. “What do you want?”

Vivienne leaned forward, her expression one of calm confidence, though a faint predatory edge lingered beneath her smile. “Coin. Enough to fund some of my… hobbies. Also…” Her grin widened, dark amusement playing across her face. “If you have any criminals awaiting execution for any reason, and I happen to be around, I would like them. Dead or alive, preferably alive.”

Korriva’s eyes narrowed slightly, studying Vivienne with a wary but curious gaze. She folded her hands, resting them atop her knees as she mulled over the unusual request. There was no disgust in her expression, no outrage—just careful consideration.

“Strange request.” Korriva finally said, her voice neutral. “Why?”

Vivienne’s smile didn’t waver, but the room seemed to grow a fraction colder, the shadows around her subtly shifting. “Let’s just say I don’t like wasting resources.”

“Crime is low here, even more so for offenses worthy of death,” Korriva responded, her tone steady, thoughtful. She tapped a clawed finger lightly against her armrest, weighing the request as if it were an odd trinket handed to her. “But I suppose I can grant it, should the occasion arise. Is that all?”

Vivienne gave a nod, her expression relaxed, almost playful. “Yes. I would like a proper home at some point, but I can earn that through the coin I’ll make. I don’t want to keep imposing on your clan’s hospitality longer than necessary.” She glanced out the window, watching the dim light of day slipping through the heavy stone walls. “I don’t wish for much. Just power, food, and a place to rest.” Her voice carried a hint of irony, as if amused by the simplicity of her own demands.

“Understandable. Please go within the next nine days. Any later and it would be too late. Make any preparations you need. Rava will know what to do.” Korriva stood, her movements fluid yet firm, betraying the weight of her station. She adjusted her mantle before turning to face Vivienne fully. “I must return to my duties. Thank you for indulging me. It’s been… informative.”

Vivienne straightened in her seat, stretching her arms and tail with languid grace, as though she’d just awoken from a deep nap. The faint glimmer of amusement still danced in her eyes. “Uneasy is the head that wears the crown,” she mused, her voice soft, almost teasing. “The pleasure was all mine, really. Oh, and I might have to see about getting more of that feneh. It was exquisite.”

Korriva offered a faint, approving nod as Vivienne turned to leave, the soft clack of her claws against the wooden floor echoing behind her.

“Power, food, and a place to rest,” Vivienne murmured to herself, her lips curving into a sly, knowing smile. “Such modest goals... for now.”