Mother of Midnight

Chapter 150 – Simply Complicated

“So, will this work for you?” Rava asked, her arms crossed casually but her eyes sharp, watching Kivvy closely.

The goblin, still wiping a bit of drool from the corner of her mouth, nodded numbly as she surveyed the workshop setup. “Yeah. Yeah, this will work. It’s better than I expected, honestly.” She paused, glancing around the room before tilting her head at Rava. “What do I do for materials, though?”

“If you can give me a proper list of what you need, and justify why it’s necessary for our next expedition, I’ll fund it myself,” Rava replied confidently, shrugging one broad shoulder. “We can’t have you working with shoddy tools.”

Kivvy blinked, surprised by the offer but too proud to gush about it. “That’s… generous. I’ll get that list to you soon. Where are we going, by the way?”

“To the north. We’ll be visiting the Tempest Titan.”

Kivvy froze, her ears twitching slightly as she processed the words. “What’s a Titan?” she asked, her voice laced with both curiosity and a hint of wariness.

Rava gave her a long, incredulous stare, lips parted slightly in disbelief. “You’ve not heard of the Titans?” she asked, her tone teetering on exasperation. It was the kind of tone someone used when they discovered their friend didn’t know what the moon was.

“Sheltered, remember?” Kivvy reminded her dryly, her voice carrying a note of defensiveness. She folded her arms, as if bracing for whatever lecture was coming.

Rava made a pained expression, rubbing her temple as though trying to ward off a headache. “Ah, right. Sorry. I forget sometimes.” She exhaled slowly, then began explaining. “The Titans are ancient beings, massive beyond comprehension, and tied to the aetheric forces of the world. They’re as old as the land itself, if not older. There are a handful left, each representing a primal aspect—dusk, dawn, the tide, the stars, and so on. The Tempest Titan… well, she has dominion over the tempest, commands the skies and storms. I saw her once as a child, and she makes even Vivienne in her largest forms look small.”

Kivvy’s eyes widened, and her mouth opened slightly in awe. “So… we’re going to meet one of those?”

“Meet isn’t quite the word I’d use,” Rava said with a wry grin. “Approach carefully and hope not to die is more accurate.”

“Lovely. Sounds like a fun trip,” Kivvy muttered sarcastically, though the twinkle of excitement in her eyes betrayed her true feelings. She was always up for a challenge, even if she didn’t always show it. “Why are we going there?”

Rava leaned back, the weight of the mission settling over her as she exhaled slowly. “Because the Dawn Titan has allied herself with Sovereignty,” she began, her tone serious. “And only a full-fledged champion—or another Titan—could fight against her. The former can barely stand a chance, and frankly, only my mother or the champion of Nyrathys would have a hope of defeating Sovereignty.”

Kivvy’s brows furrowed in confusion. “Why those two?”

Rava’s eyes glinted with a touch of reverence as she answered. “Because of all the champions, they are the most powerful. The closest in power to the Titans themselves. Not to say the other champions are weak, but my mother and the Champion of Nyrathys have lived the longest and have faced battles that would break lesser beings. They’ve been forged in fire over centuries. With age comes experience.”

“Huh. So we’re asking for help?” Kivvy raised an eyebrow, the tone in her voice more curious than anything.

“Yes,” Rava replied with a firmness that spoke to her resolve. “We’re going to need a little more than we can manage ourselves, especially since we're heading into unfamiliar territory. Prepare yourself. This could get messy.”

Kivvy groaned, slumping her shoulders dramatically as she cast a glance at the open workshop around them. “Ugh, more cold... and not the fun kind.”

“The sooner you get me that list, the better.” Rava’s voice was unbothered, the urgency in her words cutting through Kivvy's complaints.

Kivvy snapped to attention, a playful grin tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Sure thing, capn’!” she responded, her voice rising with mock enthusiasm as she grabbed a few papers off the cluttered workbench, already plotting out what she’d need to gather to make Vivienne’s idea come to reality.

Vivienne pushed open the door to Ardyn's store, the bell above it giving a soft chime. The scent of incense and polished wood filled the air as she stepped inside, finding Ardyn arranging a display of finely crafted trinkets and jewelry. Their long, flowing hair swayed with each movement, and their graceful hands seemed to dance across the items as if each piece were a delicate treasure.

“Ah, Vivienne. Good to see you,” Ardyn said, looking up with a welcoming smile. Their eyes held a soft gleam of recognition, as though they'd been expecting this visit.

Vivienne nodded, her posture relaxed but purposeful as she made her way further into the shop. The place had become a bit of a haven for her, not just for its goods, but because Ardyn was a familiar face amidst the city’s more chaotic or unsavory elements.

“I wanted to check in on progress,” Vivienne said, her tone neutral, but with the subtle weight of expectation underneath.

Ardyn's expression shifted, a flicker of intrigue in their eyes. They set down the necklace they’d been holding and stepped closer to Vivienne. "I said it would take me a week to fix her enchantments, but I was wrong. The sheer complexity of the enchantments that make her are… fascinating. So much so that I neglected much of my other work just to study them."

Vivienne couldn’t help but smirk. Ah, a crafter’s hyperfocus. I know that feeling.

"And what did you find within Renzia?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

Ardyn’s eyes went wide, a gleam of delight flashing across their face. "You would not believe what I’ve found, darling," they said, their voice dropping to an almost reverent tone. "It’s unlike anything I’ve ever come across. These enchantments are layered in ways that defy the typical laws of magical binding. There’s something... alive about her. Not just the charm or the energy, but the way her enchantments respond. She’s almost sentient in a way."

Vivienne tilted her head, intrigued. "Sentient? How do you mean?"

Ardyn’s hands waved in the air, trying to capture the complexity of what they were saying. "It’s as though there’s a subtle consciousness tied to the enchantments, a fragment of awareness embedded in the way the magic operates. At first, I thought it was just a simple binding, but the deeper I got, the clearer it became: these enchantments aren't just active—they react to stimuli, to emotion, to pressure. It’s like she’s… learning."

Vivienne paused, her lips curving into a sly smile. "I already knew that. She is almost like a small child in personality, has been since we found her."

Ardyn grinned, clearly enjoying the moment. "You are misunderstanding," they said, their voice low with excitement. "A golem or similar automaton can learn, improve its tasks over time, but in the end, they’re not people. Renzia, however, is a person—or at least part of one—wrapped in dozens of aether formations, bound in a way I’ve never seen before."

Vivienne frowned, the weight of the implications sinking in. A person? Her thoughts raced, considering what this could mean. "So someone essentially trapped a soul in there? Or... rather, part of one?"

Ardyn's grin widened, their eyes gleaming with an unsettling light. "Indeed," they nodded, their voice nearly a whisper. "And it's been like this for a long time. From what I can tell, the soul has been trapped in this form for at least a thousand years, likely before the Sundering."

Vivienne felt a chill run through her as the enormity of Ardyn's words settled over her. A thousand years. That meant Renzia's soul—fragmented, perhaps, but still conscious—had been bound within this construct for centuries, a silent prisoner within the complex web of aetheric magic.

"Before the Sundering…" Vivienne repeated, her mind trying to piece together the significance of that. The Sundering was an event that shook the very foundations of the world—an ancient calamity that divided nations, shattered realms, and left scars in the world’s history. To think that something like this had been hidden away since then was disturbing. "That’s... ancient. Who would do something like that?"

Ardyn’s expression darkened for a moment, the manic energy slipping from their voice, replaced by a flicker of something more somber, something closer to caution. "The questions, my dear, are many. And some of them I’m almost afraid to find the answers for." Their eyes shifted away momentarily, as if the weight of their own thoughts were too heavy to bear.

Vivienne, unfazed by the shift in Ardyn’s mood, tapped thoughtfully at her side, her brow furrowing in contemplation. "So where does that leave her?" she asked, her voice low but steady. "Were you able to help her at all?"

Ardyn met Vivienne’s gaze, their lips curling into a small, sardonic smile, the flicker of amusement in their eyes a stark contrast to the somber conversation. "Oh, I've made some progress," they said, their tone smooth and laced with a hint of pride. "But not enough. Not without tearing everything down and rebuilding it from the ground up."

Vivienne’s expression tightened, her eyes narrowing slightly as the weight of their words sank in. "Rebuilding her? You're talking about remaking her whole being. That’s... dangerous."

Ardyn's smile widened, but there was no warmth in it, only a cold knowing. "In some ways, yes. It would wipe away everything she is now—her memories, her personality—leaving her a blank slate."

Vivienne exhaled sharply, a flicker of discomfort crossing her features as the implications settled in. "No. I don’t want to do that to her." Her voice softened, a touch of weariness creeping in as she sighed. "May I see her now?"

Ardyn’s eyes glinted with a mix of curiosity and something else—perhaps a touch of amusement. "Of course, darling," they said with a slight tilt of their head. 

Ardyn led her through a winding corridor at the back of the shop, each step feeling heavier as Vivienne drew closer to the room where Renzia was kept. The door creaked open with an eerie calm, revealing the figure of the mannequin-like construct. Renzia was laying down on a table, with several instruments that vivienne couldn’t even guess the nature of. Her head snapped to Vivienne.

“Miss-tress,” Renzia said, her voice carrying that distinct, disjointed cadence. Her speech was still fragmented, but noticeably smoother than before. Each word came with less strain, though it was clear she was still relearning how to form them.

Vivienne stepped closer, the weight in her chest easing slightly at hearing her speak again. “Hello, sweetheart,” she murmured, her voice soft and familiar. “I’ve come to collect you.”

With a creak of her joints, Renzia sat herself up. The sound was unnervingly mechanical, though there was an odd grace in the way she moved—like a marionette learning how to guide its own strings. Her head tilted slightly as she regarded Vivienne, eyes glowing faintly with aetheric energy. “We lea-ve now? Mistress w-wants me again?”

Vivienne’s lips curved into a gentle, almost sad smile. “I never wanted to be rid of you, Renzia. There were just… things inside you that needed fixing. How are you feeling?”

Renzia shifted off the table, her limbs moving with stiff precision. But as soon as her feet hit the ground, she faltered. For a moment, she lost balance, her form crumpling into a tangle of awkward limbs on the floor.

Vivienne moved as if to help, but Renzia was already pushing herself up, her canvas-covered hands gripping the edge of the table for support. She rose back to her feet with mechanical determination, her movements jerky but resolute. "I f-feel go-ood," she said, pausing slightly between syllables. "Thinking-ing is clearer no-w."

Vivienne’s gaze lingered on Renzia, taking in every detail—the slight tremor in her limbs as she stood, the stiffness in her movements gradually giving way to something more fluid. Progress, yes, but imperfect. It was difficult to ignore the fragility that still clung to the construct’s form, the delicate balance she fought to maintain with every step. Even so, Vivienne noted the faint spark of something more—determination, perhaps, or awareness—a sign that Renzia was beginning to reclaim herself.

“Good,” Vivienne murmured, her voice warm, though tinged with an undercurrent of concern. She reached out, resting a hand lightly on Renzia’s arm, her claws brushing gently against the canvas-like surface. “That’s good, sweetheart. Let’s get you out of here, then. You’ll feel even better once you’re home.”

Renzia gave a stiff nod, her movements slightly more measured now, as though she were becoming accustomed to her own body once more. There was no hesitation in her steps as she followed Vivienne toward the front of the store, the faint hum of aether resonating softly from within her.

Vivienne approached Ardyn, who was already waiting by the counter, their expression a mixture of satisfaction and curiosity. “You’ve done well,” Vivienne said simply, pulling out a small pouch of coins. The Siren’s eyes gleamed with amusement as they accepted the payment, offering a playful bow in return.

“Always a pleasure working with you, darling,” Ardyn said smoothly. “Do bring her back if you need more work done—or if you find anything else… curious.”

Vivienne offered a nod but said nothing further.