Mother of Midnight

Chapter 154 – The Calm

The next morning, Rava woke with a stir and a shout. She bolted upright, heart racing as Kivvy’s voice rang out again. “Something’s coming!”

Blinking the sleep from her eyes, Rava grabbed her gauntlets, the cold metal biting into her fingers as she secured them in place. She slipped out of her tent into the sharp chill of the late autumn morning, her breath puffing into the air in soft clouds. Frost clung to the grass and wagon wheels, shimmering faintly in the pale light of dawn.

She rushed to the wagon where Kivvy was perched atop, her eyes narrowed, her newly crafted weapon—an intricate, aether-infused crossbow-like device bristling with whirring mechanisms—held steady, aimed toward the distant horizon. The goblin’s entire body was tense, her green skin pale from the cold and the tension coiled in her limbs.

“What do you see?” Rava asked, stepping up beside her, fists clenched and ready.

“Big,” Kivvy muttered, her voice strained. “Something real big. It’s moving fast, and it’s coming right at us.”

Rava scanned the horizon, eyes narrowing as she focused on a dark shape approaching rapidly across the frost-bitten steppes. The figure was massive, though familiar to Rava. The wolf they had first fought when they met those weary travellers in Aegis Territory. The one that Vivienne had made smaller to pull their cart. 

As the figure drew closer, details became clearer. The creature was shrouded in shadows, its massive frame outlined against the rising sun. Thick, black fur coated its body, glistening faintly with streaks of crimson, as if freshly stained. Its elongated limbs ended in powerful claws that dug into the earth with each step, sending faint tremors through the frozen ground. 

“Wait,” Rava breathed, her pulse quickening. “That’s… Vivienne.”

Kivvy lowered her weapon slightly but didn’t relax entirely. “She looks… bigger,” she muttered, her voice wary.

Vivienne’s quintet of glowing eyes burned with a feral light, scanning the camp with a predatory intensity. Her powerful jaws were clamped around the neck of a creature that dangled lifelessly from her maw. 

A thornback.

Vivienne stopped just short of the camp’s warded boundary, her massive paws crushing the frost-coated grass beneath them. Her breath came in heavy, steady puffs of mist, curling around her bloodstained muzzle. She didn’t move for several heartbeats, standing perfectly still except for the faint rise and fall of her massive form. Her eyes locked on Rava and Kivvy, glowing with an intensity that sent a shiver down Rava’s spine.

The growl came low and deep, rumbling from Vivienne’s chest like distant thunder. It wasn’t a sound meant to threaten, but it carried weight—a primal, animalistic warning not to approach too quickly. Slowly, she opened her jaws, and the thornback’s limp body fell to the ground with a dull thud, the frost beneath it stained dark with its blood.

Rava swallowed, forcing herself to stay calm. “Viv? You with us?” she asked quietly, stepping forward cautiously, her gauntleted hands raised slightly in a gesture of peace.

Vivienne didn’t respond immediately. Her eyes flicked from Rava to Kivvy, then back again, as if weighing them, judging whether they were prey or not. The wind stirred her fur, carrying with it the metallic scent of blood and the faint, earthy tang of her prey’s corpse.

After a tense moment, Vivienne’s massive form began to shift. Bones cracked and popped, muscle and sinew contorting as her body shrank, her fur receding into dark grey skin. Within moments, she was back in her humanoid form, still barefoot and smeared with blood, her long tail flicking once behind her before stilling.

“I brought breakfast,” she said simply, her voice calm but laced with an edge of lingering wildness. Her black lips curled slightly, revealing sharp teeth still stained with crimson. “Eat before it gets cold.”

Kivvy let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, lowering her weapon completely. “You know, for someone who can eat literally anything, you sure have a taste for the dramatic,” she muttered, hopping down from the wagon.

Rava shot Kivvy a look before turning her attention back to Vivienne. “Are you okay?”

Vivienne’s quintet of eyes blinked slowly, the feral glow fading, replaced by something more familiar. “Fine now,” she said, her voice softening. “Hunger’s sated.” She glanced down at the thornhart, nudging it slightly with her foot. “We should cook it before scavengers catch the scent.”

Rava gave a nod, finally allowing herself to relax. Whatever wild edge had gripped Vivienne through the night was gone, leaving only her enigmatic, unpredictable friend standing barefoot in the morning frost. "Yeah... let's get it cooking."

Wanting to cover as much ground as possible that day, Rava wasted no time. She dismantled the ward with practiced efficiency, her breath curling in the cold morning air as she worked. Meanwhile, Kivvy fetched her tools and began assisting with the thornhart, its strange bark-like hide crackling faintly as they peeled it away to expose the rich meat beneath. Vivienne, now cleaned up and calm, crouched nearby, her black eyes watching quietly, tail flicking lazily behind her. She didn’t speak much, though her presence was palpable, a silent sentinel keeping watch while the others prepared for the road ahead.

Despite its peculiar appearance, the thornhart’s meat was dense and rich, with an earthy scent that reminded Rava faintly of smoked wood. They bled and skinned it quickly, the cold air helping to preserve the cuts for travel. The meat would keep until evening, at least—longer if they were lucky. In the freezing temperatures, spoilage wasn’t much of a concern. Kivvy grumbled about her fingers going numb, but she worked deftly, packing up the usable portions of meat while Rava handled the camp’s teardown.

A quick meal was cooked over the remnants of the fire—a simple fare of roasted thornhart strips, savory and filling. It wasn’t fancy, but it was warm, and that was enough. They ate in silence, the cold morning air pressing in around them, and by the time the sun had fully crested the horizon, they were packed up and ready to leave.

Their journey northward resumed, the wagon creaking softly as it rolled over frost-hardened earth. The steppes stretched endlessly around them, a vast expanse of windswept plains and sparse, dry grass coated in frost. The air was biting, a constant reminder that winter was tightening its grip.

The edge Vivienne had carried at the beginning of the journey gradually faded with each passing night. By the third night, she resumed taking the night watch, which was a welcome relief for Rava and Kivvy, both of whom needed proper rest to stay sharp. Though Vivienne didn’t need sleep the same way they did, there was a marked difference in her demeanor when the hunger no longer gnawed at her mind. The cold didn’t bother her either, though Kivvy had pointed out more than once that it was downright unsettling to see her padding barefoot through the frost, unbothered by the chill.

So the days passed, their journey a blend of long hours of travel and short, efficient breaks to rest and eat. The steppes gradually gave way to rougher, more inhospitable terrain. The wind picked up, biting harder, carrying with it the scent of distant snow. On the fifth day, the landscape began to change noticeably—the grass became sparser, patches of hard, frozen soil and jagged rock becoming more common. The northern wastes loomed in the distance, a stark, desolate horizon of ice and stone.

By the sixth day, they could see the wastes clearly ahead, a foreboding expanse where the world seemed to lose its color. Snow drifted in lazy flurries around them, the cold sharp enough to bite through even the thickest clothing. Kivvy wrapped herself tighter in her heavy coat, muttering complaints under her breath about how goblins weren’t meant for this kind of weather. Rava grinned at her grumbling but pulled her own cloak tighter just the same. The cold was no joke.

Vivienne, in her massive wolf form, trudged through the snow ahead of the wagon, her thick obsidian-scaled hide and dark fur offering complete immunity to the biting wind. Her claws crunched into the frozen ground with each step, leaving deep imprints in the frostbitten earth. Despite the weight of the wagon hitched to her, she moved effortlessly, her pace steady and tireless, as if the cold and the burden were of no consequence.

The fire crackled weakly in the biting wind, struggling against the cold as much as Kivvy was. She huddled so close that wisps of her hair occasionally singed, but she didn’t seem to care. Teeth chattering, she threw an incredulous look at Rava. “So, we’re here in this awful place, looking for a god to ask if she’ll help us? Do you even know where we’re going, or are we just wandering around waiting to freeze to death?”

Rava sat cross-legged across from her, calm despite the cold, her gauntlets resting on her lap. She stirred the fire lazily with a stick, sending up a few defiant sparks. “She’s got a few sleeping spots scattered around. We’ll know when we’re getting close.”

“Great,” Kivvy muttered, shivering and glaring into the fire as if it were to blame for her misery. “So we’re gonna spend the next few days tromping around in waist-deep snow trying to find a giant who naps wherever she pleases. Fantastic.”

Rava’s lips quirked into a knowing smirk. “She is the Tempest Giant. What do you think we’re looking for?”

Kivvy shot her a skeptical glance. “I don’t know, storms?”

Before Rava could answer, Vivienne, still in her wolf form, silently padded up behind Kivvy and tapped her lightly on the shoulder with a large, clawed paw. The goblin flinched, spinning around in alarm, but Vivienne merely pointed with her snout toward the northwest horizon.

There, towering above the endless expanse of the frozen wasteland, a colossal storm churned and twisted. Dark clouds swirled in an ever-raging spiral, pierced by jagged bolts of lightning that illuminated the frozen plains in erratic flashes. Even from this distance, the storm seemed alive, thrumming with a power that made the air hum faintly around them.

Vivienne’s wolfish form loomed over the fire, her shadow flickering across the snow as she spoke in a low, rumbling voice. “I am going to guess that is where we are headed, sweetheart.”

Kivvy squinted into the distance, her sharp eyes narrowing against the glare of snow and ice. The storm far ahead looked less like a simple weather front and more like a living force, swirling with unnatural fury. Tendrils of lightning snaked through the dense black clouds, striking the ground below with violent intensity.

“Oh… well… yeah, that’s pretty obvious now,” Kivvy muttered, pulling her cloak tighter around her. “Still doesn’t make me any happier about it.”

“I told you, she’s not exactly the ‘welcome you with a smile’ type,” Rava added, poking at the fire with a stick to keep it going. The wind howled around their small camp, the flames flickering but holding steady thanks to Vivienne’s clever positioning of rocks to shield it.

Vivienne, still in her wolf form, rested nearby, her massive frame curled slightly to block out the worst of the wind for her companions. Her eyes glinted darkly as she watched the storm. 

Kivvy sighed dramatically, flopping back onto the packed snow. “Great. Are heading straight into a giant storm to meet a giant god. What could possibly go wrong?”

“She isn’t a god. She’s somewhere between the hands of the gods and the gods themselves. The first of the first, created by Gorvahra when she made the earth below us.” Rava’s tone was matter-of-fact, as though explaining something as simple as a concept, though there was a certain reverence in the air.

Kivvy scowled, wrapping her arms tighter around herself as she huddled close to the fire. “So, we’re going to meet a giant storm to ask help from a giant not-god? Perfect. Just perfect.” Her voice was dripping with sarcasm.

Rava gave a small sigh, unbothered by the goblin’s tone. “It’s not quite like that, Kivvy. But yes, that’s basically the gist of it.”

Vivienne’s sharp eyes flicked between Rava and Kivvy, before focusing on Rava as she spoke again, more seriously. “So, what’s the plan? Korriva told me to get her to our side, but gave me barely any details. She said you’d know what to do.”

Rava nodded slowly, tapping a finger against her chin as she thought. “I do, to an extent. My mother, she helped the tempest giant with a task a while ago. In return, she was granted a single favour. But there might be some difficulties.”

Vivienne tilted her head slightly. “Are we going to have to fight her?”

Rava shook her head, her lips curling into a subtle smile, though there was a trace of tension behind it. “Unlikely. She’s… well, she spends most of her time sleeping. Likes to nap more than anything. But waking her up? That’s where it gets tricky. She doesn’t care much for what happens outside her storms. Convincing her to move, let alone do us a favor, will take some doing.”

Vivienne tilted her head thoughtfully, her quintet of eyes gleaming with faint amusement. “I see. Well, sweethearts, I’m sure we’ll succeed, one way or another. If needed, I’ll lay down some of my immeasurable charm. Giants are fond of charm, right?”

Kivvy snorted, hiding a grin beneath her scarf. “Sure, charm her right out of her century-long nap.”

Vivienne shrugged, unconcerned. “Worked before. You’d be surprised how persuadable someone becomes when they get a taste of my… flair.”

Rava ignored the banter, her gaze sharpening as she looked out across the vast expanse of white. The wind whispered through the frozen plain, carrying an eerie stillness that made even breathing feel heavier. “In the meantime, yes, there’s something we need to watch for in the wastes. There are far fewer aetherbeasts out here, but the ones that do roam are far more dangerous. They tend to be bigger, stronger, and meaner. I’d rather avoid them altogether if possible.”

Vivienne smirked, her claws tapping lightly against her thigh. “We aren’t exactly inconspicuous. A giant lekine, noisy goblins, and whatever you want to call me—pretty sure any beast worth its fangs will find us without much trouble.”

“Right, so maybe don’t invite them over with your charm,” muttered Kivvy, tightening her scarf around her face as the wind picked up.

“Maybe so,” Rava admitted, glancing toward Vivienne’s towering form, “but I’d prefer to avoid anything out here if we can. Even with you, it’s not something I want to gamble on.”

Vivienne’s ears flicked slightly at Rava’s words, the only sign she gave that she was paying attention. Though she remained still, stretched out on the frozen ground with her thick fur and obsidian scales shielding her from the biting wind, her keen senses never stopped scanning the surroundings. She was perfectly at ease in the cold, unaffected by the freezing air that would have chilled most to the bone. Still, she understood Rava’s caution. The wastes were a brutal, unpredictable place where survival meant never letting your guard down.

“Well, if something comes sniffing around, I’ll handle it,” Vivienne murmured, her voice low and resonant, like the distant echo of a storm. The confidence in her tone was absolute—unshakable—but there was no arrogance behind it, only the calm assurance of a predator who knew her strength.

Rava gave a faint sigh, folding her arms as she stared into the fire. “Also, while I don’t like the idea of not setting a ward up, it’s mostly pointless here. If something’s coming, we’ll know when it’s already too close.” She shot Vivienne a look, her expression halfway between concern and trust. “I know you’re strong, gods know I do, but please wake us all up if something comes.”

Vivienne’s eyes gleamed faintly in the firelight as she opened her mouth, ready with a quip, but something about Rava’s steady gaze stilled her. For a moment, she simply watched her companion, then exhaled a soft breath that sent a puff of steam rising into the frigid air. She lowered her head, resting it atop her massive paws with an air of reluctant acceptance. “Well since you asked so nicely.”

Rava’s lips twitched into a brief, approving smile. “Good. You’d wake us up with any battle anyway. This way, we might have a bit more time to get ready.”

The fire crackled softly between them, casting long shadows over the snow and ice. Vivienne’s breathing slowed, deep and even, but there was no mistaking the readiness coiled beneath her seemingly relaxed exterior. Even in repose, her sharp senses remained alert, tuned to the slightest hint of danger.

Kivvy, still huddled close to the fire, glanced up from beneath her fur-lined hood. “Yeah, yeah, just don’t let anything eat me in my sleep.”

Vivienne let out a low, rumbling growl, though not one of warning, but something closer to amusement. “Sweetheart, if anything tries, I promise you’ll wake up before it even gets a taste.”

Kivvy rolled her eyes, pulling her cloak tighter around herself as she muttered something about how sleeping in the wastes was asking for trouble but Vivienne caught that faint blush. Rava gave her a sidelong glance but said nothing, letting the goblin’s muttering fade into the background as she kept watch with Renzia standing Vigilant nearby.

The northern wastes stretched endlessly around them, vast and bleak under the pale light of a distant moon. The wind howled across the frozen plains, carrying with it the faint scent of distant storms. Somewhere out there, beyond the horizon, lay the tempest giant they sought, slumbering beneath her eternal maelstrom.

For now, though, all they could do was wait, endure the cold, and keep moving forward—one wary step at a time.