Mother of Midnight

Chapter 159 – Where the Children Should Not Roam

Rava stifled a yawn as she rubbed her eyes, her usual sharp energy dulled. Despite her insistence otherwise, it was obvious she was feeling the effects of the previous night. “I told you, Vivienne. I’m fine. Just a little sleepy,” she muttered, leaning against the side of the wagon as Kivvy handed her a steaming cup of something bitter-smelling.

Vivienne crouched beside her, her wolfish form towering but her voice calm. “You might be fine, Rava, but a little extra boost wouldn’t hurt. Just hold still for a moment.”

Rava sighed, resigned. “Fine. If it’ll get you off my back.”.

Vivienne bumped her large head against Rava and held it there and for a moment, the air between them shimmered faintly, like heat waves rising off stone. The ambient aether in the area rippled as Vivienne drew it in and directed it toward Rava, who straightened slightly as the energy settled into her. Her ears perked, and her tail gave a single flick of renewed life.

“That... actually helped,” Rava admitted, rolling her shoulders as she tested her limbs. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it. And try not to overdo it.” Vivienne’s voice was firm but not unkind as she stepped back and shifted her attention to the wagon.

Kivvy had already packed most of their supplies, her small hands moving quickly and efficiently. “Everything’s ready! Just need the star of the show to get hitched up, and we’re good to go,” the goblin announced, gesturing toward Vivienne.

Vivienne let out a low, amused growl as she moved into position. “I don’t know why you enjoy this part so much, Kivvy.”

“Because it’s funny seeing someone as scary as you doing something as boring as pulling a wagon,” Kivvy replied with a mischievous grin.

Once Vivienne was hitched and ready, Liora hesitated at the side of the wagon. She had since been given a set of spare clothing from Kivvy, who was the closest in size to her. Her dark eyes darted between the fur-covered harness and Vivienne’s massive frame. “Can I... Can I touch your fur?” she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Vivienne paused, her large ears swiveling toward the girl. She tilted her massive, lupine head, the glow of her black eyes softening. “Of course, sweetheart. Come here.”

Liora took a hesitant step forward, her small hand reaching out. When her fingers made contact with the thick, obsidian-black fur, her expression shifted to one of wonder. “It’s so soft,” she murmured, stroking the fur gently.

Vivienne chuckled, a deep rumble in her chest. “Glad you think so. Most people are too busy running away to notice.”

Liora looked up at her, her hand still buried in the warm fur. “I don’t think you’re scary.”

Vivienne let out a low, amused huff. “You’re braver than most, then.”

With a final gentle pat, Liora climbed into the wagon with Kivvy’s help, settling in beside Rava. The girl kept glancing at Vivienne, her curiosity clear. Vivienne, for her part, found herself occasionally watching the girl as they began their journey again, wondering how such a small, fragile thing could feel so at ease in the presence of something so monstrous.

As the wagon creaked into motion, pulled effortlessly by Vivienne’s powerful strides, the cold air was filled with the quiet clatter of wheels on frozen ground and the faint hum of Liora’s whispered questions to Kivvy about the goblins, the world and little things like favourite foods. Vivienne listened with half an ear, her focus on the road ahead, but a small smile tugged at the corners of her sharp maw.

“Is that… a camp?” Kivvy asked, leaning forward on the wagon bench beside Rava. She squinted against the distance, trying to make out the flicker of firelight amidst the snowy expanse. Smoke curled upward in thin, ghostly tendrils, a sure sign of life.

Rava’s sharp gaze followed Kivvy’s pointing finger. “Looks like it,” she muttered, her tone wary.

“I do taste aether,” Vivienne chimed in, her voice carrying an eerie calm as she pulled the wagon with effortless strides. Her monstrous form seemed at odds with the casual lilt in her tone. “Fear-laced. Delightfully scrumptious.” Her tongue flicked out briefly, as though savoring the air itself.

Rava shot a glance toward Vivienne, her brow furrowing. “I’d prefer to avoid others while we’re on this mission,” she said, her voice firm, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Vivienne’s mouth twitched into a slight smirk, the hint of amusement playing on her lips. “Sweetheart, avoiding trouble is rarely as simple as we hope. Especially with me around.” Her tail swayed lazily behind her, cutting faint lines into the snow as she continued pulling the wagon.

Renzia’s voice interrupted, its cadence halting but certain. “Th-ey a-re coming he-re,” she said, her head tilting slightly as though following a sound only she could hear.

All eyes turned in unison, and sure enough, a group of figures emerged from the haze of snow and wind, moving steadily toward them. At least six people, maybe more. Their shapes were blurred by the shifting snowfall, but the purposeful way they trudged forward suggested intent.

“Fantastic,” Kivvy muttered, her small hand moving to the rifle strapped to her back. “Guess we’re not avoiding anything today.”

“Stay on guard,” Rava commanded sharply, her voice cutting through the muted howling of the wind. She jumped down from the wagon bench, her boots crunching into the snow as she planted herself firmly between the approaching figures and their group. Her posture was tense but controlled, a coiled spring ready to act. “Kivvy, Renzia, stay in the back with Liora.”

Renzia tilted her head slightly, her movements unnervingly fluid yet deliberate. “Do-es Miss-tress wish me to?” she asked, her hollow voice carrying a mechanical quality.

Vivienne’s lips curved into a small, reassuring smile as she glanced over her shoulder. “Sweetheart, if Rava gives an order, you can assume I’m fine with it. I trust her judgment,” she said, her tone soft but firm, her words cutting through the wind with calm certainty.

“Yes, Miss-tress,” Renzia replied, her voice halting but compliant, then hid in the back of the wagon..

Vivienne stopped in her tracks, the wagon creaking to a halt behind her. Her eyes, black and fathomless, locked onto the approaching group. She sniffed the air, her expression turning contemplative. “They reek of desperation,” she said, her voice dropping an octave. “And something… something familiar. Aether-tainted, but faint. They’re not ordinary travelers.”

The figures came closer, their forms solidifying in the snowy gloom. Their clothing was tattered, mismatched layers of fur and cloth wrapped tightly against the cold. They carried weapons—mostly crude, hastily repaired swords and axes—but their hands trembled as if they barely had the strength to hold them.

One of them, a man with a gaunt face and hollow eyes, stepped forward. His breath came out in heavy clouds, and his voice was hoarse when he called out. “Please… we mean no harm! We just need help!”

Rava didn’t relax, her fists clenching at her sides. “Help with what?”

“Our camp…” the man began, his words faltering as he struggled to explain. “It was attacked by a giant aetherbeast. We barely fended it off. Please, we have wounded.”

“I’m no exomancer, so I can’t use aether to heal,” Rava said, her voice sharp but even. “We have some salves, but don’t count on them for much.”

The man nodded quickly, his gaunt face etched with desperation. “Anything would help,” he said, his breath fogging in the icy air. “Please, our people—there are children among us.”

Rava’s eyes narrowed. “Children? In the wastes?” Her tone hardened, suspicion lacing every word. “What kind of fool brings kids out here?”

The man flinched at her question, his eyes darting away. “We didn’t have a choice,” he muttered. “Our village was burned down. We’ve been moving ever since.”

Rava crossed her arms, her expression unyielding. “Convenient story. Where’s this village?”

He hesitated, his hands wringing together. “Far to the east, near the base of the mountains. It… it was wiped out weeks ago.”

Rava’s gaze didn’t waver. “By what?”

“A raiding party,” he said quickly, too quickly. “Bandits, or… maybe something worse. We didn’t stick around to find out.”

Behind her, Kivvy leaned closer to Rava, her voice low. “That’s suspicious, right? I mean, dragging kids all the way out here?”

“Very,” Rava muttered. She turned back to the man, her stance radiating tension. “So you decided the frozen wastes were safer? You didn’t think to head south, toward settlements?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it again, his jaw working as he struggled for an answer. “We thought—”

“You thought you’d stumble across help?” Rava interrupted, her voice cutting like a blade. “Or did you think the emptiness of the wastes would make it easier to hide?”

The man paled, his breath hitching. “Please,” he stammered. “We’re just trying to survive. That’s all.”

Rava stared him down for a long moment, her sharp eyes searching his face. Then she huffed, her breath curling in the cold air. “Kivvy, grab the salves. I’ll handle this.”

Kivvy hesitated. “You sure about this? Feels off.”

“Very,” Rava admitted, her voice low. “But if they’re lying, we’ll find out soon enough.”

Reluctantly, Kivvy turned and rummaged through the supplies in the wagon, pulling out a small satchel. Rava, meanwhile, stepped closer to the man, her gaze never leaving him. “Take me to your camp. Let me see these children.”

The man nodded quickly, relief flickering across his face. “Of course,” he said, gesturing for them to follow.

Vivienne remained still, watching silently as the interaction unfolded. Her tail swayed slowly, carving faint lines in the snow behind her. Her black eyes followed the group as they trudged forward, her expression unreadable.

The camp soon came into view—a sorry sight of collapsed tents and sputtering fires. People huddled close to the dwindling flames, their faces gaunt and their bodies bundled in mismatched layers. A few were laid out on crude cots, their injuries evident in the bloodied bandages that clung to their flesh. A group of children sat near one of the fires, their thin frames wrapped in threadbare blankets, eyes wide and fearful. Those expressions deepened when they saw Vivienne pulling the wagon.

Rava frowned, her sharp gaze darting between the figures. “These kids look half-starved,” she muttered under her breath to Kivvy, who had caught up beside her. “And those wounds… they’ve been festering for a while.”

Kivvy tightened her grip on her rifle. “Doesn’t mean they’re innocent.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Rava agreed grimly. She turned to the man who had led them. “Start talking. What happened here?”

He gestured weakly at the camp. “An aetherbeast attacked us two nights ago,” he said, his voice cracking. “It tore through everything. We managed to drive it off, but it left us like this. Please… we need help.”

Rava’s eyes narrowed. “And you thought dragging these children out here was your best option? Where’s this beast now?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted, his voice trembling. “It disappeared into the storm. We haven’t seen it since.”

Rava’s frown deepened, her suspicions unshaken. She turned back to the wagon, glancing at Vivienne. “Keep watch,” she ordered, then faced the man again. “Show me your supplies. All of them.”

The man hesitated, his nervous gaze flicking to his companions. “Why?”

“Because,” Rava said coldly, “if you’re hiding something, now’s the time to come clean. Otherwise, I’ll find it myself.”

The man’s face tightened, his hollow eyes darting between Rava and Vivienne, whose silent, looming presence seemed to weigh on him. “W-we’re not hiding anything!” he stammered. “We barely have enough to survive!”

“Then you won’t mind proving it,” Rava said firmly, crossing her arms. “Kivvy, stay here. Renzia, with me.”

Kivvy nodded, her hand resting on her rifle, ready for anything. Renzia stepped forward, her movements unnervingly smooth, her wooden joints creaking faintly in the cold air. “I o-bey,” she said, her canvas-bound head tilting slightly toward Rava.

The man swallowed hard, his fear evident, but he reluctantly led them to a nearby tent, its tattered fabric flapping in the biting wind. Inside was a small collection of supplies—a few bundles of dried meat, cracked jars of water, and a scattering of other items. Rava’s sharp eyes scanned the meager provisions, her expression hard to read.

“This isn’t much,” she said, crouching to inspect a jar. She opened it, sniffing its contents before setting it down. “Barely enough for a group your size, let alone children.”

“It’s all we have,” the man insisted, his voice trembling. “We’ve been rationing.”

Rava straightened, her gaze piercing. “And yet, those children out there look like they haven’t eaten in days. What have you been rationing? Stories?”

The man flinched as if struck, his shoulders hunching. “We— We give them what we can,” he stammered. “It’s not enough, I know, but—”

“Enough excuses,” Rava interrupted. She stepped closer, her presence towering despite her lack of height compared to him. “Here’s the deal: you get honesty, or you get nothing. Tell me the truth. Why are you really out here?”

The man’s lips parted, but no sound came. He glanced nervously toward the rest of the camp, his fear palpable. Behind Rava, Renzia tilted her head, her hollow voice cutting through the tense silence. “He is… a-fraid. Of some-thing. Not jus-t us.”

Rava turned her head slightly toward Renzia but kept her eyes locked on the man. “What’s out there that scares you more than us?” she asked, her voice low and cold.

The man’s knees nearly buckled, his hands clutching at the edges of his ragged coat. “It’s not just the aetherbeast,” he whispered finally, his voice barely audible over the wind. “There’s… there’s someone else. Someone hunting us.”

Rava’s jaw tightened, and her fists clenched. “Who?”

The man shook his head, his terror overwhelming him. “I don’t know! We never see them, but they leave signs—marks in the snow, carved symbols on trees. They’re toying with us, pushing us further into the wastes.”

Rava turned back toward the camp, her sharp gaze scanning the horizon. “You’re saying someone’s herding you?”

“Yes!” the man cried, desperation spilling out. “We thought if we kept moving, we could lose them. But they always find us.”

Renzia’s head jerked upward suddenly, her hollow voice cutting through the air. “They… are near.”

Rava whipped around, her muscles coiling as she reached for her gauntlets. “How near?”

“Very,” Renzia replied, her voice monotone but urgent. “They… watch.”

Rava glanced toward Vivienne, who remained motionless beside the wagon. The monstrous woman’s gaze was fixed on the distant horizon, her tail swaying slowly as if sensing unseen currents in the air. “Vivienne,” Rava called, her voice sharp. “Do you see anything?”

Vivienne’s black eyes narrowed slightly, but she didn’t answer. Instead, she tilted her head as if listening to something only she could hear. A low growl rumbled in her throat, almost imperceptible but enough to make Rava’s skin prickle.

Kivvy’s voice cut through the tension. “Uh, guys? We’ve got movement!”

All eyes turned as shadows began to shift in the swirling snow, figures emerging slowly from the storm. These were no ragged survivors; their silhouettes were sharp, deliberate, and armed to the teeth.

“Looks like your hunters are here,” Rava muttered, flexing her fingers. She turned to the man, her voice cold as ice. “Get your people back. If you’re lying about anything, this is your last chance to come clean.”

The man’s face crumpled, but he didn’t argue. He stumbled back toward the camp, shouting frantic orders to the others. Meanwhile, Rava turned to her companions. “Kivvy, keep them covered. Renzia, stay with the wagon and guard Liora. Vivienne…” She paused, catching the faint glint in the monstrous woman’s dark eyes. “You’re with me.”

Vivienne’s lupine mouth curled into a faint smile, her silence finally breaking with a single, ominous word. “Delightful.”