Mother of Midnight

Chapter 166 – Wakeup Call

As dawn's first light crept into the wagon, Rava stirred, her muscles stretching instinctively, ready to rise with the sun. Vivienne, on the other hand, remained still, watching the others sleep. Her gaze lingered on Rava, her thoughts focused almost entirely on her.

There was something about her that Vivienne couldn't shake. Maybe they wouldn’t last. She couldn’t say she loved her, not yet, but she was definitely falling, hard. And it wasn’t just because Rava had caught her when she’d fallen off the castle wall the night before, though that certainly hadn’t helped matters. It was something deeper, something she couldn’t quite put into words.

Rava was strength, resilience, and unspoken tenderness. Vivienne couldn’t deny how much she was drawn to her, how Rava’s presence, even in silence, felt like a spark in a world that had grown cold. For the first time in a long while, Vivienne found herself wondering what it might feel like to let someone in again. And yet, she knew that the past would always be there, a ghost lurking in the back of her mind. But maybe, just maybe, that was okay. Maybe she could keep moving forward, not forgetting her past, but letting it fade into something more manageable, something less painful.

Within the hour, Liora woke, stretching beneath the thick blankets. She rubbed her beautiful black eyes, the slits below them opening briefly, revealing a hint of the uncanny depth that lay within. They closed again almost as quickly, but not before catching Vivienne’s attention. Liora was such an unusual little thing, full of surprises even when doing something as simple as waking up.

Kivvy, of course, was the last to stir. She let out a dramatic groan and buried her face deeper into her makeshift pillow. “You’d think someone could’ve kept the fire going,” she grumbled, glaring at the cold ashes like they’d betrayed her personally.

Vivienne snorted, perched casually on a stone bench near the dying embers. “It’s a fortress, Sweetheart, not an inn. You want hot coals, you stoke them yourself.”

“I’ll add it to my growing list of grievances,” Kivvy shot back, but the bite in her voice was dulled by sleep. She shuffled to her feet with all the enthusiasm of someone facing execution and began rummaging through her pack.

Vivienne turned her gaze toward the heavy iron bell they planned to ring today, perched in the crumbling belfry above. The absurdity of their plan wasn’t lost on her. Ring the bell, wake the Titan, and hope it’s in a good mood. A part of her wanted to laugh, but another, deeper part—the one that never truly left survival mode—reminded her just how serious this was.

Rava approached, her footsteps light on the ancient stone floor. “You’re unusually quiet this morning,” she remarked, crossing her arms. Her golden eyes flicked to Vivienne, narrowing slightly. “Something on your mind?”

Vivienne smirked, her tail swaying lazily behind her. “Just the sheer brilliance of our plan. Wake up an ancient tempest titan and ask for a favor. What could possibly go wrong?”

Rava rolled her eyes, though a faint smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “You scared?”

“What do you think?” Vivienne stood and stretched, her movements fluid despite the tension simmering beneath her surface. “Well let's get to it. I want to see this magic bell.”

The group navigated the labyrinthine halls of the fortress, their footsteps echoing softly against the cold stone walls. The once-mighty structure, now a crumbling relic of a bygone era, loomed around them with an air of quiet defiance. Dust coated every surface, and cobwebs clung to the high arches like ghostly remnants of the past.

“This place is a damn maze,” Kivvy muttered, her voice tinged with frustration as she turned yet another corner only to find another dead end. She threw her hands up. “I swear, we’ve passed this same broken pillar twice.”

Vivienne glanced at the offending structure and smirked. “You got us lost in such a small place. There can’t be more than a few dozen rooms in here.”

“Not when I’m trying to find a way to wake up a Titan,” Kivvy shot back, glaring at her. “You’re the one with all the fancy senses. Why don’t you lead?”

“I could,” Vivienne said with an exaggerated shrug, “but watching you stumble around is far more entertaining.”

Rava snorted, cutting through their banter with a pointed look. “Focus. We’re not here to play.”

Vivienne’s smirk widened. “Speak for yourself, Sweetheart.”

Despite the teasing, they pressed onward, their search painstaking. They climbed staircases that groaned under their weight, their steps sending puffs of ancient dust into the air. They passed through grand halls adorned with faded murals and long-abandoned barracks, the skeletal remains of cots and chests a reminder of the fortress's former life.

Finally, after several wrong turns and more than a little bickering, they found the tower. It stood at the far end of the fortress, its spiral staircase winding upward into the shadows. The rope for the bell hung down the center of the narrow space, its frayed fibers swaying slightly in a draft that whispered through the cracks in the stone.

Kivvy was the first to spot it. “There!” she called out, pointing with a triumphant grin. “I told you we’d find it.”

“After only three attempts,” Vivienne quipped. “Impressive.”

Rava ignored the exchange, her sharp eyes scanning the room. “Let’s just make sure everything’s secure. I don’t trust what might come out of that bell.”

Vivienne’s gaze flicked to the rope that hung tantalizingly from the bell above, an idea forming. She turned to Liora, who had been quietly following behind, her small hands brushing against the stone walls as though the fortress itself fascinated her.

“Liora,” Vivienne said, her voice softening just enough to coax the girl’s attention. “Do you want to try pulling it?”

Liora blinked, her black eyes widening slightly as she looked at the rope. “Me?” she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.

“Why not?” Vivienne crouched slightly to meet her eye level, a playful glint lighting up her face. “You’re stronger than you look, aren’t you?”

Rava raised a brow but didn’t intervene, her posture relaxing slightly. “She’ll be fine. That bell’s hung there for centuries. If anything breaks, it won’t be because of her.”

“Exactly,” Vivienne chimed in, flashing a grin. “It’s a perfect first task for our budding powerhouse.”

Liora hesitated, glancing between the rope and Vivienne. “What if I do it wrong?”

“You won’t,” Vivienne assured her, placing a gentle hand on the girl’s shoulder. “Just hold on tight and give it a good pull. I’ll be right here if you need help.”

Liora nodded, her tiny hands balling into fists for a moment before she stepped closer to the rope. She reached out hesitantly, her fingers brushing against the rough fibers. Kivvy, leaning against a nearby wall, watched with a skeptical expression but said nothing, while Rava shifted her weight, her ears flicking with subtle curiosity.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Vivienne said, her voice calm and encouraging, her smile reassuring as she gestured toward the thick, ancient rope.

Liora hesitated for a moment before nodding, her small hands reaching out to grip the coarse fibers. Her fingers tightened, knuckles whitening slightly as she tugged tentatively. The rope barely shifted, the bell above remaining stubbornly still. She frowned, her black eyes narrowing as she tightened her grip and tried again, pulling with all her might. Still, the massive bell refused to stir.

Her shoulders slumped as she turned to Vivienne, her expression crestfallen. “It’s not working,” she said, her voice tinged with disappointment.

Vivienne crouched slightly, her face warm with encouragement. “That’s fine! It’s a heavy bell—takes a lot of strength to move something like that.”

Liora glanced back at the rope, her small hands fidgeting as doubt lingered in her eyes.

Vivienne moved closer, placing her hands just above Liora’s on the rope. Her claws curled around the thick fibers with ease, their obsidian sheen catching the faint light of the room. “We’ll do it together, sweetheart,” Vivienne said, her tone light and playful. “No one said you had to do it all by yourself.”

Liora blinked up at her, a flicker of hope replacing the doubt. “You think we can?”

Vivienne grinned, her sharp teeth glinting briefly. “Oh, I know we can. And when that bell rings, it’s going to sound like a proper summoning.”

Rava leaned against the wall, her arms crossed as she observed. Though she said nothing, her ears flicked forward slightly, betraying her interest. Kivvy, meanwhile, muttered something about how "big dramatic bells" were a waste of engineering but didn’t bother to stop them.

“All right,” Vivienne said, gripping the rope firmly. “On three, okay? One… two… three!”

Together, they pulled, Vivienne’s strength guiding Liora’s effort. The rope groaned in protest, fibers creaking under the strain. Then, slowly, the bell above began to sway, its immense weight shifting. Liora’s eyes widened with wonder as the first low toll of the bell rang out, a deep, resonant sound that seemed to shake the very air around them.

The second toll followed, louder and more commanding, echoing through the fortress and into the vast expanse outside. Liora’s gasp was audible even over the reverberations, her gaze fixed on the massive bell above as though she couldn’t quite believe she’d had a hand in moving it.

“You did it!” Vivienne exclaimed, releasing the rope and stepping back, her grin radiant with pride. “I told you we could make it happen.”

Liora looked up at her, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. “We did,” she said softly, her voice filled with wonder.

“Well,” Rava said from her spot near the wall, her voice dry but with a hint of amusement, “let’s see if the Titan feels like answering.” Her ears twitched, and her tail flicked behind her in a restless rhythm, betraying the unease simmering beneath her composed exterior.

As if summoned by her words, a deep, bone-rattling tremor rolled through the fortress. The stone beneath their feet groaned in protest, and dust shook loose from the ceiling in thin streams, catching the dim light. It felt less like an earthquake and more like the building itself was trembling in anticipation, as though it were alive and eager for what was to come.

Vivienne’s sharp eyes darted to Rava, then to the others. “Move!” she barked, her usual playful tone replaced with urgency.

They scrambled from the bell tower, Kivvy clutching her satchel protectively as she muttered something about “ancient deathtraps.” Liora stayed close to Vivienne’s side, her small hand gripping the hem of her sleeve tightly. Even Renzia moved with purpose, her canvas skin rippling slightly with the vibrations.

They reached the courtyard just as another tremor surged through the ground. This time, it wasn’t just the fortress—it was the entire landscape around them. The air felt charged, buzzing faintly as though it held its breath.

The towering figure of the Titan began to stir. Its colossal form, previously indistinguishable from the jagged rocks surrounding the fortress, shifted with an almost deliberate slowness. Massive limbs, gnarled and crackling with arcs of contained lightning, emerged from the earth like a mountain coming to life.

Vailora, the Tempest Titan, slowly rouse from her ancient slumber. Her form was both awe-inspiring and terrifying—an enormous silhouette of storm-wrought power, her features obscured by swirling clouds and jagged flashes of light. The air around her shimmered, distorting like heat haze, while the sound of crackling energy filled the courtyard, deafening and relentless.

Vivienne stood at the front of the group, her dark eyes fixed on the Titan. Her lips curled into a grin, though whether it was from excitement or defiance was anyone’s guess. She glanced down at Liora, whose wide eyes reflected both fear and awe. “It looks like she heard us.”

The Titan’s mountainous head shifted, her massive eyes—like twin storms swirling with unbridled energy—surveying the surroundings. Her gaze locked onto the fortress, her focus heavy and unyielding, as if she were peering straight through the ancient stones to the very heart of the group standing in the courtyard.

She exhaled, a sound deep and resonant, like a thunderstorm rolling across an endless sky. The air vibrated with the force of it, and the ground quivered beneath their feet. Dust fell in soft cascades from the fortress walls, the ancient stones trembling under the weight of her presence.

Slowly, her colossal form began to change. The sharp edges of her mountainous limbs softened, the arcs of lightning that crackled around her dimmed. At first, the shrinking was almost imperceptible, a slow erosion of her towering grandeur. Then the process accelerated, her massive figure folding in on itself like a collapsing storm.

Within moments, she disappeared entirely, leaving only the lingering hum of charged air in her wake.

The courtyard was silent for the briefest of moments—until a brilliant flash of lightning struck the ground directly in front of them. The force of it was blinding, the crack of thunder that followed so loud it felt like the sky itself had been torn apart. When the light faded, a figure stood where the bolt had landed.

The woman before them was striking, her presence commanding in a way that seemed to pull all attention to her without effort. She was taller than Rava by two heads, her lean, athletic frame exuding raw power. Her short hair spiked upward in jagged points, as though each strand had been electrified. Her skin was pale, almost luminescent, with veins of glowing blue energy tracing intricate patterns beneath the surface, pulsing faintly like a heartbeat.

The air around her buzzed with an invisible current, the static raising the fine hairs on everyone’s arms.

Her expression, however, was less divine and more human—tired, with a faintly irritable edge, as though she’d just been woken from a nap she hadn’t wanted to end. Her sharp, glowing eyes swept over the group, settling briefly on each of them in turn.

"Well," she said, her voice low and resonant, carrying the weight of a storm on the horizon. "Thou hast roused me from mine exquisite slumber. Prithee tell, what dost thou seek of me, small folke?"

Liora dashed behind Vivienne, clutching onto her dress tightly enough to cause small tears in the fabric. The girl’s black eyes were wide with both awe and terror, her small frame trembling as she peeked out from behind Vivienne’s side. Kivvy, meanwhile, stood frozen, her mouth slightly agape, the sheer presence of the tempest titan rendering her utterly dumbstruck. Renzia, ever inscrutable, remained as impassive as a statue, her wooden frame giving no hint of reaction.

Vivienne, however, had no such paralysis. Her mind worked furiously, calculating how much effort it would take to subdue and consume the not-currently-giant giant. The sheer density of the titan’s aether was staggering—rivaling, perhaps even surpassing, that of the loam titan they had faced before. The thought sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine.

Rava stepped forward, her broad shoulders squared with determination. Her posture was strong and unyielding, a sharp contrast to the underlying irritation Vivienne could sense in her stance. This was not a meeting Rava relished, but she moved with purpose nonetheless, as if shielding the group from the titan’s immense presence through sheer willpower alone.

“Vailora, the Stormruler, Giant of the tempest” Rava said, her voice steady and firm despite the storm-like pressure in the air. “You owe the Serkoth clan a favour.”