Mother of Midnight

Chapter 167 – Lazy Bones

Vailora tilted her head, the motion exuding a grace both unnerving and absolute. It was no idle gesture—it felt as though the act itself resonated across the very fabric of the world. The air thickened subtly, carrying a weight that pressed on the senses like the harbinger of an oncoming tempest. A hum of charged static seeped into the atmosphere, not loud but unmistakable, the kind of sound that demanded attention without raising its voice.

Vivienne’s ears twitched at the faint, deliberate click of Vailora’s tongue. The sound was soft, almost dismissive, yet its resonance carried a power that reverberated like distant thunder rolling through the bones of the earth. The titan’s presence was undeniable, an elemental force restrained within her current form but no less imposing.

“Korriva,” Vailora spoke, her voice low and resonant, each word weighted like the steady beat of a war drum. It was more than mere speech; it was a force that pressed against the air, commanding both reverence and trepidation. “Art thou so restless that thou sendeth forth thine kin so soon? Wouldst thou trouble me anew ere mine rest be full?” Her tone was a mix of weary irritation and lingering amusement, as though she debated whether to smite or indulge.

Rava straightened her back  without hesitation, her shoulders squared and her every movement deliberate, like a soldier standing tall before an overwhelming foe. Her tail flicked sharply behind her, a subtle betrayal of the tension she kept otherwise hidden. “I am Ravanyr Serkoth,” she declared, her voice steady and resolute despite the electric weight of Vailora’s presence. “First daughter to Korriva, fourth child of Korriva.”

Vailora’s glowing eyes narrowed slightly, their brilliance flickering like the warning crackle of a lightning bolt yet to strike. Her irritation became a storm cloud, dark and palpable, and the air around her seemed to vibrate with it. “Thy mother, who darest not come herself, sendeth thee in her stead. Tell me, youngling, wherefore should I lend thee mine ear? Dost thou think thy blood alone enough to claim mine attention?”

The titan’s words lingered in the air like a thunderclap that refused to fade, a challenge as much as a dismissal. Her gaze bore down on Rava, vast and unrelenting, as though the heavens themselves had chosen to scrutinize her. The weight of it was oppressive, a tempest of judgment daring her to justify her presence beneath that storm-forged gaze.

Rava stood tall, her posture casual but with a sharpness in her expression that hinted at defiance. “My mother once did a favor for you,” she said, her tone steady and unaffected, as though speaking to someone of equal standing. “She requests the debt repaid.”

The titan’s grunt was low and guttural, a sound that resonated like distant thunder rolling over a darkened plain. Above, the clouds churned, and a bolt of lightning lanced down from the heavens, striking the courtyard with a deafening crack. The air itself seemed to shudder in response, charged with a volatile energy.

"Leave me be," Vailora intoned, her voice a deep rumble that vibrated through the stone beneath their feet. "I crave the solace of mine slumber. Speak no more of debts and favors, for such matters doth weary me." She rumbled as she turned to leave.

Rava exhaled sharply, her tail flicking behind her in a show of irritation. “Fine,” she said, her voice edged with a bite of sarcasm. “I’ll let her know the mighty titan of the tempest doesn’t honor debts. I’m sure she’ll take it well.” She turned as though to leave, throwing a glance over her shoulder. “Enjoy your nap.”

It was subtle—imperceptible to most—but Vivienne caught it. She tasted it in the charged air, the faintest flicker of unease, like a crack in the foundation of a storm. It was gone in an instant, buried beneath the overwhelming presence of the titan, but it had been there. Fear. The titan turned around with a scowl.

Vivienne’s lips curled into a small, knowing smile. “Well, that’s interesting,” she murmured under her breath, her black eyes glinting with intrigue.

Rava turned her back to the titan, her movements deliberate as she cast an uncharacteristically sly smile toward Vivienne. There was a momentary glint of mischief in her amber eyes before she strode forward, her boots crunching softly against the courtyard stone.

"Wait." The single word rumbled forth from Vailora, carrying the weight of a thunderhead.

Rava stopped mid-stride, her smirk fading into an even, controlled expression. She turned slowly, her posture unwavering as she faced the titan once more. "Yes, most glorious Titan of Storms?"

Vailora’s glowing eyes bore into her, the air around them tingling with energy. "I should be most remiss to forsake a favour granted. Speak now, what dost thou require of me?"

“The Dawn Titan has joined forces with our enemies,” Rava began, her voice calm but firm. “We ask of you to meet her in battle, so she isn’t part of it.”

Vailora’s brow furrowed slightly, the subtle motion sending ripples through the atmosphere as though the winds themselves responded to her emotions. "And thou wouldst have me lay waste to the forces of those who dare oppose thee?"

Rava shook her head, her tail flicking behind her with restrained irritation. “No. Just the titan. Our fellow clansmen will handle the rest on their own.”

The titan tilted her head, tapping a finger thoughtfully against her chin. The motion seemed to stir the storm clouds above, faint flashes of lightning illuminating the skies in her wake. "I suppose I couldst place mine sister in her proper station. Very well. When the deed is done, the debt shalt be paid in full."

Rava bowed low, her movements deliberate and exacting, just enough to acknowledge the titan’s station but carefully measured to avoid the submission that would dishonor her standing. “That is all we want,” she said, her voice calm yet firm. “Only a giant can match a giant. Excluding, of course, the champions of Serranos and Nirathys.”

Vivienne had to suppress a snort of laughter. The mental image of Korriva, Rava’s mother, standing before this imposing titan with her characteristic unyielding glare, was almost too much. It didn’t escape Vivienne’s notice when Vailora—the living storm, the titan whose presence bent the very world around her—flinched ever so slightly at Korriva’s name.

It was a subtle thing, so imperceptible that most would have missed it. But Vivienne wasn’t most people. Her black eyes glittered, catching the faintest ripple of unease in the titan’s stance. The notion of Korriva invoking even a flicker of discomfort in a being like Vailora was almost as satisfying as it was amusing.

Still, her thoughts drifted elsewhere. Could she take on a titan herself? It wasn’t the first time the question had crossed her mind since her arrival on Nymoria, and it likely wouldn’t be the last. She already knew the answer deep down of course, she couldn’t. Not as she was now. Titans, despite being as much flesh and blood as she, were vast, boundless pools of aether. She could feel the titan’s immense energy radiating outward, calling to her like a siren’s song.

Yet the idea wasn’t about victory or proving herself. It was the hunger. The ever-present need to consume. The craving pulsed through her body with every beat of her false heart, a mockery of life’s rhythm. She had been made for destruction, designed to unravel the threads of existence itself. To unleash herself entirely was a temptation she resisted daily, but here, in the presence of such power, that restraint was harder to maintain.

Vailora’s gaze shifted suddenly, falling upon Vivienne with all the weight of a brewing storm. The charged air seemed to hum around them, resonating with the titan’s scrutiny.

Vivienne didn’t flinch. If anything, her grin widened, impossibly sharp and inhuman, baring teeth that glinted like shards of obsidian. The tension was almost palpable, crackling in the air between them.

“What be that thing?” Vailora’s voice rumbled, deep and resonant, shaking the very ground beneath them. Her massive hand extended outward, her finger pointing at Vivienne with the kind of disdain that would crumble most mortals.

Rava didn’t so much as blink. Following the titan’s gesture, she cast a quick glance back at Vivienne, her lips curving into a faint smirk. “That,” she said simply, “would be my lover, Vivienne.”

The titan’s expression darkened, her glowing eyes narrowing as her lip curled slightly in disgust. “Lover? ’Tis one of the fractured. Such an abomination should be unmade, not cherished.”

Vivienne tilted her head, her grin unwavering, her black eyes alight with mischief. The words didn’t bother her; in fact, they only seemed to amuse her further. She could almost taste the unease in the air, subtle as it was, and it was intoxicating. “You’ve got your opinions,” she murmured, her voice soft but laced with a dark, teasing edge. “But Rava seems to think otherwise, don’t you, sweetheart?”

Rava’s gaze didn’t falter. “She’s my choice,” she said firmly, her tone casual but resolute. “Not yours. You’re here to repay a debt, Vailora, not to judge who I share my bed with.”

The storm giant’s luminous eyes lingered on Vivienne for a moment longer, studying her with a mixture of disdain and something closer to apprehension. The tempest around her seemed to falter briefly, as though even the storm itself was caught off guard by the defiance standing before it.

For Vivienne, the moment was electric. She could feel the energy thrumming in the air, taste the faint, tantalizing edges of Vailora’s power. The titan’s unease, however slight, was a victory in itself. Her grin stretched wider, her voice dropping into a low, almost conspiratorial whisper. “Careful, Vailora,” she said, her tone sweet but dripping with malice. “You wouldn’t want to underestimate me.”

It was a gamble, provoking a titan like that, but Vivienne couldn’t help herself. The challenge, the danger—it was all too exhilarating. She thrived on moments like this, on the taut thrill of skirting the edge of annihilation, playing with forces most would flee from. And for just a moment, she thought she saw it: the barest flicker of doubt in the storm giant’s glowing eyes.

“Vivienne,” Rava’s voice cut through the tension, low and sharp, a warning laced with irritation.

Vivienne turned slightly, her grin unrelenting. “What? She looks delicious.” Her tongue flicked out briefly, jet-black and snake-like, a gesture as unsettling as it was deliberate.

Behind her, she could feel Liora stiffen, the small child pressing closer to her leg for comfort. Kivvy’s hand rested lightly on Liora’s shoulder, though her gaze never wavered from Vailora, her expression carefully neutral. Renzia, meanwhile, stood like a disjointed statue, her wooden and canvas form eerily still, her head tilted in silent observation.

“Vivienne!” Rava hissed, her tone a razor’s edge.

Vivienne cast a sidelong glance at her lover, a flash of amusement in her swirling black eyes. She knew she was pushing too far, toeing a line that even she wasn’t sure she should cross. But it was impossible to resist.

“Thou wouldst fail to even touch me, fractured abomination,” Vailora growled, her voice reverberating through the air like rolling thunder. The sheer disdain in her tone was palpable, a storm brewing within her words.

Vivienne tilted her head, her grin widening as if to say Is that so? Her sharp teeth gleamed under the flickering light of the tempest, and for a moment, she entertained the idea of lunging forward, just to see what would happen. The power radiating from the titan was intoxicating, a heady mix of danger and challenge that stirred something deep within her.

But then she felt it. The subtle tremor of fear. Not from Vailora, no—this was smaller, closer, familiar. Liora’s tiny hands clung to her leg, trembling ever so slightly. The child’s breathing hitched, and Vivienne could sense the unease radiating from her in waves. It was like a bucket of cold water poured over the flames of Vivienne’s recklessness.

She sighed, the grin slipping from her face, though the wicked glint in her eyes lingered. As much fun as it was to goad one of the most powerful entities in the world, now wasn’t the time. She wasn’t strong enough to back up her teasing—not yet. And she wasn’t going to put everyone here, nor the mission, in danger because of her hunger for chaos.

“Yes, yes,” Vivienne said, waving a hand dismissively. “I’m only teasing.”

Her tone was light, almost playful, but there was an undercurrent of sincerity in her words, a faint acknowledgment of the line she’d been about to cross. She glanced down at Liora, her features softening ever so slightly, and gave the child’s hair a quick tousle with her clawed hand.

Rava’s posture relaxed—barely—and she exhaled through her nose, her sharp eyes still locked on Vivienne. “Sometimes, I wonder why I bother with you,” she muttered.

“Because I make life interesting, sweetheart,” Vivienne purred, her grin returning, though this time it was more subdued.

Rava sighed, the sound heavy with resignation, and turned back to the titan, her movements deliberate and measured. “The Dawn Titan approaches almost directly west of here,” she said, her voice steady, “past the fortress city of Drakthar. She will likely arrive within the next two weeks.”

Vailora’s gaze shifted from Rava to Vivienne, her luminous eyes narrowing in disdain. The sneer that curled her lips was as much a show of contempt as it was of her immense confidence. To her, Vivienne was less an adversary and more an annoyance—a gnat buzzing in the presence of a hurricane.

But then, as if the weight of millennia had caught up with her all at once, Vailora’s sneer faltered. The titan let out a deep yawn, the sound rumbling like distant thunder, and stretched her colossal arms over her head and rested her hands on the back of her head. The casualness of the motion was almost disarming, a sharp contrast to the oppressive aura she exuded moments before.

“Yes. Fine,” she grumbled, her words rolling out like low thunderclouds. “I shall handle my errant sister. But thou shalt leave me be once this matter is settled. Bother me not for the next few centuries, for I shall return to my slumber.”

The indifference in her tone was palpable, but there was a subtle undercurrent of weariness. It was the kind of fatigue that came not from the body but from the soul, an exhaustion borne of endless cycles of duty and conflict.

Vivienne tilted her head, studying Vailora with an intensity that bordered on predatory curiosity. The titan’s yawn, as unintentional as it was, had chipped away at her imposing image ever so slightly. Even gods get tired, Vivienne thought, a faint grin tugging at the corners of her lips. How... mortal.

Rava, ever the pragmatist, inclined her head respectfully. “We wouldn’t dream of disturbing your rest any further,” she said, her tone carefully neutral. “Once this is done, the debt is paid, and you’ll hear nothing more from us.”

Behind them, Renzia’s quiet, steady presence remained unwavering, featureless face fixed on the exchange with rapt attention. Liora clung to Vivienne’s leg, her small fingers gripping tightly, while Kivvy stood protectively beside her, her expression unreadable but her posture ready for anything.

Vailora lowered her arms, her massive frame casting a shadow over the group. Her gaze lingered on Vivienne for a moment longer, the disdain still evident but tempered by something else—perhaps intrigue, or perhaps the faintest hint of caution.

“See that thou dost not provoke my wrath again, fractured one,” Vailora said, her voice quieter now but no less commanding. “For thy jesting wouldst be thy undoing shouldst I lose patience.”

Vivienne gave a mock bow, her grin widening. “Of course, oh mighty Titan of Storms. I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Rava shot her a sharp look, but Vivienne only shrugged, the grin never leaving her face. It was a game to her, a dangerous one, but one she couldn’t resist playing.

Vailora’s massive form began to shift, her energy receding as though preparing to return to her rest. The storm above them seemed to calm slightly, the lightning no longer striking with the same ferocity.

Rava took a step back, her shoulders relaxing just enough to be noticeable. “We’ll leave you to your rest,” she said, her tone firm. “Thank you, Vailora.”

The titan offered no reply, her glowing eyes distant, as though she had already dismissed the mortals before her from her mind. The air grew thick with static, and then lightning tore through the sky, striking Vailora’s diminished form. In the same instant, she vanished, leaving behind only the faint scent of ozone and the soft rumble of retreating thunder.

For a moment, the group stood in tense silence, the charged energy of the encounter still clinging to the air. Vivienne’s smirk widened, her sharp teeth glinting in the dim light as her tail swayed lazily behind her.

Then Rava turned on her, fury igniting in her eyes. “What were you thinking, Vivienne?” she hissed, the words almost snarled.

Vivienne tilted her head, her grin unrepentant. “Mostly how tasty she would be to eat,” she said, her voice light, as though she hadn’t just risked provoking a god-like being into obliterating them all.

“She is a titan! One of Gorvahra’s children!” Rava snapped, her claws flexing at her sides. “Have you completely lost your mind?”

Vivienne shrugged, the movement languid and unconcerned. “You’re acting as if I actually bit her,” she said with a small chuckle. “Though I must admit, she did look rather... appetizing.”

Rava’s tail lashed behind her, a sharp contrast to Vivienne’s calm demeanor. She stepped closer, her voice lowering to a dangerous growl. “She’s a titan, Vivienne. Do you even understand what that means? You’ve met one before, and you weren’t nearly this disrespectful with the Loam Titan!”

Vivienne’s grin didn’t waver. “You were a bit irreverent with both yourself.” she said, her tone teasing.

“I was casual,” Rava shot back, her voice sharp as a blade. “That’s different. The Loam Titan doesn’t care for formality—she’s peaceful, for the most part. I knew what I was doing. Same with Vailora.”

“And you think I didn’t?” Vivienne asked, her grin softening into something sly.

Rava threw her hands up in frustration, her claws gleaming in the fading light of the storm. “Vivienne, you were one sarcastic remark away from her reducing us all to ash!”

Vivienne’s gaze flicked down to her side where Liora clung to her, her small frame trembling. Her smile faltered for a fraction of a second, guilt flickering in her eyes before she straightened, her grin returning in full force. “She was never going to hurt us,” Vivienne said, her tone quieter now, though still laced with confidence. “I could feel it.”

“You could feel it?” Rava’s voice rose, incredulous. “You were gambling with all of our lives on a feeling?”

Vivienne shrugged again, though this time there was a trace of unease in the gesture. “It’s not like I was planning to pick a fight,” she said, her voice softer. “It was just... fun.”

“Fun?” Rava’s tail lashed again, her claws clenching. “You think taunting one of the most powerful beings in existence is fun?”

Vivienne opened her mouth to retort, but her gaze caught Liora’s again. The little girl was peeking out from behind Kivvy, her wide eyes filled with fear. Vivienne’s grin faded completely, and she sighed, running a hand through her hair. “I didn’t mean to scare her,” she said quietly, her voice almost apologetic.

Rava’s anger cooled slightly, her shoulders relaxing as she followed Vivienne’s gaze. She let out a long breath, shaking her head. “You need to learn when to stop, Vivienne,” she said, her tone more tired than angry now. “One day, your games are going to cost us more than you can fix.”

Vivienne nodded slowly, her usual bravado replaced with a rare moment of sincerity. “You’re right,” she said, though her voice was soft, almost hesitant.

The storm clouds overhead began to thin, the first rays of sunlight breaking through to cast the courtyard in a pale golden light. Rava turned to the rest of the group, her expression weary but resolute. “Let’s move. We’ve wasted enough time here.”

Vivienne fell into step beside her, her grin creeping back as the tension began to lift. “You know,” she said lightly, her tone regaining its usual playful edge, “you should thank me. I think I made her like us more.”

Rava groaned, rolling her eyes as she quickened her pace. “You’re impossible.”