Mother of Midnight

Chapter 172 – Roles

Vivienne pulled the carriage along with steady, unhurried steps, her tail swaying lazily behind her. The weight was nothing—certainly not with the little nightmare clinging to her back, giggling in delight at every shift of motion. The wagon creaked slightly as it rolled over uneven ground, the occasional bump jostling its passengers inside.

"Is that so? Well, if she declares it, it must be so!" Vivienne said, her tone dripping with exaggerated grandiosity.

"Yes!" Liora chirped from her perch, all four of her black eyes glinting with mischief. "Isn’t she really soft, Auntie?" She twisted her head to peer at Rava, her hair spilling down Vivienne’s shoulder.

“Yes, Auntie. Aren’t I soft?” Said Vivienne smugly.

Rava, seated on the driver’s bench with the reins in hand, smiled smugly. "Oh very much so. Very, very soft." she said in a low voice, keeping her gaze on the path ahead.

The journey from the Bell Castle had been eerily quiet, a stark contrast to the relentless onslaught of horrors they'd faced in the open plains. It wasn’t that the wastes were devoid of danger—far from it—but the frequency of attacks had dwindled, giving them stretches of uneasy calm.

Still, what threats they did encounter were anything but minor. Twice now, they had been forced into battle against creatures unlike anything they'd seen before. The first, a towering thing mistaken at first for an oversized quocha, had revealed itself to be a grotesque parasite, its main body a fleshy, tubular mass that split open into a yawning, many-toothed maw. It had taken all of them—Vivienne’s raw power, Rava’s sheer ferocity, Kivvy’s precision, and Renzia’s eerie, almost unnatural movements—to bring it down.

The second was more humanoid in shape, but only barely. Its proportions were disturbingly wrong: arms too short to properly defend itself, yet legs so long that it could cover frightening distances in just a few bounding strides. It had moved in jerking, unpredictable patterns, forcing them all to work together just to corner it. When Vivienne finally tore it apart, its body crumbled into a writhing mass of smaller, eel-like creatures that took nearly another hour to fully exterminate.

Both fights had been brutal, exhausting, and had made it painfully clear that while the path west was less populated by monstrosities, the ones that did lurk here were far deadlier than the average beast.

That had been their life for the next week and a half. Intermittent fights and the same biting cold of the wastes piecing their bones, except for Liora and Vivienne of course. When Liora would get hungry, Rava always volunteered herself and the next day Vivienne would funnel the ambient aether in the air into the large warrior.

The fire crackled softly, sending flickering shadows dancing across their makeshift camp. The night air had a bitter chill, their dwindling firewood doing little to keep it at bay. Kivvy sat wrapped in her blanket, huddled as close to the fire as she could without singeing herself. She let out the occasional grumble, shifting as though trying to soak up every last bit of warmth.

Renzia moved in jerky, uneven strides around the camp’s perimeter, her movements stiff and unnatural. Every so often, she would pause, tilting her head as if listening for something unseen before continuing her patrol.

Vivienne, crouched near the fire, stirred their meal—a simple but hearty stew—her sharp claws clicking lightly against the metal pot. The rich, savory scent of the simmering broth wafted through the air, an inviting contrast to the cold. Nearby, Rava and Liora sat watching her work, Liora perched in Rava’s lap, her dark eyes glinting with interest.

“Viv.”

Vivienne’s ears flicked at the sound of her name, but she didn’t turn from her task.

“Yes, sweetheart?” she said smoothly, her voice light.

“We need to talk.”

That got her attention. She looked up from the pot, narrowing her black eyes playfully. “No four words could be more terrifying to hear.” She let out a quiet chuckle, wiping her hands on a cloth. “Do we need privacy, or…?”

“No, this is fine.” Rava shook her head, her expression unreadable. “It’s about your ‘pep-ups,’ as you’ve been calling them.”

Vivienne quirked a brow. “What about them?”

“I think I can confirm that they’re expanding my aether pool,” Rava said, rolling her shoulders as though testing the sensation. “More than that, I feel my connection to the tempest deepening.”

Vivienne set the ladle down, resting her hands on her knees as she gave Rava a long, appraising look. The flames cast a soft, flickering glow over them, making the sharp angles of Rava’s face seem even more severe.

"Is this a bad thing?" Vivienne asked, her tone light, but there was a weight behind the question.

Rava didn’t answer immediately. She stared into the fire, her lips pressing into a thin line as she mulled over the words. The firelight reflected in her sharp eyes, flickering like a storm barely held at bay. Then, with a slow shrug, she spoke.

“I’m not sure,” she admitted, rolling one shoulder as if testing something unseen. “I also think I might have gained a new affinity, but I don’t know which.”

Vivienne tilted her head, her dark eyes glinting with curiosity. "Oh, that sounds nice."

"Viv." Rava's voice was firm, cutting through Vivienne’s nonchalance. "It’s unheard of. People do not just gain new affinities. They are born with them."

Vivienne blinked, her expression shifting from idle amusement to something more thoughtful. She wondered if that was because of her. She was told all those months ago her ability to draw aether through her and into someone else was unheard of as well. It made her realise that she didn’t know everything she could do, mostly working on instinct up until this point.

Her lips pursed.

“Well,” Vivienne said, clasping her hands together with a little smirk, “I do have a habit of breaking things. Maybe reality’s just another one for the pile.”

Rava didn’t share her amusement. Her eyes flicked up from the fire, sharp and unyielding. “Seriously, Vivienne,” she said, her voice low but firm, “I’m unnerved by this. This should not have happened. I don’t think you should do it again.”

Vivienne hummed thoughtfully, tapping her fingers against her thigh. “Well, if you’re sure,” she said slowly, “but Liora does need to eat. And even I will acknowledge the danger out here. Can you afford not to, while we’re in the wastes?”

Rava’s jaw tightened. She chewed on the inside of her cheek, her ears flicking ever so slightly as she stared into the fire. The silence stretched, only broken by the occasional pop of burning wood.

“No,” she admitted at last. “No, we cannot.”

Vivienne exhaled through her nose, tilting her head. “I get that this is outside of common sense,” she said, her voice softer now, less teasing. “But more aether, another affinity—surely that can’t be a bad thing, can it?” To her, it sounded like a boon. Rava wasn’t getting hurt, wasn’t losing control. If anything, her augments were stronger than ever. Their last few fights had made that obvious.

Rava exhaled, rubbing her hands together as if trying to work warmth into them. “It’s not that simple, Viv.”

Before she could explain further, a small voice cut through the tension.

“Are you two fighting?”

Vivienne turned her head slightly. Liora had been curled up comfortably against her back, arms loosely wrapped around her shoulders, but now she peeked over them, her four dark eyes wide and uncertain.

Vivienne smiled, tilting her head back just enough to nuzzle against her. “No, sweetheart,” she said gently. “Just talking.”

Liora’s brows pinched. “It sounds like fighting.”

Vivienne chuckled, the sound warm and unbothered. “That’s because Auntie Rava’s a bit dramatic.”

Rava shot her a glare, ears twitching in irritation. “It’s not dramatic. You are breaking common sense.”

Vivienne’s smirk didn’t waver, though there was a playful lilt to her voice as she said, “Perhaps I am.” There was an amused glint in her dark eyes, but after a moment, her expression shifted—less teasing now, more thoughtful. She tapped a claw idly against her thigh, considering.

“But for now,” she continued, “let’s keep going as we have. When we get to civilization, you can have it… checked? Or something?” She rolled a hand vaguely, clearly uncertain of the logistics. “I don’t know what the process would be for this sort of thing, but would that work?”

Rava let out a slow, measured sigh, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “Okay. Sure,” she said at last. “Little we can do about it right now, anyway.”

Vivienne nodded, satisfied. “See? A perfectly reasonable compromise.”

Rava muttered something under her breath, but the weight in her shoulders seemed to ease, if only slightly.

Liora, still huddled in an unnecessary blanket, let out a soft hum. “That means you’re not fighting anymore, right?”

Vivienne grinned, flashing a sharp, knowing smile. “That means we were never fighting, sweetheart. It was a discussion. A debate.”

Liora seemed to consider this for a moment before nodding once, apparently satisfied with the explanation. Then, her four dark eyes blinked up at Vivienne, her voice small but direct. “I’m hungry. Can I eat tonight?”

Vivienne arched a brow, her grin turning just a touch sharper. “Where are your manners, young lady?”

Liora’s face scrunched slightly in thought before she quickly corrected herself. “Oh. Sorry. Can I please eat tonight?”

Vivienne chuckled, her tail giving a slight twitch against the ground. “Better. But you’ll have to ask Auntie, not me. I would feed you myself if I could.”

Liora turned her head, peering over at Rava with hopeful eyes. “Auntie Rava, can I ple—”

“Yes. That’s fine,” Rava interrupted, exhaling heavily.

Liora beamed, bouncing in place. “Yay!”

Vivienne smirked at Rava. “You’re so soft.”

Rava shot her a warning look. “Don’t start.”

Vivienne stirred the pot lazily, inhaling the mix of spices with a quiet sigh. It was good enough, though she still wished for thornback. Thornback meat just held it’s aether so much better, and it always left her feeling more satisfied. Still, the meal was well received—Kivvy tucked into it eagerly, curled as close to the fire as she could get without catching fire herself. Rava ate at a more measured pace, adding just a touch more salt to hers, though she nodded in approval.

Vivienne leaned back, draping an arm around Liora’s shoulders. The little one was happily leaning into Vivienne. Renzia, having completed another round of her stiff, almost mechanical patrols, stood near the wagon, watching the firelight flicker.

The conversation had been sparse, but now that they’d settled in, Vivienne’s mind wandered. She glanced at Rava, a lazy smirk curling her lips. “So, if Rava is Auntie, what does that make Kivvy?”

Kivvy, mid-bite, slowed and gave her a suspicious look.

Rava raised a brow but said nothing, clearly waiting to see where this was going.

Liora furrowed her brow in thought. She tapped her claws together, clearly taking the question very seriously.

Kivvy sighed, already looking exasperated. “Does it have to make me something?”

“Yes,” Liora said, still deep in contemplation.

Vivienne grinned. “You can’t just be ‘Kivvy.’ That wouldn’t be fair.”

Kivvy groaned, tucking herself deeper into her blanket. “Fine. What am I, then?”

Liora’s four dark eyes brightened suddenly. “Big sister Kivvy.”

Kivvy nearly choked. “Excuse me?”

Liora nodded to herself. “Yes.”

Kivvy opened her mouth, then shut it. Her ears twitched beneath her hood, and her tail curled a little tighter around herself. “...I don’t hate it,” she admitted begrudgingly.

Vivienne hummed, amused. “Well, that’s settled then.”

Rava exhaled through her nose, her lips quirked in amusement.

"Okay, now what about Renzia?" asked Vivienne, her voice thoughtful as she glanced over at the mannequin.

Liora’s gaze shifted to Renzia, her little hands fiddling nervously with the edges of her blanket. The question clearly made her uncomfortable, and her earlier shyness returned. She hesitated for a long moment, her eyes flicking between Renzia and Vivienne before she finally mumbled, “She’s... like a big sister too?”

Vivienne smiled warmly, nodding. “I think that sounds about right.” She shifted her attention to Renzia, who was still standing somewhat apart from the others.

Renzia made no immediate response, her face unreadable as usual, but there was a subtle shift in the way she stood, a faint sense of acknowledgment in her posture.

Vivienne turned to Liora, resting her chin atop the little one’s head. “And what does that make me, sweetheart?”

Liora stiffened slightly.

Vivienne tilted her head, waiting patiently, her gaze soft but expectant. Liora fidgeted, glancing at Kivvy, then Rava, as if seeking some sort of reassurance. Her small hands twisted nervously in her lap, her face downcast as if the weight of Vivienne's attention was too much to bear.

Vivienne’s expression softened, understanding her discomfort. “Oh?”

Liora didn’t meet her gaze, her voice barely above a whisper, the words almost lost in the crackle of the fire. After a long pause, she mumbled something so faint Vivienne almost didn't catch it.

Vivienne tapped a claw against her arm, the sharp sound cutting through the air, a gentle reminder. “Speak up, sweetheart.”

Liora swallowed audibly, the small movement enough to make Vivienne’s heart ache. Finally, she murmured, “…Mommy.”

The fire crackled and popped, the brief silence after Liora’s admission almost heavy in the air.

Vivienne’s chest fluttered with something warm—something tender—and for a moment, she was struck speechless. But she didn’t let the moment pass without responding. She kept her tone light, teasing, trying to make it less intimidating. “Oh? Mommy, is it?”

Liora nodded quickly, her face a soft shade of pink, her gaze still firmly fixed on the ground, as if afraid to look up. The little one was almost a ball of nervous energy, but there was something undeniably sweet about it, something that made Vivienne’s heart swell.

Vivienne squeezed her a little closer, her arms gently enveloping the small form of the girl. “Then that’s what I’ll be. You did, technically come from me after all,” she added with a chuckle, pressing a soft kiss to the top of Liora's head.

Liora’s shyness didn’t waver, but her fingers curled slightly around Vivienne’s arm, a subtle, almost imperceptible shift. It was a gesture of quiet comfort, her small touch warm against Vivienne’s skin, as if the words had settled some fragile thing in her heart. Something that had been floating, uncertain, but now grounded. Liora’s breath was slow, even, but her shoulders remained tight with tension, as though she were afraid to fully embrace the shift in the air between them.

Vivienne smiled gently, her voice softening further. “You know, I’ve been waiting for that.”

Liora’s face flushed, her gaze still averted, her fingers now digging into the fabric of Vivienne’s sleeve, fidgeting with the tension she couldn’t quite shed. “You have?” The girl mumbled, barely audible, as if the idea of Vivienne waiting for something related to her felt almost unreal.

Vivienne nodded slowly, her thumb tracing soft patterns on Liora’s arm, offering a silent reassurance. “Yes. Your… circumstances are strange,” she continued, the words coming with a quiet sincerity. “Not bad, of course,” she added quickly, sensing the girl's growing anxiety, “just odd.” She paused, looking down at Liora, her eyes soft with affection. “So I wanted it to be up to you.”

The quiet weight of Vivienne’s words lingered between them, an unspoken promise that Liora could decide, that Vivienne would follow her lead, no matter what. For all her strength, Vivienne had a way of making things feel like they weren’t set in stone. She wanted Liora to feel safe in her choice, to know that there was no pressure, just space to grow into whatever bond they’d create together.

Liora, still avoiding Vivienne's eyes, chewed on her bottom lip as she processed the words. Her fingers relaxed slightly around Vivienne's arm, but she didn’t pull away. Slowly, carefully, as if testing the waters, she let her head rest against Vivienne’s side, her cheek pressing softly against her.

“I think…” Liora started, her voice barely more than a whisper, “I think I like it. Calling you… Mommy.”

Vivienne's heart softened at the simplicity of the words, the quiet confirmation, and she couldn’t help but smile. Her arms wrapped a little tighter around the girl, protective but gentle. It felt like she maintained her connection to a 

“That’s good, sweetheart,” Vivienne murmured, her voice thick with affection. “You can call me that all you like.”