Mother of Midnight

Chapter 187 – A Song of Sinew and Shadow

“... but they couldn’t catch me!” Vivienne’s eyes sparkled with the thrill of recounting the tale. “I was too fast. They didn’t stand a chance. So I lured them away from the camp for hours, weaving through the trees, making them chase shadows.” She leaned forward, her voice lowering to a near whisper, drawing her daughter in. “I made sure they were exhausted, overconfident, thinking they were getting closer with every step.”

Liora listened intently, her wide eyes fixed on her mother. "How fast were you going?" she asked, her small voice full of curiosity and admiration.

Vivienne let out a soft chuckle, the sound rich with mischief. “How fast? Oh, sweetheart, I was faster than a flash of lightning. A blur in the night. They probably never even saw me most of the time, and when they did, it was only for a moment, just long enough to see their own panic in my wake.”

Liora’s eyes widened further, clearly picturing her mother’s incredible speed. “Were you that fast all the time?”

Vivienne’s smirk widened. “Not always. But when I need to be... yes.” She stretched lazily, her tail flicking behind her as she continued. “It’s all about knowing when to run, and when to make them think they’ve got you. I wasn’t running for speed alone. I made sure I had the advantage at every turn. I moved like water over rocks—fast, but never in the same place twice.”

Liora’s eyes widened, her little fingers curling into her mother’s sleeve in excitement. “Did they even see you?”

Vivienne laughed softly, the sound rich with amusement. “Not a chance. I danced around them. When they thought they had me, I was already gone, off in the distance, making sure they had no clue where I was. I kept weaving through the woods, back and forth, around the rocks, over the streams. They couldn’t catch me because I wasn’t just running. I was moving with purpose, dodging and slipping away like the wind itself.”

She leaned forward, lowering her voice into a conspiratorial whisper. “I made sure they were all hot on my heels, getting tired, thinking they were closing in. And when they were at their limit, when they thought I was trapped, I led them right into my trap.”

Liora’s face was alight with wonder, clearly picturing the scene in her mind. “How did you make a trap, Mommy?”

Vivienne’s tail curled in satisfaction as she thought back to the hunt. “Easy. I used the land to my advantage. A clearing with a few big rocks. I’d dart out, then disappear into the trees, making them chase me further. But I always knew where I was going. I left them chasing shadows while I positioned myself behind those rocks, hidden in the darkness. When they ran right into the clearing, thinking they had cornered me... I pounced.”

Vivienne leaned back again, her claws gently tapping against the ground as she looked down at her daughter, whose eyes were wide with awe.

“So you see, darling, it wasn’t just about running fast,” Vivienne continued, her tone becoming more serious. “It was about making them think they could catch me, then using their confidence against them. I played them like a game.”

Liora nodded slowly, clearly impressed. “Wow, you are so strong!”

Vivienne chuckled, tilting her head with a smug grin. “Sometimes being clever is more important than being strong. But I like to think I’m a little of both.” She flexed her fingers, her claws clicking together in a mock display of power, making Liora giggle.

A throat cleared from the doorway, drawing Vivienne’s attention. She turned to see a familiar figure lounging against the frame—a rather tall and undeniably dashing lekine, arms crossed, an amused glint in her sharp eyes.

“Come for story time?” Vivienne drawled, baring a row of sharp teeth in a teasing grin.

Rava smirked, pushing off the doorframe with an easy roll of her shoulders. “Perhaps.”

“Aunty Rava!” Liora practically bounced on the bed, her little hands gripping the blanket in excitement. “Mommy was telling me what she did to all those bad guys! She was really fast, and they couldn’t even catch her!”

Rava let out a low chuckle, stepping into the room and making her way over to the bed. “That so?” she mused, one brow arching. “Sounds about right.” Without warning, she reached down, scooping Vivienne up as if she weighed nothing.

“Oi!” Vivienne squawked, more indignant than surprised, as Rava effortlessly settled onto the bed with her prize, adjusting the smaller woman until she was firmly seated on her lap.

“There,” Rava said, smug as ever. “Now it’s proper story time.” She leaned her chin on Vivienne’s shoulder, tail flicking lazily behind her.

Liora giggled, watching as her mother huffed but ultimately relented, crossing her arms with a dramatic sigh. “Fine, fine,” Vivienne muttered, though her smirk betrayed her. “Where was I?”

Liora beamed. “You were about to tell me how you beat the priestess!”

Rava’s ears perked up. “Oh? This sounds good.”

Vivienne’s grin returned, sharp and wicked. “Oh, sweetheart, you’re going to love this part.”

Before she could continue, a deep, blaring horn echoed in the distance—then another, and another, until the air trembled with the sound. A battle call.

Vivienne sighed, rolling her eyes. “No rest for the wicked,” she muttered, tilting her head back against Rava’s shoulder. She pressed a quick kiss to Liora’s forehead before gently booping her nose with a clawed finger. “Sorry, mijita. Mommy has to go fight the bad guys some more.”

Liora pouted but nodded in understanding. “Is Renzia keeping you safe?” Vivienne asked, her tone softening just a fraction.

The little girl perked up, her pout vanishing. “Mhm! Renzia plays with me a lot. She’s not very good yet, but I’m teaching her!”

Rava huffed a laugh, adjusting her grip on Vivienne’s waist but making no move to let her go. “Poor thing doesn’t stand a chance.”

Vivienne smirked, flicking her tail against Rava’s leg. “That’s what happens when you let a child of mine teach you.” She tapped Liora’s nose once more. “Keep at it, sweetheart. She’ll get better.”

“I will!” Liora beamed.

Another horn blasted through the air, this time closer. Rava exhaled sharply. “You’re really gonna make me carry you out of here, aren’t you?”

Vivienne sighed dramatically, relaxing further against Rava’s chest. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

Rava rolled her eyes before standing up effortlessly, hoisting Vivienne over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Oi!” Vivienne yelped, swatting at her back. “You’re enjoying this too much.”

“Maybe,” Rava admitted with a toothy grin, giving Vivienne’s rear a pat before heading toward the door. “Now, let’s go make someone’s day worse.”

They were halfway to the wall when Rava finally let Vivienne go, setting her down with a grunt. Vivienne hit the ground running, falling into step beside her as they sprinted toward the battlements, boots and claws alike pounding against the stone. Drakthar soldiers rushed alongside them, their weapons clattering as they ascended the steps two, three at a time, urgency surging through the air like the crackle before a storm.

Vivienne crested the top of the wall, her breath steady, battle-ready, but the moment her eyes took in the sight beyond, her smile vanished.

“Oh. That’s not good.”

The battlefield stretched before her, a sea of armored bodies shifting like the tide. And there, standing just beyond the front lines of the Aegis army, was a colossus of gleaming gold and molten light—the Dawn Titan. Even from this distance, she could see the cracks running along its form, divine ichor leaking from deep wounds, its armor dented and blackened. But it still stood.

And Vailora was nowhere to be seen.

Vivienne’s jaw tightened. She swept her gaze over the battlefield, searching, tasting the air for any trace of her sister’s aether. Nothing. That thing had fought her. And that thing had won.

Rava let out a low curse beside her. “That’s real bad.”

Vivienne rolled her shoulders, the obsidian scales along her arms catching the dim light as her claws flexed. A wicked grin curled onto her lips, sharp and hungry. “Guess that means it’s my turn.”

Rava’s ears flicked, her arms crossing over her chest as she leveled Vivienne with a stare. “She would tear you apart,” she said flatly. “Not only is she one of the giants, but dawn aether has never agreed with you.”

Vivienne’s gaze never left the titan standing among the ranks of the Aegis army. Even at a distance, she could see the damage it had taken—the fractures in its radiant form, the way it favored one side. It had fought, and it had won, but victory had not been kind.

“Perhaps,” she mused, tapping a claw against her hip. “But if the wall falls, Liora will be in danger.” Her grin widened, though there was something colder in her expression now. “And she looks heavily injured.”

Rava let out a slow breath, eyes narrowing. “Heavily injured doesn’t mean weak.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Vivienne agreed. Her tail flicked behind her, a slow and deliberate motion. “But it does mean she’ll be slower. Slower means predictable. And predictable?” She chuckled, her voice almost purring. “That means killable.”

The horns blared over the battlefield, deep and resonant, rolling across the land like a thunderclap. The Aegis army surged forward, a tide of silver and blue moving in perfect, practiced formation. Three massive battering rams rumbled across the field, their hulking frames pushed by ranks of armored soldiers. Siege towers loomed behind them, creeping toward the walls like dreadful monoliths, each one bristling with archers and shielded warriors waiting to spill over the battlements.

And then, there was her.

The Dawn Titan moved at the army’s flank, her golden form battered and fractured, yet still standing. Each step she took was heavy, her limp undeniable. But despite the damage, despite the wear, she pressed on—unyielding.

Rava let out a sharp breath, flexing her fingers before checking the fit of her gauntlets, pulling the leather straps tight. Vivienne, standing beside her, placed a clawed hand against her back.

“It will be fine,” she murmured, her voice steady, almost soothing. “These walls look strong. They should hold.” She squeezed lightly before pulling away, black eyes fixed on the advancing forces. “If need be, I’ll deal with the titan.” A grin flickered across her lips, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Admittedly, I hope I don’t have to, but I will if I can.”

Rava’s ears flicked back, her jaw tightening. She hesitated for only a moment before exhaling slowly, her voice quieter this time. “I wish you didn’t need to.” She turned her head just enough to meet Vivienne’s gaze, something raw and unspoken lingering there. “I know you love violence, but… I don’t want to lose you.”

Vivienne blinked, her smirk faltering for the briefest moment before she chuckled softly, tilting her head. “Oh, sweetheart.” Her voice dropped to a teasing lilt, but there was a warmth beneath it. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

Rava huffed but didn’t pull away. Instead, she straightened her shoulders, lifting her chin as the first volleys of arrows began to fly.

The first volley of arrows darkened the sky, streaking toward the approaching army like a swarm of hungry insects. The Drakthar archers released in unison, their aim steady, their arrows seeking the gaps between armor plates and exposed flesh. Below, the front ranks of the Aegis army raised their shields, the arrows clattering against them in a storm of steel and splintered wood. Some fell, but the tide did not stop.

Vivienne watched from the wall, her tail flicking in anticipation. “They’re disciplined, I’ll give them that,” she murmured.

Rava stood beside her, checking the straps on her gauntlets. “They’re Aegis,” she muttered. “Discipline is their whole thing.”

Ahead, the siege towers loomed over the battlefield, crawling forward at a steady pace, pushed by ranks of soldiers. Behind them, the battering rams lumbered into position, each one flanked by heavily armored guards. The Dawn Titan kept pace with the army, her massive form casting a long shadow across the field. Even from this distance, it was clear she was injured—her movements stiff, a faint stagger in her step.

Vivienne clicked her tongue. “She’s struggling.”

Rava followed her gaze, ears twitching. “She’s still on her feet.”

“Yeah,” Vivienne admitted, rolling her shoulders. “But she won’t be for long if she gets any ideas about tearing down these walls.”

Rava exhaled sharply. “I hate this part,” she muttered, shifting her stance.

Vivienne turned to her, tilting her head. “The battle?”

“The waiting.”

Vivienne’s grin widened. “Oh, sweetheart, watch and learn.”

She took a slow step forward, rolling her shoulders, and then—she sang.

It wasn’t a song with words. It was a reverberating, resonant hum that echoed across the battlefield, cutting through the clash of steel and the marching of thousands. It was a sound that did not belong in this world—something deeper, something older. Even Vivienne was momentarily startled by how far it carried, how it drowned out the twang of loosed arrows, the distant war cries, the heavy footfalls of soldiers in formation.

The shadows around her stirred.

From the cracks in the stone, from the places the sun had not yet touched, shades crawled into existence. Wraithlike figures, shifting and flickering, writhing as though they had just been roused from an ancient slumber. Their forms twisted in unnatural ways, slipping through the walls, sinking into the ground, phasing through solid stone as if it was no more than mist.

Vivienne inhaled, feeling them—knowing them.

It was instinct, pure and simple, as if these creatures were not separate from her but rather limbs she had not yet realized she could move. And so she moved them.

The shades slithered downward, slipping into the earth beneath the battlefield, unseen, unnoticed. Vivienne guided them with the ease of thought, threading them beneath the enemy advance. She could feel them passing under boots, under heavy siege towers, under the monstrous battering rams that threatened to break their defenses.

Then she struck.

The first sign of something amiss was the sudden, jarring shrieks from below. Soldiers pushing the siege towers suddenly lurched as grasping, clawed hands burst from the ground, curling around ankles, yanking them down. Some stumbled, some fell outright, tripping over one another as they fought against unseen attackers.

The battering ram halted for a fraction of a second as several of its pushers were wrenched backward, their armor scraping against the dirt as shadowy talons dragged them away. Others screamed, slashing at the figures, but the shades merely phased through them, flickering like distorted echoes.

Vivienne exhaled slowly, her song never faltering. The connection was there, alive, a pulsing rhythm between her and the creatures she commanded. This—this—was something new. Something thrilling.

She turned her head slightly, flashing Rava a grin. “You’re still watching, right?”

As Vivienne's song rippled through the air, the shadows around her obeyed with seamless precision, darting beneath the earth and reappearing in flashes of dark motion. Whenever a soldier turned, sword raised, to strike at the creeping wraiths, they simply flickered away, vanishing back into the soil and reappearing at another inconvenient spot. The soldiers’ frustration grew as they lashed out at nothing but empty air, and Vivienne’s smile deepened.

More and more wraiths emerged, emerging from cracks and crevices in the earth, darting between the enemy forces with swift, unnatural ease. The soldiers pushing the siege towers stumbled, falling over one another as the shadows grabbed at their legs, tripped them, pulled them to the ground. The battering rams slowed under the chaos, and the towers lurched unsteadily as their operators struggled to regain control. Every step forward was now an effort, each advance slowed by the invisible forces under Vivienne’s command.

She allowed herself a moment of satisfaction, watching the enemy’s lines buckle, their focus splintering. But it wouldn’t last.

The exomancers within the ranks began to notice the unusual disturbances. There was a flicker of motion from the enemy backline, and the air around them shifted as they began casting—sharp, cutting spells aimed directly at the wraiths.

Vivienne felt the pull of the earth shift beneath her feet as some of her shades faltered, their forms momentarily disrupted by the crackling energy. A wraith screeched in pain before being vaporized into nothingness, and another popped out of existence.

But Vivienne wasn’t worried. She had more than enough power to withstand this.

She had feasted the night before, drained the life from the unlucky souls who had crossed her path—and with that feast, her reserves were practically limitless. She closed her eyes for a moment, focusing, and her voice surged with a renewed, haunting resonance. Her wraiths returned, pouring out from every crack in the stone, from the edges of shadows, from beneath her feet. More emerged, flooding the battlefield like a tide of darkness.

The soldiers reeled back as the number of wraiths swelled. The spellcasters grew frantic, throwing spells in every direction, trying to stop the flood, but their efforts only seemed to thin the ranks of the wraiths temporarily. They were everywhere—suddenly in the trees, then underneath the walls, then curling up from beneath the feet of the soldiers. For every wraith destroyed, two more replaced it. The siege engines halts, their pushers slipping, tripping, dragged down by the unseen forces of the shadows. The momentum of the enemy’s advance had been broken.

But Vivienne’s triumph was short-lived. Even as she reveled in her control, the sight before her grew more concerning. For each soldier that fell, another took their place, an endless tide that seemed impossible to halt completely. Their numbers were relentless, and she could feel the weight of that realization beginning to press down on her.

The Dawn Titan was nearing, a giant looming at the edge of the battlefield, each of its heavy steps shaking the ground beneath. The wraiths faltered at the sheer presence of such a force, their movements growing erratic. Vivienne narrowed her eyes, tracking the titan’s advance, but she was distracted by the sudden, explosive roar in the distance.

She whipped her head toward the sound, her heart leaping at the unexpected eruption of flames. The blast was immense, a surge of fire that tore through the battlefield and painted the sky with a brilliant, hellish light. Vivienne squinted, trying to make sense of it as the titan ahead of her seemed to writhe from the impact, as though struck by a blow from something colossal.

Her thoughts snapped into focus.

Steel belchers? She mused, a grim understanding blooming in her chest. Those powerful siege engines were known for their devastating impact, capable of unleashing destruction with pinpoint accuracy. The titan’s defensive posture wavered, the colossal figure of dawn flickering as if torn apart by the blast.

If the titan was being hit with those, then there was still hope. The enemy may have been relentless, but perhaps the titan’s strength could be diminished enough to turn the tide. Her smile returned, but it was colder now, more dangerous. The real battle hadn’t even begun yet.

She turned her attention back to the frontlines, where her wraiths still moved in swarming shadows, causing havoc and confusion. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that the enemy’s true weapon—their real force—had yet to show its hand. And if the titan had fallen so easily to a well-placed strike, then she couldn’t afford to let her guard down.

Another explosion rattled the air, shaking the very ground beneath her feet. Vivienne’s eyes snapped to the titan in the distance, who staggered once more as the blast struck true. Her massive form lurched, knees buckling slightly, and she collapsed to one knee, her swordstaff planted into the earth as a stabilizing force. Smoke curled from the titan’s frame, and the giant’s labored breaths were evident even from this far away.

Vivienne’s gaze drifted to the left, where she saw the smoking barrel of a cannon. The crew was reloading quickly, preparing for another shot. The steel belchers were causing more damage than she’d anticipated. The Dawn Titan was powerful, but even she could be worn down by such concentrated firepower.

The distraction caused Vivienne’s focus to waver for a brief moment, her grip on the song loosening. Her connection to the wraiths flickered, and their movements slowed, losing the sharpness they once had. Her eyes narrowed, a growl threatening to leave her throat as she pulled her attention back to her song, refocusing. I can’t afford distractions right now.

Her voice rose once more, resonating through the battlefield, and the shadows around her shifted with renewed purpose. The wraiths, summoned from beneath the earth, surged forward in waves, their dark forms swarming over the enemy ranks. Soldiers tripped, fell, and were dragged into the dirt by the relentless swarm. Vivienne’s song created an unholy harmony between her and the shadows, pulling her wraiths into place like extensions of her own body.

But despite their numbers, the soldiers pushed on, fighting back with their own ferocity. For every soldier that was knocked down, another took their place, and the wraiths were picked off in droves. It wasn’t an endless tide of soldiers; they were vulnerable, but their sheer numbers were enough to make Vivienne’s power feel like a candle in a storm. The wraiths, though effective, weren’t strong enough to hold the line forever.

Vivienne could feel it—a steady drain on her energy. I’m not burning through my aether too quickly, but I know I can’t keep this pace forever. The wraiths were weak, ephemeral beings, and their destruction came as quickly as their creation. She could hear the faint strains of their disintegration, the clashing of steel, the cries of soldiers as they tried to regain control.

Her grip on her magic tightened, even as the effort weighed on her. I need to be smarter, she thought. She wasn’t used to planning in battle; she preferred the raw, immediate rush of instinct, the wild energy of chaos. But now, with the endless tide of soldiers and the looming presence of the Dawn Titan, she knew she had to think ahead.

Let a few siege towers through, she thought, her mind spinning rapidly. Just the ones nearest to me. I’ll switch forms and feed while they’re distracted. I can keep the flow of my magic going while I heal and power up for the next wave. The thought was tactical and calculated, but it didn’t sit perfectly well with her instincts. It felt... safe.

Safe was a foreign concept when it came to battle.

Her wraiths continued to rise, their numbers beginning to thin as the soldiers grew more vigilant, but she wasn’t concerned. The tide was still in her favor—for now. Another few moments, and she could strike from the shadows again. But first, she needed a better position. She needed to gather her strength.

The advancing siege towers drew nearer, their hulking forms growing closer to the wall. Vivienne let the nearest one approach, and then, without warning, her claws flexed as she prepared to strike.

She wasn’t going to let the wall fall. Not today. Not if she had anything to say about it.