Mother of Midnight

Chapter 204 – Clandestine

“How would you know that name?” Vivienne’s voice was cautious, her five black eyes narrowing slightly. Names had power, and the fact that he spoke this one so casually set her on edge.

Caelum met her gaze without hesitation, his expression calm, almost serene. “My goddess whispered it to me.”

Vivienne stilled. That wasn’t the answer she had expected. “Your goddess speaks to you?” Her brows knit together, confusion flickering across her face. “I’ve only met mine twice.” And each time had been… profound. Unnerving. Not something that happened lightly.

“She does, frequently.” Caelum’s voice took on a certain softness, his eyes distant, as though he were listening even now. “She is my warmth in the cold.” There was reverence there, the kind that ran bone-deep. She didn’t like it.

Why would gods care about mortals?

Vivienne pushed the thought aside and leaned forward, her tail twitching behind her. “Well? There’s more, isn’t there?” Impatience laced her voice.

Caelum nodded. “Indeed. Apparently, she was also captured and brought here. She is also planning a rebellion, and my goddess doesn’t think it will end too well.”

Vivienne chewed on her lower lip, the sharp points of her hidden teeth pressing against the inside of her mouth. Every instinct in her screamed to act now. To tear through whatever walls stood in her way and get Liora out before Aegis had the chance to break her. But she wasn’t about to abandon one of the few people she truly cared about either. Not after what she had learned about their life.

She let out a low, rumbling growl. The more she heard of Aegis, the more she was convinced the entire empire deserved to be burned to the ground. Every last inch of it.

“Do you know where she is?” Her voice was tight, coiled with tension.

Caelum didn’t hesitate. “Bottom tier, northern side, in an underground workshop.”

Vivienne looked at her daughter with knitted brows. “We get Liora out first, then we rescue Kivvy.” She turned to Renzia. “I am going to trust you once more to look after my daughter. You must avoid being seen and being captured at all costs.”

Renzia bowed. “Yes miss-tress.”

Vvienne turned on her heel and beckoned the rest to follow. Fortunately, the wild part of the city they found themselves in went up to the wall. She carefully handed Liora over to Renzia who cradled the girl and then shifted into her drider form. She took back her daughter and motioned to her spider half. 

“Get on Renzia. Caelum, I will be back shortly.”

He nodded and Renzia got on her abdomen. She then climbed vertically up the wall in the darkness. She stopped just before the top and poked her head up. She pulled back down when she saw a trio of guards walk in her direction.

She eased her head over the edge, only to duck back down as a trio of guards passed by, their boots echoing against the stone.

Vivienne remained perfectly still, counting the seconds as the guards' footsteps faded into the night. When she was certain they were far enough, she scuttled over the wall’s edge, moving with practiced speed and precision. Her legs clicked softly against the stone as she descended the other side, dropping into the shadowy expanse below.

Ahead, the land stretched open—wide, empty fields dusted with snow. The nearest tree line loomed in the distance, but between here and there lay farmsteads and open ground. No cover. No safety. She had to be fast.

Without hesitation, Vivienne broke into a sprint, her eight legs striking the frozen earth, leaving shallow imprints in the snow. Every second spent out in the open was a second closer to being seen.

Minutes passed in tense silence, but no alarm rang out, no voices cried in pursuit. They reached the forest’s edge without incident. Only then did Vivienne slow, coming to a halt beneath the skeletal canopy of winter-bare trees.

“Get off,” she ordered.

Renzia dismounted immediately, landing lightly in the snow. Vivienne turned to face her.

“Do not get seen. Do not get caught. If something happens—run. We’ll meet two hou— a bell east of here.”

Renzia dipped her head. “Yes, miss-tress.”

Vivienne hesitated. Just for a moment. Her daughter was silent in her arms, still wrapped in the weight of everything that had happened. She hated leaving her like this. But there was no other choice.

With a reluctant sigh, she carefully handed Liora over.

“I’ll be back within the day. Hopefully.” She reached out, brushing a hand over Liora’s tangled hair before pulling away. “Goodbye.”

When she finally reached the spot where she’d left Caelum, he was waiting as promised, standing just beyond the line of trees where the moonlight cast long, shifting shadows. Vivienne slowed, taking a deep breath, her form shifting back into the guise of Uuna. The familiar weight of the disguise settled comfortably around her as if it had always been her.

“Can you lead me to this workshop?” she asked, her voice still a little breathless.

Caelum nodded, not a word needed.

They moved quickly, silently, slipping through the moonlit streets of Aegis. The city was eerily quiet at this hour. Most people were holed up inside, warm in their beds or hiding in the safety of their homes. Vivienne kept to the shadows, every step calculated, every motion swift.

As they passed empty alleyways and winding lanes, she felt the weight of the silence hanging over them. There was no telling when dawn would come, she’d been in that prison far too long. The moon cast an unnatural glow, washing over the cobblestones, but she couldn’t afford to let the night slip away. Her instincts screamed at her to hurry—this had to be done under cover of darkness. The longer they waited, the greater the risk.

Worst comes to worst, I can split up with Caelum. We'll meet elsewhere.

But something about the thought of splitting up unsettled her. She frowned, brushing the feeling aside. Why do I care if we meet up again?

The thought lingered for a moment, but she shook it away. She didn’t have time to dwell on such things. They were allies. Temporary allies. Nothing more.

As they moved, she observed him in a way she hadn’t before. Caelum moved with a quiet grace, as if he had been born to navigate the shadows of Aegis. What struck her most, though, was the way he seemed so… certain.

She had only spoken with her goddess, Akhenna, twice—on two occasions that felt more like fleeting encounters than true guidance. Akhenna had been distant, enigmatic. But Caelum? He was the embodiment of his goddess’s will. Every step, every movement, every decision seemed to flow from her divine whisper. It was unsettling.

Vivienne had always thought the gods were distant, almost cold in their dealings with mortals. But this? The connection Caelum had with Yenhr—it was different. It was palpable. Real.

I don’t know anything about Yenhr, Vivienne mused, her thoughts drifting. Maybe Akhenna just doesn’t care about me the way Yenhr cares for him.

Her pace quickened. She didn’t like these thoughts. They felt dangerous, like the seed of something she couldn’t quite understand.

They passed a few people as they made their way through the dark streets, the glow of the moon casting long shadows across the cobblestones. Most of the pedestrians gave them only fleeting glances—nothing more than the usual hurried, tired faces that lived under the weight of Aegis. Vivienne’s guise of Uuna seemed to work well enough, her robes flowing gracefully around her, giving off an air of nobility. The deep black fabric shimmered faintly in the moonlight, and the intricate designs along the hem glowed subtly, lending her a semblance of rank.

But, though their presence stirred little more than a passing look, it didn’t take long before their quiet journey was interrupted. A figure stumbled into their path, the smell of alcohol on his breath strong enough to sting the air. A man—middle-aged, balding, with ragged clothes clinging to his thin frame. He was swaying slightly, a hand gripped around a half-finished bottle of something strong.

“Oi!” he slurred, his voice loud in the silence of the night. “You two look like you’ve got a fancy stroll goin’ on. Where ya headin' in such a hurry, eh? Need a guide? A friend, maybe?”

Vivienne tensed immediately, ready to brandish her claws at any given moment. Caelum stepped forward, his posture rigid, his expression unreadable. It was clear he wasn’t fond of interruptions. The man didn’t seem to notice or care, his eyes darting from Vivienne to Caelum and back.

“No need to be coy, love. I’m just lookin’ to make some new friends,” the drunk man continued, his words slurred but his tone more aggressive now. He staggered a little closer, leaning too heavily on the bottle. “Maybe I could walk ya both to wherever you’re goin’? We could—”

Before he could finish, the sound of a distant voice interrupted him, and then another set of footsteps, slower but deliberate. Several more figures emerged from the shadows. Vivienne’s senses sharpened immediately, every muscle in her body coiling like a spring. It was too late to turn back now. She could feel the threat creeping in.

Caelum was the first to speak, his voice soft but steady. “You’re disturbing us. Go back to your corner.”

The drunken man blinked, clearly confused for a moment, and then he scowled. “Who do you think you are, huh? Giving me orders? I’ll teach ya some respect!”

The bottle swung toward Caelum, aimed with little precision but enough force to make Vivienne’s hackles rise. She wasn’t about to let this go further.

Her hand shot out, quick as a whip, and grasped the man’s wrist just as the bottle was about to collide with Caelum’s face. The man yelped, trying to pull away, but Vivienne’s grip was unyielding.

“Enough,” she said, her voice cold. Her eyes flashed with a dangerous gleam, and the man’s drunken bravado seemed to falter for a moment, his expression flickering with fear.

“You would dare strike a paladin of Praxus?” she said, her tone hardening as she summoned as much authority as she could muster.

The man’s face drained of color at the mention of the god’s name. He staggered back, dropping the bottle, which shattered with a sharp crack against the cobblestones. The words clearly had the intended effect. Fear replaced his earlier aggression, his body trembling as he scanned Vivienne’s face for any sign that she was lying.

“I-I didn’t mean no harm,” he stammered, his voice suddenly panicked. “I was just—just lookin’ for someone to talk to! Didn’t know you was—”

Vivienne didn’t let him finish. “Then move along. Quickly.” Her voice was icy, an unspoken threat hanging in the air. She kept her grip on his wrist for a moment longer, ensuring he understood that she wasn’t to be trifled with.

The man swallowed hard, eyes wide with terror now. He didn’t argue. Instead, he nodded frantically, backing away from them, his hands raised in surrender.

“Y-Yeah, right. I’ll go. I’m goin’,” he muttered, his steps quick and uneven as he retreated into the shadows. A few more stumbles, and he disappeared into the night, his presence now nothing more than a fading memory.

Vivienne didn’t release her stance right away. Her gaze remained sharp, scanning the darkened streets for any sign of a new threat, but it seemed the drunken man was the only disturbance for now. She slowly let her hand fall to her side, turning toward Caelum.

“How much further?” Vivienne asked, her voice edged with impatience as she glanced around the dark, empty streets.

“It’s under the next block. There’s an entrance in the back of the workshop,” Caelum replied, his gaze scanning the surroundings.

Vivienne gave him a side-eye. “Your goddess sure tells you a lot, doesn’t she?”

Caelum frowned, his expression tightening slightly. “Doesn’t yours?”

Vivienne barked a laugh, the sound sharp in the still air. She shook her head, the irony not lost on her. “My goddess threw me into the deep without so much as a ‘good luck.’” She paused, her lips curling slightly as she thought back to those first moments of her power awakening. “In fact, the only time I’ve spoken to her since I first met her was after I killed a champion. Once I could feel her will pressing against me when I was deciding on... Never mind.” She exhaled sharply, rolling her shoulders in frustration. “She probably doesn’t care if I live or die.”

Caelum didn’t respond immediately, and Vivienne could feel the weight of her words settling between them. She hadn’t meant to spill that much, but sometimes the truth slipped out when she wasn’t paying attention. It wasn’t as if Akhenna had ever offered any real guidance or comfort, after all.

Caelum seemed to sense her unease and slowed his pace, his voice softening. “I can’t speak for your goddess, but... my goddess does care. She’s always been there when I needed her. I’ve never felt alone in her service.”

Vivienne’s eyes narrowed, a flicker of something she couldn’t quite place passing through her chest. So he believes that, does he? She wasn’t sure what to think of it, but it irked her more than she expected.

They came to a stop in front of a large store, its windows lined with trinkets and gadgets, the flickering glow of lanterns illuminating a chaotic display of brass gears, intricate clockwork devices, and strange, polished stones. The air hummed with a quiet, mechanical pulse, as though the store itself were alive, its many artifacts all crafted with a precision that suggested more than simple decoration.

Vivienne studied the store with a critical eye, her gaze drifting over the array of strange items. There were no obvious signs of danger, but the faintest feeling of unease lingered in the back of her mind. How much of this is truly innocent?

Caelum stepped closer to the door, his hands tucked into his robes, his expression unreadable. “Under this store,” he confirmed, his voice low.

They rounded the corner into the narrow alley behind the store, the dead of night cloaking them in shadow. The only sounds were the crunch of snow beneath their boots and the distant murmur of the city beyond.

Vivienne stopped in front of a heavy iron door set low into the foundation. A thick chain wrapped around the handles, secured with a sturdy lock. Shifted her hands and ran her claws along the cold metal, exhaling a plume of mist into the air.

“This leads underground?” she asked.

Caelum nodded. “Directly to the workshop.”

She didn’t waste time. Wrapping her fingers around the lock, she squeezed. Metal groaned, warped, then shattered with a sharp snap. The broken pieces hit the ground, half-buried in the snow. She pulled the chain loose and tossed it aside.

Caelum tried the handle, but the door barely shifted. “Barred from the other side.”

Vivienne scowled. Typical.

“Move.”

He stepped back as she planted both hands against the door. With a sharp breath, she pushed. The frame rattled, the wood bracing it straining against her strength. She dug her claws in, pressed harder—then crack. The bar inside splintered, and the door groaned open.

Cold, stale air drifted up from the stairway beyond. The scent of oil and metal lingered in the darkness below.

Caelum glanced at her. “Ready?”

Vivienne didn’t answer. She was already descending into the darkness, moving with the silent certainty of someone who belonged in the shadows. The stairwell was tight, the stone walls pressing in with damp cold. Aether-powered lamps flickered weakly along the passage, their blue glow casting eerie, shifting shadows.

The underground smelled of oil, metal, and something acrid—burnt aether. But more than that, Vivienne heard movement. Light, quick footsteps, accompanied by the faint jingle of tools or loose metal.

She lifted a hand, signaling Caelum to stop. He obeyed without a word.

Then, from around the corner, a figure appeared—a goblin, small but wiry, dressed in a patchwork of leather and cloth, her sharp eyes widening at the sight of them. She reacted instantly, raising a pistol cobbled together from scrap, aether energy humming in its chamber.

Vivienne barely had time to shift.

The weapon fired with a sharp crack, and a bolt of blue light slammed into her chest. Pain bloomed, spreading through her ribs as the force knocked her back—straight into Caelum. He grunted as he caught her, his boots scraping against the stone as they both staggered.

A hushed voice came from just beyond the corner. “What’s a priestess doin’ down here?”

The goblin holding the pistol didn’t lower it, her grip steady as she watched them.

“Dunno,” another voice whispered, tense. “Make sure they’re dead, or we’re never gettin’ outta here.”

The first goblin raised her weapon again, panic flashing across her face. She squeezed the trigger—

Then hesitated.

Vivienne was already standing. She hadn’t even groaned, hadn’t even stumbled. The hole in her borrowed robes was dark with ichor, but she looked more annoyed than injured.

“Well, that’s this disguise ruined,” she muttered, brushing a hand over the singed fabric.

The goblin’s hesitation was brief. Her grip tightened, and she fired again.

Vivienne was ready this time. She sidestepped, moving just before the pistol discharged. The blue bolt struck the stone wall behind her, leaving behind a sizzling, watermarked dent. Before the goblin could adjust her aim, Vivienne surged forward. Her claws lashed out, snatching the pistol from the smaller woman’s grip with bone-crushing force.

A cry of pain rang through the passage.

Then she felt them. The weight of eyes.

Rounding the corner were more goblins—at least a dozen. Some crouched, some standing, all with weapons trained on her. A patchwork of firearms, each humming faintly with stored energy.

Vivienne tilted her head. “I’d rather you didn’t shoot, darlings.” Her voice was calm, but her grin was razor-edged. “It wouldn’t be a good time for either of us.”

A pause. A murmur.

Then a voice from the group. Sharp. Uncertain.

“Darlings? Is that you, Vivienne?”

"In the flesh."

Vivienne barely had time to brace before Kivvy surged forward, shoving past the other goblins with a single-minded urgency.

Then, unexpectedly, she flung her arms around Vivienne.

Vivienne stiffened. She wasn't expecting this from Kivvy of all people. The goblin barely reached her chest, her grip tight, her small fingers pressing into the fabric of Vivienne’s ruined robes.

"I can't believe you're here!" Kivvy’s voice was muffled against her. Then she pulled back, frowning up at Vivienne. "Why do you look like that? I can't believe I'm saying this, but you look better with the eyes and horns."

Vivienne let out a sharp grin. "I stole a look from one of my tormentors."

The goblin whose gun she had taken—still clutching her bruised wrist—scowled. "Who is she?"

Kivvy turned, gesturing grandly toward Vivienne like she was unveiling some great war machine. "This is Vivienne. An absolutely terrifying monster." She grinned, fangs peeking out. "Also, one of the best people to have for a breakout."