Mother of Midnight

Chapter 228 – Oaths Unkept, Paths Unclear

Before any celebrations could commence, the goblins were herded into a dimly lit waiting room, their chatter echoing softly against the stone walls. Meanwhile, Vivienne, Rava, Tarric, and Caelum wound their way through the labyrinthine corridors leading to Korriva’s office. Vivienne's heart ached with the desire to simply unwind and spend time with her daughter, but pressing matters demanded her attention.

Tarric rapped gently on the heavy oak door. After a moment, a voice called out in confirmation, and the group stepped inside. Korriva, a formidable presence with sharp, discerning eyes, was engrossed in scribbling on a parchment. Her quill scratched rhythmically, and she only looked up when she finished, a minute later.

"You've returned, and it seems you've brought some additional company," the imposing lekine stated in a measured tone, her gaze sweeping over the newcomers. "Hello again, Rava, Vivienne." She nodded respectfully to each of them, her presence both commanding and reassuring.

"Who are you?" Rava inquired, her voice tinged with confusion.

Both Korriva and Vivienne raised an eyebrow in surprise. Vivienne felt a pang of sorrow, realizing the extent of Rava's memory loss—so profound that she didn't even recognize her own mother.

"Your mother." Korriva's voice cut through the air like a blade. If there was any pain from the question, it lay buried beneath her impassive exterior. "In fact, since Vivienne has returned, perhaps she could enlighten me on what happened?" Korriva's gaze bore into Vivienne with a ferocity that could have withered the strongest of souls, yet the petite woman stood unyielding.

"She died. In my arms." Vivienne's voice quivered, heavy with the burden of the haunting memory, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I tried desperately to save her, pouring every ounce of ambient aether I could muster into her, willing her to hold on, but... it was futile. In an instant, she simply disintegrated into aether, vanishing from my grasp."

“Wait, that’s what happened? She really died? No wait, how were you giving her aether?” Tarric asked, his voice a mix of disbelief and curiosity, eyes wide as he leaned closer.

Vivienne shrugged, a faint, resigned smile tugging at her lips. “I’ve discovered that I can transfer aether to others. I figured if I could take it, I could just as easily give it back. But sometimes, even that isn't enough.”

Korriva’s expression remained unreadable, though a flicker of something—concern, curiosity—passed through her sharp eyes. Her gaze drifted to Rava, scrutinizing her daughter with an intensity that made the air feel heavier.

“And yet, here she stands,” Korriva murmured, folding her hands atop her desk. “Stronger. Different. Changed in ways I suspect even she doesn’t fully understand.”

Rava crossed her arms, her expression wary. “I am strong. Still don’t remember you.”

Korriva’s ear twitched slightly, the only indication of emotion breaking through her composed exterior. “No, I suppose you don’t,” she said simply, though there was a weight to the words, something unsaid lingering beneath them. For a moment, her gaze softened—just barely—before her expression returned to its usual impassive mask. She turned her attention to Tarric, her sharp eyes pinning him in place.

“I understand why you called the family together,” she said, fingers steepled against the desk.

Tarric nodded, rocking on his heels with a thoughtful hum. “Yeah, it’s real bad. She still recognizes people to an extent, but I think it depends on how emotionally connected to them she was. She knew Vivienne right away, but you?” He shrugged. “Nothing.”

Korriva’s lips pressed into a thin line.

“Now that I’m back,” Tarric continued, “I might work on some solutions for her memory. See if there’s a way to—” He paused, his brow furrowing as if mentally flipping through ideas. “I dunno, re-anchor her or something.”

Korriva exhaled slowly. “Very well. Do what you can.”

She turned her gaze to the newcomer in the room, her sharp scrutiny settling on Caelum like a weight. “Now, can you explain to me why a paladin of Praxus is in my office?” Her tone remained level, but there was a blade hidden beneath it, an unspoken warning. “A Champion, no less?”

Tarric grinned. “This guy has just as much, if not more, of an issue with Aegis than we do. And he’s not a paladin or a Champion of Praxus, either.” He gave Caelum a nudge with his elbow. “Go on, introduce yourself.”

Vivienne shifted, watching the young man with quiet curiosity. Caelum straightened his posture, brushing imaginary dust from his armor before stepping forward. His movements were smooth but deliberate, a warrior’s grace tempered by humility. He placed a hand over his chest and bowed his head slightly.

“I am Caelum, champion of Yenhr. I am inexperienced, but I will do my best to fight against the Sovereignty of Aegis.”

Korriva’s gaze lingered on him for another second before she dismissed him with the slightest inclination of her head, as though filing away his presence for later judgment.

Tarric, ever the one to cut through tension, clapped Caelum on the shoulder with a grin. “Don’t worry. Mother likes almost nobody when she first meets them unless they prove immediately useful.”

“Tarric.”

“Yes, mother dearest?”

“Shush.”

He chuckled, entirely unbothered. “Still haven’t given my report for the village nor the border, by the way.”

Korriva waved a dismissive hand. “You can report that to Narek. I will read it later.” Her piercing gaze shifted to Vivienne, her posture subtly tightening. “I am more interested in the state of Drakthar. Since Ravanyr is unable to do so, I want you to tell me.”

Vivienne’s jaw clenched, and she worried her lower lip between her teeth. That had not been a good day. She could still hear the clash of steel, the screams of the dying, the hollow roar of the Dawn Giant.

“Aegis deployed over twenty thousand soldiers,” she said at last, voice even despite the weight behind it. “Alongside them was the Dawn Giant. Vailora, as promised, held her off and defeated her.”

Korriva’s gaze sharpened. “But it still fell.”

Vivienne exhaled through her nose, nodding. “Yes. The number of enemy combatants was too overwhelming—or it was, for a while. They breached the city after the Dawn Giant threw me through the wall.” She caught the way several expressions in the room shifted, brows raising, quiet understanding flickering across faces. She moved on before any questions could be asked. “We retreated deeper into the city. Rava and I managed to stem much of the tide, and we likely would have pushed them out entirely if not for a Champion showing up.”

Korriva leaned forward slightly, her fingers steepled beneath her chin. “Did Sirasyr’s Champion finally join the fight?”

Vivienne frowned. “Don’t know who that is, but no. Praxus has a new Champion.” She crossed her arms. “Zerathiel. He looks human but has machine parts integrated into his body. His wings are made entirely of dawn aether.”

Silence settled in the room for a moment, heavy with the implications. Korriva’s expression remained unreadable, but Vivienne didn’t miss the way her fingers tightened against each other.

“A new Champion of Praxus,” Korriva murmured. “That’s troubling. He should still have one more.”

“Only one?” Korriva’s tone was sharp, probing for more.

Tarric nodded grimly. “Darius fell in battle. Assassinated by one of his own, we presume. Kavren was disappointed by the outcome.”

Vivienne clicked her tongue in irritation. “Shame. I wanted to eat him.”

“Continue,” Korriva said, her expression unchanging.

“Of course.” Vivienne’s arms tightened across her chest. “Zerathiel was the one who killed Rava. He nearly split her in half.” A growl crept into her voice, the memory clawing its way to the surface. “He was far too fast and too powerful for me. Had he been slower, I would have torn that angelic bastard apart myself.”

There was a flicker of something in Korriva’s eyes—disapproval, perhaps, or frustration. “And after that?”

Vivienne exhaled sharply. “After Rava died in my arms, I blacked out.”

Korriva’s fingers tapped once against her desk. “So you don’t have any idea how the city fell?”

“No,” Vivienne admitted. Then, a thought struck her. “But Renzia or Kivvy might know.”

Korriva’s brow arched slightly. “The mannequin and the goblin?”

Vivienne nodded. 

“Tarric, fetch them,” Korriva ordered, her tone leaving no room for discussion.

“As you wish, mother dearest.” Tarric gave an exaggerated bow before turning on his heel and slipping out the door, leaving an unsettling silence in his wake.

The weight of Korriva’s gaze settled on Vivienne like a tangible force, pressing down with quiet scrutiny. Her sharp eyes flicked over Vivienne’s posture, the set of her jaw, the stillness in her expression. Finally, she spoke.

“You’ve changed.”

Vivienne tilted her head slightly, black eyes gleaming in the dim light. “How so?”

Korriva leaned forward, lacing her fingers together atop the desk. “You haven’t tried to push your luck even once during this meeting. No snide remarks, no veiled barbs, no attempts to see if you can make me snap at you.” She studied Vivienne for a beat longer before adding, “And more than that, it feels like whatever was keeping you constrained before… isn’t anymore.”

Vivienne’s lips parted slightly before pressing together in quiet contemplation. A slow, knowing smile curled at the edges of her mouth. “I suppose,” she mused, her voice light yet carrying an undercurrent of something deeper. “Some things come easier to me now.” She tilted her head, her black eyes gleaming with mischief. “Do you want me to try irritating you?”

Korriva’s ear twitched—an almost imperceptible sign of amusement or challenge. “You can try.”

Vivienne’s grin widened, sharp teeth flashing. “Oh, I could try.”

Before the tension could stretch further, the door swung open, and Tarric returned with Kivvy and Renzia in tow. Liora was still nestled in Renzia’s arms, and Vivienne wasted no time in stepping forward, her arms outstretched. Renzia carefully transferred the little girl to her mother’s embrace, and Vivienne cradled her close, her expression softening instantly.

Korriva’s gaze flicked to her son. “Thank you, Tarric.” Then, her sharp eyes settled on the child in Vivienne’s arms. “And who is the little one?”

Vivienne’s expression turned warm, maternal, as she gazed down at Liora. “This is Liora. She didn’t handle captivity quite as well as I did.”

Liora’s eyes darted to Korriva, lingering for only a moment before shifting back to her mother. She remained quiet, but Vivienne stroked her hair reassuringly. “She’s getting better, though,” she added, her voice firm with quiet resolve.

“I don’t recall you leaving with a child, nor mentioning her before you left,” Korriva remarked, her tone neutral, though her sharp eyes lingered on Liora with the weight of silent scrutiny.

Vivienne only smiled, a quiet, almost smug warmth in her expression as she kissed the top of Liora’s head. “She was a happy surprise along the journey.” The tenderness in her voice was unmistakable, her fingers gently stroking through Liora’s hair as the girl curled a little closer into her embrace.

“I see,” Korriva said, her expression unreadable, betraying nothing of her thoughts. Whether she was merely absorbing the information or silently assessing the implications, Vivienne couldn’t tell. “So you were imprisoned?”

Vivienne nodded. “I don’t know for how long, a few months, I believe. I bided my time. The boy there—” She clicked her tongue as if it were painful to admit and pointed at Caelum, “assisted with our breakout.”

Korriva’s gaze shifted, cool and calculating as she scanned the gathered individuals. “I see. Which one is Kivvy?”

There was a brief pause before Kivvy hesitantly raised her hand. “Uhh… that would be me, my lord,” she said, her voice tinged with nervousness. Despite her usual energy, the weight of Korriva’s attention bore down on her, and she shrank slightly, ears twitching as she resisted the urge to fidget.

Korriva’s eyes locked onto Kivvy with an intensity that made the goblin straighten on instinct, though her fingers twitched at her sides. “Vivienne says you might have more insight into what happened in Drakthar.”

Kivvy swallowed hard. “Uhh… yeah. Yeah, I was there for the whole thing. I saw—” She hesitated, glancing at Vivienne before continuing. “I saw how it a lot of it played out.”

“Go on.”

Kivvy cleared her throat, trying to steady her nerves as she thought back to the chaos of Drakthar. “Well, I was in the city for most of it, in the castle… or clan hall, or whatever you call it.” She paused, as if uncertain of the right words, her eyes briefly flicking to Vivienne before continuing. “I was on the wall, fighting Aegis with my burnstick. We were holding them off for a bit, but then...” Kivvy trailed off, a frown creasing her brow as she tried to recall the chaotic moments. “Then… I think Vivienne got big. Real big. At least, it looked

like Vivienne. She turned into that weird, glowing goo, and—”Vivienne's lips quirked upward at the mention of the strange transformation, a flash of pride gleaming in her eyes as she raised her arm. In a fluid, almost practiced motion, she shifted the arm into a translucent tentacle, its surface rippling with prismatic light as it slithered out from her side, coiling with an unsettling fluidity.

“Did it look like this?” Vivienne asked, her voice tinged with curiosity, her new appendage shimmering in the dim light of the room. The tentacle twisted in the air, its edges forming delicate, almost crystalline patterns as it moved.

Kivvy’s wide eyes were locked on the shifting appendage, her mouth slightly agape as she tried to process the unnatural sight before her. Her throat tightened, the weight of the memory settling heavy in her chest. “Yeah… yeah, that’s it. But, like… more… big,” she stammered, her voice trembling a little, still rattled by the bizarre vision. “It wasn’t just your arm, it was, like… all of you. You were everywhere. You kept getting bigger in the direction of the enemy. You swallowed everything.”

Vivienne’s lips curled upward in a small, knowing smile, but her eyes were fixed on Kivvy, waiting for more. “Ah,” she said, her tone a bit distant.

Kivvy didn’t seem reassured by the lack of urgency in Vivienne’s response. Her gaze faltered, and she hurried on. “Yeah. It was terrifying. I saw this golden streak in the sky and it starved, carving bits off you. They just disappeared before they even hit the ground.” Her hands moved in tight, shaky gestures as she tried to describe the strange and terrifying experience. “When I couldn’t see you anymore, half the city was gone. Like… gone gone. No buildings, no snow, no soldiers. Anyone in that half—gone. Even when the Drakthar side faltered, there were way fewer humans left. Still enough for the golden man to capture the rest of the city, though. And, well…” She looked down briefly, the weight of it all sinking back in. “I got marched back to Aegis soon after that.”

Korriva’s thoughtful silence stretched on, her expression unreadable. She tapped her fingers on the arm of her chair, eyes narrowing slightly as she processed Kivvy’s account. The room hung heavy with anticipation before she finally spoke. “I see.” She glanced at Vivienne, a sharp edge creeping into her voice as she asked, “Vivienne, does that make you a threat to my city?”

Vivienne didn’t hesitate, her shrug casual, almost too calm for the subject at hand. “Only if you kill someone I care about,” she replied with a cool, unwavering certainty, her voice leaving no room for misinterpretation. The air in the room seemed to thicken, the tension rising just enough to feel like a tangible weight.

Korriva’s gaze flicked to her son, her expression calm yet expectant. “Tarric, I would like your opinion.”

Tarric didn’t hesitate. He folded his arms and considered Vivienne for a moment, his sharp eyes scanning her like he was piecing together a puzzle. “I think, while she is here, she is not a threat,” he said evenly. “Though she clearly needs guidance on her power. It’s as if her goddess doesn’t guide her at all.”

Vivienne barked with laughter, the sound abrupt and sharp, like a blade scraping against stone. “I won’t say that’s wrong,” she said, amusement flickering across her face. Her black eyes gleamed as she leaned back, tail curling lazily behind her. “Akhenna doesn’t speak to me.”

Korriva tilted her head slightly, observing Vivienne with quiet intensity. "A goddess who does not guide her chosen," she mused, her voice like a low growl of thunder. "That is either a failing… or more likely a deliberate choice."

Vivienne smirked, but there was no humor in it. "Maybe she’s just as curious to see what I’ll do on my own. In fact that is what I put the most stock in. I know I am just entertainment for her."

Tarric huffed, shifting his weight. "Regardless, it means you’re figuring out your abilities blind. You said you can transfer aether—have you tested the limits of that?"

Vivienne’s tail twitched, and she tilted her head in thought. “Not entirely. I know I can force it into someone, though whether that strengthens or overloads them depends. It… didn’t save Rava, but I can summon creatures with my aether.”

Korriva steepled her fingers. "That may be a power worth refining. The ability to summon armies has historically been a powerful one. Though, if your power is unchecked, it could be a double-edged sword."

“I’ll manage,” Vivienne said with a dismissive flick of her hand. "I always do."

Korriva exhaled sharply through her nose. “Overconfidence can be a weakness.”

Vivienne grinned. “And so can hesitation.”

Rava watched the exchange, her glowing blue eyes flicking between them. “My mate is strong, not weak.”

Korriva’s ear twitched, but she let their comments slide, her gaze sweeping over the gathered group before settling once more. “Fine,” she said, her tone clipped, though there was no real frustration in it. “I believe we are done here anyway, unless any of you have anything else to report?”

A brief silence followed as the others exchanged glances. Tarric shifted his weight, considering for a moment, then shook his head. Rava gave a short grunt of disinterest, while Vivienne simply smirked, already turning toward the door. The goblins, if they had any thoughts at all, kept them to themselves, content to remain unnoticed in the exchange.

“Good.” Korriva’s voice carried finality. “All of you are dismissed.” Then, just as the others started moving, her eyes snapped to Caelum. “Except you.”

Caelum stopped mid-step, blinking in mild surprise before turning back to face her. His expression, though cautious, held no protest. “Alright,” he said evenly, offering a small nod.

Korriva’s stare lingered on him, assessing, as the others filed out. Tarric cast Caelum a sidelong glance before leaving without a word, and Rava didn’t bother looking back. Vivienne, however, paused just before the door, her tail flicking once before she leaned slightly toward Caelum.

"Good luck, darling." She murmured, amusement lacing her tone, before stepping out into the corridor.

The heavy wooden door groaned as it swung shut behind them, leaving Caelum alone with Korriva.