novelraw Chapter 236 – Lazy Shopping Day
Chapter 236 – Lazy Shopping Day
“And I have her measurements. You will not be disappointed, darling,” Ardyn said, flourishing their pen before tucking it behind one long, sea-glass-colored ear. Their lips curled in a catlike grin as they rolled the parchment closed with a practiced flick of the wrist.
Vivienne returned the smile, one that showed teeth but none of the usual menace. “Good. She’s been wearing borrowed clothes up until now—secondhand, stretched, and never quite fitting right. I want her to have something that’s truly hers. The sooner the better.”
Ardyn gave a musical hum and turned to survey their wall of hanging bolts and enchanted needles, already picking out swatches in their mind. “Your last order required quite the intricate spellwork—those flame-retardant stitches were a nightmare to stabilize. But this?” They waved the rolled parchment. “This I can manage by the end of the day, barring surprises. Unless, of course, you want something similarly complex?”
Vivienne paused, considering. Her black eyes flicked toward the corner of the shop where delicate robes floated in display, silk rustling as if breathing. “Nothing like before. Just the basics—something comfortable. Maybe add a cleaning charm and one of those self-repairing weaves you’re so proud of. She doesn’t need anything else.”
The siren's expression brightened. “Simple and elegant, then. Practical enchantments only. Understood.” They gave a dramatic bow, the shimmering hem of their robes sweeping the floor behind them. “It shall be done. By nightfall, your daughter will be the best-dressed young lady in all of Serkoth—graceful, radiant, and appropriately spoiled.”
Vivienne gave a pleased little snort. “She deserves no less.”
“Then, if there is nothing else,” Ardyn said, clasping their hands together with theatrical flair, “I shall begin work immediately.”
“Actually,” Vivienne said, lifting a clawed finger, “there was another thing.” She gestured to Renzia, who stood silently at her side, hands folded neatly, posture straight. “She wishes to resume her own craft. Do you have suggestions on where she might acquire the tools she’ll need?”
The siren tilted their head, curious eyes flicking toward Renzia. “Ah, a fellow artisan?” They stepped closer, assessing the mannequin with genuine interest. “Do you have any specialty needs? Certain tools can be rare depending on the finesse of your work.”
Vivienne pulled a folded slip of parchment from the inside of her sash. “She gave me this list. I had her write down everything she wanted. Or… well, she scratched it out herself.” She handed it over.
Ardyn took the parchment with reverence, their fingers brushing the edge as though it were sacred. “Hmm…” They unfurled it with a flick, scanning its contents. “Ah, good taste—precise work requires proper gear. These aren’t exotic, but they are quality asks. She’s not aiming to make anything cheap.”
Vivienne gave a small shrug, her tail flicking lazily behind her. “I told her to ask for what she needed, not what was convenient.”
“Excellent attitude.” Ardyn smiled. “You’ll be glad to know that everything listed here can be sourced from within the city. I’ll jot down the names and addresses of the craftsmen and suppliers I personally trust. They’ll treat you well if you drop my name.”
“You’re a gem, Ardyn.”
The siren grinned, dipping into another low, showy bow. “It is always a pleasure doing business with you, Vivienne. You’re such a fascinating character—never predictable, and always stylish.”
With their business concluded and the list in hand, Vivienne swept Liora up into her arms and gestured for Renzia to follow. The mannequin moved at once, silent and attentive.
They made their way through the city to their first stop, a fabric shop.
The shop smelled of dye and drying ink, faintly sweet and a little bitter. Bolts of fabric stood stacked in towering shelves, casting soft shadows across the narrow aisles. At the back counter, a woman in a linen blouse was hunched over a ledger, squinting at numbers. Her dark hair was pinned tightly to the back of her head, and a fine sheen of sweat clung to her temples.
The chime above the door jingled softly.
She looked up—and froze.
Vivienne stepped through with Liora resting languidly in her arms like a cat on a throne. Behind her came Renzia, every step of her ticking mannequin frame echoing with unnatural precision.
The shopkeeper's throat bobbed as she stood upright. Her eyes flitted from Vivienne’s many black eyes to her glimmering horns and tail. “C-Can I… help you?”
Vivienne smiled. Not kindly—merely politely. “We need fabric. My companion wishes to make dresses.”
Renzia stepped forward and extended one finger toward the nearest bolt of cloth. “Ma-terial. Must be… strong. Soft. Not tear when… stretched.”
The woman blinked at Renzia, clearly unsure whether to be more unnerved by the doll-like thing that spoke in disjointed syllables or the looming matron holding a child with five unmoving eyes.
Vivienne let the silence stretch for just a moment too long before speaking again, her voice honeyed and unmistakably sharp. “We’ll be buying in bulk. That is still something your store offers, yes?”
“Y-Yes. Of course. Right away.” The shopkeeper all but scrambled from behind the counter and began pulling down bolts with twitchy, unsteady fingers. “Something… sturdy… elegant…”
She laid out several swatches on the wide central table, speaking faster than necessary. “This silk blend is lightly enchanted—resists tearing and staining. This wool composite is less fine but much more durable. And this—” she placed down a shimmering dark bolt “—is a newer weave. Water resistant, good for layering, and holds enchantments well.”
Renzia stared at the fabrics in silence, head tilting slightly to one side. Then she reached out and tapped two of them—the shimmering dark weave and the silk blend.
“These. Enough… for three.”
The shopkeeper nodded hastily, already reaching for the order scroll. “I’ll… I’ll have it all wrapped. Delivery?”
“To my manor, the former home of the Rathik family,” said Vivienne, her tone light, almost musical. “I assume that won't be a problem?”
The woman swallowed again. “N-None at all. Thank you for… your patronage.”
Vivienne gave a subtle, slow blink. “You’re very welcome.”
Renzia turned with a creak of joints, and Vivienne followed her out, adjusting Liora gently against her shoulder. The girl had been watching the entire interaction with lazy amusement, the corner of her lip twitching upward.
Once they were back on the street, Vivienne exhaled a soft breath through her nose. “Well, that wasn’t so bad.”
“She was scared of you,” Liora murmured, voice barely above a whisper.
“She’ll get over it,” Vivienne replied, unbothered. “And if she doesn’t, she’ll still take our coin.”
“Her hands were shaking,” Liora added, smiling slightly.
“Darling, everyone’s hands shake when they’re that close to my tail.” Vivienne smirked and gestured down the road. “Next stop. Come along Reniza.”
The trio made their way through Serkoth’s mid-tier districts, the crowds parting instinctively around Vivienne’s silhouette without her having to ask. Renzia walked with measured steps beside her, frame stiff but steady, every motion deliberate. Liora nestled against Vivienne’s arm, her expression unreadable save for a faint glimmer of amusement that never quite faded.
Their destination this time was narrower, the sign hanging above the door little more than an etched slab of steel. The windows were fogged with dust, and one corner of the awning sagged precariously.
Vivienne ducked inside with the same regal poise she carried everywhere. The shop interior was cluttered, not dirty but decidedly lived-in. Shelves sagged under the weight of boxed implements, crystal-thread spools, and all manner of precise, arcane-mechanical devices.
Behind the counter stood an older lekine man— somehow shorter than Vivienne but broad, with the look of someone who had once been strong and simply never lost the shape of it. His fur had gone grey at the temples, his eyes sharp and gleaming pale blue. The second he looked up, his ears twitched—and then immediately flattened against his head.
“By the stars,” he muttered.
Vivienne stepped forward, smiling faintly. “Good afternoon. We’re here for tools. My companion has a few things she’ll need for her work.”
The man blinked once. Then again. He glanced at Renzia, who stared back in silence, and then at Liora, who met his gaze with her eerie stillness.
His nostrils flared. “You’re the one what ingratiated with the Serkoth family.”
“I am,” said Vivienne smoothly. “And before you ask, yes, I’m paying in full and up front. There will be no chasing me down for late coin. I trust that makes things easier for everyone.”
The lekine man hesitated. Then, slowly, he let out a breath and reached under the counter for a pair of thin-framed spectacles, sliding them onto his muzzle.
“I’ll need a list,” he said gruffly.
Vivienne handed it over without pause.
He scanned the parchment. His eyes narrowed slightly. “Some of this is delicate work. What’s she planning to make?”
“Dresses,” Renzia answered, her voice dry and even. “And other things.”
The man gave a grunt that might have been surprise or simply age. He didn’t ask for clarification. “I’ve got most of this in stock. Might need a few days to put it all together properly.”
Vivienne inclined her head. “Have it delivered to the Rathik manor.”
“I don’t deliver,” he said.
Vivienne didn’t blink. “Then I’ll have someone pick it up.”
He stared at her for a long moment, then nodded slowly. “Fine. Tell whoever it is to bring a cart. This isn’t a lightweight order.”
“I’ll see to it,” Vivienne said. “And thank you.”
The man gave another grunt, then turned to start gathering the first of the requested items.
As they stepped outside again, Liora tilted her head. “That one was less scared.”
“Because he was annoyed instead,” said Vivienne, brushing her hand down her side as if clearing off dust. “Fear I’m used to. Stubbornness is a refreshing change.”
“He smelled like machine oil and burnt copper,” Liora said.
Vivienne arched a brow. “And how would you describe me, then?”
Liora’s eyes glittered. “Cinders. Blood. Old perfume.”
Vivienne gave a pleased little hum. “Sweetheart, you know just how to flatter me.”
Renzia creaked as she looked between the two of them. “Next stop?”
Vivienne nodded. “Next stop.”
Their final stop took them deeper into the artisan quarter, where the streets turned narrower, more winding. Lanterns swung from balconies above, catching bits of glass and aether-thread that sparkled in the breeze. The air smelled of incense, warm metal, and faint ozone—this was where Serkoth’s finer craftspeople worked, hidden between tea houses and sculpture gardens.
Vivienne led them down a quiet alley to a shopfront carved directly into the base of a wide-bellied tower. Its signage was done in gold ink on midnight-blue velvet, the letters curved like dancing flame.
A soft chime rang as Vivienne stepped inside, Liora cradled as always in her arms, Renzia trailing behind like a specter. The interior was dimly lit but warm, lined wall to wall with bolts of shimmering fabric, rows of threaded bobbins, and shelves of silver-tipped needles resting in velvet trays.
The woman behind the counter was tall, willowy, and dressed in long layers of silk that whispered with every step. Her eyes were a deep, starless black, her skin the hue of dusk clouds. She looked up at the sound of the bell—froze when she saw Vivienne—then dipped her head almost reflexively.
“Welcome to Nyrathi’s,” she said, her voice gentle, measured. “I—ah—was not expecting… such esteemed guests.”
Vivienne smiled without showing teeth. “We’re looking for high-quality threads and fasteners. Decorative and practical. For a new dressmaker I’ve taken under my wing.”
The woman’s eyes flicked toward Renzia, lingered just a moment too long on the mannequin’s still, hollow form, then snapped back to Vivienne.
“O-of course,” she said, hands twisting in her sleeves. “We—have an excellent selection. All local work. Blessed for integrity and consistency. Would you like to browse or shall I put something together?”
“I have a list,” Vivienne said, passing it over. “She’ll need all of it.”
The woman accepted it with trembling fingers, scanning it quickly. “Y-yes. I have… all of this. It will take a few hours to prepare the order. Shall I—deliver it?”
“Please,” Vivienne said. “To the Rathik manor.”
The woman swallowed hard, and for a second, her gaze slid sideways to Liora. The little girl met her eyes and smiled faintly, her expression unblinking, almost predatory in its stillness.
The woman flinched.
“Of course,” she whispered. “It will be delivered by sundown tomorrow.”
Vivienne gave her a gracious nod. “I appreciate your efficiency.”
As they turned to leave, Liora tilted her head toward her mother’s neck and whispered, “She was terrified.”
“She should be,” Vivienne murmured back, entirely serene. “Some instincts are meant to be listened to.”
Once outside, Renzia looked toward the sky. “We are…done?”
Vivienne nodded, casting a glance down the sun-dappled street. The buzz of midday still clung to the air—vendors calling from shaded stalls, the distant clang of metalwork, the murmur of passing conversations.
“Done for today,” she said with a little stretch of her back. Her tail gave a slow, content sway behind her. “We still have plenty of time left in the day. Why don’t we explore a bit? Take in the sights?”
Renzia, who had been quietly watching the clouds move above the rooftops, turned her head. “May I… go ba-ck to the man-or?” she asked, her voice soft but steady, her head tilting slightly to the side as if bracing for denial.
Vivienne blinked, momentarily surprised. It was rare for the mannequin to make a request at all, let alone one so plainly personal. But she quickly softened, smiling down at her. “You may, of course. Whatever you want.”
There was no shift in Renzia’s carved, expressionless face—but she dipped into a deep bow all the same, arms to her sides in perfect symmetry. “Tha-nk you, miss-tress.”
Vivienne reached out and gave the air just above her shoulder a fond little pat. “Go on then. I’ll have someone escort the delivery when it arrives.”
Renzia turned without another word, her joints creaking softly with every precise, even step. She moved like a marionette set loose into the world—unnatural and ghostly, but somehow determined.
Vivienne watched her go for a few moments before glancing down at Liora, who was still nestled in her arms, her bright eyes following Renzia’s retreat.
“She wants to get to work,” Liora murmured, almost like a secret.
“Yes,” Vivienne said quietly. “I think she does. She will need to wait a few days until her equipment arrives though.”
Vivienne strolled leisurely beneath the crisscross of clotheslines and lanterns strung between rooftops, her tail swinging low behind her. The scent of sizzling meat and spiced oils drifted through the air, and she followed it without much thought—guided more by instinct than intention.
Liora remained nestled in her arms, head tilted back to watch the sky. Her claws twitched occasionally in her lap, and her eyes tracked the lazy circling of birds above the market square.
They reached the vendor—a squat, grizzled man behind a wood-planked stall, flames licking up beneath a metal grill blackened from years of use. Skewers of charred meat hissed and popped as he turned them with practiced flicks of his wrist.
Vivienne leaned forward slightly, just enough to cast her shadow over the stand.
The vendor looked up, went stiff, and dropped a pair of tongs. “M-Miss…”
“Yes,” Vivienne said with a smooth smile, already pointing at one of the more generously stuffed skewers. “That one. And two more like it.”
He scrambled to oblige, wrapping them in thick paper and passing them across the counter without meeting her eyes. She handed over the coin, her claws brushing the back of his hand—he flinched, but said nothing.
She hummed as she bit into the first skewer, tearing into the tender, grease-slicked meat with sharp teeth. Her tail swayed behind her, a picture of casual menace.
Liora blinked up at her. “You’re scaring everyone again.”
“Not everyone,” Vivienne said, licking a smear of sauce from her lips. “Just the ones with poor impulse control.”
As she tore into the second skewer, juices dripping from the corner of her mouth, Vivienne’s eyes tracked the motion behind a nearby produce cart—three children peeking out. Two human boys with dirt-smudged faces and nervous energy, and a lekine girl whose bright green ribbons twitched with each flick of her large ears.
They whispered furiously among themselves. One of the boys gave the girl a shove, and she stumbled out from behind the cart, catching herself on the edge of a barrel. She stared at Vivienne like she was something out of a nightmare and a fairytale both.
Vivienne didn’t say a word. Just kept chewing, gaze steady and unreadable. Her tail flicked once behind her, the obsidian blade catching a glint of the sun. She could feel Liora stirring slightly in her arms, blinking slow and steady at the newcomers.
The girl swallowed hard. “M–m–ma’am?”
Vivienne finished the bite, licked the grease from her clawed fingertips, and tilted her head. “Yes?”
The girl flinched at being addressed, but somehow stayed rooted. “Um… you’re… you’re not gonna eat me, are you?”
Vivienne raised a brow. “Do you want to be eaten?”
“N-no!”
“Then I suppose you’re safe.” Her tone was dry, but her lips curved slightly, the corners of her black mouth twitching upward.
Liora smiled softly. “Mommy doesn’t eat kids.”
The boys yelped from behind the cart.
Vivienne lowered her voice, almost conspiratorial. “What’s your name, little one?”
The girl’s fingers tightened around the edge of her tunic. “Talli…”
“Well, Talli. I’m Vivienne. This—” she gently bounced Liora in her arms, “—is my daughter. We’re out enjoying the market. Would you like to stare a little longer, or have you worked up the courage to ask your real question?”
Talli blinked rapidly. Her ears twitched. “You’re not… human or lekine.”
“Very observant.”
“Are you one of those deep things? My uncle says they come up from under the ground and steal people’s faces.”
Vivienne smiled wide enough to show a hint of fang. “Only the handsome ones.”
Talli giggled nervously. “You’re weird.”
“I’ve been called worse.”
The boys crept further from behind the cart, the remnants of their initial hesitation still lingering in their wide eyes, but they were emboldened by Talli’s survival. One of them, missing a front tooth, pointed toward Vivienne’s tail with a nervous sort of curiosity. “Is that sharp?”
Vivienne’s gaze flicked down to the obsidian blade, its gleaming edge catching the light. She grinned, just slightly, the edges of her black lips pulling back. “Would you like to test it?”
The boy froze, his eyes going wide as he stumbled back, disappearing behind the cart with a startled yelp. Vivienne’s gaze shifted back to Talli, who had watched the interaction with quiet fascination.
She smiled to herself and then turned her attention back to the little group. “Where are your parents? I don’t think they’ll like you talking to me.”
Talli hesitated, her ears drooping just slightly, then she answered, her voice a little more uncertain. “Ma and da are working. Uncle said he saw you before and said you were really scary, but my best friend Ganna said she met you and said you were nice.”
Vivienne’s lips curled into a small, almost amused smirk. “Is that so? Most grown-ups would probably disagree with you.” Her voice had that signature mix of sweetness and sarcasm that only Vivienne could pull off so effortlessly.
Talli nodded solemnly, as if the idea of people thinking Vivienne was scary wasn’t quite as hard to believe. Liora, who had been quietly observing the whole exchange, finally piped up from Vivienne’s arms.
“Mommy is really nice. She loves me a lot.”
The words were so simple, but the sincerity in Liora’s voice made Vivienne’s heart twist, a moment of warmth slipping through her usual indifference. She shifted Liora slightly, adjusting the girl in her arms as she glanced down at her, her eyes softening for just a second before returning her attention to Talli.
The girl blinked at Liora, and then nodded again, looking up at Vivienne with a little more respect in her gaze. “You haven’t eaten me, so I think you are nice even if you look weird. Why are you carrying her around?”
Vivienne’s smile faded slightly, the atmosphere shifting ever so subtly. She looked down at Liora again, who had gone unusually quiet, her gaze averted as though she wasn’t quite sure what to say. Vivienne’s voice softened, though there was still an edge to it as she spoke. “My little girl was hurt by some bad people from Aegis, but she’s slowly getting better.”
Talli’s gaze softened, her small features twisting into a mixture of sympathy and curiosity as she processed Vivienne’s words. “Da says Aegis has lots of bad people and they want to take over our home.”
Vivienne’s eyes narrowed, her expression turning serious as she met Talli’s gaze. “They do. I plan on stopping them forever.”
Talli’s brows furrowed in thought for a moment, her lips pursing as she considered the weight of Vivienne’s statement. Then, with a soft nod, she spoke earnestly, her voice carrying the unshakable trust of a child. “Then you are a good person.”
Vivienne couldn’t help it—she laughed. The sound was rich and melodic, as if it came from a place of both amusement and something more ancient, something timeless. She leaned down slightly, her eyes bright with the unspoken understanding that children, in their innocence, sometimes see things more clearly than the world around them. “Many would disagree with you, but thank you, little one.”
Talli beamed, seemingly pleased with the approval, and Vivienne took a moment to study the girl more closely. She wasn’t like the others—unafraid, unflinching, even in the face of something as terrifying as Vivienne herself. There was a certain bravery in her, perhaps born from her own upbringing or simply a child’s unyielding curiosity.
Vivienne’s lips quirked slightly as she crouched down to Talli’s level, her voice softening with the question she hadn’t expected to ask. “Would you like to be Liora’s friend?”
Talli’s ears twitched as she processed the question, her eyes flickering to Liora, who was still cradled gently in Vivienne’s arms, watching the interaction quietly. The girl’s gaze lingered on Liora for a moment, and then she nodded, a bright smile stretching across her face. “I’d like that! I can teach her how to climb trees! I’m really good at it.”
Vivienne’s lips curled upward at the mention of climbing trees. “Liora’s not quite ready for tree climbing, but I’m sure she would love to play with you.” Her voice softened, that rare warmth in her tone as she considered the possibility. She wasn’t sure if it was right to let Liora form attachments to children, but there was something about the way Talli had spoken, with such openness and honesty, that made Vivienne think maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea.
Talli bounced on her feet, clearly excited by the prospect of a new friend. “I’ll show her all the good spots in the village! And we can play tag and hide-and-seek, too!”
Liora’s eyes brightened slightly at the mention of games, her lips curling into a small smile, though she said nothing. Vivienne could feel the faint weight of the girl’s presence in her arms, but she could also feel Liora’s curiosity stirring. The invitation to play, the idea of friendship—she wasn’t sure how much Liora understood, but she was learning.
Vivienne took a moment to study Talli, who was practically vibrating with excitement, and felt something shift within her. There was a part of her—something buried deep down—that wanted to say yes. Let her have this. Let her have these fleeting moments of innocence before the world came crashing down.
"Perhaps," Vivienne said, her voice warm but with the subtle weight of caution, "you two can meet again soon. I will need to speak with your parents first though.”
Talli's eyes lit up at the mention of her parents, and without hesitation, she bounced on her feet, her excitement barely contained. “I can show you where my Pa works! He is really close!” she offered, her words tumbling out in a rush, her smile wide and eager.
Vivienne considered the suggestion for a moment. It wasn’t a bad idea. Liora could benefit from the companionship of a child her own age—though, technically, Liora's age was far less than Talli’s. Vivienne had to remind herself that Liora was only half a year old in terms of her existence, but mentally? Liora was closer to six or seven. She had her own awareness and she was far more perceptive than she would expect at times. In the end, it made sense, in some ways, for her to interact with other children, especially ones who didn’t see her as some strange, scary creature.
Still, convincing a parent that it was okay for their child to spend time around someone like Vivienne—that was likely to be its own kind of ordeal. She’d was intimate with the fear in the eyes of adults when they saw her and now, Talli’s parents? Vivienne wasn’t sure they would react the same way. She’d likely have to hold back on all of her usual pleasures. Terrifying them wouldn’t gain Liora any new friends.
Best to strike while the iron is hot, Vivienne thought. Talli was excited now, too eager to ask questions or get distracted. The longer she waited, the more likely it would be that the child would go home and speak of her to her parents before Vivienne could intervene.
“That sounds marvelous,” Vivienne said, her smile returning, more genuine now. “Why don’t you lead the way, little lady?”
Talli beamed at the praise, practically bouncing on her feet before turning and darting down the street, not waiting for Vivienne to follow. “This way! It’s just down here!” she called over her shoulder, her voice ringing with youthful enthusiasm.
Vivienne looked down at Liora, who was still cradled in her arms, her expression a mixture of curiosity and confusion as she watched the small girl race ahead. Vivienne's lips curved slightly at the sight of her daughter’s subtle interest.
“You’re going to make a friend, darling,” Vivienne murmured softly, more to herself than to Liora. It was strange, she realized, how quickly things were changing for the both of them. She’d never imagined a scenario where her daughter would have the chance to play with a child her own age—or at least, one with a similar mental age. And though Vivienne had never quite considered what this moment would look like, she found herself glad that Liora would have this opportunity.
Talli’s enthusiastic voice broke Vivienne from her thoughts as she hurried ahead, not noticing the way Vivienne lingered for just a moment longer before following.
She had to admit it: there was something about the simplicity of the moment—the innocence of a child wanting to show her new friend the way to her father—that almost made her forget the weight of the world on her shoulders. Almost.
Vivienne exhaled softly, adjusted Liora’s weight more comfortably in her arms, and followed after Talli. The street stretched ahead of her, alive with sounds of the bustling marketplace, but in her mind, there was only the child before her, leading the way to what might be the start of something new.
She really would have to be on her best behavior. First impressions were fragile things, and whatever tolerance adults extended to her usually came with unease. That wouldn’t do, not with a child’s future friendship at stake. Perhaps it would be wise to take a form less… intimidating.
Her eyes drifted across the street as she walked, taking quiet note of the lekine women passing by—how they moved, how they carried themselves, how others responded to them. Subtle cues, little tells of social acceptance. Rounded cheeks. Relaxed ears. A hint of laugh lines near the eyes.
As they passed a narrow alley, hidden briefly from the crowd’s view, Vivienne slowed and closed her eyes for just a heartbeat. Her form rippled—gently, precisely. Five black eyes narrowed down to two warm, almond-shaped ones. Her pointed ears slid upward, reshaping themselves into perky, fur-lined wolf ears. Her slate-gray skin darkened into a rich brown hue, lightly speckled at the cheeks. The ridges flanking her lips smoothed away, the obsidian spikes retreating beneath her skin. She kept the thickness of her figure, the full swell of her hips and heavy chest, but her features softened into something more maternal, more ordinary.
It wasn’t perfect—never was when she had to improvise like this—but it would do.
“Mommy, what are you doing?” Liora asked, her voice drowsy and curious from where she rested in the crook of Vivienne’s arm.
Vivienne looked down, now with soft brown eyes and a gentle, older face. “Mm,” she hummed, brushing her lips against Liora’s curls, “I want you to have friends. I must start that by not scaring their parents… too much, at least.”
Liora nodded slowly. “That makes sense.”
It was harder this time. Shifting into something monstrous came effortlessly—her body knew how to do that, like a reflex. But crafting something delicate, something believable… that required effort, care. Before the battle at Drakthar, she wouldn't have managed this level of detail on the fly. Something had changed since then. Power unlocked. Control refined. The melody of her being had grown fuller, more nuanced. It was no longer impossible. Just... taxing.
Still, she bore the effort with grace, adjusting Liora slightly in her arms as they turned the corner onto a quieter street.
Talli came to a stop in front of a cozy little shop nestled between two stone buildings, its hand-painted sign depicting a bundle of herbs wrapped in cloth. The air smelled faintly of crushed mint and smoke. A healer’s place, judging by the dried leaves hanging over the doorway and the rows of salves and tinctures visible through the window.
“We’re here!” Talli chirped, bouncing on her heels in front of the little healer’s shop. Her ribbons bobbed with each excited hop, and she turned to beam up at them—only for her smile to falter. Her brow knit with sudden confusion. “Pa works inside! He says I can—wait… who are you?”
Vivienne’s lips curled in quiet amusement, and she gave a knowing tilt of her head. “Can you not tell from who I hold in my arms?”
Talli’s gaze dropped to Liora, still nestled comfortably against Vivienne’s shoulder, and her green eyes went wide. “You made yourself look different!”
“I did,” Vivienne said gently. “I don’t want to scare your father. At least… not at first.”
Talli tilted her head, examining her new face as if trying to trace it back to the one she’d seen before. “Oh,” she said after a beat, her voice a little quieter, a little less sparkly. “Okay.”
Vivienne caught the tone instantly—soft disappointment, the kind only a child could express so earnestly. It tugged at her chest in an unexpected way.
She crouched slightly, careful not to jostle Liora, and met Talli’s eyes. “Do you not like it?” she asked, her voice quiet and calm.
Talli shrugged, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her tunic. “It’s just… I thought your other face was cooler.”
Vivienne blinked, then let out a warm, full laugh. “Sweetheart, no one has ever said that to me before.”
Talli brightened a little at that, a smile creeping back across her face. “It was! Your tail looked like a sword, and you had five eyes! I never saw anyone like you!”
Vivienne gave a slow, theatrical sigh and straightened back up. “Well, perhaps once I’ve spoken to your father and he doesn’t throw a brick at me, I’ll show you again.”
The little girl nodded, grinning. “Promise?”
Vivienne held out her pinky. “Pinky swear.”
Talli looped her small finger around hers without hesitation, solemn and official.
Then, with a bounce and a giggle, she turned toward the door and pushed it open. “Pa! There’s someone I want you to meet!” she called inside.
Vivienne adjusted Liora gently and exhaled. Her new form might have made things easier, but it felt oddly heavy now, as if she were hiding something precious. Still… one step at a time.