Mother of Midnight

Chapter 32 – Greyreach Pass

“Do you think bandits live around here? I think I need some clothes.” Vivienne asked, her voice dripping with mischief as she turned to Rava, flashing a devilish grin. “Unless, of course, you like the view as is. The cold doesn’t bother me.”

Rava immediately cast her gaze aside, a faint blush creeping up her neck despite the biting wind. She cleared her throat awkwardly, her discomfort evident. “No... Not many cross this border unless they’re truly desperate.”

Vivienne smirked, clearly enjoying the effect she was having, but she didn’t press further. Instead, she glanced down at herself, running a clawed hand across her smooth, unmarked skin, and hummed thoughtfully. “Shame. I’m sure there’s something charming about bandit attire, but I suppose I’ll make do for now. I don’t mind a bit of exposure.”

Rava shifted uncomfortably, still not quite sure how to process the new Vivienne. She was both the same person—yet entirely different. The strange mixture of confidence and wildness emanating from her was unsettling, but it was hard to deny that the woman before her was as captivating as she was unsettling.

“Bandits? I wouldn’t expect many around here.” Rava said, trying to steer the conversation back on safer ground, her eyes scanning the path ahead. “We’ll cross a village soon enough. There should be someone there who can help, or at least tell us where we can find shelter.”

Vivienne raised an eyebrow, her eyes still gleaming with that spark of amusement. “Shelter, you say? We can always make our own.” She gestured expansively at the barren landscape, her fingers trailing through the cold air as though sketching invisible lines. “But... I suppose you're right. A village could be... interesting.” Her tone shifted subtly, taking on a more contemplative note, as if something deeper lurked beneath her words. “Snack?”

Rava’s response was immediate, her voice firm. “No snack. We’re almost in the steppes. I’d like to keep a low profile. And by ‘we’, I mean you.”

Vivienne’s eyes flashed with amusement, a playful smile tugging at her lips. She spun in place, stretching her limbs with exaggerated grace, as though enjoying the sheer freedom of her own form. "Low profile?" she repeated, her voice laced with mock disbelief. "But I am incognito, Rava. I’m practically invisible." She gave a dramatic twirl, her claws leaving faint trails through the air. “Don’t you think?”

Rava didn’t respond at first, her gaze shifting briefly to the path ahead. The land was stark, but it wouldn’t be long before they reached the outskirts of the steppes. The terrain was more open, more exposed, and she didn’t like the idea of drawing attention—especially not to Vivienne in her... current state.

“I’m serious,” Rava said after a moment, her tone dropping into something more grounded. “You stand out, Vivienne. Even if you’re not trying to. So, let’s keep things low-key, yeah? We don’t need trouble.”

Vivienne rolled all of her eyes, the motion exaggerated and theatrical. “Yes, yes, I suppose you’re right. I’ll need something to wear if I’m to... not blend in but at least make myself somewhat less conspicuous.” She grinned, her sharp teeth catching the light for a moment.

Rava’s hand brushed against the pouch of coins at her hip with a quiet clink. “I’ll see if I can buy you something in the village. Though,” she hesitated, eyeing Vivienne, “you might need to wait outside while I do so.”

Vivienne placed her claws delicately against her cheeks, a look of mock horror sweeping across her face. “And you would leave your poor damsel in distress all alone, in the cold, with nothing but the lurking dangers of the night?” She gasped dramatically, her tone dripping with playful sarcasm.

Rava rolled her eyes, her posture relaxing as she let out an exasperated sigh. “You’re not a damsel, Vivienne,” she deadpanned. “I’ve seen you bring men to their knees with nothing but your thoughts. You don’t fear a thing. You can’t even feel the cold.” She met Vivienne’s gaze with a smirk. “And, let’s be honest here, you’re the danger that lurks in the dark.”

Vivienne’s lips curled into a slow, pleased smile. “Touché, warrior. You do know how to flatter me,” she purred, her voice sultry but laced with that edge of wildness Rava had come to expect from her. “But if I must be the danger,” she continued, her tone shifting into something playful, almost teasing, “I should at least be properly dressed for the part, don’t you think?”

Rava gave her a sidelong glance, her expression unreadable as she adjusted her pack, the cold from the snow creeping beneath her furs. “Fine. What do you want to wear?” she asked, tripping slightly in the snow as her foot caught on a hidden patch of ice. The biting chill from the storm seemed to bite through even her tempest aether, settling deep into her bones.

Vivienne tapped a claw thoughtfully against her chin, her gaze drifting upward as if considering the many possibilities of a wardrobe she hadn’t yet been given. “I prefer skirts or dresses, something that cuts just above the knee,” she mused aloud, her voice light and lilting. “A blouse, perhaps? Something soft, but with a bit

of flair, yes? But not too much—don’t want to attract too much attention, after all.” Her eyes gleamed with a mischievous spark, as though the suggestion was less about practicality and more about amusement.Rava blinked, momentarily distracted by the image Vivienne painted in her mind. She quickly shook it off, trying to focus. “Right. I’ll try to find something that’ll fit, then. But if you start wearing frills or something too extravagant, I’m going to leave you in the snow.” The words came out half-joking, but there was no hiding the undercurrent of concern beneath her tone.

Vivienne threw her a wink, a small, knowing chuckle escaping her lips. “I promise nothing. But don’t worry, Rava, I won’t give you more to handle than you already have.” Her voice dropped to something more teasing, almost playful. “You are my bodyguard for the moment, after all.”

Rava snorted. “You know, I might need one after all of this.”

Vivienne laughed, the sound like a soft, eerie melody. “Oh, you wound me, my dear Rava. But no worries, I’ll be on my best behaviour... until we leave town, at least.”

Rava shot her a glance but didn’t respond. They continued on in silence, the stark beauty of the snowy landscape stretching around them, broken only by the occasional howl of the wind through the trees. As they neared the village, Rava slowed her pace, taking in the modest wooden buildings dotting the hillside, smoke curling from chimneys as the villagers went about their daily business. It seemed peaceful enough, for now.

“Okay, stay hidden for now,” Rava instructed, her voice low and firm. She adjusted the strap of her pack, scanning the village ahead. “I passed through here on my way to... Aegis.” The hesitation in her words was brief, but enough to bring a flicker of something into her gaze—regret, perhaps. “It’s mostly a logging village, but if I remember right, they’ve got a general store.”

Vivienne grinned, her many eyes gleaming with amusement. “Miss you already!” she teased, her voice carrying a lilting, mock-sentimental tone. Without waiting for a response, her body seemed to dissolve into the shadows of a nearby pine tree, melting away in a ripple of darkness until nothing remained but the faint rustling of needles.

Rava grunted, shaking her head. “Show-off,” she muttered under her breath, though there was no heat in her words. She trudged onward through the snow, her boots crunching against the frosty ground. The chill nipped at her fur, but she pressed on, her focus sharp as she approached the outskirts of the village.

The scent of fresh-cut pine and wood smoke filled the air, mingling with the faint hum of voices carried by the breeze. Rava pulled her hood lower, hoping to obscure her features as much as possible. She wasn’t entirely sure how a lekine would be received here—especially one travelling alone—but she couldn’t afford to draw any undue attention.

She approached the largest of the wooden buildings, a squat structure with a hand-painted sign that read Garron’s Goods. The door creaked as she pushed it open, stepping into the warm interior. The scent of dried herbs, leather, and lamp oil filled the space, along with the faint tang of iron from a small rack of tools near the counter.

Behind the counter stood a middle-aged lekine man with a wiry build and a sharp, assessing gaze. He looked up from a ledger as Rava entered, his eyes narrowing slightly before his expression smoothed into something more neutral. “Afternoon,” he said, his voice gruff but not unkind. “What can I do for you?”

Rava dipped her head in greeting, her voice steady and polite. “Looking for some clothing. Something sturdy, warm... and modest.” She hesitated, trying to imagine how to phrase the next part without raising suspicion. “For a companion. About two heads shorter, but... wider in the hips with some extra room in the bust.”

The shopkeeper raised an eyebrow, glancing at Rava’s tall, muscular frame. “That’s a specific request,” he said, scratching his chin thoughtfully. “My husband might be able to help with that. Why isn’t your companion here? Would be easier to get her clothes if she were.”

Rava’s ears flicked at the shopkeeper’s pointed question, her mind racing for a believable explanation. “She’s... shy,” she said finally, keeping her tone even. “Not used to people. Figured it’d be better if I handled this for her.”

The man didn’t look entirely convinced, but he shrugged, his expression neutral. “Fair enough,” he said, motioning toward the back of the shop. “Wait here. I’ll grab my husband—he’s got an eye for tailoring. He might be able to find something in storage that fits your ‘shy’ friend.”

As the shopkeeper disappeared into the back room, Rava let out a slow, measured breath. She turned toward the rack of cloaks by the door, idly fingering the edge of a thick woolen one. Outside, the shadows danced faintly, and Rava had the distinct sense that Vivienne was watching.

She muttered under her breath, barely audible. “You’d better stay put.”

A soft laugh whispered through her mind, almost like the rustling of leaves. “But darling, this is so much more fun than hiding in the dark.”

Rava didn’t react outwardly, though her lips twitched in annoyance. She resisted the urge to glance out the window and instead focused on the rack, pulling a plain grey cloak from the selection.

A moment later, a broad-shouldered man with kind eyes and a weathered face emerged from the back room, carrying a bundle of fabric. “Name’s Garron,” he said with a nod, setting the bundle on the counter. “Heard you need something for your companion. Not every day we get folks passing through asking for custom sizes.”

Rava inclined her head. “Appreciate the help. We’re travelling through the mountains, so warmth is key. She’s, uh...” She hesitated, searching for the right words. “...particular.”

Garron chuckled, unfolding the fabric to reveal a sturdy wool dress, dark green with simple embroidery around the neckline, and a pair of thick leggings. “This should work. Durable, warm, and a little forgiving in the fit. You think she’d like it?”

Rava studied the outfit, nodding after a moment. “It’ll do. Do you have boots and gloves to match?”

“Of course,” Garron replied, turning to pull a pair of sturdy leather boots and wool-lined gloves from a nearby shelf. “You’re looking at twenty silver for the lot.”

Rava reached for her coin pouch and counted out the coins, placing them on the counter. Garron swept them up with a practised hand, wrapping the items in a burlap sack. “Pleasure doing business,” he said, handing the bundle to Rava. “Safe travels, miss.”

She offered a polite nod and turned to leave, stepping out into the crisp mountain air. The moment the shop door closed behind her, a shadow peeled away from the trees, coalescing into Vivienne’s familiar form.

“Well?” Vivienne asked, her quintet of eyes gleaming with curiosity. “Did you find something lovely for me?”

Rava thrust the sack into her companion’s arms with a grunt. “Here. You can change in the trees.” She paused, her voice dry. “Try not to scare the squirrels.”

Vivienne cackled, holding the bundle close to her chest. “Oh, darling, I’m sure the squirrels will adore me.” Without another word, she disappeared back into the shadows, leaving Rava to shake her head in exasperation.

Soon after, Vivienne emerged from the shadows wearing the green dress Rava had bought for her. The fabric fit snugly around her hips while leaving some room in the chest, and the hem fell modestly halfway down her shins. There were now holes in the sleeves for her spines, tearing the fabric messily. Her tail trailed out lazily from under the dress, leaving a trail in the snow as she walked. Her feet were wrapped in sturdy leather boots, but what she held in her claws stole the show—a pair of gloves dangling by one finger, her grin wide and devilish.

“Gloves?” Vivienne asked, holding one up with exaggerated delicacy, her claws already poking through a few holes in the leather. She raised her other hand and flexed her talons with a faint screech of metal against each other. “Really, Rava? What part of me made you think these would work?”

Rava planted her hands on her hips, unimpressed. “You said you wanted to blend in. Consider them an experiment.”

Vivienne snorted, slipping one glove over her claws as gingerly as possible. Predictably, the tips of her talons shredded through the material, leaving a jagged mess. She held up the ruined glove, shaking her head with mock solemnity. “Well, I hope you didn’t pay too much for these. They didn’t even last a second.”

“They were cheap,” Rava said, already regretting the attempt. “And if you weren’t so stubborn about looking like... that, I wouldn’t have bothered.”

Vivienne smirked, her sharp teeth flashing. “My dear, I couldn’t give up my claws even if I wanted to. They’re part of my charm.”

Rava groaned, snatching the remains of the gloves from Vivienne’s hand. “Fine. No gloves. But you’re keeping the rest of it on.”

Vivienne’s smirk grew wider as she twirled dramatically in the snow, the hem of her green dress flaring out. “No dancing naked under the light of the moons? You’re taking all the fun out of this, Rava,” she teased, her tone light but with that ever-present mischievous edge. “Though I suppose I can indulge your mortal need for beds and stew... for now.”

Rava shot her an exasperated look, starting down the road toward the village. “You could at least pretend to care about blending in.”

Vivienne fell into step behind her, her claws clicking softly against the leather of her boots. “Oh, but where’s the fun in that? Besides, I think I’m already doing a remarkable job at being ordinary.” She gestured to herself, the faintest glint of mockery in her tone. “Look at me! I’m positively mundane.”

“Yeah, you’d blend right in if people ignored your extra eyes, claws, and teeth.” Rava rolled her own eyes, keeping her gaze forward. “Just... stay quiet when we get there. The last thing I need is for you to scare the locals into forming an angry mob.”

“An angry mob would be so entertaining, though,” Vivienne murmured, her voice playful. But at Rava’s pointed glare, she sighed dramatically and held up her hands in surrender. “Fine, fine. I’ll be good. For now.”

The village came into view as they rounded the bend, its sturdy wooden palisade looking weathered but well-maintained. Smoke curled lazily from chimneys, and faint sounds of laughter and conversation carried on the crisp air. It was a small settlement, bustling just enough to feel alive, but with the quiet simplicity of a place far removed from the Aegis Sovereignty’s reach.

Rava paused just before the gates, glancing back at Vivienne. “Remember—quiet. Let me do the talking.”

Vivienne’s lips twitched upward, but she nodded solemnly. “Your wish is my command, oh fearless leader.”

With a sceptical glance, Rava turned and strode into the village, greeted by the curious stares of a few villagers. Most of the attention went to Rava’s towering figure, but some flickered toward Vivienne, who followed with a demure posture that was suspiciously exaggerated.

Rava ignored the murmurs and made her way to the largest building in sight—a weathered structure with a swinging sign with a mug etched on to it. The scent of roasted meat and spiced ale wafted from within, and Rava’s stomach growled in anticipation.

Inside, the tavern was warm and dimly lit, with wooden beams overhead and a roaring fire in the hearth. A few patrons sat scattered at tables, nursing drinks or sharing quiet conversation. The barkeep, a broad-shouldered woman with sharp eyes and greying hair, looked up as they entered.

Rava approached the counter with a polite nod. “Two beds for the night, if you’ve got them. And a hot meal.”

The barkeep’s eyes flicked briefly to Vivienne, who stood behind her towering lekine companion, claws clasped primly in front of her as she gave the woman a wide, unsettling smile. The barkeep frowned slightly but said nothing, returning her attention to Rava. “Rooms for two are five silver each, meals are eight copper, in the evenings and mornings.”

“Fair enough.” Rava counted out the coins, then glanced over her shoulder at Vivienne, who while acting demure, could see the gleam of hunger in her eyes as she watched the barkeep count the coins.

The barkeep placed the key down with a practised motion, her sharp eyes lingering on Vivienne for a moment longer than necessary. “Don’t cause any trouble,” she added flatly, her tone suggesting it was more of a warning than a request.

Rava grunted an acknowledgement, taking the key and motioning for Vivienne to follow. “Come on,” she muttered, already heading toward the stairs.

As they ascended, Vivienne trailed behind, her movements unnaturally smooth and silent despite the creaking steps beneath them. She glanced back at the patrons below, who quickly averted their gazes when they noticed her looking. Her smile widened, and she whispered to Rava, “Such a warm welcome. I feel positively adored.”

“Don’t start,” Rava said without looking back, her voice low and weary. “We’re here to rest, not to stir up trouble.”

Reaching the room, Rava pushed the door open, revealing a modest but clean space with two small beds, a single wooden chair, and a window overlooking the snowy village. It wasn’t much, but it was leagues better than sleeping on frozen ground.

Vivienne strolled in, her eyes scanning the room before perching herself gracefully on one of the beds. She crossed her legs and leaned back on her hands, the green dress settling around her like the coiled threat of a predator. “Quaint,” she remarked. “I can almost feel the charm.”

Rava closed the door behind her and leaned against it, folding her arms. “You’re not here to critique the decor. Get some rest or eat. You’ve been complaining about food since this morning.”

Vivienne tilted her head, her dark, glittering eyes fixing on Rava. “Oh, I’m not complaining anymore. There’s plenty to feast on here, wouldn’t you agree?” Her tone was teasing, but the edge in her voice was unmistakable.

Rava straightened, her gaze narrowing. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Oh, relax, darling.” Vivienne waved a clawed hand dismissively, her grin playful but sharp. “I meant the stew. Probably.”

Rava groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I’ll go see about the food. You stay here and... try not to terrify anyone.”

“No promises,” Vivienne purred, reclining further on the bed with a languid stretch. “But I’ll do my best. For you.”

Rava hesitated, then shook her head and stepped out, locking the door behind her as she descended back to the tavern floor. The warm, earthy scent of roasting meat met her again, and she approached the barkeep once more.

“Two meals,” she said simply, placing the coppers on the counter.

The barkeep eyed her for a moment before scooping up the coins. “Stew’s still on the fire. I’ll bring it over when it’s ready.”

Rava nodded, turning to find a quiet corner where she could sit and keep an eye on the room. Her muscles ached for the rest a bed promised, but her mind refused to let its guard down. Even here, surrounded by villagers, she couldn’t shake the sense that Vivienne’s presence was a storm waiting to break.

Above, Vivienne sat in the room alone, staring out the frosted window. Her reflection stared back, a faint shimmer in her too-dark eyes. She tilted her head, watching her own expression shift, the edges of her smile curling wider. She watched the villagers mill to and fro, unaware of the monster that was now amongst them.

“Modest little village,” she murmured to herself, her voice low and almost fond. “I missed this.”