Mother of Midnight

Chapter 6 – Not Alone

Vivienne almost bumped into Rava’s legs when the wolf-woman stopped very suddenly, her stance low and powerful, every muscle taut. Vivienne looked ahead, heart hammering, as her gaze settled on a figure lurking in the crystal-lit halls. The creature hadn’t noticed them yet, moving in slow, ominous paces as it surveyed the shadows with mechanical precision.

It stood a head taller than Rava, with a build reminiscent of a man, yet it seemed to be made from something thicker, darker than mere flesh—a thick, shadow-like essence that clung to its limbs like fog clinging to a midnight sea. Its shoulders bore a jagged, metallic helmet, with wicked spikes jutting upwards, scraping against the faint glimmer of crystal-light from above. It looked ancient, as though it had weathered centuries of battle and decay, with rusted edges and deep grooves that spoke of untold violence. In one shadowed hand, it gripped a wicked onyx blade, the weapon itself sharp and uneven, glinting in places as though it had been carved from dark stone.

Vivienne could feel Rava’s fear, sharp and raw in the air. But this wasn’t the fear of a hunter suddenly cornered—it was something deeper, more primal. Rava’s breath grew shallow, her hands twitching as if she were instinctively reaching for weapons that weren’t there. Whatever this creature was, it was more than a threat. Vivienne could sense it in Rava’s tensed muscles and the rapid flick of her eyes as they locked onto the thing’s every move.

Strangely, where she expected her own heart to race, she felt only hunger—a deep, gnawing hunger that made her vision sharpen. The aether in the air around her was thick and tempting, but what radiated from this shadowy creature was something else entirely. It felt rich, layered, with an undertone of bitter anger that made it feel both dangerous and… delicious.

She wanted it. She wanted its essence, and that realisation came as naturally as breathing.

Without thinking, she began to slide across the smooth stone floor, moving closer, her eyes fixed on the creature like a predator sizing up its prey. Rava’s hand shot out, her fingers digging into Vivienne’s arm in silent panic, her eyes wide, pleading. She barely dared to breathe, yet Vivienne found her caution almost amusing. She didn’t fear this creature, not when its very presence made her mouth water.

As she inched closer, a low rumbling chuckle escaped her, rolling through the hall as she continued forward. She could feel Rava’s desperate, silent plea to stop, her terror all but tangible. But Vivienne barely registered it. This creature wasn’t a threat—it was sustenance.

She reached out toward it, tendrils unfurling from her form, slipping across the ground like creeping shadows. And then the creature turned, its featureless helm locking onto Rava as if it could sense her trembling presence.

The silence shattered as the revenant let out a deafening scream, a hollow, chilling sound that echoed through the worn stone walls. Rava clamped her hands over her sensitive wolfish ears, gritting her teeth against the agony of the reverberation. She didn’t see it draw its blade back, every inch of its movement fluid, its dark figure almost gliding through the air with terrifying grace. But it failed to notice the shadow that lurked behind it—the nightmare sliding ever closer.

Vivienne’s tendrils struck, wrapping around the creature’s limbs, winding up its arms like serpentine chains. The revenant’s onyx blade swung down, its arc meant to cleave her form, but instead, it passed through Vivienne’s body, harmlessly slicing through her darkened, formless essence.

The sensation was bizarre, like a surge of ice-cold anger that ran through her, bitter but not unpleasant. She felt it pass through her core, but it was nothing more than a fleeting tickle, as harmless as a breeze.

The revenant stared at her in stunned silence, its helmet tilting in confusion. And in that moment of stillness, Vivienne took her chance, driving her tendrils deeper into its form, drinking deeply from the seething aether that spilled from it. She drank until she felt full, sated, and the creature’s writhing began to slow.

Flashes of memory flooded her senses, glimpses of a life lost: a battlefield blanketed with fallen warriors, the coppery scent of blood filling the air, the weight of a comrade’s lifeless body as it was dragged from the field. She could feel the sting of a lost limb, the sharp bite of despair as the revenant's own memories poured into her, thick with longing, loss, and a quiet, undying rage. The warrior’s gaze lingered on the bandaged stump of his arm, and the image of a loved one waiting somewhere far away burned bright. And then, just as quickly, the memories faded, swallowed whole by her hunger.

The revenant screamed again, its hand clawing frantically at her, though it passed through her as though she were nothing but air. Its shrieks filled the air, sharp with terror and pain, until it suddenly fell silent, collapsing into wisps of darkness. Only the jagged helmet remained, cold and still upon the floor, its faceplate a frozen image of death itself.

“You… you just ate a revenant,” Rava breathed, her voice low, laced with disbelief. Her wide eyes were glued to Vivienne, her face a mixture of shock and something close to fear.

Vivienne could only sigh, a deep contentment settling over her. Yet, there was an unsettling thought stirring within her. She had just consumed a creature that even Rava, the powerful wolf-warrior who could level walls with her fists, feared deeply. And yet… she’d felt nothing. No fear, no doubt, just hunger. She couldn’t shake the thought—could she even feel fear anymore?

Her mouth watered at the memory of its taste, the way its essence had poured into her like a forbidden delicacy. She extended a tendril, glancing down at herself through one of the small, unblinking eyes that emerged along its length. Her form was shifting, jagged, a strange, wolfish mouth filled with rows of teeth sprouting where she’d never had one before.

“I suppose I did,” she murmured, finally breaking the silence, her voice a soft rumble.

Rava’s gaze never left her, and for once, the wolf-woman looked more unnerved than she’d been facing the revenant itself. “Vivienne… I don’t think you understand just how powerful those aetherbeasts are. A revenant like that—it’s almost untouchable. I might’ve stood a chance if I were fully armed, but even then…” She shook her head, awe and disbelief mixing in her eyes. “You just… walked up and devoured it.”

Vivienne stood there, contemplating the strange power she had just tapped into, her tendrils retracting as if sated after a meal. She glanced at Rava, whose eyes still held traces of that primal fear, now mixed with something close to awe.

Rava was usually unshakable, Vivienne had seen that much—but the way her lekine friend looked at her now held a weight that hadn’t been there before. For once, Vivienne could see Rava’s stone-like demeanour cracking, revealing the vulnerable figure underneath, still reeling from the clash with the revenant. The air around them seemed to hum with residual tension, the aether that once filled the creature now completely absorbed within Vivienne.

As Vivienne mulled over her thoughts, she ran her newly-formed tongue over the jagged, wolf-like teeth in her unexpected new mouth. It felt real, but also ephemeral, as if her body hadn’t quite settled on what form to take from the rush of absorbed aether. The memory flash from the revenant—a battlefield, the smell of blood, the echo of grief over fallen comrades—lingered at the edges of her awareness. And in the quiet, those memories felt hauntingly close to her own past, though foggy and half-forgotten.

“This is no simple meal, is it?” she finally said, glancing down at the helm left behind by the revenant. She nudged it with a tendril, almost expecting it to come alive again.

“No, it isn’t.” Rava’s voice was steady, but her hands trembled ever so slightly. “Revenants like that… They’re remnants of souls who’ve fallen to their deepest despair, left to wander and haunt places like these. They’re violent, strong, and have… a dark resilience. But they’re usually resistant to almost everything. I’ve never seen anyone just... consume one.”

Vivienne's form flickered, pulses of strange energy radiating from within her. She gave Rava a curious look, “You were afraid of it?”

Rava nodded. “You don’t know what it’s like to face one of those alone, cornered… They’re strong enough to shatter a fully armoured warrior. I’d need my equipment and a lot of luck to face one.” She hesitated, glancing at the shadows pooling ahead. “And there might be more.”

Vivienne straightened, considering her companion’s words. Her hunger was still there, pulsing within her core, but it was different now, sharper and more ravenous. She hadn’t just consumed the creature’s aether—she’d tasted its fears, its regrets, its past… a twisted blend of power and sorrow that felt deliciously tempting yet disconcerting all the same.

As they resumed their path, the silence between them was loaded with unspoken tension. The encounter had changed something in Vivienne, and Rava’s wariness had only heightened it.