Mother of Midnight

Chapter 68 – Party Crashers

After Vivienne had taken a moment to indulge in her grotesque sustenance, her claws slick with the remains of the fallen, she rose to her feet with renewed vigor. Her black eyes glimmered with a wicked intensity as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, a macabre smirk curling her bloodied lips.

“Nothing like a little snack to keep the energy up,” she murmured, her tone casual, almost playful, as if the carnage she’d left behind was of no consequence. She stretched, her mutilated body shifting with unsettling cracks and pops as damaged limbs adjusted to her needs. Though battered, her movements had regained a sinister fluidity, a clear signal to her enemies that she wasn’t finished yet.

Renzia, ever silent, stood nearby, her crimson drills gleaming in the faint light. She tilted her head in that peculiar, birdlike manner, as though studying Vivienne’s form with a mix of curiosity and silent approval.

“Shall we, sweetheart?” Vivienne asked, her voice honeyed as she extended a claw toward the mannequin. “We wouldn’t want to keep our dear host waiting.”

Without hesitation, Renzia followed, the pair moving through the winding corridors of the keep with an eerie combination of precision and menace. The walls seemed to close in around them as the air grew heavier, charged with an almost tangible tension. The further they went, the more apparent it became that the heart of this wretched stronghold was near.

They encountered smaller clusters of resistance as they advanced—lone guards and disorganized patrols, clearly remnants of the forces that had already tried and failed to stop them. Vivienne dispatched them with brutal efficiency, her claws and remaining limbs carving through armor and flesh like parchment. Meanwhile, Renzia’s movements were an unsettling mix of elegance and violence, her needles finding weak points with surgical precision.

It wasn’t long before the corridors gave way to a wider hall, its high ceilings casting ominous shadows in the flickering torchlight. Ahead, a set of massive iron-bound doors loomed, guarded by a small contingent of heavily armored soldiers. These were no ordinary guards; their stances were disciplined, their weapons glowing faintly with the unmistakable hum of enchanted steel.

Vivienne paused, her grin widening as she surveyed the scene. “Ah, now this is more like it,” she purred, her claws tapping rhythmically against the stone floor. “Think they’ll let us through if we ask nicely?”

Renzia made no response, but her posture shifted slightly, her needles poised for action while the soldiers brandished their weapons.

Vivienne sighed theatrically. “Guess not. Oh well.”

Before the soldiers could react, Vivienne sprang forward with shocking speed, her claws carving through the air. The guards moved to intercept her, but their enchanted blades, while formidable, couldn’t match the relentless ferocity of her attacks.

Renzia darted around the fray, her movements an uncanny blur as she slipped through the soldiers’ defenses. Her needles struck with pinpoint accuracy, slicing through joints and weak points in the enchanted armor. The soldiers faltered under the combined onslaught, their formation crumbling as Vivienne and Renzia cut through their ranks like a storm of steel and flesh.

When the last soldier crumpled to the floor, Vivienne stood before the towering double doors, her breath ragged but her grin unwavering. Blood oozed from the torn remains of her limbs, dripping in thick rivulets to pool around her feet. Her claws flexed absently, as if already anticipating the next encounter.

Behind her, Renzia stood amidst the carnage, eerily calm. Her head tilted slightly, her posture radiating an air of waiting—an unwavering, silent sentinel awaiting her mistress’s command.

Vivienne cast her a sidelong glance, her black eyes glittering with malicious delight. “Well, sweetheart,” she said, voice dripping with anticipation. “Let’s make an entrance they won’t forget.”

With a deep breath and a guttural snarl, Vivienne planted her claws against the iron-bound doors. Her body strained against the weight, but with a sharp cry of effort, the ancient hinges groaned in protest before the doors swung inward. The force didn’t send them flying, but it was enough to bend one of the hinges out of alignment, leaving the massive doors slightly askew.

The room beyond revealed itself to be a vast, high-ceilinged library. Rows of towering bookshelves stretched toward the shadows above, their shelves groaning under the weight of ancient tomes and scrolls. The scent of aged parchment and ink lingered in the air, almost masking the faint acrid tang of blood and sweat.

At the center of the room was a long, rectangular table, its surface dominated by a large map pinned beneath scattered notes, strange trinkets, and glowing markers. Gathered around it stood an eclectic mix of individuals.

Several lekines loomed near the edges, their twisted forms casting jagged shadows across the floor. Among them was what Vivienne guessed was a siren—their flowing robes and predatory grace reminiscent of the rare few Vivienne had seen in passing back in the cities. A goblin crouched on a high stool, her sharp, large eyes darting toward the intruders. Most notable, however, were the priests and priestesses, their pristine white-and-gold robes glowing faintly in the dim light, the unmistakable aura of the Aegis Sovereignty surrounding them like an oppressive weight.

The group froze, their gazes snapping toward the ruined doorway as Vivienne stepped into the room. The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the faint drip of blood from Vivienne’s claws onto the polished stone floor.

Vivienne’s grin widened, her arms spreading wide like a showman commanding the stage, her tone dripping with mockery and menace. “Well, little morsels,” she purred, her voice slithering through the air like smoke, “I have finally arrived.”

She strode into the room with a predator’s confidence, her blood-soaked claws glinting in the dim light. She dragged her pitch-black tongue languidly along one claw, savoring the taste with an exaggerated hum as her steps echoed across the library’s polished floor.

Her black eyes swept over the gathering, pausing briefly on each figure—a flicker of disdain for the goblin’s nervous fidgeting, a spark of curiosity for the siren’s poised stillness, and a lingering glare for the priests who instinctively stepped back. Finally, her gaze landed on the lekines standing closest to the table, their misshapen forms towering over the others.

“Which one of you,” she began, her voice almost playful, “is Skoll Rathik? I have a date with him, you see.” She tilted her head, her grin sharp and predatory.

One of the lekines stepped forward, his warped features twisted into something resembling a smirk. His voice was deep and gravelly, carrying a mixture of pride and disdain. “I am Skoll Rathik,” he said, spreading his arms as if to embrace her attention. “And you must be Lady Ravanyr’s new pet.”

Vivienne’s grin widened, radiating a twisted glee. “Pet?” she repeated, her voice dripping with mock offense as she placed a clawed hand dramatically against her chest. “Well, that’s quite the introduction. But I suppose it fits, given your penchant for betrayal.”

Rathik’s sneer deepened, his misshapen form bristling. “Watch your tongue, creature. I owe the Serkoth name nothing but disdain. You think I’ve betrayed Rava? No. You can’t betray something you never respected.”

Vivienne blinked, her grin faltering for a moment as she stared at him in exaggerated disbelief. “I can’t believe you just admitted to it that easily. That’s... really not how these things usually go.”

Rathik grumbled, his voice rising in irritation. “That’s because—”

“YOU AREN’T GETTING OUT OF HERE ALIVE!” Vivienne interrupted, mimicking his gravelly tone with unsettling accuracy. Her glee was palpable, her voice ringing out as she waved a claw theatrically in his direction. “That’s what you were going to say, wasn’t it? Come on, don’t leave me hanging!”

Rathik’s expression darkened, his lips curling in frustration as his jaw clenched.

“Oh, this is fantastic,” Vivienne continued, her grin growing wider, her fangs gleaming in the dim light. She gestured to the room at large, turning to address the gathered priests and soldiers. “Tell me—has he ever said ‘You have failed me for the last time’ before? Be honest!”

A few awkward glances passed between the gathered individuals, the flicker of recognition on their faces betraying them. Vivienne let out a fit of giggles, doubling over as if she’d just heard the most delightful joke. “Oh, he has! That’s priceless!”

Rathik’s growl was low and menacing, his fists clenching as he took a step forward. “You insolent little—”

“WORM!” Vivienne interrupted again, holding up a claw to stop him. “Oh wait—how about ‘You’ll regret crossing me’? No, no, I’ve got it: ‘Bow before your true master!’”

The sheer absurdity of her mockery broke the tension for a moment, confusion rippling through the room as even the goblin couldn’t suppress a nervous chuckle.

Rathik snarled, his patience snapping as he raised a clawed hand to silence her once and for all. “Enough of this! I’ll—”

“Die like all the rest!” Vivienne finished for him, her grin turning savage as she lunged forward with blinding speed. Her claws tore into his midsection before he could finish his threat, red blood splattering across the stone floor.

The room erupted into chaos as Rathik roared in pain, clutching his wound as Vivienne’s laughter filled the air. “Oh, darling,” she purred, her voice as sharp as her claws, “you really should have seen that coming.”

The gathered soldiers and priests sprang into action, weapons drawn and spells forming as the battle began in earnest. Vivienne’s black eyes gleamed with manic delight as she prepared to carve her way through the opposition.

The room exploded into chaos as Vivienne’s grin only widened, her bloodied claws twitching with anticipation. The first knight charged her with a feral shout, his blade gleaming with consecrated light. She sidestepped the strike with inhuman agility, grabbing his arm mid-swing and twisting it with a sickening crack. His scream was short-lived as she drove her claws into his chest, hurling him into a nearby priest and sending them both sprawling.

Behind her, Rathik growled, rising shakily to his feet. “You arrogant monster—”

Vivienne turned her head sharply, flashing him a fanged grin. “Wait your turn, darling.”

A lance of searing light shot toward her, a priest’s chant echoing through the chamber. Vivienne shifted, her ashen flesh rippling like water as her lithe frame grew bulkier and more robust. Her colossus form emerged, towering above the combatants as the light struck her chest, scorching her but failing to pierce her thickened hide. She snarled, the wound smoking, before sweeping a massive clawed hand through a group of soldiers. Their cries were cut short as they were crushed against a bookshelf, splinters and blood flying in all directions.

A siren raised her hands, her song a haunting melody that filled the room with an oppressive weight. Vivienne’s movement slowed, her limbs growing heavy as the siren’s magic took hold. “You’ll regret—”

“Wrong,” Vivienne interrupted with a guttural roar, slamming a massive hand onto the floor. The impact shattered stone and bookshelves alike, the shockwave sending the siren tumbling backward. With a growl, Vivienne’s form rippled again, shrinking into her drider shape. Her eight limbs scuttled along the walls, her movements now unsettlingly quick and precise.

The siren barely had time to rise before Vivienne was upon her, a sticky web shooting from her abdomen to pin her against the wall. “Don’t worry, darling,” she purred, her fangs inches from the siren’s face. “You’ll still be beautiful in death.” Her claws slashed once, silencing the melody forever.

The priests redoubled their efforts, glyphs glowing as they unleashed a barrage of holy light. Vivienne hissed as the beams struck her legs, severing two in an instant. She staggered, black ichor splattering across the ground, but her fury only burned hotter.

“Renzia!” Vivienne barked, her voice cutting through the chaotic din.

The mannequin sprang into motion, her body a blur of angular movements. Her needles flashed as she closed in on her first target, a priest hastily forming a protective spell. Renzia’s needle slashed upward, severing the tendons in his wrist and causing his glowing hands to falter. She spun with her usual mechanical precision, driving her other needle into the back of his leg, sending him crashing to the ground with a pained cry.

As she moved to disengage, her foot caught on the edge of his fallen staff, sending her into a stumble. Renzia wobbled, her head twitching rapidly as though recalibrating, before regaining her balance with an awkward hop.

A second priest lunged at her with a glowing dagger, emboldened by her apparent misstep. Renzia’s head tilted sharply, and she moved to counter, but her needle snagged on a loose strand of her dress mid-swing. The priest’s blade grazed her shoulder, slicing through the fabric and leaving a faint mark on the wood beneath. Renzia froze for a moment, as if processing the insult to her appearance, before yanking the needle free and driving it upward with sudden, brutal precision. The dagger clattered to the floor as the priest slumped against her, lifeless.

A soldier charged from her left, his halberd raised high. Renzia turned sharply to face him, her movements jerky as she adjusted for her earlier clumsiness. She ducked under his swing, but misjudged the angle and stumbled sideways, crashing into a small table. The table toppled, scattering candles and scrolls across the floor.

The soldier hesitated for a split second, startled by the blunder. Renzia capitalized on his hesitation, springing back to her feet and closing the distance with a single leap. Her needle slashed across his chest, carving through the leather of his armor and drawing a dark line of blood.

Another priest chanted furiously, light gathering in her hands. Renzia turned toward the sound, but her foot caught on a discarded tome, sending her careening sideways into a bookshelf. The impact sent books tumbling down around her, one even bouncing off her head with a hollow thunk.

For a moment, Renzia stood there, surrounded by the mess, her head tilted in what might have been confusion. Then, as if nothing had happened, she stepped out of the pile and dashed toward the priest. She vaulted over a broken chair with surprising grace, landing behind her target. A quick, precise jab of her needle silenced the priest mid-incantation, the light fading from her hands.

From across the room, Vivienne laughed. “Oh, darling, you’re a disaster! But it’s working, so keep at it!”

Renzia turned her head toward Vivienne, tilting it slightly before continuing her methodical culling of their enemies, her mechanical elegance marred only occasionally by her endearing mishaps.

Vivienne’s laughter died into a feral grin as her attention snapped back to the swirling chaos around her. The room had become a storm of flashing blades, burning spells, and cries of pain. It was perfect.

“Time to up the ante,” she muttered, her black eyes gleaming with savage delight.

Vivienne lunged at the nearest knight, dodging his swing with predatory grace. Her claws flashed as she slashed through his armor, the force of her strike sending him sprawling. She pounced on him before he could recover, sinking her claws deep into his chest and tearing free with a sickening crunch.

Another soldier came at her from the side, his spear thrusting toward her midsection. She twisted, catching the weapon between her claws and snapping it in half with ease. Her free hand lashed out, grabbing the man by the throat. “You should’ve brought a bigger stick,” she purred before flinging him across the room like a rag doll.

Her ears caught the telltale hum of a spell charging. Vivienne spun just as a priest unleashed a bolt of searing dawn aether. She barely dodged in time, the light grazing her side and scorching her flesh. A hiss of pain escaped her lips, but her grin only widened.

“Oh, you’ve got bite,” she growled, closing the distance in a heartbeat. The priest tried to form another spell, but Vivienne was faster. Her claws pierced through his robes, silencing him permanently.

From her periphery, she spotted a goblin scrambling toward the table, clutching a relic adorned with glowing runes. “No, no, no!” Vivienne taunted, leaping onto the table and sending maps and trinkets flying. “Not like this!” she mockingly cried as she descended upon the goblin like a shadow, her claws slicing through the air. She shrieked, but it was cut short as Vivienne’s strike hit home.

A sudden surge of heat made her snap her head around. Another siren had entered the fray, her hands wreathed in flames as she sang an ancient, haunting melody. The sound sent a ripple through the air, each note burning into Vivienne’s ears. She staggered, her vision blurring slightly as the magic of the song took hold.

“Oh, that’s clever,” Vivienne muttered, shaking her head as if to dislodge the sound. “But I hate clever.”

Vivienne snarled, shaking her head violently as the siren’s haunting song drilled into her mind, its melody twisting and burning. Her body responded instinctively, her flesh rippling and contorting in grotesque shifts.

“You like music?” she hissed, her voice low and guttural. “Then you’ll love this.”

Her torso swelled as her shoulders split apart, giving way to six long, muscular necks, each crowned with a savage head. Her existing tail thickened and extended, its spiked tip slamming into the stone floor with a deafening crack. Her limbs morphed, becoming powerful legs tipped with talons capable of rending steel. Ebony scales spread across her body, gleaming like polished onyx under the dim light.

The siren faltered mid-note, her fiery aura sputtering out as Vivienne’s hydra form fully manifested. All six heads let out a cacophony of roars, their combined voices reverberating through the chamber like an unholy symphony.

“Run,” hissed one head, its jaws snapping shut with a thunderous clack.

“Hide,” growled another, its forked tongue flicking through the air.

“Neither will save you,” purred a third, its tone dripping with malice.

The siren screamed as one of Vivienne’s heads lunged, fangs bared. She narrowly avoided the attack, diving to the side, but another head struck with terrifying speed, clamping onto her leg. With a violent twist, it sent her flying into a row of bookshelves, the ancient tomes collapsing around her in a cloud of dust.

The remaining clergy and knights scrambled to regroup, their formation fracturing under the weight of terror. One priest managed to conjure a shield of holy light, but Vivienne’s central head slammed into it, shattering the barrier with a single, brutal strike. Another head followed, its jaws closing around the priest’s midsection and silencing his cries in an instant.

Across the room, Renzia continued her chaotic battle, weaving through the fray with mechanical grace, though her movements were not without flaws. She stumbled over a shattered table, her foot catching awkwardly before she corrected herself, but not before toppling a knight in the process. As he tried to recover, her needle-like fingers pierced his throat, an unintentional precision that left the enemy lifeless on the ground.

From her vantage, Vivienne’s central head turned to observe Renzia’s awkward yet effective assault. “You’re doing great, sweetie!” the head hissed with a hint of amusement. Another head let out a hissing laugh.

The chaotic slaughter came to a halt as the air suddenly grew dense, a deep hum reverberating through the room. All six of Vivienne’s heads turned simultaneously toward the far wall as a swirling vortex of black and gold light began to form.

The portal expanded, and from it stepped a figure cloaked in long, flowing robes, their features hidden beneath a hood. A faint metallic glint caught the light where their face should have been. The figure exuded an air of cold authority, their movements unnervingly smooth and deliberate.

“Meddlers,” the figure said, their voice metallic and reverberant, cutting through the chaos like a blade. “You’ve done enough damage for one day.”

Vivienne’s heads tilted in unison, her multiple voices harmonizing in a low, threatening growl. “And who might you be?” one head demanded. 

“A snack?” Asked another.

“Or a plaything?” another added, its jaws snapping eagerly.

The figure ignored her taunts, raising a robed hand as golden light enveloped the injured clergy and knights still clinging to life. Their wounds began to knit together, and their terror-stricken forms steadied as the light bolstered them.

Vivienne’s heads snarled, and her claws gouged deep grooves into the stone beneath her. “Oh, this will be fun,” one head sneered.

“Stop playing healer,” another hissed, “and fight me already!”

The figure turned toward her, their hand still aglow. “You are a blight upon this world,” they intoned, their voice steady. “But your time will come. This may not be your hour to fall as I am not powerful enough, but my sister is, and she has your scent.”

Vivienne lunged, her six heads surging forward with jaws wide open, but the figure made a swift gesture, conjuring a barrier of golden light that threw her back with a deafening impact. She hissed in frustration, her heads snapping at the shimmering wall.

The figure lowered their hand, and a crackle of swirling energy began to form within their palm, its light shifting between black and gold. The air crackled with raw power as the figure’s presence grew even more oppressive.

With a single motion, the figure hurled the orb forward, and a wave of pure aether burst through the room like a tidal wave, its energy distorting the very fabric of reality. The raw power, both beautiful and terrifying, struck Vivienne square in the body with a sound that seemed to tear the very air apart.

The blast tore into her form, sending waves of searing pain through her body. Her heads flailed and hissed in agony, the scales along her six heads warping and cracking under the energy’s assault. Her claws dug into the stone floor as she tried to resist the overwhelming force, but it surged through her body, twisting her senses and corrupting her form.

Her vision blurred, the edges of her consciousness warping as she struggled to maintain her grip on reality. The aetherium was rewriting everything—her body, her existence—pushing her to the brink of something far darker. It was as if the world was erasing her, forcing her into oblivion. But Vivienne fought it.

Her six heads snapped, thrashing in desperation as the power continued to tear through her. Her hydra form writhed, the energy singing through her veins, yet she refused to collapse.

Through the pain, she felt something—someone—moving through the room with purpose. A dark silhouette moving in the periphery of her vision. It was the figure that had summoned the destructive spell, and their focus shifted. But they were not alone.

A sudden flash of light caught Vivienne’s attention as a new presence ripped through the fabric of reality. A portal opened—a swirling vortex of dark energy—and a figure emerged. This one was different—warrior-like in their posture, shrouded in shadows, their movements swift and decisive. Vivienne recognised it, like it was instinctual. She knew what it felt like to witness someone with a mark on their soul from a god now that her pool was a bit larger. They were a champion, unmistakably.

As the portal widened, the champion wasted no time. They moved directly to the surviving priests and soldiers, their powerful form cutting through the room like a shadow in the night. One by one, they gathered the survivors—the Aegis priests, the goblin, and the siren—each of them looking battered but alive, their faces filled with desperation.

The figure held out their hand, a soft incantation on their lips, and the space around them began to ripple with energy. Before Vivienne could react, a surge of light enveloped the survivors, and they began to fade from sight, whisked away through the portal with a force that kept them safe from Vivienne’s fury.

The champion, standing tall and impervious, looked briefly toward Vivienne with an almost disinterested glance. They had seen her survive the strike, and though they didn't speak, their expression hinted at an acknowledgment of her resilience.

Vivienne’s jaws snapped as the last of the survivors vanished, frustration burning in her chest. But she couldn’t afford to focus on that. Her body—her form—was still being ravaged by the aether, and though her regeneration was working tirelessly to heal her, it was a slow battle.

"You escape now," Vivienne growled, her voice low and pained as she regained some semblance of control. "But you won’t always have that advantage."

The portal flickered, closing slowly as the champion’s final glance held a coldness that sent a chill through Vivienne's battered form.

The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of the battle hanging heavy in the air. Vivienne, barely holding her form together, stood tall, her six heads hissing in defiance. "I’ll hunt you all down," she muttered, her words drenched in venom. "You can run. But you won’t hide forever."

With that, the last flicker of the portal vanished into nothingness, leaving Vivienne alone once more, the chamber silent save for the sound of her breathing, her body still healing as the damage from the reality warping spell began to slowly repair itself.