Mother of Midnight

Chapter 71 – Returning Home

The journey back to the surface was a quiet one, save for the occasional skirmish with the misshapen humanoid aetherbeasts that still wandered the labyrinth beneath the fortress. The creatures, remnants of the twisted rituals that had taken place within the depths, posed little challenge to Vivienne and Renzia. With a few sharp strikes from Vivienne's claws and a flurry of precise movements from Renzia, each encounter was swiftly resolved. The beasts, made of unstable, aether-infused flesh, were no match for the pair’s raw power, and their mangled forms ended up feeding Vivienne’s already insatiable hunger.

The deeper they ventured toward the surface, the more Vivienne could feel the oppressive weight of the fortress’s aura lifting, the air growing fresher, the murkiness of the underworld receding. It wasn’t long before they reached the surface—the faint, fading light of early evening breaking through the cracks of the abandoned bakery’s once-secure walls. The town outside was settling into the quiet of dusk, the sound of distant chatter and the clinking of metal as the final few workers wrapped up their day’s toil. The breeze carried with it the faint scent of distant smoke and the bitter tang of salt from the ocean, an air that felt both familiar and foreign to her in this state.

Vivienne grimaced, her bare skin exposed to the growing chill, though her black scales glistened under the dim light. Clothes, she thought with a sharp flick of her tail, That would be nice right about now. But for the moment, discretion was the better part of valor. She kept close to the shadows, sticking to the alleyways that wove between the crumbling buildings. Her body, though stunning in its curvaceous prime form, was uncomfortably exposed, and she cursed the inconvenience of it.

Twice, she was spotted. The first time, it was a group of children playing too close to the alley, their eyes wide as they gasped at her form before running off to whisper behind a wall. Vivienne barely gave it a thought. The second time, a disheveled merchant caught sight of her as he hurried home, his face going pale when he realized just who—or what—he was seeing. Vivienne flashed him a sharp smile, her many eyes narrowing in playful amusement, and the merchant, frozen in fear, turned and hurried away without a word. She had to admit, the sheer power of her presence was amusing.

The trio slipped into the clanhall grounds unnoticed, entering through one of the side servants' entrances. It was a quiet, unassuming route, but it led them directly into the heart of the building. The air inside was thick with the familiar scents of oil, wax, and the faint trace of incense. But their return wasn’t as smooth as they’d hoped. As they passed through a shadowy corridor, they suddenly bumped into one of the servants—a middle aged lekine woman who had previously delivered Vivienne’s last dress two days prior. The servant’s eyes widened in surprise as she recognized Vivienne, her gaze lingering just a bit too long on her exposed form.

“Oh! Lady Vivienne! What are you doing here?” The servant stammered, her eyes flicking between Vivienne, the mannequin, and the goblin, clearly confused and a little nervous.

Vivienne’s expression remained nonchalant, her lips curling into a casual smile. “Oh, just out for a stroll,” she replied with an air of effortless charm, as though her nudity was the least interesting thing about the moment.

The servant’s face flushed as she nervously shifted her weight. “But… you’re naked. Again.”

Vivienne glanced down at her curvaceous form with a mock expression of shock. She clicked her tongue in exaggerated frustration. “Gosh darn it! You’re right. I swear, I left with clothing. Why does this keep happening?” She let out a dramatic sigh, making a show of feeling inconvenienced, though her eyes gleamed with amusement.

Kivvy, who had been silently observing the exchange, stifled a small giggle. Meanwhile, Renzia stood still, her wooden frame creaking slightly as she turned her head to look at the servant, unbothered by the awkward tension.

The servant fidgeted, clearly unsure whether to laugh or apologize for her obvious discomfort. “Well, um, would you like me to fetch something for you, Lady Vivienne?” she asked hesitantly.

Vivienne paused thoughtfully, before a grin spread across her face. “No, I’ll figure something out. You may leave.” Vivienne said with a dismissive wave, the servant more than eager to leave. “Well, I better go report to Narek.” She huffed.

Vivienne’s steps were light but purposeful as she made her way through the twisting hallways of the clanhall, ignoring the startled glances from the occasional passing servant. She was aware of the stares, the whispers, but it hardly mattered. What was a few eyes on her body compared to the tasks she had at hand? No, the only thing that truly mattered now was finding Narek’s office, and she was growing impatient with the search.

The tall, looming doors of his office came into view at the end of the hallway, and with a wicked smile, Vivienne picked up her pace. She strode confidently toward them, her sharp nails clicking against the stone floor with each step. The guards stationed at the door barely had time to react before she shoved her way inside, not bothering to knock or wait for permission.

Narek’s bedroom was exactly as Vivienne had remembered it—dark wood furniture, shelves laden with books and scrolls, the ever-present scent of dried herbs and ink. Narek himself was standing near his desk, glancing up in shock as the door flew open.

“Lady Vivienne!” he stammered, visibly startled by her sudden entrance. His eyes quickly flicked downward, realizing her state of undress. “What—what are you doing here? And… you’re…” His words trailed off as he shifted uncomfortably, clearly not expecting the scene before him.

Vivienne grinned, her eyes glittering with mischief. “I’m here to see you, Narek. Now, can we skip the formalities, or should I continue enjoying your stunned silence?” She closed the gap between them, her form both alluring and imposing. She leaned in slightly, forcing him to look directly at her. “I have an important matter to discuss, but first—”

She paused dramatically, eyes narrowing as she gestured at herself. “—I seem to be lacking in attire. You wouldn’t happen to have something to spare, would you?”

Narek’s face flushed crimson, and he sputtered, clearly at a loss for words. “I—uh—I can’t believe this—there must be—er… I can find something for you to wear! Just give me a moment!” His voice cracked slightly as he stumbled around the room, opening drawers and rifling through his wardrobe, searching for something to cover Vivienne with.

Vivienne, unmoved and thoroughly entertained by his flustered state, leaned casually against the desk. She folded her arms, her expression a mix of amusement and silent command. "Take your time, Narek. It’s not like I have anywhere else to be.” Her eyes scanned the room, pretending to be nonchalant, though her gaze flickered to the window, watching the fading light of dusk.

Narek returned a few moments later with a thick, heavy sheet in his hands, his face still red from embarrassment. “This is all I could find!” he blurted, holding it out toward her with an almost pleading expression.

Vivienne raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “A sheet?” she repeated, her voice low and dangerously amused. “This is the best you could do?” She glanced down at the sheet, then back at him, her smile curving into something darker. “Well, I suppose it’ll have to do, won’t it?”

Without waiting for his response, Vivienne took the sheet and wrapped it around herself, the fabric barely covering her in the most improper and disheveled way. She let the corners of the sheet fall loosely, almost teasingly, as she continued to look at him.

“That’s better,” Vivienne purred, her tone dripping with satisfaction as she settled the sheet over herself in an almost theatrical manner. “Now, I’m here to give my final report.”

Narek collapsed back into his chair, rubbing his temples with an audible groan. “So, is Lyssandro guilty or not?”

Vivienne tapped her chin thoughtfully, tilting her head as if the name didn’t quite register. “Who?” she asked innocently. Then her expression shifted as realization dawned. “Oh, right. Him. Honestly? I don’t know. Seemed to be against the traitors.”

Narek stared at her, his exasperation palpable. “You’ve been gone for two days, and you don’t know? What have you been doing?”

Vivienne offered a nonchalant shrug, her claws clicking softly against the desk as she leaned in. “Well, the person Lyssandro sent me after? He was tied to some human called Laiken. Turns out she was working for Rathik. And Rathik, oh, you’ll love this—he was holed up in the undercity, in a massive fortress carved into a cavern. Inside? A very troublesome orb of Dawn Aether. Nasty thing burned me. Basically a second sun”

Narek’s brows knit together, his concern deepening. “A second sun? That sounds dangerous. And Rathik? In the undercity? With a fortress? What else?”

Vivienne smirked, savoring his reaction as she continued. “Oh, it gets better. The place was swarming with an alliance of forces—Sovereignty of Aegis and Rathik’s own men. They were using portals to move in and out, sneaky bastards. The whole setup stinks of something big.”

“And the fortress now?” Narek pressed. “The soldiers?”

Her grin widened, sharp and predatory. “I killed and ate most of them. They attacked me, and since they’re enemies of the state, I figured it was only polite to cull the herd. The fortress is still standing, but most of the survivors escaped through the portal. I left one priest alive—well, mostly. Took his other leg. He’s probably still crawling around down there.”

She gestured toward the goblin who had been standing quietly by the door, her sharp grin softening into something resembling amusement. “Oh, and I freed a prisoner. Isn’t that right, Kivvy?”

The goblin, who had been trying very hard to blend into the background, flinched at the sudden attention. “Uh, y-yes,” Kivvy stammered, her voice squeaky. “Very free. Definitely not in chains anymore.”

Narek glanced between them, his expression a mix of disbelief and weariness. “A fortress hidden under our noses, portals, Rathik, and Sovereignty forces. This just keeps getting worse. And now you’ve brought back a goblin.” He sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Vivienne, what exactly am I supposed to do with all of this?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Vivienne replied breezily. “Tell the high fang. Summon the council. Start another war. I’ve done my part, Narek. The rest is above my pay grade.”

“You don’t have a pay grade,” Narek muttered under his breath, his voice tinged with weary irritation.

“And that’s why I’m so good at what I do,” Vivienne replied, flashing a mischievous wink. As she shifted her stance, the sheet slipped just enough to make Narek hastily avert his eyes, a flush creeping into his cheeks.

“Now that that little diversion is over,” she continued, her tone breezy, “shall I continue to ingratiate myself with Lyssandro? You know, get all cozy and figure out just how much dirt is under those perfectly manicured nails?”

Narek looked as though he might keel over from sheer exasperation. With a long-suffering sigh, he waved her off dismissively. “Do as you please, Vivienne. Just… just don’t make it worse.”

Vivienne clacked her claws together with giddy enthusiasm, her grin widening. “Very good! I shall leave no secret unturned, no traitor uneaten, and… uh… a third thing! Something impressive, I’m sure. Not important.”

Narek pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something unintelligible under his breath. Finally, he gestured toward the door, his tone clipped. “Please. Just get out of my bedroom.”

“Gladly,” Vivienne quipped, spinning on her heel with dramatic flair. The sheet swirled around her like a makeshift toga as she sashayed toward the door. “Don’t wait up!”

She disappeared into the hallway, leaving Narek to sink into his chair, muttering darkly about what he’d done to deserve this particular brand of chaos.

The trio gathered in the room that had been assigned to Vivienne upon her arrival in Serkoth. It was sparsely decorated, functional rather than luxurious, though clearly meant to accommodate someone of importance. A large bed with dark, heavy linens dominated the center, flanked by matching nightstands, while a wardrobe and a simple writing desk lined the far wall. Dust clung to the corners of the room, betraying its lack of use.

Vivienne perched herself on the edge of the bed, the sheet she still wore draped lazily over her form. Her claws idly traced patterns on the bedspread as she surveyed her unusual company. She hadn’t spent much time in this room since arriving. She didn’t need to sleep, after all, and her days (and nights) had been… occupied.

Her gaze flickered to Renzia, who stood near the door like a silent sentinel. The mannequin’s head tilted slightly, almost expectantly, as if awaiting some unspoken command. Poor dear, Vivienne mused. Renzia seemed utterly adrift without guidance, clinging to Vivienne as her anchor. The thought stirred an odd mixture of amusement and protectiveness in her.

Then there was Kivvy, perched awkwardly on a chair by the desk. The goblin fidgeted, her sharp eyes darting around the room as though expecting some hidden trap to spring. Vivienne studied her for a moment, considering her options. Kivvy had proven resourceful and entertaining, but she wasn’t sure how long that would last. With some coin, Kivvy could likely get by on her own. Perhaps she should have looted more from the fortress; a few valuables might have made things easier.

She sighed, leaning back on her hands. “Well, this is cozy,” she drawled, breaking the silence. “I suppose I should figure out what to do with you.”

Kivvy’s large ears twitched, and she gave Vivienne a wary look. “Uh, do with me?”

“Don’t sound so nervous, darling,” Vivienne replied, flashing a toothy grin. “I don’t eat everyone I meet. Just the ones who deserve it.”

“That’s… reassuring?” Kivvy muttered, though her tone suggested otherwise.

“Of course.” Hummed Vivienne. “Well I suppose I should find Rava. She will know what to do.” 

Vivienne rose to her feet, the sheet draped over her like some makeshift gown. Her claws clicked softly against the floor as she made her way toward the door. “You two behave while I’m gone,” she said over her shoulder, a teasing lilt in her voice. “And Renzia, keep an eye on our little guest, won’t you?”

Renzia inclined her head in a smooth, almost reverent motion, while Kivvy muttered something under her breath about not needing to be babysat. Vivienne smirked but didn’t linger, slipping out into the corridor with an air of purpose.

The clanhall was bustling with activity, though Vivienne moved through it like a shadow, her sharp eyes scanning for any sign of Lady Ravanyr. Servants and warriors alike gave her a wide berth, their gazes lingering uneasily on the disheveled figure in the stolen sheet. She paid them little mind, her focus singular.

After wandering through several wings of the clanhall, Vivienne finally spotted Rava in a quiet corner of the training grounds. The towering lupine figure stood with her back to Vivienne, speaking in low tones to a group of younger warriors. Her presence was commanding, her every movement purposeful.

Vivienne felt a strange flutter in her chest as she approached, her steps quickening. Without warning, she darted forward and threw her arms around Rava from behind, squeezing tightly.

“Rava!” she exclaimed, her voice tinged with genuine warmth. “I missed you so much!”

The warriors standing nearby froze, their expressions a mixture of shock and confusion. Rava stiffened for a moment before turning her head slightly, one brow arching as she glanced down at Vivienne’s unorthodox attire.

“Vivienne,” she said, her tone wry but not unkind. “You’re… underdressed.”

Vivienne grinned up at her, unbothered. “Oh, this? It’s a fashion statement. Very avant-garde.”

Rava sighed, gently prying Vivienne’s arms loose so she could turn and face her properly. “What have you been up to? You look like you’ve been through a war.”

“Close enough,” Vivienne said with a dramatic flourish. “I’ve been investigating, eating traitors, fighting aether beasts, and unraveling conspiracies. You know, the usual.”

Rava shot her a frown but didn’t press further. Instead, she placed a clawed hand on Vivienne’s shoulder, her grip firm yet comforting. “Let’s go somewhere more private. I think we have much to discuss.”

“Lead the way, my lady,” Vivienne said with a playful bow, though there was genuine respect in her voice.

As they walked, Vivienne felt a sense of relief wash over her. She was back in familiar company, with someone she trusted. For the first time in days, she felt a little less like a monster and a little more like herself.