Mother of Midnight

Chapter 87 – Please Don’t Believe Me

The task of selecting a wagon didn’t take long. The warehouse held a variety in different sizes and designs, but practicality was the deciding factor. They settled on a sturdy one with a weathered canopy, large enough to shield supplies and passengers from the elements while accommodating Vivienne’s harness. The heavy wooden frame looked rugged, with iron-rimmed wheels built to endure rough terrain.

Once the selection was made, Vivienne was hitched to the wagon for an experimental test drive. The moment she began pulling, it became apparent just how effortless the task was for her. The wagon rolled forward smoothly, its weight negligible against her immense strength. She walked a few laps around the warehouse yard, her claws clicking softly against the cobblestones, tail wagging in satisfaction.

Rava crossed her arms, watching with a raised brow. “Well?”

Vivienne turned her head slightly, the harness snug but comfortable against her fur. “A breeze,” she said, her voice carrying a playful edge. “Even packed, I doubt it’ll be much of a challenge. Honestly, I expected more of a workout.”

“Good,” Rava replied dryly. “The last thing I need is you complaining halfway through the trip.”

After confirming the cart would meet their needs, they unhitched Vivienne and finished organizing the rest of the equipment. The laborers helped adjust the harness straps and secure the canopy, all while stealing wary glances at the enormous wolf.

Then, with their work complete, Vivienne decided it was time to shift back. She moved to a less crowded corner of the yard, and with a fluid motion, her hulking lupine form melted away. Her fur receded into smooth skin, and her towering stature condensed into her humanoid shape. The transformation was seamless, leaving her standing there in her dress, the collar once fitted to her wolf’s neck now an elegant adornment around her throat.

The laborers froze, their chatter dying instantly. Several of them exchanged bewildered looks, the color draining from their faces. One of the burlier men dropped the rope he’d been coiling, staring at Vivienne like she’d just sprouted another head.

“What... what in the hells?” one muttered under his breath.

Vivienne offered them her most dazzling smile, her black eyes glinting mischievously. “Surprised?” she purred, brushing imaginary dust from her sleeves as if nothing unusual had happened.

The uneasy silence stretched until Rava stepped in, her tone dry and unimpressed. “You’ll get used to it. Or you won’t. Either way, let’s move.” She gestured for Vivienne to follow, leaving the laborers to process what they’d just witnessed.

Rava informed Vivienne that the cart would be brought to the clan hall by the following morning, sparing them the trouble of moving it themselves. With that settled, the two headed back to the hall, the day’s tasks completed. The rest of the evening was spent in a mild flurry of activity as they searched for Kivvy, who had predictably wandered off somewhere. After locating her—half-asleep on the roof of the stable, much to their exasperation—they shared a simple dinner and retired early for the night.

Or at least, most of them did.

Vivienne found herself restless. Long after the hall had quieted, its residents either sleeping or busy with their own muted routines, she slipped out into the cool night. The streets of Serkoth were quieter than usual, though flickering lanterns still illuminated pockets of activity. The distant sounds of carts rumbling and occasional laughter drifted through the air, but Vivienne ignored it all.

She was searching for solitude, for an opportunity to reflect. And, more importantly, to experiment.

In the shadows of an empty alley, she allowed her body to shift. Her form rippled and warped as she recalled one of the first shapes she had ever taken—long before her recent transformations, long before she had truly come to understand her abilities.

The Sunwake Lynx.

The transformation was seamless, and yet, as her body settled, she realized that something about this form had changed drastically. Her fur, which had once gleamed in golden hues like the break of dawn, was now as black as ink, save for intricate golden patterns that traced along her frame like a web of starlight. She glanced down, flexing a paw, watching the sleek, dark fur ripple with movement.

Her eyes—once bright amber—had shifted as well. Now, they were shadowy pools flecked with gold, like tiny eclipses burning within the darkness.

Vivienne padded forward, the movement as smooth and soundless as flowing water. Her claws barely kissed the ground, and every step felt like she was poised on the edge of a leap, the kind of agility that begged to be tested. This form was different. Faster. Lighter. As if it had shed unnecessary weight and refined itself into something sharper, deadlier.

Her senses sharpened in tandem, the faintest sounds and scents pulling her attention with an almost overwhelming clarity. She could smell the distant smoke of a baker’s oven, hear the rustle of paper from a shopkeeper locking up for the night. Even the air tasted different, rich with the faint metallic tang of moonlight and shadows.

“What have you become?” she murmured to herself, her voice a low purr that resonated oddly with her new form.

A flicker of motion caught her eye—a moth flitting through the dim light of a lantern far down the street. Before she could consciously process it, she was moving. Her body coiled and sprang forward in one fluid motion, a blur of black and gold streaking through the alley. She landed silently, her paws striking the ground with precision. The moth, oblivious, fluttered away.

Vivienne tilted her head, a slow smile tugging at the corners of her feline mouth. She crouched low, testing the tension in her muscles, before springing again, leaping onto the rooftop above. The world opened up before her, the sprawling city bathed in a mix of moonlight and shadows.

Vivienne leapt gracefully onto a nearby rooftop, her movements fluid and silent as she prowled across the city’s elevated expanse. The wind rushed past her ears, carrying with it the faint, mingling scents of wood smoke, cooking spices, and the distant salt of some preserved fish. The city was a maze of interconnected rooftops and narrow alleys, and Vivienne explored it with the predatory ease of her lynx form. Her dark fur melted into the shadows, the golden patterns shimmering faintly under the moonlight as she moved.

Hours passed as she roamed, her heightened senses absorbing every detail of the night. But as she reached the edge of a marketplace, she froze. A sharp cry of alarm pierced the quiet, shattering the rhythm of her exploration. Her ears twitched, swiveling toward the source of the sound.

Without hesitation, she bounded forward, her powerful legs carrying her swiftly across the rooftops. Each leap was effortless, each landing whisper-silent. The cry had come from a dimly lit side street, and as she approached, Vivienne crouched low, peering down at the scene below.

Peering down from the edge of a rooftop, she spotted the source of the disturbance in a narrow alley below. Three lekines stood in a semicircle, their stances aggressive and predatory. Cornered against the far wall were two figures: a younger lekine man standing protectively in front of a human man who was slumped against the stone, his breathing labored. The human’s tunic was torn and bloodied, and one of his hands clutched his side as if trying to stem the flow of an unseen wound.

“You should’ve stayed out of Serkoth, human,” one of the aggressors growled, their voice dripping with disdain. “We don’t want your kind here.”

The human didn’t reply, his eyes half-lidded and glassy, but he leaned slightly against the lekine in front of him. The younger lekine straightened his back, his posture defiant despite the odds.

“Humans are welcome here, just like anyone else,” he said, his voice firm despite the tremor Vivienne detected in his hands. “This city isn’t just yours. He belongs here as much as I do.”

The tallest of the aggressors sneered, stepping closer. His scarred face twisted in mockery. “What, is he your little pet? Or did you just take pity on the wretch? Either way, he doesn’t belong. We take care of our own here, not theirs.”

The younger lekine’s shoulders stiffened, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “He’s under my protection,” he said, his voice low and filled with resolve. “If you want him, you’ll have to get through me first.”

The scarred one chuckled darkly, his eyes glinting with malice. “That can be arranged.”

Vivienne felt her fur bristle, the golden markings along her coat flaring faintly as the tension in the air grew. The younger lekine’s stance, the way he shielded the human, and the way his tail flicked protectively behind him spoke volumes. This wasn’t just a matter of duty—this was personal.

Without hesitation, Vivienne leapt from the rooftop, landing with a soft thud directly behind the aggressors. The force of her landing sent a faint tremor through the cobblestones, and her towering lynx form cast an imposing shadow over the alley.

The attackers froze, their bravado draining as they turned to face her. She stood tall, her sleek black fur and intricate gold patterns glowing faintly in the dim light. Her dark eyes, flecked with gold, locked onto them with a predatory intensity.

Her voice was low and smooth, carrying a dangerous edge as she broke the silence. “You don’t seem to understand. Only the Serkoth family decides who is welcome and who is not.” Her gaze swept over the aggressors, her claws flexing slightly. “If equality frightens you so much, perhaps you should leave.”

“Aether beast” said one of the aggressors under his breath, and the others froze. Vivienne could feel the fear emanating off each of them and she drew the faint wisps into her body.

The tallest lekine sneered, though there was a flicker of uncertainty in his eyes. "It’s just a beast. It bleeds like anything else." He gripped the hilt of his sword, stepping forward to rally his comrades. “We kill it, same as we’ve done before.”

Vivienne chuckled, the sound low and rich, vibrating through the air like a predator’s growl. Her fur shimmered faintly, the gold patterns along her sleek black body catching what little light there was. She stepped forward, her movements fluid and unnervingly deliberate. “Oh, sweet thing,” she purred, her voice dripping with mockery, “you think you’ve faced something like me before? How precious.”

The shorter lekine, standing at the edge of the group, took an involuntary step back. “It’s talking,” he whispered, terror lacing his voice. “Aether beasts don’t talk.”

Vivienne’s grin widened, baring sharp teeth that gleamed like polished ivory. “Oh, darling, I’m full of surprises. But you won’t have time to learn them all.”

The tallest lekine didn’t wait; with a shout meant to embolden his comrades, he lunged forward, his blade slicing through the air. The others hesitated for a moment before following his lead, weapons drawn.

Vivienne moved with an eerie, predatory grace. She sidestepped the leader’s attack effortlessly, her claws flashing out in a quick, brutal arc. Blood sprayed as his arm was torn open from elbow to wrist, his sword clattering to the ground. He screamed, staggering back, clutching his mangled limb.

The others faltered, their resolve crumbling as Vivienne advanced. She struck again, her paw lashing out to send one of the lekines crashing into the alley wall. The impact knocked the breath from his lungs, and he crumpled to the ground, gasping for air.

The third tried to run, his courage evaporating in the face of her overwhelming presence, but Vivienne was faster. She leapt forward, her powerful body covering the distance in an instant. Her jaws closed around his ankle, and with a sharp yank, she dragged him back, tossing him to the ground like a discarded toy.

She stood over him, her golden-flecked eyes glowing with predatory delight. "Going somewhere?" she asked, her tone almost playful, as she pressed a paw against his chest, pinning him firmly in place.

The scarred leader staggered to his feet, his injured arm hanging uselessly at his side. “This isn’t... this isn’t possible,” he muttered, his voice shaking. “You’re... you’re not natural.”

Vivienne tilted her head, her grin widening. “Natural?” she echoed, as if tasting the word. “Oh no, darling. I’m so much worse than that.”

The human and lekine couple stood frozen, watching the scene unfold with wide eyes. The younger lekine, still shielding his partner instinctively, whispered, “What is she?”

Vivienne turned her head toward them briefly, her sharp teeth glinting in the dim light. “Someone you’ll thank later.”

Her attention snapped back to the aggressors. The air was thick with the scent of fear now, rich and intoxicating. Vivienne could feel the aether-laden wisps coursing through her, invigorating her as if she were feeding on their terror itself.

The leader’s defiance finally broke. “We surrender!” he shouted, his voice desperate. “Just let us go!”

Vivienne’s grin turned razor-sharp, her tone dripping with dark amusement. “Oh, you misunderstand. Surrender was only an option before you attacked me. But not anymore.”

She moved with lethal precision, her form a blur of black and gold. Her claws raked through the air, meeting flesh and armor alike, while her fangs tore into the aggressors with merciless efficiency. The tallest lekine barely managed a gasp before her claws opened his throat, and his body crumpled to the ground in a lifeless heap. The second barely had time to raise his blade before Vivienne's paw batted it aside with ease, the force sending him sprawling before her teeth found his neck.

The last aggressor, trembling uncontrollably, tried to scramble away. He crawled on hands and knees, muttering desperate prayers under his breath. Vivienne pounced on him in a single, graceful leap, pinning him to the cobblestones. His screams were short-lived as she silenced him with a crushing bite.

The alley fell silent, save for the faint drip of blood pooling around the discarded remains. The metallic tang hung heavy in the air, mingling with the lingering scent of fear that clung to the walls.

Vivienne turned her dark, glimmering gaze toward the couple. Her golden-flecked eyes locked onto theirs, and they froze, trembling where they stood. “You should leave,” she said, her tone calm yet carrying a chilling undercurrent.

They hesitated, too terrified to move.

“Now,” she purred, her voice like velvet laced with malice, her fur shimmering ominously under the dim light.

The younger lekine, his protective instincts overridden by sheer terror, clutched his human partner and stumbled away, dragging the man with him. They didn’t look back as they disappeared into the shadows, their hurried footsteps echoing faintly in the distance.

Vivienne turned her attention to the remains of her prey, licking the blood from her muzzle with slow, deliberate satisfaction. Being in the middle of the city, she couldn’t afford to leave any evidence behind. The authorities would have far too many questions, and she wasn’t in the mood for an interrogation.

Her body shimmered, and in an instant, she shifted into her formless base state. Once a small, unassuming shape, it had grown into a massive, amorphous shadow, pulsating with dark energy. It loomed over the alley, a towering black mass adorned with faint, golden ripples like veins of molten light. The remnants of her victims—their bodies, saturated with aether and terror—lay waiting.

With an almost languid motion, Vivienne’s formless shape spread outward, engulfing the bodies entirely. They dissolved into her mass, their essence drawn into her like wine absorbed by a sponge. The taste was exquisite: rich with the flavor of fear, adrenaline, and the lingering echo of their futile resistance.

Her body pulsed as she fed, her edges rippling with delight. The fear-laced aether from the aggressors flooded her senses, invigorating her like a feast after a long hunger. Piece by piece, they disappeared, leaving only scraps of their clothing, tarnished jewelry, and weapons scattered on the bloodstained cobblestones.

When the last trace of their forms had been consumed, Vivienne retracted, shrinking back into herself. Her mass coalesced, reforming into the sleek, elegant shape of the eclipse lynx. The golden patterns along her fur shimmered faintly, like embers in the night, and her golden-flecked eyes glowed with renewed vitality.

She surveyed the alley one final time, ensuring no evidence of the massacre remained, save for the scattered, lifeless trinkets. Satisfied, she turned and padded silently into the night, her form blending seamlessly into the shadows. The city lay before her, quiet and unaware of the predator that roamed its streets.