Vivienne stretched out, settling into the soft cushions of her chair as she sighed contentedly, allowing the tension of the day to lt away. The day had been unexpectedly rewarding. Visiting Mizzra had proved to be more profitable than she could’ve imagined. All she’d done was share an idea—sothing she hadn’t expected to have any real impact—and yet, Mizzra had turned it into a thriving business venture in re months. It was almost absurd how quickly Mizzra had begun generating profit from sothing as simple as a fountain pen design. Vivienne hadn’t expected much from it, honestly, but the payout was a welco surprise.
She had spent the remainder of her day with Liora, giving her a proper tour of the city, showing her places she had co to know well. They visited the quiet alleys where the best trinkets were sold, the open-air market filled with scents of spices and exotic foods, and the quieter, more hidden gardens tucked away in corners. It was nice to share these spots, to show Liora the city as it was—alive, vibrant, and full of secrets.
But it wasn’t just the sights that had made the day enjoyable. The city had given Vivienne more than a few curious glances. She was used to it, of course. Her reputation in the city had long been solidified, both from her skills and her unique appearance. But today, carrying Liora around with her—a child who seed to mirror Vivienne’s features so closely—had given people reason to pause. The looks ranged from intrigued to confused, and so even seed a bit fearful.
Vivienne found it all rather amusing, though. It wasn’t the first ti people had stared, and it wouldn’t be the last. People often had trouble reconciling the image of a powerful, feared being like herself with the gentle, innocent presence of a child like Liora. She didn’t mind the stares. If anything, it made her smile, seeing the way they tried to piece together who they thought she was, or who they thought Liora might be.
It was nice, though, to simply have so quiet ti with her daughter. Vivienne had grown accustod to the rhythm of these monts—sitting comfortably, chatting with Liora even if she couldn’t respond the way a child normally would. Her eyes, however, had beco more active over ti, and the faint twitch of her claws every so often brought a soft warmth to Vivienne’s heart. It was such small signs of life, but they ant everything. To most, it would be nothing, but to Vivienne, they were absolutely delightful.
She let out a small chuckle as Liora’s eyes flicked toward her. "Yes, I know, darling. The world is a strange place. But we’re here, together, and that’s what matters most."
The peace, however, was short-lived. A knock on the door broke through their quiet mont. Vivienne sighed, though the smile she wore never faltered. She adjusted Liora gently in her lap before calling out, "Co in."
The door creaked open, and a servant stepped inside, bowing deeply as he did. Vivienne, ever so appreciative of a well-tid bow, gave a small nod of acknowledgnt. It was a simple gesture, but the formality of it felt right in monts like these.
"The High Fang requests a eting in her personal quarters," the servant announced, his tone respectful, but carrying a subtle urgency beneath it.
Vivienne raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a playful smirk. “Oh? I didn’t believe myself to be that alluring.” Her voice held an amused lilt as she leaned back in her chair, her fingers gently tracing a pattern on Liora’s arm.
The servant didn’t seem to know how to respond to her teasing, so he simply stood silently, waiting for her response. Vivienne glanced down at her daughter before looking back up, her expression shifting slightly. "Very well. I’ll be there shortly."
The servant nodded respectfully before turning to leave, closing the door softly behind him. Vivienne sat for a mont, her gaze drifting to the window. She had enjoyed the quiet, the rare monts of calm, but it would be rude to decline and she did like Korriva.
She shifted Liora in her arms gently, her fingers brushing through her daughter’s hair, which had grown a little longer recently. "Looks like the quiet’s over, sweetheart," Vivienne murmured, her voice a soft purr of amusent. "Let’s see what the High Fang wants, hmm?"
Vivienne stood, cradling Liora against her chest as she moved toward the door. She caught her reflection in a polished mirror, her obsidian scales gleaming softly in the light. Her clothes, a simple but elegant ensemble, felt comfortable, though she preferred to dress more casually when alone. She had always been soone to embrace comfort over grandeur, despite her natural aura of authority.
With a deep breath, she made her way through the halls of the stronghold, the sound of her footsteps echoing softly in the quiet corridors. She had already grown accustod to the building's design, the intricate carvings along the walls, and the muted glow of the ever-present crystal veins embedded in the stonework. It had a quiet, deliberate beauty, but it wasn’t a place for idle daydreams.
As she approached the Korriva’s quarters, a pair of guards stationed outside bowed in unison as she passed. Vivienne returned their nods with a courteous smile before pushing the door open. Inside, the atmosphere was one of controlled order—furnishings simple but elegant, with a view of the city’s sprawling landscape from large windows.
Korriva was sat down on a chair, her back to the window, her sharp golden eyes flicking toward Vivienne as she entered. Her posture was commanding yet relaxed, as though she didn’t have a care in the world, though the weight of her words could flatten even the most stubborn of individuals.
"Ah, Vivienne," Korriva said, her voice smooth and cool, with a hint of amusent. "I wasn’t sure if you would grace with your presence."
Vivienne stepped further into the room, glancing at the seat offered to her. She moved with grace, carefully lowering herself into the chair with Liora still cradled against her. Korriva's gaze softened just slightly as she regarded the child, but her focus quickly returned to Vivienne.
“Well, I couldn’t decline a clandestine eting from the High Fang herself,” Vivienne said, reclining in her chair with Liora nestled in her lap. She offered a teasing smile, black eyes gleaming with mischief. “What did you need for?”
Korriva, lounging across from her, arched a brow, the faintest flicker of amusent in her golden eyes. “Can’t accept that I just wanted so company?”
Vivienne gave her a long, unimpressed stare.
Korriva chuckled. “Alright, fine. I mostly wanted to sate my curiosity.” She rolled one shoulder as if shaking off unseen weight. “I’ve been drowning in work for far too long. So, forgive an old woman her indulgence.”
Vivienne smirked. “Please, you don’t look a day over… fifty?” She tapped a claw against her chin in exaggerated thought. “Honestly, I have no idea how to judge age for the lekine. You all seem more wolf than man in that regard.”
Korriva let out a deep chuckle, shaking her head. “Thank you for saying so, but I am old enough to be soone’s great-great-great-great grandmother. Not that my children seem interested in making that happen.” She leaned back with a wry sigh. “I suppose that’s my fault for not having any children for the first three hundred years of my life.”
Vivienne blinked. “Three hundred? That’s quite the delay.”
Korriva grinned, the sharp glint of her fangs visible. “I had other things to do. Leading a people. Conquering. War.” She waved a hand dismissively. “It wasn’t until much later that I thought, ah, maybe I should actually have a legacy beyond the battlefield.”
Vivienne let out a low, appreciative hum. “You have aged like fine wine,” she said smoothly, tilting her head just enough to let the complint settle between them. “So tell , Korriva—what exactly did you want to know?”
“Before that, would you like a glass of feneh?” Korriva offered, already reaching for a bottle of the rich, amber-colored spirit.
Vivienne waved a hand dismissively, reclining a little deeper into her chair. “I’ll pass, but I appreciate the offer.”
Korriva shrugged and poured herself a glass, the liquid catching the dim light of the room as she swirled it idly. “Fine,” she said, taking a small sip before leaning forward, her sharp gaze settling on Vivienne. “What I’m most curious about is that new champion you ntioned. I’d like more details, if possible.”
Vivienne exhaled through her nose, tapping her claws absently on the arm of her chair. “I’m not sure I have much more to add. I won’t hide behind pride and pretend I stood a chance against him. Dawn aether is my weakness, and he was far more powerful than Alissaria ever was.”
Korriva arched a brow. “Is it wise to tell your weakness so openly?”
Vivienne’s grin was all teeth, sharp and knowing. “As if you didn’t already know?”
The High Fang chuckled, taking another sip of her drink. “Fair.” She set the glass down with a soft clink and sighed. “I imagine my god will want to fight this champion at so point. Which is… inconvenient, considering my position.”
Vivienne tilted her head. “Why is that?”
Korriva smirked, a touch of amusent in her otherwise asured expression. “Because Serranos is the god of the tempest. The only thing he cares about is a good fight. He can wait though, should it co. I gave him three hundred years of battle which is far more than most other mortals.”
“Most?” Vivienne echoed, her black eyes glinting with curiosity.
Korriva nodded, swirling the last remnants of her drink in her glass. “Ulyta, Champion of Nirathys, is the only living person I know who is older than . She spends most of her ti protecting the Siren capital, which is a full-ti effort.”
Vivienne humd, filing that information away. “I see.” She leaned back, idly drumming her claws against her armrest. “Going back to the new champion, all I know is that he works closely with the highest echelons of the Aegis clergy. His na is Zerathiel.”
Korriva tilted her head, letting the na roll off her tongue like a taste she wanted to savor. “Zerathiel,” she murmured. “I will rember that.”
“So will I,” Vivienne said, her tone sharpening into sothing darker, more primal. Her fingers curled slightly, her claws biting into the chair’s upholstery. “I need more power. I want to eat him slowly for what he did to Rava.” A low growl rumbled in her throat.
Korriva’s lips curled in a small, knowing smile. “I’m glad my only daughter has found soone who cares so deeply.”
Vivienne scoffed, but the corner of her mouth twitched upward. “Of course I do. She was my first point of contact on this planet.” Her expression darkened slightly, her tail flicking behind her. “I still don’t know how she ca back, though.”
“Why not ask Akhenna?” Korriva suggested, watching Vivienne carefully.
Vivienne rolled her eyes. “Do you think she’d actually answer every question I have? Actually, any question?” She sighed. “Apparently, Yenhyr speaks to Caelum regularly. I, on the other hand, have had a grand total of three encounters with Akhenna—at least, that I know of. Is that typical?”
Korriva tapped a claw against her glass, considering. “Not typical for other gods, no.” She set the glass down and leaned forward slightly. “Akhenna has never had a champion that we know of, so there’s no precedent to draw from. Serranos talks to on occasion, but it’s mostly to tell I should get out more and find so good battles.” Her tone was dry, but amusent flickered behind her eyes.
“Heavy is the head that wears the crown,” Vivienne mused, watching Korriva over the rim of her glass.
“Indeed,” Korriva said, lifting her own drink to her lips. The firelight cast long shadows across her furred face, her sharp features unreadable as she took a slow sip. “I am also curious about your daughter.”
Vivienne’s expression softened at the ntion of Liora. Her claws, so often poised for violence, now traced gentle circles through the girl’s hair, careful not to catch on the strands. “A happy accident on our trip,” she murmured, her voice tinged with sothing warm and reverent. “I don’t know how she ca to be, but I am glad she is here. I just wish…” Her black eyes darkened, her grip tightening ever so slightly. “I just wish she had co to be after captivity, not before.”
Korriva’s ear flicked. “Is that why she does not move?”
Vivienne exhaled slowly, nodding. “She is such a strong girl, but…” Her voice trailed off, her free hand clenching against the chair’s arm. A deep, guttural growl built in her throat, her tail coiling behind her like a serpent ready to strike. “I will tear apart every soul in Aegis for what they did to her.” Her voice had sharpened to a razor’s edge, cold and unwavering. “I will not be quick. I will not be rciful. I will draw out every last scream and wring every ounce of suffering from them before I send them to whatever wretched god will have them.”
Her claws flexed, the tips pressing into the fabric. Her breathing was steady, but there was no mistaking the sheer depth of her fury—sothing ancient and unrelenting.
Korriva studied her for a mont, then set her drink down with deliberate care. “Good,” she said simply.
“She seems to be getting better,” Vivienne said, running her claws gently through Liora’s hair. “As I feed her, she regains more movent. It’s slow—agonizingly so—but it’s progress.” Her voice was steady, but there was an edge of frustration beneath it. “Right now, she can move her eyes and twitch her claws a little. It’s not much, but it’s more than she could do before.”
Korriva listened intently, swirling the last remnants of her drink in its glass. “And this feeding… what exactly does it entail?”
Vivienne sighed. “That’s the difficult part. She’s a nightmare, closer to an actual aetherbeast than I am.” Her lips curled slightly, as if tasting the word before she spat it out. “She eats fear-laced aether drawn from dreams—and nothing else. I can’t just give her a cut of my al. She needs sothing specific. Only the fear from bad dreams can feed her.”
Korriva humd in understanding. “That does sound difficult. I imagine willing donors are hard to co by.”
Vivienne fixed Korriva with a pointed stare, her black eyes narrowing slightly. “Few are willing,” she said, voice edged with sothing between irritation and resignation. “And I’m not out here to burn bridges. Before, Rava offered herself. Then, when we were on the run, the goblins did—whether out of fear or obligation, I’m not sure. I doubt they understood what they were offering, only that I needed it.” She exhaled sharply. “Gold can grease so palms, but most people? They run from fear rather than seek it.”
Korriva watched her for a long mont, sothing unreadable in her gaze. Then, with deliberate calm, she asked, “What about ?”
Vivienne blinked. “What about you?”
“What if I offered myself as a al for your daughter?”
For the first ti in their conversation, Vivienne was caught completely off guard. She stared, searching Korriva’s expression for any hint of jest, but found none. “You would do that?” she asked, her voice carrying genuine surprise.
Korriva lifted her drink, taking the last sip before setting the empty glass down with a soft clink. “I seriously doubt it would affect my day-to-day life,” she said smoothly. “And I trust you not to harm in my sleep.”
Vivienne frowned. “Yes, but why?” She leaned forward slightly, her tail flicking behind her. “Why offer that much trust? What do you gain from it?”
Korriva exhaled through her nose, then downed the rest of her feneh in one swift motion before placing the glass aside. “You’ve said it twice now—‘Heavy is the head that wears the crown.’ And I find myself agreeing with it.” Her gaze turned contemplative, her ears flicking slightly. “I would like to consider you a friend, Vivienne. I do not have many of those.”
Vivienne scoffed, though the sound lacked any real bite. “Surely there are better choices than a monster.”
Korriva’s lips curled into a smug grin, her sharp teeth just barely visible. “Do you think I am not one myself?”
“It’s odd seeing you smile that much,” Vivienne teased, a sly grin playing on her lips. “It breaks the illusion of an aloof ruler.”
Korriva chuckled, the sound deep and quiet. “And not even my family gets to see it.” She leaned back slightly, watching Vivienne with an expression that was equal parts asured and relaxed. “From my perspective, you are in a unique position. You are tied to my house, yet you are not bound by it. You are powerful, and yet you are not one of my subjects. No other family would dare insult to my face—” her smile widened just slightly “—but you do not fear . You have proven yourself useful to and mine, and more importantly, you have not turned your hunger upon my people.”
Vivienne’s grin sharpened. “Untrue.”
Korriva’s ears flicked forward in mild curiosity. “Oh?”
Vivienne leaned forward, resting her chin against her palm. “I ate so of your citizens a while back. A group of them were terrorizing a human and his lekine lover.”
Korriva’s head tilted slightly, her expression unreadable. Then she humd thoughtfully. “Bold of you to admit that to .” A pause. “Though, I trust they deserved it.”
Vivienne shrugged, utterly unapologetic. “They deserved sothing. Bigotry is one thing I cannot stand for.”
Korriva nodded in understanding. “As far as I am concerned, that is a good thing. I like to keep my city running efficiently. I can’t have that if my citizens are at each other’s throats.”
“Very pragmatic of you.”
“Thank you.”
Vivienne’s tail flicked, her grin returning. “I’m not sure if I ant it as a complint or not,” she mused, “but we’re getting off track.” She tapped her claws idly against the table, then offered a genuine nod. “I’d be glad to be your friend, Korriva. I do enjoy our talks.”
“As do I.” Korriva studied Vivienne for a mont before speaking again. “So my offer stands, so long as you are not peering into my mind.”
Vivienne’s amusent remained, but there was sothing more thoughtful beneath it. “No,” she assured. “I do no such thing. I simply evoke fears already lingering in one’s mind and then feed off the result. Or, in this case…” She glanced down at Liora, her expression softening. “I help her feed off the result.”
“Then that should be fine,” Korriva said, her tone steady and approving. “You have been true to your word, and… I believe Rava would be gone for good without you.” Her eyes softened, a rare vulnerability flickering in her gaze as she added, “I don’t know how it happened, but I believe you were the key to her… let’s say ‘rebirth.’”
Vivienne’s expression softened in response, her lips curving into a small, appreciative smile. “Then thank you.” She bowed her head slightly, a gesture of respect. “I will visit you tonight.”
Korriva inclined her head in acknowledgnt, her usual stern deanor lting into sothing more personal, a reflection of the trust she had placed in Vivienne. “I hope your daughter recovers.”
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