“You know,” Vivienne mused, drifting alongside her lekine companion, “I don’t think a single villager noticed your nudity.”
Rava snorted, her ears flicking. “Well, as far as attention goes, I was competing against one of the eight titans and a talking aetherbeast. Not much focus on me.”
“True. I am pretty incredible,” Vivienne said, her many maws stretching into wicked grins.
Rava’s brow arched, but she didn’t take the bait. “Not what I was getting at, but whatever small pleasures entertain you.”
Vivienne’s grin widened. “Speaking of which, you smell like stale beer and piss.”
“Yeah, well, these clothes weren’t exactly stolen from the finest of merchants,” Rava shot back, tugging at the makeshift attire she’d swiped from a bandit. “I’ll clean them once we find a water source. Maybe even scrub some of that smell off of me.”
“Don’t hurry on my account,” Vivienne hummed. “But I do think we should be careful not to make it a permanent scent.”
Rava let out a low chuckle. “You’re lucky I’m not the one getting us in trouble, or I might just make it permanent.”
“Try, and I’ll find a way to make sure it’s more than just your clothes that get ruined.”
Rava raised a playful eyebrow but kept walking, letting out a loud yawn that betrayed her fatigue. “You can try, Vivienne. You can try.”
“Getting tired there? You haven’t slept in… days? Weeks? Honestly, I don’t have a good sense of time yet,” Vivienne said, her tone laced with faux concern.
Rava waved a dismissive hand. “Mm, I can keep going for a while longer,” she replied, though the sag in her shoulders and the drag of her steps said otherwise.
Vivienne’s many maws formed knowing grins. “I’m sure you can! But I’ve been snacking non-stop and feel positively rejuvenated. Why don’t we find you a nice patch of dirt or something for a nap?”
“I’ll be fine,” Rava grunted, her voice tinged with stubbornness. Her ears flicked irritably, but even that motion seemed a touch slower than usual.
Vivienne’s smoky form tilted slightly, as if studying her. “Oh, I believe you,” she said sweetly, the chorus of her voices dripping with mock sincerity. “You’ll probably keep going until you collapse. Very impressive indeed.”
Rava’s lips twitched, the ghost of a smile forming despite her exhaustion. “Your encouragement is lacking.”
“And yet, here I am, cheering for you.” Vivienne’s tone turned more pointed. “But seriously, what happens if we run into trouble and you’re half-dead from lack of sleep? I’ll be fine, obviously, but you? Not so much.”
Rava sighed, her pace slowing slightly. “Alright, alright. If we come across somewhere decent, I’ll take a quick rest. But no creepy stuff while I’m out.”
“Creepy? Moi?” Vivienne placed a thick tendril over her body as if to cover her non-existent heart. “Perish the thought! I’ll just keep watch and enjoy the silence.”
“That’s exactly what I’m worried about,” Rava muttered, though her tone was more amused than wary. She glanced ahead, scanning the surroundings for a potential resting spot.
Vivienne floated closer, her many heads weaving in a lazy pattern. “Maybe I’ll hum a lullaby. Something haunting and mildly unsettling—perfect for sweet dreams.”
“Do that, and I’m dunking you in the nearest swamp.”
“Bold of you to assume I wouldn't enjoy a nice dip in a swamp.” Vivienne quipped.
Rava gave a low chuckle, shaking her head. “Fine.”
Rava sniffed the air, her ears swivelling toward a faint rustling ahead. A soft breeze carried the scent of damp earth and old foliage. She glanced back at Vivienne, who hovered beside her, her smoky form still twisting lazily. “Let’s find somewhere off the path. The last thing I need is to be ambushed while I’m asleep.”
“Not to worry,” Vivienne purred. “I’ll be your loyal sentinel, ensuring no bandits sneak up on us… again.”
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“Comforting,” Rava muttered dryly. She veered off the trail, her sharp eyes scanning for a suitable spot. After a few minutes of navigating through the underbrush, she found a small clearing tucked beneath the sprawling roots of a massive tree. The roots formed a natural alcove, offering some shelter from the elements and a vantage point overlooking the area.
“This’ll do,” Rava said, dropping her pack and stretching with a groan. She leaned back against the largest root, letting her shoulders relax for the first time in hours.
Vivienne drifted into the clearing, her many heads tilting curiously. “Cozy. Though I’m not sure I’d call it nap-worthy.”
“For you, maybe not. For me? It’s perfect.” Rava unceremoniously kicked off her ill-fitting boots and sank down onto the mossy ground. “Wake me if anything tries to kill us.”
“Bold of you to assume I’d need to,” Vivienne teased, though she floated a little higher, her form coiling protectively around the clearing like a living shadow.
Rava gave a half-hearted grunt of acknowledgment before closing her eyes. Within moments, her breathing evened out, her exhaustion finally taking hold.
----------------------------------------
With Rava asleep, Vivienne turned her attention inward. The aether she’d pilfered earlier from the bandits still thrummed within her, a swirling cocktail of fear and fragmented emotions. It was different from the raw, primal aether of beasts—less wild, but layered with complex flavours. She hummed softly, her many maws curling into thoughtful smiles.
“Let’s see what I can do with this,” she mused to herself. Her smoky form rippled as she concentrated, focusing the stolen aether toward a single point. Slowly, the swirling darkness began to condense, coalescing into a shape. A long, sinuous limb emerged, first skeletal, then fleshing out with shadowy substance. Fingers twitched experimentally, sharp claws clicking together.
Vivienne tilted one of her heads, admiring the new limb. “A decent start. Let’s try something else.”
Vivienne tilted her head, one of her serpentine necks curling to inspect the skeletal limb with a mixture of curiosity and dissatisfaction. The clawed fingers twitched again, but their movements were jerky and uncoordinated, like a puppet tugged by an inexperienced hand. She flexed her focus, willing the stolen aether to stabilise, to give the limb more substance, more control.
The limb convulsed and then splintered apart, disintegrating back into smoky wisps that coiled into her amorphous form. Vivienne hissed, her heads snapping irritably in disjointed directions.
“Rushed it,” she muttered. “Alright, slow it down. Precision over power.”
She refocused, pulling the swirling aether together again. This time, she attempted something simpler—a hand, just a hand. Darkness condensed, taking on a skeletal framework. Joint by joint, she added definition, layering it with faintly translucent shadow-flesh. It took shape painstakingly, fingers extending into sharp claws.
She stretched the fingers outward experimentally. Two obeyed her will. The others spasmed wildly, curling in unnatural directions. Her frustration bubbled, but she forced herself to stay calm, to concentrate.
“Control, Vivienne. Control,” she murmured, her chorus of voices overlapping in a self-directed pep talk.
The hand began to tremble, cracks appearing along the translucent surface. It collapsed again, evaporating into vapour that swirled uselessly around her. She let out a low, guttural growl of annoyance, her maws grinning in frustration rather than amusement.
“Humans made this look so easy,” she grumbled. “How hard can it be to get one hand right?” She smacked herself with a tendril. “Right. Used to be human. Why can’t I replicate that?”
Vivienne glanced over at Rava, who was still deeply asleep, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. “Good. No witnesses to my failure,” she muttered to herself, her voices tinged with dry humour.
She tried again, and again, each attempt met with limited success. Sometimes she managed to form the outline of a limb, other times just fragmented pieces—a forearm here, a twisted claw there. Each failure taught her something new, though: the need for balance, the necessity of controlling the ebb and flow of the stolen aether.
By her sixth attempt, she managed to create something halfway functional. A crude, elongated limb—neither fully humanoid nor monstrous—hung limply from her shifting form. She tapped it against the ground, feeling the faintest sense of weight and connection.
Progress, however slight.
The limb twitched unexpectedly and struck a nearby root with a sharp crack. Startled, Vivienne hissed as the structure began to dissolve, the stolen aether retreating back into her smoky body. Her heads drooped, their expressions ranging from frustration to faint amusement.
“So close, yet so pitiful,” she sighed, her chorus carrying an exaggerated tone of self-pity.
Hours seemed to pass as Vivienne tinkered, her efforts shifting between stubborn determination and playful experimentation. She focused less on perfection and more on discovery—how much weight her creations could hold, how long they lasted, and what shapes came most naturally to her.
By the time the sky began to lighten, a faint pre-dawn glow creeping through the trees, she had managed to form what could generously be called a humanoid forearm. It was disproportionate and long, with uneven, clawed fingers and faintly glowing veins of aether that pulsed irregularly. It wasn’t much, but it was hers, and most importantly it held its shape! More than long enough for her to admire it properly, even if it looked extremely odd sticking out the side of her hydra form.
Vivienne raised the malformed arm, flexing the crude fingers as a series of satisfied grins spread across her many heads.
“Not bad,” she mused, the smallest hint of pride lacing her voice. “Still a long way to go, but not bad.”
She glanced at Rava, who stirred faintly in her sleep but remained blissfully unaware of Vivienne’s nocturnal efforts.
“Guess I’ll let you sleep a little longer,” Vivienne murmured, the arm dissolving back into her smoky form. “I’ll figure the rest out soon enough.”
With that, she settled herself into the shadows, watching the horizon shift from black to grey, a patient predator waiting for her next opportunity to evolve.