The forest seemed quieter now, the tension from before dissolving into an uneasy stillness. The creature shuffled back a step, still unsteady but standing on its own. Rava watched it carefully, her arms crossed and her expression unreadable.

Vivienne tilted her head, her gaze lingering on the creature for a moment longer before she turned to Rava. “I suppose that’s one crisis averted.” Her tone was light, but her words carried a weight she didn’t care to explain.

Rava huffed. “Crisis barely averted,” she muttered, stepping closer to the creature. “Are you sure you’re alright? No lingering... whatever that was?”

The creature nodded hesitantly. “I… I think so. It’s quieter now.” It glanced down at its bark-like hands, flexing them experimentally. “The pull is gone. I feel… more like myself.”

“Do you have a name? Do you remember it?” Vivienne asked, her voice steady but soft, a curiosity bubbling beneath her words.

The creature’s form flickered, a mix of confusion and something deeper that seemed almost like regret. “I-I don’t remember it. I don’t even know how much of ‘me’ I am now.” They spoke with a dejected tone, their body folding in on itself as if weighed down by their own uncertainty.

Vivienne’s eyes softened, but her expression remained unchanged. “I’ve been there,” she murmured, her voice cool but with a note of understanding. “New you, new name. Sometimes the old name needs to be shed. You don’t need to remember it. What matters is who you choose to be now.”

The creature looked up at her, its glowing eyes filled with confusion, but there was a flicker of something—maybe a glimmer of hope—too. “You... shed your name?”

Vivienne gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. “I did,” she said, her tone hardening ever so slightly. “My first name—it wasn’t me anymore. It was a mask I wore, tied to someone I wasn’t. So, I let it go. It’s... what happens when you realise you’re not the person everyone thought you were. When you start becoming who you really are.”

She paused, her many heads shifting, each of them fixing the creature with a different look. “I’m sure you can choose something new. Take it from someone who’s had to start over more than once.”

The creature’s shoulders slumped, its bark-like form trembling. “Looking like this?” It gestured to its splintered limbs and jagged edges. “I’m a monster!” The words came out in a wail, the pain behind them raw and unguarded.

Vivienne’s many eyes blinked in unison, her grin turning razor-sharp. “So am I,” she said, her voice cutting through the creature’s despair like a blade. “And it’s working pretty well for me.” She spread her arms theatrically, her tendrils writhing in a mock display of menace.

The creature flinched but then stopped, its eyes narrowing as it looked at her more closely. There was a strange kind of conviction in her words, an odd reassurance that seemed to steady it, if only slightly. “You’re... not like me,” it murmured.

“No,” Vivienne admitted, taking a step closer, her many faces softening just a fraction. “But that doesn’t mean you’re nothing. Being different doesn’t make you any less deserving of finding your place. You might be surprised what you can get away with if you stop caring what they think.”

Rava crossed her arms, her eyes darting between them. “Not everyone gets away with things the way you do, Vivienne.” Her voice was steady, a firm undertone threaded with compassion. She took a slow step toward the creature, crouching slightly to meet its eye level. Her grey-white fur gleamed faintly in the dim light, her expression calm but resolute. “You survived something terrible. That says a lot about you. But surviving isn’t the same as living. If you want to make it through this, you’ve got to take the next step—even if it’s hard.”

The creature, a tangle of translucent flesh and faintly glowing veins, shifted uncomfortably. Its gaze flitted between Rava and Vivienne, uncertainty etched into every twitch of its malformed limbs. The faint shimmer of tears pooled in its alien eyes, its voice trembling as it spoke. “Where... where should I go?”

Rava glanced back at Vivienne, who offered a nonchalant shrug, her many maws pulling into wry grins.

“Perhaps a dryad grove would take you in,” Rava suggested, turning her attention back to the creature. Her tone softened, but it didn’t lose its edge of practicality. “You may be an aetherbeast, but you aren’t mindless. Dryads value life in all its forms, even the strange and broken. It might take some convincing, but it’s a chance. Better than wandering aimlessly.”

The creature recoiled slightly, its luminescent veins pulsing with a flicker of hesitation. “They won’t... attack me? Call me a monster?”

“Maybe, maybe not. The biggest obstacle will be finding your way there.” Rava shifted on her paws, her tail swishing absently. “Though, you’re practically made of Loam Aether. If anything, that might work in your favour. Dryads have a soft spot for... earthy types.”

Vivienne’s heads coiled closer, her smoky forms twisting in a languid motion as her sharp eyes studied the creature. “Rava has a point. They might see you as one of their own... or at least something worth preserving. You already look like part of the forest after a fever dream.”

The creature blinked, confusion and faint hope warring in its expression. “But... how would I convince them?”

“You might not need to,” Vivienne interjected, her tone thoughtful. Her many heads tilted in unison, the first time in a while she had looked truly serious. “If Dryads are as curious as I suspect, they’ll come to you. Your aether reeks of renewal and decay—like a sapling clawing its way through ash. It’s the kind of thing they’re drawn to.”

Rava’s ears perked slightly, and she gave Vivienne a surprised glance. “Not bad, Nightmare. You’re starting to think like someone who knows how to deal with people.”

Vivienne flicked a long inky tongue out playfully, her dark humour resurfacing in an instant. “Careful with that praise, Rava. I might start thinking you’ve developed a soft spot for me.”

Rava smirked, but there was a glimmer of genuine respect in her eyes. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

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“Oh, but we should!” Vivienne chuckled, her many heads swaying with amusement. “I do so enjoy the idea of making you squirm.”

The intelligent aetherbeast glanced between the two of them, their confusion deepening. “Doesn’t it scare you?” they asked, their wooden fingers gesturing nervously at Vivienne.

Vivienne’s eyes narrowed, and she tilted her head slightly. “That’s a bit rude, don’t you think? I’m very nice.”

Rava snorted in amusement, crossing her arms. “At first, sure. Maybe even at second. But now? She’s more annoying than scary.”

Vivienne gasped dramatically, pressing one of her heads to her chest as if wounded. “Annoying? Me? I’m a delight!” She grinned wickedly. “At least, I think I am.”

Rava chuckled. “Oh, you’re something, alright.”

The aetherbeast’s gaze softened, and they let out a low, hesitant sound that might have been a laugh. “You’re both strange. But... in a way that’s... not bad.”

“Strange is just another word for ‘unique,’” Vivienne said brightly. “And unique is far more interesting than ‘normal.’”

They paused, contemplating. “You’re right. I suppose... being normal would be boring.”

Vivienne leaned forward with a mischievous glint in her many eyes. “Exactly! So, embrace the weirdness. It’ll make things far more fun.”

Rava rolled her eyes but grinned nonetheless. “I’m still deciding if that’s the best advice, but I guess we’ll see.”

"So!" Vivienne said, her tone far louder than it needed to be. "Rava, I’m going to go out on a few limbs and guess that dryads have a deep connection to loam aether?"

Rava blinked at her, her brow furrowing for a moment before she nodded. "Yeah, that’s right. They’re tied to the land, to the earth itself. They practically breathe it in."

Vivienne’s grin widened, her heads tilting in various directions as if calculating something. “Right, well, if you are anything like me, you should be able to taste the aether around us.”

The aetherbeast blinked again, clearly confused. “Taste it?” they asked, tilting their head further, a gesture that seemed more curious than wary now.

Vivienne nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, taste it! That swirling, almost tangible stuff that coats the air. It’s not just there to look pretty. If you focus, you can practically feel its texture, like it’s lingering in the air, waiting for someone to claim it.”

Rava looked down at the ground thoughtfully, her gaze tracking the uneven scatter of darkened earth and wild foliage. “Is that the swirling stuff all over the ground?” They asked, pointing to a patch of grass.

Vivienne turned her gaze toward the same patch and paused, narrowing her eyes slightly. “Huh, I don’t see it there, but yes, sure. That’s the idea.” She gave a light chuckle, amused by the aetherbeast’s serious manner. “Well, if you can feel it, you could probably follow its density, right? Presumably, you’d find a grove—or something dense in loam aether.”

The aetherbeast’s eyes narrowed with concentration as they focused on the air around them. Slowly, they began to nod. “I think... I can feel it. It’s there. Subtle, but it’s pulling toward something. I’ll think… I’ll follow it.”

Vivienne’s voice took on a playful, teasing tone, but there was a flicker of something genuine beneath her words. “Very good! I hope you find new friends! Or at least people who won’t hunt you down. That was supposed to sound more reassuring, but it didn’t, did it?” She gave a mock sigh, clearly amused with herself. “Well, at least I tried.”

The aetherbeast, still unsure of Vivienne’s mixed intentions, blinked slowly, its glowing eyes searching her expression for any sign of mockery. When none came, they nodded. “I... think I’ll manage. But thank you.”

“Well,” Vivienne began, her voice almost playful but laced with an undercurrent of something darker, “you’re stable. Didn’t lose too much of yourself. Probably not the happiest of endings, but better than it could’ve been!” Her many heads tilted slightly, giving the creature a scrutinising yet almost reassuring look.

The creature, still recovering from their emotional whirlwind, looked up at Vivienne. Their faintly glowing eyes seemed to search for something in her expression, though it was unclear what they hoped to find.

Vivienne’s gaze softened, and she allowed herself a moment of quiet reflection before responding. “Sometimes, enough is all we can ask for. If you’re still here, still breathing, still thinking—then there’s more to you than just your past. That’s what matters now.”

Rava, who had been listening in silence, gave the creature a reassuring smile. “She’s right. I don’t think I know anyone who’s seen an aetherbeast created. I can’t fathom keeping your sense of self through it. Vivi here is a special case. You did. That means something. You get to decide what happens next.”

The creature seemed to absorb their words slowly, their form pulsing faintly, as though testing the weight of their newfound thoughts. “And... if I’m not ready to decide yet?” They asked quietly, a touch of vulnerability slipping through their stoic facade.

Vivienne’s tone softened further, no longer mocking, but understanding. “Then you wait. No one expects you to have it all figured out in a day, or a week, or even a year. The world doesn’t stop moving, but that doesn’t mean you need to rush.”

“Taking your time is the only way to go,” Rava chimed in, her ears flicking back in a gesture of empathy. “Trust me, I’ve learned that the hard way.”

Vivienne smirked slightly at that, glancing at Rava. “Some of us never learn that lesson.” But the lightness of her words was tempered with something more genuine—something almost approving.

The creature stood still for a moment, as though weighing their options, their eyes shifting between the two of them. They seemed to come to some silent conclusion, nodding once in a small gesture of determination.

“Good,” Vivienne replied, her many heads tilting in a satisfied way. “That’s all you can do. But remember this: you’re not defined by what you’ve lost. You’re defined by what you choose to become next.”

Rava added with a teasing grin, “And hopefully, it’s something less grim than a thing that mothers talk about to scare their children into behaving.”

Vivienne chuckled softly, her form shifting slightly, her presence growing more playful. “Maybe I’ll leave the swamp-walking to you, Rava. I’ve got bigger plans.”

The creature’s lips twitched upward, as if they were trying out a smile but unsure if it would stick. “I’ll keep moving,” they murmured, “and maybe... I’ll find my name along the way.”

Vivienne’s eyes glinted, a glimmer of something sharper in her gaze. “A name, huh? Just remember, it’s yours to choose. Not someone else’s idea of you. You’re free to be whoever you decide.”

Rava watched the creature as they hesitated once more before beginning to walk away, their movements slow and disjointed, showing how unused to their new form they are. But each step was purposeful. The faint green glow from their form flickered like a fading star in the early morning light.

Vivienne stood still for a moment, her eyes following the creature. A brief pause passed before she let out a low, thoughtful hum. “I wonder what they’ll become,” she murmured, more to herself than anyone else.

“Does it matter?” Rava asked, her tone casual but curious.

Vivienne looked over at her companion with a smile, her eyes gleaming with something inscrutable. “I suppose not. But it’s always interesting to watch the ones who still have the chance to choose.”

Rava gave a snort of laughter at that. “You’re a lot more sentimental than you like to let on, aren’t you?”

Vivienne shrugged, the movement almost imperceptible, and grinned. “Maybe. But don’t tell anyone. My reputation’s on the line.”

Rava chuckled under her breath, her pace quickening. “Let’s keep moving, then. We’ve still got a long way to go.”