Vivienne and Rava walked through the clan hall for a time in what might have passed for silence—if Vivienne’s version of silence didn’t involve a barrage of questions.
“So, how old is this hall? Did Korriva build it herself? Are those statues out front based on real people? How does one even carve stone like that? And who decides where to place the torches—do you have someone whose sole job it is to make sure the lighting looks this dramatic? Because honestly, it’s very effective.”
Rava groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose as they turned a corner. Her steps dragged slightly, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up with her. “Vivienne, I know you’re curious, but you’re like a pup with boundless energy. Can we save the endless interrogation for after I’ve had a moment to breathe?”
Vivienne grinned, entirely unrepentant. “Endless interrogation? I think you mean ‘fascinated cultural exchange.’”
“It feels endless,” Rava muttered under her breath, though the faintest hint of a smile tugged at her lips.
They passed through a long corridor, the walls adorned with tapestries depicting the history of the Serkoth Clan—battles fought, victories won, and moments of unity celebrated. Vivienne slowed her pace, her eyes catching on one particularly vivid tapestry showing a towering wolf-like figure standing against a backdrop of swirling storms, a sword in one hand and a shield in the other.
“That’s Korriva, isn’t it?” Vivienne asked, her voice softening with genuine interest.
Rava nodded, her gaze following Vivienne’s. “It is. That was woven to commemorate the great storm wars, centuries ago. She led our people through the worst of it and united the scattered clans under one banner. Without her, there wouldn’t be a Serkoth Clan.”
Vivienne whistled low, her usual teasing absent. “She’s not just a leader. She’s a legend.”
Rava’s expression turned wistful. “She’s more than that to me. She’s my mother.”
“Actually, I am curious about that,” Vivienne said, a mischievous grin tugging at her lips. “You two look… different from each other. Pretty drastically, too, y’know, with the head and all that fur.”
Rava smirked faintly, though her tone remained explanatory. “It’s the effects of aetheric immersion. The more you expand your own capabilities, the more of a... paragon, for lack of a better word, of your species you become.”
She held up her wolfish hand, the fur glinting faintly under the warm torchlight as she turned it. “As you can see, I’ve taken on some of these traits myself. Excluding the eyes and ears, lekines look very similar to humans by default. When we’re young or untrained, the differences are subtle—our nails might be sharper, our teeth more pointed, but nothing extreme.”
Vivienne’s curiosity was piqued. “And as you train?”
“Most of the lekines you’ve seen so far, like the guards, are in a stage similar to mine. We’ve expanded our aetheric pools for combat, which changes us over time. The more we push, the more those ancestral traits come to the surface. My mother…” Rava hesitated, then gestured vaguely toward the distant throne room. “She’s what you’d call a ‘High Paragon.’ Her connection to our aetheric heritage is so deep that she embodies the apex of our kind—larger, stronger, more… lupine.”
Vivienne nodded, her grin now tinged with genuine interest. “So it’s not just about strength; it’s about tapping into what makes you uniquely you.”
Rava tilted her head, considering. “That’s one way to put it. It’s a bit more nuanced than that. Other species experience it differently. Humans, for instance—they don’t grow fur or fangs. Instead, their blemishes vanish, their skin becomes almost unnaturally smooth, and their eyes... their eyes change. They take on a glow, like they’re lit from within, and their irises sometimes shift into strange patterns.”
Vivienne raised an eyebrow. “Sounds a little creepy.”
“It can be,” Rava admitted, a small smirk returning. “But it’s also fascinating. Aether brings out the essence of a person. For us, it’s a connection to our wild ancestors. For humans... who knows what their essence truly is?”
Vivienne’s gaze grew distant, her thoughts racing. “And for me?”
Rava paused mid-step, turning to look at Vivienne fully. “You’re not lekine. You’re not human. You’re... something else entirely.” Her eyes narrowed, though there was no malice in her voice, only contemplation. “Whatever you are, Vivienne, it’s clear that aether hasn’t finished working on you yet.”
Vivienne chuckled, the sound low and wry. “Isn’t that a fun thought?”
Rava resumed walking, her tone shifting to a lighter note. “You’ll just have to figure it out as you go. Knowing you, you’ll probably stumble into some grand revelation while trying to be cheeky.”
“That’s the plan,” Vivienne quipped, falling into step beside her. “Stumble my way to greatness, one witty remark at a time.”
The corridor opened into a smaller, cosier chamber lit by an ornate chandelier carved from bone and wood. The walls were adorned with trophies—ancient weapons, ceremonial masks, and polished skulls of long-dead beasts. It felt like stepping into the heart of Serkoth culture, a room that held as much history as it did pride.
Rava gestured toward a large, cushioned bench near the wall. “We can rest here for a bit. I need to get off my feet.”
Vivienne nodded, taking in the room’s details as she joined Rava. “So... one last question before you close your eyes and ignore me.”
Rava sighed dramatically, leaning back against the cushions. “Go on, then.”
“Do you think Korriva actually likes me?” Vivienne asked, her tone light, but there was an undeniable thread of genuine curiosity woven in.
Rava cracked one eye open, the faintest hint of a smirk pulling at her lips. For a moment, it seemed like she might laugh. Instead, she said, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone talk back to her like that and walk away in one piece. That alone means she finds you... intriguing. But let’s not kid ourselves—saving my life probably earned you more goodwill than anything you said.”
Vivienne tilted her head, a sly grin spreading across her face. “So, what you’re saying is that the worst I could’ve gotten was a scolding?”
Rava chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Don’t push your luck.”
Satisfied, Vivienne leaned back into the plush couch they had settled on. The furniture, draped in soft furs and intricate embroidery, was surprisingly luxurious for a place built so sturdily. Vivienne sank deeper into the cushions than she expected, letting the comfort embrace her like a rare treat. The contrast between the harsh exterior of the clan hall and the warmth of its interior didn’t escape her notice.
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“Not bad,” she muttered, running her fingers over the fur draped across the armrest. “For a place built to keep out the world, you lot sure know how to make it cosy.”
Rava smirked faintly, stretching out her legs. “You’d be surprised how much we value comfort. Survival doesn’t have to mean misery.”
Vivienne snorted. “Spoken like someone who’s never slept on a bed of rocks in a cave.”
“I’ve done my share of roughing it,” Rava shot back. “And just because they weren’t caves doesn’t mean I didn’t do my fair share of sleeping on rocks. Usually we would pass the time telling each other stories.”
Vivienne quirked an eyebrow at that, her grin sharpening. “A storyteller, are you? Didn’t peg you for the type.”
“I didn’t say I was good at it,” Rava admitted, smirking. “But you learn to appreciate stories when you’re out in the wild. They keep your mind sharp—and sometimes they’re all you have.”
“Well, lucky for you, I happen to have a story or two up my sleeve,” Vivienne said, leaning forward slightly, her dark eyes glinting with mischief. “Though most of them are probably too scandalous for a proper clan hall.”
“I’m sure Korriva would love to hear you scandalise our traditions,” Rava replied dryly, though her tone was lighter now, less guarded.
Before Vivienne could reply, a soft knock echoed through the chamber. A young lekine entered, bowing deeply before addressing them. “High Fang Korriva has requested fresh clothes and supplies be brought to you both. She also mentioned a formal dinner tonight.”
Rava nodded, gesturing for the youth to leave the items near the doorway. “Thank you.”
Once they were alone again, Vivienne stood and sauntered over to inspect the bundle, her grin returning. “Formal dinner? Should I be worried?”
“Depends,” Rava said, leaning back into the couch, her head resting against the thickly cushioned back. “Can you behave yourself for more than a fifth of a bell?”
Vivienne paused, glancing over her shoulder with a grin so wide it could rival the moon’s crescent. “What a silly question. Of course not.”
Rava let out a sharp breath, shaking her head. “I’m not even going to think about what that’s going to mean tonight.” She shifted upright with a sigh, her amber eyes settling intently on Vivienne, who was casually picking through the neatly folded clothes left for them. “Thank you, by the way.”
Vivienne raised an eyebrow, holding up a soft linen tunic as if inspecting it for flaws. “For what? Brightening your day with my endless charm?”
Rava snorted. “That, and for everything else. Saving my life. Again and again. For taking the night watch every single night so I could sleep through it.” Her voice softened slightly. “For being so kind with nothing promised in return.”
Vivienne paused, her teasing demeanour giving way to something quieter, more genuine. She let the tunic drop to her side, turning fully to face Rava. “You’re welcome,” she said simply. Then, with a wink to lighten the mood, she added, “But don’t think this means you’re off the hook for helping me figure out what’s really going on with this whole mess.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Rava replied with a small smile, the tension in her shoulders easing. “But if you ruin dinner tonight, you’re on your own.”
“Oh, please.” Vivienne tossed the tunic onto the pile with a casual flick of her wrist and flopped back onto the couch beside Rava. “If I ruin dinner, it’ll only be because I’m too dazzling for everyone to handle.”
Rava snorted, leaning back again and draping one arm along the edge of the couch. “Just try not to dazzle anyone into a diplomatic incident, alright?”
“No promises,” Vivienne quipped, her grin widening as she shifted to stretch out luxuriously across the fur-covered cushions.
They sat in companionable silence for a moment, the firelight dancing in their eyes. The hearth's warmth was soothing, but it didn’t erase the undercurrent of tension Vivienne had begun to notice. The Serkoth Clan’s hospitality was genuine, but there was an unspoken caution woven through every interaction. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being measured, not just by Korriva but by the entire clan.
Rava broke the silence first. “You’re not what I expected, I think.” she said quietly, her gaze fixed on the flames.
Vivienne arched her brow. “Oh? What did you expect?”
Rava shrugged, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. “Someone more... traditional, I suppose. Less sharp edges, fewer mysteries.”
“Disappointed?” Vivienne asked, mock-offended.
“Not yet,” Rava shot back, the smirk growing. Then her expression turned thoughtful, her voice softening. “You’re different, Vivienne. Not just from the people here—from anyone I’ve ever met. It makes me wonder... what kind of place made someone like you?”
Vivienne blinked, caught off guard by the question. She sat up slightly, her teasing air replaced by something more subdued. “My world?” she asked, her tone carefully neutral.
Rava nodded, her amber eyes curious but not prying. “If you want to talk about it.”
Vivienne hesitated, her gaze dropping to her hands. For a long moment, she didn’t speak, the crackling fire filling the quiet. When she finally did, her voice was distant, as though she were speaking to someone far away. “It wasn’t all bad. But it wasn’t kind, either. No magic, of course, or aether—or whatever you want to call it.”
Rava tilted her head, curiosity lighting up her amber eyes. “I can’t imagine that. A world without aether. How would life function?”
Vivienne shrugged, her tone turning faintly wistful. “Life has its own rules. Its own rhythms. There were no glowing stones or mystical beasts. Just people, machines, and the wild trying to kill you. We had our own kind of magic, I suppose. Science. Technology. It got us far, though it had its costs.”
Rava nodded slowly, the concept clearly foreign but intriguing. “And yet you survived there. Without aether. I suppose that’s a testament to your kind’s ingenuity.”
“Or stubbornness,” Vivienne said with a dry laugh, but it faded quickly. Her expression shifted, darker now. “I don’t even know why life here needs aether to function, but I know it does... since I killed that Aegis guard by draining him dry.” She blinked, her brow furrowing. “Huh. That’s the first time I killed someone.”
Rava’s ears twitched, and she sat up straighter, her expression softening. “Are you okay?” she asked, placing a cautious hand on Vivienne’s knee.
“I’m...” Vivienne trailed off, exhaling slowly. “Yeah. I didn’t even kill those bandits, just took enough to knock them out for a while. But that guard and those hunters—” Her jaw tightened. “They just felt like food to me. Like killing some poultry for dinner.”
She laughed bitterly, shaking her head. “If anything, I feel bad about not feeling bad, if that makes sense.”
Rava’s hand remained steady, her voice gentle but firm. “It does. More than you might think.”
Vivienne glanced at her, searching her face. “Does it bother you? What I am? What I can do?”
“Perhaps a little.” Rava admitted honestly, her gaze unwavering. “Not much. Each of those who you killed spared no mercy for us. You saved me. You had every opportunity to turn on me, and instead, you protected me. You are far, far more than whatever instincts are clawing at you, Vivienne.”
Vivienne blinked, startled by the sincerity in Rava’s voice. Her instinct was to deflect, to crack a joke and lighten the mood, but something about the way Rava was looking at her—steadfast, unflinching—made her pause.
“You make me sound like some noble hero,” Vivienne said, her tone softening as her lips curved into a faint smile. “I’m just trying to survive like everyone else.”
Rava’s hand lingered, her thumb brushing lightly against the fabric of Vivienne’s bloodied dress. “Surviving and saving lives don’t always go hand in hand. But you’ve managed both.”
For a moment, neither of them spoke, the silence stretching between them. The firelight flickered, casting warm shadows across Rava’s strong features and the sharp, almost otherworldly contours of Vivienne’s. It wasn’t an uncomfortable silence, though—it felt charged, like the air before a storm.
Vivienne tilted her head, her grin returning, this time softer, more genuine. “Careful, Rava. You’re starting to sound like you might actually like me.”
Rava rolled her eyes but didn’t pull her hand away. “Don’t push your luck.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it.” Vivienne’s voice dropped slightly, almost playful, but with an edge of sincerity. “Not when I’m finally starting to get to know the real you.”
“Don’t read too much into it,” Rava said, her tone light but carrying the faintest trace of fluster. She gestured toward the pile of clothes. “We should change into what they brought us.”
Vivienne hummed thoughtfully, a playful glint in her eyes. “Or… I could skip the dress entirely and show up as a hydra. You know, I do enjoy being a hydra.”
Rava’s gaze snapped to her, narrowing in warning. “Don’t you dare.”