Rava woke with a start, her ears twitching as her eyes snapped open.
There’s something in here with me.
The thought cut through the fog of sleep like a blade. Her breaths quickened as she sat up abruptly, muscles tense, scanning the room. The darkness felt oppressive, heavier than it should have been, clinging to every corner like an unwelcome presence.
Her claws instinctively flexed, ready for a fight.
"Go back to sleep," came a familiar, sultry voice, low and velvety, cutting through the stillness.
Rava’s hackles rose even as she recognised it. “Vivienne,” she hissed, her voice sharp but quiet. “What are you doing in my room?”
The darkness shifted subtly, almost imperceptibly, as if it had drawn closer, but Vivienne remained unseen. Her voice came from somewhere near the foot of the cot, smooth and unbothered. “Keeping watch,” she said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Rava groaned, flopping back onto the cot with exaggerated frustration. “I don’t need you to keep watch. Especially not here. This is my home. I’m safe.”
“Go back to sleep,” Vivienne repeated, her tone unwavering, carrying a hint of eerie calm. “I will keep watch.”
Rava propped herself up on an elbow, narrowing her eyes into the darkness. “You can’t seriously mean to stay here all night.”
“Yes.” Vivienne said, her voice lacking the teasing tone she usually spoke with.
Rava let herself fall back again, her tail flicking with agitation. “Fine,” she muttered. “But you’re not staying in the shadows all night, looming like some overgrown bat.”
“Then where would you like me?” Vivienne asked, the words carrying a mischievous edge.
“Anywhere but here,” Rava shot back, though there was no real heat in her words. Exhaustion weighed heavy in her voice. She rolled onto her side, pulling the blanket higher over her shoulder. “Just... don’t do anything weird.”
“Define weird,” Vivienne murmured, but the silence that followed signalled Rava’s refusal to engage further.
Vivienne stayed where she was for a moment, watching the rise and fall of Rava’s breathing. When she finally shifted, the movement was soundless, the darkness returning to its natural stillness.
But she didn’t leave. Instead, Vivienne settled into a corner of the room, a silent sentry, her presence barely more than a whisper in the night.
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When Rava woke the next morning, the soft light of dawn filtered through the cracks in the wooden shutters, painting faint streaks across the room. She stretched, her muscles stiff but grateful for the uninterrupted sleep. The cot creaked beneath her as she sat up, glancing around.
Vivienne was nowhere to be seen.
Rava frowned, her ears twitching as she scanned the room for any lingering sign of the shadowy figure from the night before. Had it been a dream? The idea wasn’t impossible; she’d been exhausted and prone to vivid imaginings when overtired. But the memory felt too real—the voice, the teasing, the way the darkness had seemed to breathe with her.
Shaking her head, Rava rose, dressing quickly in a plain tunic and trousers. She stepped out into the hallway, the scent of roasted game and fresh bread wafting through the air, mingling with the faint tang of morning dew. The sounds of the clan stirring to life reached her ears—laughter, muffled conversations, and the rhythmic thud of boots on stone.
Turning a corner, she nearly collided with a figure.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” Vivienne drawled, her sharp grin unmistakable as she leaned casually against the wall. Her shadowy form was more solid in the light, her inky features shimmering faintly, as though resisting the sun’s touch.
Rava blinked, startled. “So it wasn’t a dream.”
Vivienne’s grin widened, an almost predatory glint in her dark eyes. “Dream of me often, do you?”
Rava’s ears flattened as she scowled, brushing past Vivienne and muttering, “I don’t have the energy for your nonsense this early.”
“You’re welcome, by the way,” Vivienne called after her, falling into step with effortless grace. “I kept the nightmares away.”
Rava shot her a sideways glance. “There was only one nightmare I needed to worry about.”
Vivienne only chuckled, the sound low and amused.
As they entered the central hall, Korriva stood at the far end, already deep in conversation with her advisors. She glanced up as the pair approached, her golden eyes sharp and commanding.
“Good,” Korriva said, dismissing the others with a flick of her hand. “You’re both here. We have much to discuss.”
Rava straightened, the weight of responsibility settling on her shoulders. Beside her, Vivienne tilted her head, her sharp grin softening into something more neutral but no less unreadable.
“Let’s get this over with,” Rava muttered, more to herself than anyone else.
“So.” Korriva’s voice was steady, but there was a weight to it that made Rava’s ears twitch. “How did your mission go?”
Rava shifted uncomfortably, her tail flicking in agitation. “A failure, High Fang,” she admitted, her voice low but resolute. “I was captured, imprisoned, and then tossed into a fallen ruin with a curse collar when they’d grown sick of the sight of me.”
Korriva’s golden eyes narrowed, though her expression remained unreadable. “And yet, here you stand,” she said after a pause, her tone calm but probing. “That speaks either to their incompetence... or to an unexpected turn of events.”
Rava hesitated, her body tensing as she glanced briefly at Vivienne. The strange woman stood slightly behind her, arms crossed, an air of confidence around her as though the entire conversation amused her. The grin on her face was faint, but ever-present, as though daring Rava to tell the full truth. It was the look of someone who revelled in the chaos of the moment.
Rava took a deep breath and steeled herself. She had no desire to make herself look weak in front of Korriva, but Vivienne had played too large a part in her survival to remain silent.
“It’s as I said before,” Rava continued, her voice a little more measured now. “Vivienne saved me—more than once. Without her, I wouldn’t have made it out alive. She was the one who removed the collar. She also escorted me home, keeping watch each night so I could sleep through it.” Her gaze flicked back to Vivienne, her chest tightening a little at the thought of how relentless the woman had been in ensuring her safety, even if it had been unsettling at times. “She never let me out of her sight. Even when I protested, she insisted on being there.”
Korriva’s gaze shifted, her eyes flickering over Vivienne as if she were seeing the woman for the first time, rather than the oddity she had dismissed earlier. There was a flicker of something in her expression, something between intrigue and wariness.
“You trust her?” Korriva asked, her voice softer now, but her tone still sharp, like a blade testing for weakness.
Rava’s expression remained steady, though her mind was racing. The weight of Korriva’s gaze was heavy, but Rava held her ground, her tail flicking ever so slightly behind her. She could feel the tension building between them, like the quiet before a storm. There was a quiet strength in her—born from the trials she’d faced, and the lessons learned from them. She wasn’t about to let anyone see how much she still had to prove to herself. When she spoke, her voice was calm, but firm. “I trust her enough,” Rava said, her words measured but with a hint of something deeper, something resolute. “She’s capable. More than capable. She’s also been nothing but kind to me... if not a bit annoying at times.”
Her tone was serious and came with a weight that even surprised Vivienne. Korriva’s golden eyes flickered, but her expression remained composed, an unreadable mask that hid whatever thoughts were stirring beneath the surface. Vivienne’s sharp gaze met hers briefly, and for a moment, the tension between the two women felt almost palpable.
Rava shifted uncomfortably, her tail flicking in agitation. She wasn’t sure if Vivienne was pushing Korriva or simply toying with her, as she often did. But one thing was certain—the dynamic between the two women was far more complicated than Rava had expected. It was almost as if they were dancing around each other, testing the limits of power and trust, and it unsettled her more than she cared to admit.
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Korriva’s golden eyes flicked to Rava, sharp and assessing. The tension in the air was thick with unspoken understanding. But Rava broke the silence, her voice cutting through the stillness. “High Priest Kaelen knew I was coming,” she said, her words slow and deliberate, the weight of them settling heavily in the room. “I fell for a trap. He gloated as I was taken away in chains.”
The room grew quieter at her admission, the stoic nature of Korriva’s expression not faltering, but there was an unmistakable flash of something in her gaze—anger, perhaps? Or something deeper.
Rava clenched her fists in frustration, the memory of the capture still fresh. “He wasn’t alone,” she continued, her voice rising slightly. “There were more of his acolytes. They knew every step I would take. They knew my weaknesses. And I—” She cut herself off, swallowing the bitter taste of defeat. “I underestimated them.”
Korriva remained silent for a moment, her piercing gaze never leaving Rava’s face. When she spoke, her voice was low and controlled, like the calm before a storm. “Your failures do not define you, Rava. The fact that you stand before me now speaks of your resilience. Let this be a lesson on underestimating your enemies. Is there anything else you need to report?”
Rava nodded. “They have placed watch towers along the length of their side of Greyreach Pass. I estimate each has a mage stationed in it, at least one.”
The High Fang’s eyes narrowed slightly, the only indication that the information had truly registered. She studied Rava with a sharp intensity, as though weighing the significance of her words. The air in the room grew thick with the gravity of the moment.
“Watch towers,” Korriva repeated, her voice steady but with a new, calculating edge. “Mage presence, you say?” She leaned back slightly, her hands resting on the armrests of her throne as she processed the details. “This could change things. Mage towers along Greyreach... they would bolster their defences considerably. But it also suggests they’re preparing for something larger.”
Rava met her gaze without hesitation, her voice firm. “Yes, High Fang. And there’s more. They’ve started increasing patrols in the lower valleys, pushing further into the mountain passes. Their movements seem strategic, but it’s difficult to say what they’re planning.”
Korriva’s expression remained inscrutable, but the tension in the room thickened. Her gaze flicked briefly to Vivienne, who stood by quietly, her presence almost a shadow in the corner. The High Fang's words were deliberate when she spoke again.
“Very well. We shall take this information into consideration. But for now, Rava… I believe your friend has roped you into something, has she not? Ask Narek for details about your little quest. You may take your leave.”
“Yes, High Fang,” Rava responded with a respectful bow, her tone steady. Vivienne, ever the performer, followed suit with an exaggerated flourish of her own, making Rava’s lips twitch in amusement. They exited the council hall together, the large wooden doors closing behind them with a resonant thud.
The corridor beyond was quiet, the echoes of their footsteps blending with the distant sounds of the clan's daily activities. As they walked, Vivienne's playful energy seemed to seep into the air, lightening the mood despite the weight of the meeting. Rava’s thoughts, however, remained heavy. She had seen Korriva's gaze—sharp, calculating, and not entirely convinced.
“We need to find Narek,” Rava said, breaking the silence as they neared a corner.
Vivienne shot her a sidelong glance. “Do I get to ‘charm’ him with my presence again?” she asked with a smirk, clearly enjoying the idea of getting under someone’s skin.
Rava’s lips curled into a slight, knowing smile. “That’s one way to put it,” she said dryly. “But I need him to focus. No distractions.”
Vivienne tilted her head, a subtle curiosity in her eyes. “Focus, hmm? I wonder if that’s ever happened in his life. Shall we find out?”
Rava led them down a narrow hall and toward the more private quarters of the clan. Narek, being the clan’s strategist and one of Rava’s closest allies, was often found near the war rooms, surrounded by maps and scrolls. As they approached, Rava could see the familiar flicker of candlelight beneath the door, and she could sense the weight of Narek’s thoughts, even from the hallway.
She knocked firmly, and a muffled voice came from inside, hesitant yet recognizable. “Enter.”
Rava pushed the door open, revealing Narek hunched over a table, his back to them as he examined a map of Greyreach Pass. The room smelled faintly of ink and parchment, and the air was thick with quiet concentration. When he turned to face them, his eyes immediately flicked over Vivienne, lingering a moment longer than was comfortable, before landing on Rava. His expression was guarded, as always—though it softened slightly when he met her gaze.
“Rava,” Narek greeted her, his tone neutral, though there was a hint of relief. “You’re back. What news?”
Vivienne stood a little apart, observing Narek with a quiet interest. “I trust I’m not interrupting anything?” she asked, her voice soft, but with a subtle edge of curiosity.
Narek glanced at her, his lips pressing into a thin line. “You were, actually,” he said bluntly, then seemed to consider her presence for a moment. “But I suppose you didn’t come to make small talk.”
Vivienne gave him a polite, measured smile, folding her arms as she leaned against the doorframe. “While I do love small talk, yes, we are here for information. What’s going on with the disappearances? I assume you’ve been keeping an eye on it.”
Narek looked from Vivienne to Rava, his expression tight as though weighing how much to say in front of her. “Yes,” he said, his gaze flicking back to Vivienne, “but it’s more than just a few missing farmers. There’s something wrong, but I haven’t been able to pinpoint it exactly. Reports are inconsistent. People going missing, then being found, but not the same. Some say they’ve seen strange figures moving through the fields at night. Others speak of shadows, but no one’s seen anything concrete.”
Vivienne nodded slowly, her interest piqued. “And the locals? Are they not speaking out?”
“Some are too frightened. Some have... disappeared themselves,” Narek replied, his jaw tightening. “Those who speak too freely often don’t return.”
Rava stepped forward, her voice steady. “Have you noticed any common thread? Any patterns in the locations or the victims?”
Narek ran a hand through his hair, his gaze lingering on the table covered with scattered notes. “It’s hard to say. I’ve tracked the places where people have gone missing, but there’s no real pattern to it. The only thing that seems to link them is... the silence. There’s no sign of struggle, no warning. Just people gone. Like they were taken.”
Vivienne’s eyes narrowed. “Taken... by who?”
“Or what?” Narek corrected, his voice low, a hint of concern creeping in. “I’ve heard rumors about strange markings being found near some of the sites—disturbing ones, almost like someone’s carving ritual symbols into the ground. But I haven’t been able to trace where they’re coming from.”
Rava’s expression grew more serious as she absorbed the new information. She gave a sharp nod. “We need to investigate the area. Find those markings and track their origin.”
Vivienne, ever unbothered, leaned back slightly and flashed a grin. “Sounds simple enough. Maybe I’ll even find myself a nice lunch at the end of this little adventure.”
Rava shot her a sidelong glance, her voice flat. “Of course you would be thinking about your stomach.”
Vivienne’s grin widened, but there was a glimmer of seriousness in her eyes now, as though her earlier light-hearted comment had been a shield to mask the undercurrent of her true thoughts. “Right, right. But you can’t deny, a little snack wouldn’t hurt once we’ve got this mystery sorted.”
Narek’s lips pressed into a thin line as he glanced between them, his patience wearing thin. “You’re not taking this seriously.”
Rava gave a small shrug, her eyes meeting Narek’s, a quiet but firm confidence in her gaze. “She’s taking this a lot more seriously than you think.”
Vivienne’s grin widened at Rava’s words, her posture relaxed but her eyes sharper now, as if she were silently daring Narek to challenge her. “What she said.”
Narek’s gaze lingered on Vivienne, frustration flickering in his eyes before he turned to reach for some parchments on the table. He held them up, his voice now more focused. “This is all I have right now on the disappearances.”
He laid the papers on the nearby table, unfolding them with a slow, deliberate motion. The parchment was filled with sketches of symbols and maps, crude but clear in their detail. The markings—strange and disturbing—were sketched in with a fine hand, showing patterns found at each site of the disappearances.
“These,” Narek continued, his voice low, “were drawn by the last person to survive one of the disappearances. She came to me a week ago, too shaken to speak much. All she could manage was this,” he tapped the page, “and a warning about the land itself.”
Vivienne leaned in, her eyes scanning the symbols, the edges of her grin fading into something more thoughtful. “These markings look... deliberate. Too structured for coincidence.”
Rava stepped closer, her tail flicking behind her as she studied the parchments. “They’re ritualistic,” she muttered. “No farmer would have known how to carve something like this. Whoever’s behind this knows exactly what they’re doing.”
Narek nodded grimly, his expression darkening. “I’ve already sent scouts to investigate, but their reports… have been less than straightforward. They may have uncovered signs of Sovereignty clergy within Serkoth territory, though I don’t believe they played any role in this. What’s more troubling is that the markings seem to appear overnight, only to vanish without a trace, as if they were never there.”
Rava raised an eyebrow, her tone laced with disbelief. “That’s an important detail you’re brushing past.”
Narek’s gaze sharpened. “Perhaps. But I’m still looking into it. They could be connected to the disappearances, or they might be unrelated. As of now, the evidence suggests they’re not, but until I have more concrete information, I can’t make any definitive conclusions.”
Vivienne’s eyes narrowed, flicking between the scattered parchments and Narek’s stern expression. “So, these markings... you think they’re tied to the disappearances?”
“There’s no doubt in my mind,” Narek said quietly, his voice thick with tension. “The woman—she spoke of whispers beneath the earth before she collapsed. Said it felt like the land was... alive. The markings are too intentional to be ignored.”
“Well, that’s ominous,” Vivienne said with a tilt of her head, her voice light but carrying a flicker of genuine curiosity. “Where are these disappearances happening?”
“In the northwest,” Narek replied, his gaze narrowing as he stared down at the parchments. “Outside the city walls, near the foothills.”
Vivienne clacked her claws together with a grin, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Right! We have a location and some super spooky details. All we need is a talking dog and a van, and we’re golden.”
Both lekines stared at her, their expressions a mix of confusion and curiosity.
“What’s a van?” Narek asked, his brow furrowed.
Vivienne waved a dismissive hand, her grin widening. “A carriage that doesn’t need animals to pull it. But never mind that. Rava, let’s go! We have a mystery to solve!” She gave a dramatic flourish, as though the very air around them crackled with the thrill of impending adventure.
Rava gave her a bemused glance before rolling her eyes, but couldn’t help the small smirk tugging at her lips. It seemed that with Vivienne, even the most dangerous tasks could feel like a game.