“Y’know, it feels odd being in a city full of people I’ve never seen before, in a world that’s not mine,” Vivienne hummed, her eyes scanning the bustling streets as they made their way through the city.
Rava glanced over at her, curious. “You’ve never been to a city like this before?”
Vivienne shot Rava a grin. “Oh, I have. I used to live in one. It was pretty small, though. Only about a million people.”
Rava snapped her head toward her, disbelief flashing in her eyes. “I’m sorry, I must have misheard you. How many people?”
Vivienne shrugged nonchalantly. “Only about a million. I was from a tiny island nation. The biggest city in the country had about three million, which was a quarter of the population.”
Rava blinked, trying to wrap her mind around the numbers. “I’m almost afraid to ask, but how many people did the largest cities have?”
Vivienne’s grin widened, amused by Rava’s growing discomfort. “I think somewhere around thirty-five million? I’ve never been there myself. It was on the other side of the world, and my family couldn’t afford the trip.”
Rava’s eyes widened even further, her tail stiffening with surprise. “That’s… that’s a whole other scale. How did people even fit in all that space?”
Vivienne chuckled lightly, leaning back a little as she strolled. “It was cramped. They had towers that touched the sky, filled with compact apartments for residents, and the office buildings were mostly the same. How many people live here?”
“In Serkoth? I’m not sure, maybe about sixty thousand. It’s considered one of the largest cities in the steppes.”
Vivienne nodded, taking in the sprawling landscape around them. “Yeah, from what I can see, this world hasn’t seen much industrialisation. I don’t think I’ve seen a single machine.”
“Machine? Isn’t that a form of artifice?” Rava asked, her brow furrowing slightly.
Vivienne glanced at her companion with a half-smile. “I suppose so. Well, now I'm curious about that. Are artificers a thing here? I haven’t seen much in the way of machines.”
“Yes, they are. It was a craft invented by the goblins a few hundred years ago,” Rava explained.
Vivienne raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh! That’s another thing I was wondering about. I don’t see many goblins here, but the ones I do see are all female. Why is that?”
Rava’s gaze darkened, her expression becoming more solemn. “Their history is not a happy one. I don’t know all the details, but they were the result of an experiment. A powerful exomancer created one hundred of them to help him with his experiments, as well as tend to his… proclivities. Some say they were made from a mix of different species, designed to be subservient but still intelligent.”
Vivienne’s expression morphed into one of disgust. “That’s horrible.”
Rava raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a wry smile. “So says the creature who keeps talking about eating people.”
Vivienne gave a rueful chuckle. “Touché.”
Rava’s voice softened, her tone tinged with a hint of sadness. “I’m not entirely sure how they broke their bonds, but one did, and somehow she spread that to her sisters. They killed their creator, took his technology, and disappeared. Eventually, they started showing up in settlements around the world, selling the results of their craft.”
Vivienne’s sharp claws clicked idly against her side as she walked, her mind still chewing on the goblins’ grim history. “It’s a wonder they’ve managed to survive at all,” she murmured, mostly to herself.
Rava’s ears twitched, but she didn’t reply, letting the silence stretch comfortably between them. The northern gates loomed closer, their stone archways stark against the dusky sky.
As they passed through the bustling streets, Vivienne couldn’t help but notice the stares directed her way. Her shadowy, otherworldly form drew a mixture of curiosity and fear, and she could almost taste the tension in the air.
“Still not used to being the centre of attention,” Vivienne said under her breath, her tone light but her gaze sharp as it flicked over a nearby market stall.
Rava’s ear twitched at the comment. “Like you haven’t been doing everything you can to draw attention so far.” she replied. Her voice carried the faintest edge of exasperation.
They passed a group of mercenaries lounging near an armoury, their eyes narrowing as they caught sight of Vivienne. One of them, a hulking lekine with a jagged scar running down his muzzle, shifted his hand towards the hilt of his blade.
Vivienne stopped mid-step, tilting her head at him with an amused smirk. “Don’t tell me you’re scared of little old me.”
Before the mercenary could respond, Rava stepped forward, her golden eyes locking onto his. Her glare was a silent but potent warning, the kind that could turn blood to ice. The mercenary hesitated, then released his grip on the sword, muttering something under his breath as he turned away.
“Thanks for that,” Vivienne said, a trace of humour returning to her voice as they resumed walking.
“Don’t thank me. Just try not to provoke people,” Rava replied curtly, though the corners of her mouth twitched with suppressed amusement.
“Provoke? Me? Never,” Vivienne said, her grin widening.
As they approached the northern gates, the hum of the city began to give way to the quieter sounds of the surrounding countryside. A pair of guards stood watch, their postures stiffening at the sight of Vivienne, but they made no move to stop them as Rava led the way.
“So,” Vivienne began as they stepped onto the open road beyond the gates, “any guesses on what we’re about to find? Mysterious symbols, ominous whispers, farmers vanishing—sounds like the setup to a very messy ending.”
Rava gave her a sidelong glance. “Hopefully not too messy. I’d rather not have to scrape you off the ground.”
“Oh, you wound me,” Vivienne said, placing a mock-clawed hand over her chest with theatrical flair. “So, where exactly are we off to, fearless leader?”
Rava gave her a sidelong glance, her ears twitching in mild annoyance before pulling out one of the parchments Narek had given her. She scanned the notes briefly, her tone turning more serious. “We’re heading to the Thaelor farm. That was the site of the latest disappearance. Their son vanished in the night without a trace.”
Vivienne’s playful demeanour shifted slightly, her grin fading into something more contemplative. “A kid, huh? That makes it worse.”
Rava nodded, her expression sombre. “It does. The family reported strange sounds outside their home before he went missing—like whispers in the wind, almost too faint to hear. When they woke up, his bed was empty, and the door was open.”
“Spooky.” Vivienne’s voice was light, but her narrowed eyes betrayed her concern. “You’d think someone would notice a whole person walking out of the house, even if it was midnight.”
“Unless,” Rava said, her voice heavy, “he didn’t leave on his own.”
Vivienne tilted her head, her curiosity piqued. “Possession? Mind control? Or maybe something snatched him up while he was asleep.”
“Possibly. That’s what we need to find out,” Rava said, tucking the parchment away.
The two walked in silence for a few minutes, the open fields around the city giving way to dense woods that loomed on either side of the path. The air grew colder, and the faint chirping of crickets began to fill the quiet.
“So, what’s the plan?” Vivienne asked, breaking the silence.
“We’ll speak to the family first,” Rava said. “See if they’ve noticed anything else since the initial report. After that, we’ll investigate the surrounding area. If there are markings like Narek said, they’ll lead us somewhere.”
“Lovely. I do love a good treasure hunt, even if the treasure’s a creepy symbol and not gold.” Vivienne flexed her claws idly, her grin returning.
They continued down the path until the woods opened up, revealing a modest farmhouse. The structure was simple but well-maintained, with a small barn to one side and a field of crops beyond it. A faint light flickered in the window, and smoke curled lazily from the chimney.
Rava gestured toward the house. “That’s it. The Thaelor farm.”
Vivienne’s gaze swept the property, her dark eyes sharp and assessing. “Looks quiet. Too quiet.”
“Stop with the drama,” Rava muttered, though her own ears were perked, listening for anything unusual.
The two approached the door, and Rava knocked firmly. A moment later, the door creaked open, revealing a weary-looking woman with dark circles under her eyes.
“Who are you?” the woman asked, her voice hoarse and wary.
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“I’m Ravanyr Serkoth,Twilight Fang of Korriva,” Rava said, inclining her head respectfully. “This is my companion, Vivienne. We’re here to investigate your son’s disappearance.”
The woman hesitated, her tired eyes darting to Vivienne, who stood motionless in the doorway. Her tall, shadowy frame seemed to fill the entire entrance, her clawed fingers casually brushing the frame as her glowing eyes fixated on Leda. When Vivienne offered a sharp, toothy grin, Leda visibly recoiled, clutching her shawl tighter around her shoulders as though it could shield her from whatever Vivienne was.
After what felt like an eternity, she stepped aside, her movements stiff and uncertain. “C-come in,” she stammered, her voice trembling. “I’ll tell you what I can.”
Rava nodded reassuringly as she entered, but Vivienne’s steps seemed to echo unnaturally loud in the small farmhouse. Leda flinched at each one, her eyes never quite leaving the nightmare-like creature now seated at her kitchen table.
The two took their places in the warm, cramped kitchen, the scent of wood smoke and herbs doing little to calm the tension. The woman wrung her hands, her movements jerky. “M-my name’s Leda,” she stammered, avoiding Vivienne’s gaze. “Th-thank you for coming. We’re desperate.”
Rava leaned forward, her voice calm and steady, a stark contrast to the trembling figure before her. “We’ll do everything we can, Leda. Can you tell us exactly what happened?”
Leda sank into a chair, her shoulders slumped, and began to speak in a halting voice. “It started a few nights ago. There were... strange noises outside. Whispering, like voices—but there was no one there. Then, last night…” Her voice cracked, and she covered her mouth with her hand, tears brimming in her eyes. “My boy, Taron… he… he was just gone. We searched everywhere. The whole family looked, but… there was nothing. Nothing!”
Vivienne tilted her head slightly, resting her chin on her clawed hand. The motion made Leda flinch, and the faint glow of Vivienne’s eyes seemed to bore into her. “And the markings?” Vivienne asked, her tone calm but carrying a sinister edge that made Leda’s breath hitch. “Did you notice anything strange around the farm? Symbols, carvings, anything out of place?”
Leda nodded jerkily, her gaze darting to Rava as if seeking protection. “Y-yes,” she whispered. “N-near the edge of the woods. They weren’t there before. I… I was too scared to look closely.”
Rava glanced at Vivienne, her expression tightening. “Show us.”
Leda froze, her hands gripping the edge of the table so tightly her knuckles turned white. “Now? It’s nearly dark…”
Vivienne’s grin widened, her teeth glinting in the dim kitchen light, and her voice turned mockingly playful, though it carried an edge that sliced through the air. “Perfect time for a mystery, wouldn’t you agree?”
She leaned forward, the flicker of her true mouth parting into a wide, unnatural grin, its jagged line splitting her face in a way that sent a shiver through the room. Her glowing eyes locked onto Leda’s, pinning her like prey. “And don’t worry,” she added, her tone dripping with dark humour. “I’m what the things that go bump in the night are scared of.”
Leda’s eyes darted between Rava and Vivienne, her breath coming in shallow gulps. Her knuckles whitened around the edges of her shawl as she nodded hesitantly. “I... yes. I’ll show you.”
She rose shakily from her chair, her legs nearly buckling beneath her as she gestured toward the back door. “It’s near the edge of the woods. Please... just be careful. I don’t know what’s out there, but it doesn’t feel... right.”
Vivienne stood gracefully, her movements fluid and almost predatory. “Don’t worry, Leda. We’ll make sure nothing gets to your family tonight.” Her voice, though light, carried a chilling promise, leaving Leda visibly unsettled.
Rava gave Vivienne another sharp glance before placing a reassuring hand on Leda’s shoulder. “We’ll handle it. Just stay inside, keep the doors locked, and don’t come out until we return.”
The trio stepped into the cool night air, the farmhouse door creaking shut behind them. A thin mist clung to the ground, swirling around their feet as Leda led them cautiously toward the treeline. Every step seemed to heighten the oppressive stillness of the air.
“This way,” Leda whispered, her voice trembling. She pointed to a small clearing just beyond the first row of trees, where faintly glowing markings etched into the earth shimmered eerily in the moonlight.
Vivienne crouched near the markings, her claws delicately tracing the edges of the intricate patterns. Her voice, uncharacteristically subdued, carried a weight of thoughtfulness. “These aren’t just random scrawls. They’re deliberate. Ritualistic. Almost like... a language.”
Rava knelt beside her, her eyes narrowing as she studied the patterns. “But what is it for? A summoning?”
Vivienne tilted her head, her gaze distant as though listening to something beyond the mortal plane. “I don’t know what any of these mean, but this one here,” She traced her claw along its grooves, “Is for loam aether. These other two are dusk and sea respectively.” She leaned forward and her monstrous tongue snaked out from between her lips, running it over the symbols. “At least I think so. I can taste the traces of aether clinging to it. It’s faint but definitely there—like a mishmash of different sources. Sea... soil... and night. Something tried to blend them all together.”
Rava’s brow furrowed. “That’s not possible. Aether can’t mix like that, not without blowing up in your face first. Whoever did this was either desperate or extremely skilled.”
Vivienne straightened, brushing her hands together as if shaking off the residue of her thoughts. “Or just reckless! That’s always an option.” She scanned the treeline, her glowing eyes narrowing. “This isn’t a farmer’s doing, that much is obvious. Someone wanted to draw something here—or bring something through.”
Before Rava could respond, the low, guttural whisper they’d heard earlier stirred again, louder this time. It rippled through the stillness like a breath of ice, the sound crawling up their spines.
Leda, who had lingered at a distance, gasped audibly. “It’s starting again!” she cried, clutching her shawl tightly.
Vivienne’s lips curled into a sharp grin, her claws flexing with an almost feline anticipation. “Oh, is it now? I think we’ll manage just fine. Run along, little Lekine. Lock your doors tight, and don’t come out until morning.”
Leda didn’t need to be told twice. She stumbled backward, her wide eyes fixed on Vivienne as though staring too long might draw something monstrous out of her. Without another word, she turned and bolted back toward the safety of her home, her footsteps echoing in the quiet, darkening air.
Rava crossed her arms, fixing Vivienne with a glare. “You could try not terrifying people who are already terrified.”
Vivienne straightened up, tossing her curls over her shoulder with a casual shrug. “She’ll be safer indoors, won’t she? Sometimes fear works wonders as a motivator.”
“Sometimes it also makes people hate you,” Rava shot back, brushing past her to examine the symbols again.
Vivienne didn’t reply immediately, her eyes flicking back to the carvings in the earth. “True.” She crouched low, her fingers hovering over the grooves but never quite touching them. “I don’t need them to like me.”
“It will make your life harder, an attitude like that.” Said Rava.
Vivienne chuckled softly under her breath, a dark sound that seemed to settle in the air between them. "It's funny, really. Hilarious, even." Her gaze drifted to the ground, as if she were musing on something distant. "I used to care so much about making people like me. Used to bleed myself dry for everyone else... for their approval, for their affection. But now?" She looked up, her eyes narrowing slightly, their intensity shifting. "Now, I can barely make myself care. In fact..." Her gaze locked onto Rava’s, steady and unflinching. "The only person whose opinion I care about is yours."
Rava froze, her breath catching for a moment. She blinked, as though the words themselves hadn’t quite registered. For a long stretch of silence, she simply stared at Vivienne, trying to parse the weight of what had just been said.
"You're serious?" Rava asked, her voice a soft whisper, the incredulity clear in her tone. She wasn’t sure whether to be surprised, honoured, or frightened.
Vivienne's smile softened, but it wasn’t her usual playful grin. This one was more... fragile, a quiet vulnerability hidden behind her sharp edges. "You were the first person I met here, weren’t you?" Her voice was lower, quieter than before as she took a step closer, her eyes fixed on Rava’s. "The first person I encountered in this world. My first impression of it."
Rava’s breath caught in her throat, her heart beating faster than usual. There was something heavy in Vivienne’s words, something deeper than she had expected. She didn’t know how to respond, unsure if Vivienne sought comfort or just confirmation of what was true.
Vivienne leaned in closer, her face mere inches away from the lekines, the silence between them stretching for a beat longer, each second wrapped in a delicate tension. “I never asked for anything but to accompany you,” she continued, her voice softer, almost vulnerable. “But when you could have run away... you didn’t. When you could have turned your back on me the moment you arrived home, you didn’t.”
The words landed like a weight in the air, and for a brief moment, Rava didn’t know how to respond. She had thought she understood Vivienne—thought she had her figured out. But now, in the quiet stillness of the night, the layers of her companion’s emotions were suddenly laid bare, and Rava was unsure where to step next.
“I didn’t.” Rava finally murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
Vivienne’s smile was fragile now, the sharpness of her usual grin gone. “That’s the thing about people,” she said softly. “They’ll leave. They’ll find a reason, a way to walk away from you after they drained every drop of you dry. They always do. I used to think it was me—something wrong with me. But you… you stayed.” Her voice faltered slightly as she looked at Rava, a rare honesty in her eyes.
Rava took a breath, her heart catching in her chest. “You think I stayed because of some... obligation?” she asked, her tone hesitant.
Vivienne shook her head slowly, her usual sharpness fading into something softer, more vulnerable. “No. Not obligation. You could have walked away too. I thought you might, after everything. I know I can be a pain, I know I’m a monster,” she admitted quietly, her gaze turning inward for a moment as if she was speaking truths she hadn’t allowed herself to acknowledge before. She looked up then, her eyes locking with Rava’s. “But you didn’t abandon me. And that’s why… Well, that’s why your opinion means so much to me.”
Rava’s breath caught in her throat, a flutter of warmth blooming in her chest. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from Vivienne’s face, from those plush lips so close to her own, the air between them thick with unspoken tension. She could feel the cold breath of Vivienne on her skin. Her pulse quickened, and for a moment, it felt as though the whole world had paused, leaving just the two of them crouching there in the quiet of the night.
Vivienne pulled back abruptly, the air between them crackling with the sudden shift. Her face twisted into that familiar, monstrous grin—the one that made her seem both terrifying and strangely captivating all at once. "But that’s neither here nor there. We have a mystery to solve, do we not?" she said, her tone light, almost teasing, though it held an edge that felt as sharp as a blade.
Rava exhaled slowly, her heart pounding against her ribcage as if it were trying to escape. The rush of heat in her veins was a stark contrast to the cool night air, and she could feel her chest tightening as the weight of the moment pressed on her. Her mind was still racing, caught in the aftermath of Vivienne’s words, the quiet intensity of their exchange, and the way Vivienne had looked at her—like she was something important, something worth considering, something more than just a companion in this strange and dangerous world.
She had to force herself to focus. The tension between them, however much it lingered, had to be pushed aside for now. There were things at play far bigger than her heart skipping a beat in Vivienne’s presence, and the mystery in front of them demanded their attention.
Rava gave a small, tight-lipped smile, trying to shake off the heat in her chest. "Right," she said, her voice hoarse, betraying her flustered state. "We do have a mystery." She took a steadying breath, her gaze shifting back to the strange symbols etched into the earth, the feeling of unease creeping back in as the reality of their task settled over her once more.
Vivienne’s grin softened just a touch, her eyes lingering on Rava for a beat longer than necessary before she turned toward the woods, the shadows of the trees stretching long and ominous in the fading light. "A mystery, a missing boy, and strange markings in the dirt. Could be anything, could be nothing. But I’m really hoping it’s dinner." Her voice dropped, laced with an almost predatory thrill.
Rava nodded, stepping forward. The air between them was still thick, but now there was a new energy to it. “Let’s find out what’s going on here,” Rava said, her tone steady, though she knew she couldn’t shake the undercurrent of emotion Vivienne had stirred in her. It was there, gnawing at the edges of her mind, but she would deal with it later. Right now, there were more immediate dangers to face.
Together, they moved toward the woods, each step drawing them closer to whatever awaited in the darkness beyond.