The pair made their way back to the city uhe cover of darkness. By the time they arrived, the gates were firmly shut for the night. Vivieilted her head, her glowing eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “I could shift into my colossus form and scale the walls. Wouldn’t take long.”
Rava, cradled in Vivienne’s arms, groaned. “Absolutely not. The st thing we need is for you to send the ey into a panic. Use that head of yours for once.”
“Hey,” Vivienne said with modignation, “I’ll have you know my head is used frequently—for terrifying my enemies and looking fabulous.”
Rava sighed, ping the bridge of her nose. “Just knock.”
Vivienne huffed but plied, striding up to the gate and giving it a firm knock. The sound was unimpressive, so she followed it with a series of deafening pounds that echoed through the night like thunder. Almost immediately, the sound of hurried footsteps approached from the other side.
“What in the gods’ names—who’s there?” a nervous voice called out.
Vivienne leaned in close to the gate, her voice low and gravelly. “We’ve got an injured member. Open up before I decide to climb over.”
A startled cry came from beyond the gate, followed by the unmistakable ctter of ons being drawn. “Mohere’s a mo the gate!”
“Great,” Rava muttered, rubbiemple. “Could you not sound like you’re about to eat them?”
Vivienne rolled her eyes, then spoke again, though her tone remained dry. “Rex. I’m carrying Rava, your injured mate. She’s the one who’s going to yell at you if you don’t open this gate in the hirty seds.”
There was a beat of hesitation before a smaller, shaky voice responded. “Rava? That ’t be true. She wouldn’t travel with—whatever you are.”
“Rava,” Vivienne said sweetly, her grin all fangs. “Would you like to do the honours?”
Rava lifted her head with a visible effort. “Open the damned gate,” she growled. “She’s telling the truth, and if you don’t let us in, I’ll report every single one of you to my mother.”
That did the trick. The gate creaked open just wide enough to reveal a cluster of guards, their ons half-raised and their expressions a mix of fear and disbelief.
One of them, a younger-looking guard, pointed a trembling spear at Vivienne. “You’re... you’re sure she’s not dangerous?”
“Only if you poke me with that stick,” Vivienne replied, stepping through with a predatrace. She made sure her grin lingered just long enough to send a shiver down his spine.
The guards stepped aside hastily, murmuring among themselves as Vivienne carried Rava past them.
“See?” Rava said, her voice weary but tinged with amusement. “They listehat's what happens when you ask nicely.”
“Or they were terrified of me,” Vivienne replied with a smirk, though she kept her steps light, avoiding drawing too much attention as they ehe city proper.
Stig to the alleys and shadows, Vivienne navigated the quiet streets with ease, her natural affinity for darkness making them nearly invisible to any te-night wanderers. Despite her earlier quips, she was careful not to ule Rava further.
The warm glow of the hall came into view, a bea against the otherwise still night. “Almost there,” Vivienne murmured, her tone softer than usual.
“Good,” Rava mumbled, her voice faint. “I’m ready to pass out somewhere that isn’t your arms.”
“Careful,” Vivieeased. “You’ll wound my pride.”
Rava huffed a weak ugh but said no more as they approached the entrance. A lekine guard at the door straighte their approach, his eyes narrowing at Vivienne’s imposing figure.
“I’m with her,” Vivienne said dryly before he could speak, nodding to Rava.
The guard hesitated, then stepped aside, holding the door open.
“About time,” Vivietered as she floated through the doorway into the familiar, warm bustle of the hall.
Her imposing frame drew attention immediately. Whispers rippled through the hall, servants exging nervous gnces, while a few younger members darted into side rooms to avoid her gaze. Vivienne sighed but pressed on, floating forward with deliberate care, her glowing eyes sing the hall for some sembnce of dire.
“Where’s Rava’s room?” she mumbled to herself, turning down a corridor lined with wooden doors.
Her search wasn’t as inspicuous as she’d hoped. A startled shriek from a passing servant echoed down the hall as she floated by, and in another instance, a pair of guards stormed in, ons half-drawn, only to freeze at the sight of Rava cradled in her arms.
“She’s alive,” Vivienne said dryly, her tendrils curling zily in the air. “She just needs rest, so poio her room.”
The guards exged gnces before one of them stammered, “End of the hall, sed door on the left.”
“Thanks,” Vivienne said with a toothy grin that sent them scurrying.
When she finally reached the door, she paused, her tendrils extending to fumble awkwardly with the hahe process was anything but graceful, and Vivie out a quiet huff of frustration before the tch finally gave.
Sliding into the dimly lit room, she floated over to the cot in the er and carefully id Rava down. The lekine groaned faintly but settled into the mattress without protest.
“Will you be okay?” Vivienne asked, her voice quieter now. Her glowing eyes studied Rava’s face with an uncharacteristic softness. “I barely taste your aether now.”
Rava let out a low grunt, her ears twitg. “I’ll be fine. I just need sleep—lots of it. Don’t freak out if I’m not up early.”
“Freak out?” Viviened with a wry grin. “I don’t know the meaning of the word.” She chuckled, though the sou fn to her. For a moment, it struck her how stra was to feel humour at all, given what she’d bee.
“Good,” Rava murmured, already half-asleep. “Night.”
Vivienne’s grin softened. “Sleep well, fuzzball.”
Rava didn’t respond, already slipping into a deep, steady breathing rhythm.
Vivieood there for a moment, her tendrils curling idly as she watched Rava sleep. The faint tension she’d carried sihey left the farm finally eased. She turned and floated toward the door, casting o gnce over her shoulder before slipping out into the hall.
She entered her room, just a few doors down from Rava’s, a out a deep breath. The jagged bones and wispy cloaks of her revenant form began to dissolve, melting into smooth, pliant flesh. Dangerous curves took their pce, and her feet nded softly on the wooden floor. This form, which she’d started calling her prime form, felt more... her. For now, anyway.
Her lips curled into a sly smile. Time to see what I do with those spiders.
The memory of the giant spiders she’d ed burned vividly in her mind, their forms etched into her body’s instincts. Shifting into their likeness came almost effortlessly, like a sed nature she hadn’t realised she possessed.
Vivienne’s body rippled and torted, her soft flesh reshaping itself into something alien and monstrous. Her arms and legs split in two, each segmehening and rearranging themselves as her torso expanded into a broad cephalothorax. Coarse, bristly hairs sprouted across her body, the sensation odd but irely unpleasant.
Her head sank into the f mass, merging seamlessly with her new body. Yet, as her transformation pleted, she noticed a peculiar detail—her eyes. Uhe eight gleaming orbs the inal creatures had, her own simply shifted into a semicircle, maintaining their unnerving glow.
Vivieilted her new form experimentally, testing the strength of her legs. The floor creaked beh her weight but held firm. A grin formed—or at least what she imagined might look like a grin on a spider’s face.
“Well, aren’t I a work of art,” she murmured, her voice emerging in a distorted rasp.
She tested her movements, skittering lightly around the room. Her newfound agility surprised her, the grace of her many limbs ing naturally. The room seemed smaller now, now that she could climb up every wall and hang off the ceiling, something she eained herself with for a few minutes before resting herself ba the floor.
Her thoughts turned analytical. The spiders had been fast, their movements precise and coordinated. Could she replicate their strength? Their silk? She paused, fog her will, and flexed her unwieldy abdomen. A fine, glistening thread of webbing spun forth, stig to the wall with ease.
“Well, that’s handy,” she said with a chuckle, her voice eg in the small room.
Satisfied with her trial, Vivienne began shifting back to her prime form. The coarse hairs receded, and her body reshaped itself smoothly. She stood once more on two feet, flexing her fingers and rolling her shoulders.
Vivienne had always admired spiders in her own peculiar way. Industrious, effit, and vital to the ecosystem, they were nature's silent hunters, weaving traps of uny beauty. Yet as much as she respected them, her mind was never tent with imitation. Spiders had their pce, certainly—but she was no simple mimic. The thought of pushing beyond their limitatio a thrill through her. What could she create by merging forms?
Taking a slow breath, she began to shift. This time, rather thaing her entire body melt and reform, she isoted the ge to her lower half. Her legs trembled as they softened and began to flow together like molten wax. The transition wasn’t graceful; it bubbled and rippled, flesh ing and expanding as it reshaped. Her calves and thighs fused, the skin taking on a darker, glossier sheen. Coarse, bristling hairs erupted across the growing mass, and her lower body began to swell into a bulbous, rounded abdomen. A shiver ran through her as she felt spis form, twitg experimentally at the base of this ructure.
The transformation tinued upward. Her pelvis stretched and elongated, widening even further to ect to the burgeoning spider half. It was an odd sensation—both familiar and alien. She swayed slightly, testing her bance as her perspective rose with the growth of her new body.
“Fasating,” she murmured to herself, watg her refle in the mirror in the er of the room.
Now came the step. She willed her upper legs to ge, but rather than fusing, they split apart at the joints, sprouting additional limbs. The new legs extended outward, eae tipped with sharp, cw-like points. Eight in total, they spread in a wide, anding areath her. She flexed them one by one, marvelling at how natural they felt despite their alien appearance.
The room tilted as her tre of gravity shifted, and for a moment, she teetered unsteadily. Then her spider legs caught her weight, pressing against the floor with a surprising amount of strength. She stretched experimentally, the sharp points of her limbs scratg faint grooves into the wood.
Her human torso remained unged for now, creating a striking trast between the soft, curvaceous flesh of her upper body and the thick, predatory menace of her lower half. The melding of forms was seamless, a perfect fusion of beauty and terror.
Vivieuroward the mirror, taking in her full refle for the first time. Her prime form’s alluring curves sat atop the monstrous bulk of a spider’s body, each detail sharp and deliberate. The bristling hairs, the gleaming chitin, the unnerving symmetry of her araid legs—it was all as exquisite as it was horrifying.
“Not bad at all,” Vivienne mused, her voice rich with self-satisfa as a smirk curled her lips. “Holy, I don’t see why arae were sidered ugly. I look amazing.”
She extended one of her spindly, glossy spider legs toward a small table by the wall, the limb moving with an unnerving grace as it knocked a chair aside. Her spiwitched, releasing a gossamer strand of silk. She caught it deftly between her cws, pulling it taut. The strength of the thread made her eyebrows lift in surprise.
“Oh, this is delightful,” she murmured, twisting and weaving the silk experimentally. Her grin widened with malicious glee. “Practical and intimidating. I simply must scare housekeeping in the m with this.”
For the few hours, she indulged in a series of experiments with her araoid form. She adjusted the size and curvature of her abdomen, expanding it into a rounder, more orb-weaver-like shape, then thied her legs to make them sturdier and more imposing. She tried adding spshes of colour and intricate patterns to her shadowy exterior, imagining vivid reds and yellows streaking across her glossy bck limbs. But, to her frustration, her spider half stubbornly remained inky ahereal, refusing to adopt anything but shadowy, otherworldly hues.
As she tinkered with her form, an observation her. She still felt lighter, less substantial, after the Nexus Arbiter had severed her limbs in their fight. It wasn’t just physical—there was something about her core essehat felt diminished.
Perhaps the more aether I e, the rger and more solid I make myself again, Vivienne mused, her thoughts lingering on the peculiar limitations of her form. She felt hardy and grounded in her prime state, but her colossus form—imposing as it was—had an unnerving lightness, almost as if it cked substahe realisation that severed parts weren’t just destroyed but lost troubled her. It wasn’t simply a matter rowth; the essence of those parts seemed to dissipate, altering both her current state and her future potential.
By the time she finished her experiments, sunlight began creeping through the shutters, illuminating the room in soft, goldehe warmth of the light brushed against her inky form, but it failed to reach her chill.
A knoterrupted her reverie.
She tilted her head, eyes narrowing as she tasted the aether in the air. Hmm. Weak. Definitely not Rava.
“e in,” Vivienne called, her grin widening into something just shy of predatory.
The door creaked open, revealing a timid figure—a young servant, perhaps no older than Taron, clutg a tray of food with trembling hands. His wide eyes darted to Vivienne’s araoid form and immediately widened further, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the tray.
“M-my dy?” he stammered, voice barely above a whisper.
“Lady? Ooh, I quite like that.” Vivienne chuckled, her spider legs shifting slightly, causing the boy to flinch. She leaned forward, her grin showing more teeth than fort. “What have yht me, little one?”
“J-just the m meal,” he said, setting the tray down on a small table without meeting her eyes. “I—I didn’t know—”
“Rex,” she purred, waving a cw dismissively. “I do everything I see. Well, not always. You’re safe... for now.”
The servant audibly gulped and took a cautious step back, gng toward the door as if calg how quickly he could make a.
Vivienne’s grin softened into something almost approachable. “Thank you. Could y me a dress to wear? I actally shredded the st one.”
The boy nodded as if he wasn’t being asked. He bolted from the room, the door smming shut behind him.
Vivieurned her attention to the tray, raising an eyebrow at the modest meal: a few slices of bread, a small block of cheese, and a cup of tea. Not a lick of aether in the meal whatsoever. She sighed theatrically.
“Well, it’s no spider buffet, but I’m not going to be rude.”
SupernovaSymphony
