Vita took the lead, followed by Rae and her guards, with Gallum and Aya close behind. Nya skillfully maneuvered herself in front of Mikoto, gently yet assertively nudging her way ahead of her.
A burst of laughter erupted inside her head. Little misaka rolled her eyes and snorted." Oh, please!" she scoffed. "We take out a mountain range, and she still pushes her way through." Shaking her head. "Color me impressed and in love."
Mikoto let out a weary sigh, desiring nothing more than a quick rest. "it's darker inside, and it will take time for normal eyes to adjust to the change. So she is probably thinking of a surprise attack." Mikoto explained under her breath, her voice tinged with exhaustion.
"thinking of a surprise attack while our eyes adjust to the difference. Please! Again!" Little misaka stretched her arms wide, pushing out her tiny chest. "pretty sure Vita would've taken any threat, so.."
"yep…" Mikoto blushed. "it still seems nothing really changes…. does it?"
"Nope." Little misaka nodded in agreement, her expression mirroring Mikoto's sentiments.
Mikoto contemplated the situation, thoughts drifting back to the four kingdoms and Academy City. She thought of the unspoken hierarchy that governed the interactions between the wolves, vampires, and humans….
In negotiations or meetings, the wolves would enter first, followed by her elites vampires, leaders of their own households. And finally, Mikoto herself. "in the realm of wolves and vampires, everything can change in a blink of an eye. One moment you are alive, and the next…poof! You're dead." Anastasia would say.
The memory brought about a mix of emotions, including a tinge of resentment toward those she once considered her own. Those who were no longer by her side. Those who died defending her, those who could not cross over before the portal was sealed. Her heart pounded against her chest, and blood turned hot as her fangs bit into her gums, cutting the inside of her mouth. "I shoulda been first." Biting her lip.
"it is the way of things," Anastasia and Heidi, her first elite, had informed her. Followed by the annoying quick pat on the head by an elder wolf or a soft stroke on her cheek by a vampire.
"Jerks!" Mikoto muttered under her breath, her voice laced with a familiar bitterness. Sharp pain lingered as she longed to see her fallen comrades once more.
Taking in her surroundings, Mikoto couldn't help but notice the intentional decorations aimed at intimidation. Wooded Lattice adorned the circular interior while the skins and skulls of various beasts were prominently displayed. Weapons of the hunt, including long and short spears, crude axes, and traps designed to resemble giant open mouths stacked together or hung on the walls. Mikoto knew them, similar to the ones banned in her own world for their cruelty and brutality. She had heard tales of their effectiveness from the wolves, about their kin being caught in snares or steel traps, forced to gnaw at their limbs to escape. The image of a large pressure plate surrounded by rusted metal jaws stained in dried blood sent a shiver down her spine.
The room also showed armor crafted from bug shells, the shimmering colors of blues, blacks, and dark greens reminiscent of medieval knights. The pieces were well prepared and bore the scars of many hunts. Heavy nets hung with hooks near the top of the ceiling. Strategically placed to make any attempt to resist pain. And there were the old dirty canvas-like sacks, similar to the ones she had encountered when she first arrived in the realm. The thought left a bitter taste in her throat. A reminder of the terror and fear that the little ones faced every day.
A few more steps inside, and something happened. A near silent swish of a blade slicing through the air. Thin hairs drift slowly to the ground. The sharp blade of a Katana hung like a mantis about to strike. The edges glimmer in a warm firelight. Nya held her sword with an eerie stillness, exuding an air of unshakable power and authority.
A scent of blood lingered. Directing her eyes to the thin red line rising across the scarred face of a male. His reaction was slow to the strike. Wonder, and fear filled his eyes.
"I'd appreciate it if none of yours stood behind us," she said, showing no concern for the potential threat lurking around the perimeter of the tent. Inside or outside.
Mikoto showed little emotion as if it was a norm for swordplay in a negotiation. And many times, negotiations have involved some sort of violence. In the world of wolves and vampires, kicking ass was sometimes needed. The corner of her mouth twitched, remembering a few choice moments. Wolves and shewolves brought a blush to her cheeks.
Mikoto groaned, seeing the empty chair next to Vita. Who was patting the seat?
Calling it a chair would be an exaggeration. It comprised just four thin pieces of wood with stretched animal skin, resembling something one might hastily purchase and assemble from a cheap outdoor recreational store at the last moment.
"Uncomfortable?" Mikoto rolled her eyes, accustomed to Little misaka's persistent commentary.
"Our butt is taking a beating today." Little misaka complained, adjusting herself in the overstuffed recliner. Mikoto knew all too well that her internal voice was a constant presence, guiding her through the challenges of being a queen vampire. She couldn't help but feel like she had drawn the short end of the stick, especially when comparing her circumstances to the luxurious and comfortable life Little Misaka seemed to enjoy.
She'd been inside her own head many times, rather than having an avatar to help her with the ways of being a queen vampire. And gotten herself a princess of sorts. Judging by the rather expensive and comfortable way of life she enjoyed.
"I hate you," she told Little Misaka.
"Hey! I'm suffering too!" Little Misaka retorted, reminding Mikoto of her shared struggles.
Raising an eyebrow, Mikoto's curiosity was piqued.
"How so?" she inquired.
"I have to listen to you complain about your ass hurting.!" Little Misaka exclaimed, rolling over on her belly and stretching out. The recliner opened up as she did, prompting her to pat her bottom. "Rub," she asked an attractive woman emerging from the shadows.
Mikoto released a resigned breath, eyes narrowing as she mustered a threat. "oh, I am going to kick your ass when I…." preparing a brutal return to the self-indulging avatar.
"Oh sure, complain about your butt hurting, and now you'll kick my ass," Little misaka interjected, still lying on her belly.
The attractive woman obediently rubbed her bottom. While Little misaka reached over to a small plate of nachos and pulled one out. The cheese stretched in long, tantalizing strings. "let me say one thing before this little throw down goes on…" she teased, "all things considered." her tongue playfully curling in come hear my pretty. "self-pain is not a good look on you. " She opened her mouth wider, pushed the cheesy nacho into her mouth, and sealed its fate. "yummmmmmm."
The taste of the nacho momentarily captivated Mikoto's senses. The flavors danced on her tongue, the heat engulfing her mouth. She couldn't help but lick her lips, savoring the moment. She could taste it. Its flavor rolled over her tongue. The heat in her mouth. Licking her lips, she swallowed. "Is that?" She began, her voice filled with curiosity.
"Yep, triple cheese…." Little misaka confirmed, a mischievous glint in her eyes.
"yummmm," she whispered.
Mikoto sat next to Vita as the protesting chair echoed through the room. Accompanied by disrespectful laughter. Ignoring the mockery, she entertained the idea of standing instead. "Childish…" little misaka said with a sigh.
"I should just stand." She thought, preparing to rise from the seat. However, Vita gently touched her thigh, urging her to reconsider. "the first blow is theirs," Little misaka said.
"Don't give them any ground," Vita advised quietly, her touch reassuring.
Mikoto to a deep breath, torn between her desire to stand and the need to show that the discomfort wasn't getting to her. "I really would like to stand. My butt is really sore from the damn wagon's bench." She mumbled, expressing her frustration that only Vita could see. Vita's expression was calm. Eyes and smile softly. But underneath, she'd already torn those who had disrespected her queen to shreds.
"Baby," Little misaka quipped.
Mikoto stretched her shoulder and leaned back. Face filled with concern. She took a quick breath and surveyed the distance between them and the others. It was a separation of two, maybe three meters, enough to recognize an impending attack and respond in kind. Between them, a fire simmered, and an iron pot boiled, its lid intermittently popping and clanging under pressure. Steam rose and mingled with the hissing flames below.
Sight, sound, and smells. Mikoto took it all in. Her gaze fixated on the old woman, her face etched with conflicting emotions. She couldn't help but feel a surge of anger and resentment bubbling within her as memories flooded her mind. The woman, worn down by time, seemed to embody these people's violent nomadic history. All of them were stamped with pain and loss. Her expression, the way she held herself. The cold, unfeeling eyes conflicted with her royal attire.
A contradiction wearing brightly colored cloth and polished beads around her neck clashed with Mikoto's sense of justice, reminding her of the lives lost at the hands of those like the imposing males standing beside her. A large feathered headdress that made her face look small. Silver and gold bracelets around her wrists and ankles. Cold eyes fighting the warm flames reflecting in them. Perhaps, just perhaps maybe, she missed judged the woman. Maybe it was the males who were to blame. She'd heard stories of queens controlled by others. Tied to duty and honor. A marriage of convenience.
As her heart grew heavy as she remembered the little ones running through the jungle, fear in their chirps as they cried for help. Trying to escape from the ones much like the males behind them as the little ones were being hunted and killed.
Four large males, like the ones she'd killed. The same, but different. They were dead, these alive. Temporarily maybe, but here they sat in comfortable-looking chairs. They were much the same, but with rolls of fat in their laps, and the colorful tattoos adoring their aging, sagging bodies reminded them of the power they wielded over life and death. Face resembling bears and boars, shimmering chains swinging from their tusks to ears, each mark signifying their conquests and dominance. The scars that crisscrossed their bodies were not badges of honor in Mikoto's eyes. But painful reminders of the little ones taking before their time.
The old woman with her cold eyes swallowing the warm flames flickering in the depth of blackness., telling of the culmination of a legacy marred by violence and suffering. Mikoto couldn't help but feel a deep sense of anger filling her belly. A resentment burned within her chest. She forced a smile onto her face. A cold, hard, barely curved line of a smile. Wrinkles spread across her skin like concrete cracks. It was then she knew. Mikoto could see the predator emerging from behind the mask. She was not being controlled. She was controlling everything.
At that moment, Mikoto vowed to herself that she would break the cycle of violence. To protect the little ones and those who followed her, a slow breath slipped from her lips, steeling herself as she readied to challenge the old woman and four imposing males. But first, she'd let Rae do her thing.
Besides, she did promise Vita.