The two suns breached the horizon as Mikoto stood looking down at the scorched soil and out to the waking horizon. She had left the ryokan before the suns rose, stepping outside to find Vita and Miriam patiently waiting for her, and they slowly made their way back to where she had first taken in his scent. She wondered if she might wait for the two days before the rest would return. But thinking back to what had happened, the ambush and betrayal. She thought it would be best for them to engage the enemy. Especially hearing about Arachne and Bahamuth's second-in-command and thinking about what they had done to the little dragon. She shivered.
The silence between them was interrupted by a low rumble that shook the ground. Mikoto's nose wrinkled at the approaching scent before the others noticed it. "Not these again," she muttered, watching Vita practically bounce toward the thunder burrowers.
"Oh, hell no," little misaka screamed. "Barbecue them!" she palmed her face and let out a growl. The attractive woman dressed in casual clothing, tan pants, and a white shirt reached into her bag, pulled out a small perfume bottle, and generously spread it in the air.
"My babies!" Vita squealed with delight, running ahead. "Look how big you've gotten!" The massive six-legged creatures looked like nature had cobbled together parts from different insects - beetle bodies, millipede legs, and clicking mandibles. One released an explosive fart, sending a noxious green cloud rolling across the rocky ground.
"Babies is not the word I would use," Little Misaka groaned. "More like 'mobile torture devices with a gas problem.'" waving her hand in the air.
"It's been three days, but it feels like a lifetime, my beauties," Vita called out, adjusting her woven cowboy hat as she stroked one beast's flank with motherly affection. "I have missed you so much."
With mandibles clicking, the thunder burrowers responded, their massive bodies shifting toward her like flowers following the sun. The largest of them lowered its armored head, gently nudging Vita's shoulder with surprising tenderness. A series of happy chirps and whistles echoed from the group as they recognized their caretaker.
Aikko's voice drifted through before she appeared, carrying on a wind that smelled of moonflowers and temple incense. "Sweet mother of... who just died?" She came through the shimmering portal. One hand dramatically pressed over her nose, her other arm flailing in disgust. "I thought we set these walking gas factories free three days ago!"
"Ha!" Vita's face lit up. "I raised them myself, so naturally—"
Aikko didn't let her finish. With an elegant flick of her wrist, blue foxfire danced across the black surface beneath their feet, skipping like stones on water before smacking loudly on the rear ends of the thunder burrowers. Each one jumped and quickly turned around, stomping their feet in protest. But the putrid smell vanished, and Mikoto's sensitive nose twitched in confusion. But before she could respond, Blue-white foxfire spread across the glassy black terrain behind them, lighting up the obsidian soil. As the fire spread and grew tall, it became a massive portal, and her soldiers stepped out, their black and silver-lined armor catching the sunlight. Each warrior had an arsenal that bridged worlds – mini railguns and gleaming high-tech metal swords. The modified bug-shell armor Vita had developed gave them a fearsome appearance. The soldiers fell into formation with mechanical precision.
Mikoto found herself searching for Gallum's tall form among the warriors, for Aya's gentle presence among those gathered to see them off.
"They send their apologies," Nya's voice cut through her thoughts.
She searched the crowd, her lips curved into a small smile, and found Nya stepping from behind several kitsune. The change in her was striking—she'd grown taller, leaner, and stronger. Her wild hair framed a face that had lost all traces of softness, and she moved like something ancient and deadly.
"She's like an elder wolf," Little Misaka mused. "And then some."
Nya approached with predatory grace, dropping to one knee before Mikoto. "Mistress," she said, lifting her gaze. Those eyes – golden with blood-red flakes – met Mikoto's directly. "The birthings have started, so Aya and Gallum are lending their hands."
"Look at those eyes," Little Misaka whispered. "Haven't seen that kind in a very long time."
"And where have you been?" Mikoto asked.
Nya remained kneeling and lifted her chin with dramatic flair, her voice taking on the measured cadence of an ancient master. "When one ventures beyond the known paths, where shadow meets shadow, there lies the gateway to true power. I found my calling in the darkness where the old ones slumber." She raised one hand mystically. "Like the bamboo that bends but does not break, I learned the way of the ancient darkness. Through meditation and inner reflection, I have achieved... enlightenment."
"Wait, isn't that from 'The Forbidden Kingdom of the Dragon'?" Little Misaka perked up. "The one with the mysterious monk and the magic tea?"
"All of that in three days?" Mikoto's eyes narrowed. "You mastered something. And didn't Vita tell you that on story night!"
Nya's serious expression cracked into a grin. "Maybe. But you have to admit, it sounded pretty good."
"You know she was having sex with anyone and everyone," little misaka mused.
Relief washed through Mikoto like warm blood after a hunt. She hadn't wanted to leave Nya behind. "Could you please stand up and not call me Mistress?" Mikoto asked, unable to hide her smile.
Nya rose to her full height with fluid grace. "Yes, Mistress," she replied with perfect composure, though her eyes sparkled with familiar mischief.
"Yep, she's a wolf," Little Misaka chuckled. "Some things never change."
Mikoto's vampiric sight caught the details of Aikko's armor as she approached - ancient Asian designs merged with glowing runic patterns while Linga's magical devices pulsed with barely contained power. Her Soldiers also had the same Linga devices added to their armor. A perfect fusion of old magic and new technology.
Aikko's eyes sparkled with mischief as she caught Mikoto studying the armor. She made little air quotes with her fingers. "My sisters weren't about to let their new 'friends' march off to battle wearing anything less than the best."
She tapped one boot against the ground, and energy ripples spread like water across the metal. "These beauties draw power straight from the Earth. Makes you faster, stronger, heals wounds quicker—" She paused, a grin spreading across her face before she raised her arm. A blast of bluish-white energy erupted from her armor, powerful enough to make Mikoto's hair stand on end before it exploded several hundred yards away. "—and does that, when you're feeling dramatic."
"Show off," Little Misaka muttered, calculating the armor's capabilities. "Though I have to admit, those aren't just pretty trinkets. Each one's packing as much punch as those railguns they're carrying."
Aikko watched her sisters mingling with the soldiers, teaching them the finer points of their new gear. "You are their goddess," she said. "They'd follow you anywhere, you know. You've given them something they've been missing – a purpose beyond existing." She sighed, crossing her arms. "When they heard you were leaving, they were in a panic and quickly gathered themselves so as not to be left behind." She added, "You've brought new blood to this garden, new stories waiting to be told. The tree of life keeps growing, and—"
"Here comes the speech!" Little Misaka warned. "Better head this one off quick."
Mikoto took a steadying breath, gathering her courage, and reached into her pouch. "Here," she said, holding out the letter.
Aikko's usual composure cracked, caught off guard by the gesture. She took the letter as if handling a sacred text, her fingers trembling slightly.
The envelope was crafted in the Choukei style, long and vertical like the formal letters of old Japan. Mikoto's brushwork rendered Aikko's name in flowing strokes. Around the middle, thin paper strips were woven in the Awajimusubi style—a pattern meant to bind people together for eternity.
"Should I open it..." Aikko's voice barely carried above a whisper.
Mikoto shook her head. "When you no longer see me in the distance, then okay." She paused. "I don't want you sobbing."
Aikko pulled her into a sudden embrace, her lips close to Mikoto's ear. "I have no problem sobbing for joy," she whispered, then drew back, quickly kissing Mikoto's cheek.
"Time to go!" Vita yelled as she cracked the reins. The thunder burrowers grunted and pulled, setting the wagon in motion.
The twin suns had climbed higher, and now their double shadows stretched ahead instead of behind, as if pointing the way forward. The world that had looked so wrong at dawn now felt different—not exactly right, but like a path clearing before her feet.
"Sometimes, wrong is just the beginning of right," Little Misaka mused. "Though I'd feel more right about it if Vita would stop sniffing the air like that."
The kitsune gathered at the path's edge, tails fanning behind them like banners. Aikko stood among her sisters, clutching the letter to her chest, watching the procession fade. Her fingers traced the Awajimusubi knot as the twin suns caught in her tears.
Later, in the solitude of her chamber, Aikko knelt before a small table where the letter waited. Her hands hovered over the envelope, drinking in every detail – the precise folds, the elegant strokes of her name, the Awajimusubi knot that promised eternal bonds. Each element was a treasure, speaking volumes even before revealing its secrets.
She closed her eyes, and her four tails emerged, spreading like a magnificent fan. A whispered word and foxfire bloomed around the envelope, filling the room with light. Her face tensed with concern, fearful of damaging this precious thing. Then she felt a surge of power, gentle but unmistakable, like an invisible hand guiding her own.
"Mother," she whispered, recognition flowing through her.
The letter materialized on the table, perfect and pristine. She waved her hand slowly over the perfectly folded paper, and it opened like a flower in moonlight, revealing more perfect strokes, more perfect words.
"My dearest Aikko," the letter began.
Her eyes moved across the elegant script. "Oh my," she murmured, smiling as she read. "A smaller branch of our tree grows. Aoi and Asami, fathered by Touma." The names appeared briefly in foxfire, shimmering in the air before fading away.
She continued reading, then suddenly froze. Her fingers trembled against the paper. "What I share with you now is something precious, something held close to my heart for far too long." Her tails quivered. "We have three children by your father."
"Sisters," she whispered, her voice spreading through the garden like wind through leaves. Her tails flickered as she wrote in the space before her, fox fire forming the letters. "Miranda and Ysabeau." The glowing names appeared before every kitsune in the garden, floating like captured starlight.
Aikko's tails swayed. Thinking of a third sister, she stared wide-eyed and silent for a moment that seemed to last an eternity. She steadied herself, softly licking her lips before letting everyone know. Because what she was about to tell them seemed almost impossible. "We have a brother," she breathed, "and they call him the little prince..."
The revelation rippled through the garden. Every kitsune reached out, trying to grasp and hold the words before they faded. The name burned brighter in the air, spreading through the garden like stars, igniting the night.
In the woods, where moonflowers lined the path, Kuro stopped in her tracks. The fox fire message from Aikko hovered before her, the words shimmering in the air. Her hands trembled as she reached out to touch them, tears slipping from her eyes and falling, each drop creating ripples before disappearing into nothing.
"A son..." she whispered, her voice barely a breath. A quaking breath followed as the truth settled into her heart. "You have a son..."
It had always been female. She had come to accept having only given birth to females. She'd convinced herself it was due to who and what he was. And he never once complained. But this, a son. The word carried the weight of centuries, possibilities, and futures yet untold.
Taking a breath, would she tell or not tell him, gathering something she had never had a problem with before – courage – she stepped out from the woods. And there he stood by the water's edge with that smile.