Amaterasu played her flute on the terrace of Takamagahara. Morning light spilled over the eastern hills and touched her face, pale gold and calm. The last of the mist thinned and fled, drifting away like a retreating spirit. Her phoenix perched nearby, feathers glowing faintly, while smaller birds wheeled through the air and sang among the columns. A cool wind passed through the terrace, carrying silence and clarity, turning the palace heights into a place fit for meditation.

  Below her, mytos servants moved with quiet purpose. Some swept the courtyard leaves, others polished ancient jars. A few tended the bonsai trees and flowering shrubs, their leaves still heavy with dew. One of them approached with a breakfast tray for the Flame Goddess. Five dishes were set with care. White rice, soup, grilled salmon, stir fried seaweed, and a cup of steaming green tea.

  As she ate, lifting rice with her chopsticks, Amaterasu spoke without looking up. “Where is my brother?”

  “Lord Susanoo has not returned for two days,” the mytos replied.

  She handed him a small slip of paper. Instructions for the evening meal, detailed and precise. There were things she wanted prepared in a certain way. For midday, she intended to hunt in the Arun Forest east of Takamagahara. The mytos accepted the paper and withdrew.

  By the time she finished her meal, the sun had climbed higher. Farmer commonfolk and mytos began to leave the city gates, carrying tools and seeds toward the fields. Then the sound came. A low hum that grew into thunder. A starcraft descended into the stone courtyard below the palace, its hull gleaming like frost under sunlight.

  Amaterasu rose and made her way down. The mythos guards formed ranks as the vessel settled. Starmist emerged, her presence cool and radiant, as if the void itself had taken shape. The servants bowed as one.

  “Welcome, Lady Starmist, The Extraterrestrial from House of Star,” they said.

  The guards of the House of Star followed, unloading cargo from the ship. Gifts from Lord Star, and tribute from three months of trade between the factions. More than twenty chests were carried out, heavy with coin and sealed contracts. Amaterasu ordered part of it set aside for the palace treasury and the wages of the Sanctuary workers due they good work for filling All Realm kingdoms with food and life stocks. The larger share was to be sent to Unus Bank, stored beyond immediate reach.

  She took Starmist’s hand at once and led her into the palace halls, while below them the mythos carried the chests into the vaults beneath the stone.

  “You arrived at the right time,” Amaterasu said quietly. “I would rather burn my throne than delay payment to the Sanctuary.”

  Starmist glanced back as her ship lifted and vanished into the sky. “How does your reserve drain so quickly?”

  Amaterasu gave a thin smile. “My faction spends without fear. The water god, the metal god, and my brother most of all.”

  They entered the inner corridors. The palace walls were lined with paintings, vast and narrow, old and newly hung. Each told fragments of divine history. Wars of elements, oaths made and broken, gods standing alone against burning skies. Starmist slowed her steps, studying them.

  “The last time I was here, some of these were not yet displayed,” she said, pointing to a large frame that held three gods within a single scene.

  “Yes,” Amaterasu replied. “You know who insisted on drawing that one.”

  Starmist smiled, faint but knowing, and followed her deeper into the palace halls as the morning light faded behind them.

  They walked together into the garden at the heart of the palace. A narrow stone channel cut through it, water murmuring softly as it flowed past smooth rocks. Bright fish drifted beneath the surface, flashes of red and gold that brought life to the quiet space. This was the inner sanctuary of the Elementalist faction’s stronghold. There were no heavy weapons here, no banners of war. Only the voice of water, wind, and leaves.

  A table had been prepared beneath a flowering tree. There they spread their documents, matters of council and of their respective orders. Mytos guards moved through the garden at intervals, their footsteps light, their presence calm but constant. The palace breathed around them.

  “Will you stay a few days?” Amaterasu asked.

  “Two nights should be enough,” Starmist replied, already opening one of her folders.

  “Why not remain until the next council session?” Amaterasu said. “The Shogun will not return soon. I can order Susanoo to sleep in the central keep while we stay in the High Palace.”

  As she spoke, Amaterasu heated her iron seal by pressing it lightly against her fingertip. The metal glowed, and she stamped a crest onto a letter, sealing it with a hiss of scorched parchment.

  “I still have duties at the Stargate and at Sevenstar,” Starmist said, her eyes moving across the lines of a scroll.

  Amaterasu nodded once. A servant approached and poured drinks for the two councilwomen, then withdrew without a sound.

  “By the way,” the Flame Goddess said, “bring your nephew, Starlax, here sometime. I would like him to meet Vine Viper.”

  “I will arrange it,” Starmist replied. “How old is Viper now?”

  Amaterasu paused, then smiled faintly. “Ten, perhaps tweleve. I forget. But it is time she meets those beyond her Forest Maiden circle.”

  “That is true,” Starmist said. “Perhaps they will become friends, as we did.”

  Amaterasu’s smile softened.

  “You know what Viper said after the colosseum,” she said, laughing quietly. “She said the place was terrifying. Especially when the Abyss supporters began to riot.”

  Starmist laughed with her.

  “She cannot remain an innocent forever,” Amaterasu continued. “This realm will demand her strength. Just as it will from your nephews as well.”

  “You are right,” Starmist said, closing her book.

  They worked in silence until the sun climbed toward its peak. When the shadows shortened, Amaterasu rose.

  “Come,” she said. “We will hunt in the Arun Forest. We shall take our midday meal there.”

  A dozen mythos soldiers armed with spears and bows prepared three horse drawn carts. Amaterasu carried her twin sai, their edges dull with age but deadly all the same. Starmist, as always, bore no weapon.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  The journey took nearly two hours. When they reached the forest’s edge, Amaterasu, Starmist, and several mythos entered the trees. The rest remained behind to prepare a place for the meal.

  “What exactly are we hunting?” Starmist asked, drawing her hood low over her face.

  Amaterasu tightened her grip on her sai. “Would you rather eat rabbit,” she said, “or a yokai that has been causing trouble?”

  “Yokai,” Starmist whispered. “That is what you call spirit monsters, yes? Are they even edible?”

  Amaterasu answered only with a nod, and stepped deeper into the shadows of Arun Forest.

  Several mythos hunters loosed their arrows into the undergrowth. A deer fell first, then a wild boar, both bound and prepared to be taken back to the palace. Amaterasu did not slow for them. Her gaze searched deeper shadows, seeking signs of yokai. Starmist, meanwhile, lingered a step behind, taking in the beauty of Arun Forest. Long leaves of green and fading gold drifted down around them, turning the air into a quiet rain of color.

  They had nearly reached the heart of the forest when they found them.

  Small white mushroom fairies lay scattered near the roots of an old tree. Each was no larger than a clenched fist, their soft bodies marked by spreading black wounds across their bellies. They barely moved.

  Starmist stepped forward at once. Pale mist gathered around her hands as she released the Mist of Conselvace. The vapor flowed gently over the wounded creatures, seeping into torn flesh and poisoned veins. Color returned. Breath steadied. The mushroom fairies were protected beings, vital to the forest. They nurtured the plant elementals, enriched the soil, and consumed decay so the forest could live.

  One by one, they leapt up and clung to Starmist, their tiny arms wrapping around her fingers and sleeves. Amaterasu watched with open satisfaction. The mytos guards did as well, their hearts stirred by the quiet mercy before them.

  “This is the work of yokai,” Amaterasu said. “They harm creatures directly bound to the elements.”

  Starmist gently set the fairies down and watched as they formed a small line, marching away into the brush. “If you walk the forest alone,” she asked, “what do you do when you find creatures like this?”

  “I burn the wounds closed,” Amaterasu replied as she resumed walking. “It is the only way I could.”

  They went deeper. Light thinned until the canopy swallowed it whole. The air grew damp, heavy, pressing against the lungs. Starmist noticed the treetops above them begin to tremble, leaves shuddering without wind.

  Something moved.

  An Itsumade revealed itself among the branches. Its wings were wide and black, its beak long and sharp. Its face was twisted, disturbingly human, and when it cried out it did not sing like a bird but screamed like a dying man.

  Starmist did not recoil. The Extraterrestrial faction bore forms far stranger than this. She even laughed softly when the creature shrieked.

  The Itsumade beat its wings, hurling branches and torn leaves down like a storm. Amaterasu ordered the mytos to shield Starmist at once. She herself held back, careful. A careless release of flame here would turn Aruna into ash.

  Fire crawled along one of her sai. She hurled it with her right hand. The blade struck true, slicing through the monster’s wing. The Itsumade crashed to the forest floor, howling.

  Before it could rise, Amaterasu closed the distance. With her left hand, she drove her second sai straight into its heart. The scream cut short. The forest fell silent.

  Starmist looked at the fallen creature. “We are going to eat this?”

  “Of course,” Amaterasu said as she wiped blood from her twin blades. “Roasted half done, it tastes far better.”

  They left the forest soon after. The mytos waiting by the horse drawn carts had already set a table and raised parasols for shade. Amaterasu and Starmist spoke quietly as the hunters prepared the Itsumade for their meal, smoke rising slowly into the clear midday sky.

  The sky above them was a flawless blue. Not a single dark cloud stained it. Then, without warning, lightning struck.

  A great tree near the carts was split in half by a blinding bolt. The crack of thunder followed, sharp enough to rattle bone. Starmist flinched. The saying was true after all, struck by lightning in broad daylight.

  From the shattered trunk, Susanoo emerged laughing. Smoke curled around him as he stepped free of the splintered wood and strode toward the table. He dropped into a seat across from Starmist as if he had always been there. Amaterasu’s irritation surfaced at once, clear in the tightening of her jaw.

  “Starmist, it’s good to see you here,” Susanoo said lightly. “It’s been a long time.”

  He wore no armor, only a dark blue kimono threaded with silver, loose and careless.

  “Susanoo,” Starmist said, laughing as she covered her mouth. “You really never change.”

  “If you were the one asking, I would gladly become a better god,” he replied with a grin, chewing on a stalk of cyperus grass.

  “Could you leave,” Amaterasu said coldly, “the ladies are speaking.”

  “Oh,” Susanoo said, glancing toward the hunters. “Itsumade meat. Make sure I get a cut from the belly.”

  Amaterasu sighed, ignored once again. Starmist only laughed, her shoulders easing the tension.

  “Did you come alone?” Susanoo asked. “Why didn’t you bring Starfall?”

  “No,” Starmist replied. “He’s being confined by his father. Lord Star wants him to become a more dignified heir.”

  Susanoo clicked his tongue. “Poor Starfall. He’s just like me. A free spirit. His potential will die if he’s shaped into a noble.”

  “That is exactly what he argues with his father about,” Starmist said.

  “I heard a rumor,” Susanoo whispered. “Your second nephew is more ambitious, isn’t he? He wants the inheritance.”

  “If it has reached your ears,” Starmist said softly, “then it is no longer a secret among the elite.”

  She smiled, but her gaze lingered elsewhere.

  “Then why doesn’t Lord Star train that one instead?” Susanoo said. “We all have roles in the All Realm. I only pity Starfall, being caged like that.”

  “Stay out of other families’ affairs,” Amaterasu snapped. “Even if you behaved well, you still have no right to speak on it.”

  Susanoo laughed loudly. “Look at us. A wise shogun leads the faction. My hot tempered sister sits on the council so superhumans obey out of fear. And I become lightning itself, swift and impossible to predict.”

  “That unpredictable lightning of yours unsettles the council,” Amaterasu replied sharply, “and gives the entire All Realm heart palpitations.”

  “Oh, don’t be like that,” Susanoo said with a grin. “We’re about to eat. No need to sour the air for Starmist.”

  “It’s fine,” Starmist said calmly, lifting her drink. “We’ve known each other since we were young. Susanoo, tell me how you spend your days now.”

  Susanoo leaned back, smile widening, as the scent of roasting monster meat drifted through the clearing.

  Susanoo spoke at length about his days hunting monsters during the years of his punishment, when his title as Vanguard still bound him to the frontier. His stories were loud and reckless, often interrupted by arguments with Amaterasu that flared and died like sparks. Starmist mostly listened. Now and then she offered a gentle joke, and the table began to feel less like a council gathering and more like old friends reunited after a long war.

  After nearly an hour, the Itsumade was finally served. The meat was roasted over open flame, dark and fragrant. The mytos refused to sit at the same table as Susanoo, even after Amaterasu and Starmist invited them. They feared his tricks more than hunger.

  “When we first met,” Susanoo said to Starmist, tearing into the meat, “I thought your kind could only eat sweet things.”

  “That was true,” Starmist replied. “But after being forced to adapt, our bodies grew closer to the All Realm itself.”

  Susanoo nodded, chewing thoughtfully.

  “Susanoo,” Starmist asked, her eyes lowered, “do you hate the council?”

  “For punishing me for destroying the harbor?” he said between bites. “Don’t dwell on it. No matter what, you are still my friends.”

  “You only say that because Starmist is here,” Amaterasu teased.

  “Two targets, one arrow,” Susanoo laughed, washing the meat down with sake.

  Dusk crept in slowly. When they returned toward the palace, Amaterasu ordered Susanoo to sleep in the lower keep, while she and Starmist would stay in the upper palace. Susanoo refused at once. He chose instead to wander the night realms with Kusanagi at his side, drinking sake beneath a sea of stars, hunting any monster or yokai foolish enough to disturb the peace.

  “Starmist,” he called back, grinning, “after spending the night with Amaterasu, perhaps some of your kindness will rub off on her.”

  He laughed and walked toward the waiting mytos. Susanoo drew a quarter of Kusanagi from its sheath. The blade whispered. He looked up at the orange sky and bared his teeth in a wide smile at the guards. Their faces drained of color. Some shook their heads, sensing disaster.

  Lightning fell from a swelling storm cloud. Susanoo vanished with it.

  The shockwave sent mytos tumbling. Horses screamed and bolted, carts rattling wildly until they were forced to halt them by hand.

  Amaterasu laughed, shaking her head. “Truly,” she said to Starmist, “the harmony of our family is a beautiful thing.”

  Only after the mytos recovered the fleeing horses and repaired the lightning scarred carts did Amaterasu and Starmist return to Takamagahara, the evening sky closing behind them.