By blood and light, duty and sacrifice, by the will of Heaven and the needs of man—bind.
I stood. I hadn’t meant to, hadn’t planned it, but I stood because the power flowing through me demanded it. The sword blazed in my hand, its light flowing like the raging of a river, and I felt everything shift.
The words came automatically. I’d memorized them only hours ago, practiced them until I could recite them in my sleep, but now they meant something. Now they were more than words.
“Amaterasu, Lady of Light.” My voice rang across the gardens, amplified bymahouI had not called. “Your Son rises. Bless him this day with your divine presence. Grant him wisdom that he may shepherd your people. Give him strength to protect those who are weak and defeat those who would bring your people harm.”
The light grew brighter as Ifeltthe tether snap into place, felt it connect me to something infinite and ancient and overwhelming.
“Breathe life into your dragon once more, that wonders may return and your Son might have his companion.”
Something stirred in my chest, something that had been sleeping and waiting and coiled tight for centuries.
“Amaterasu, Lady of Light, your people call. Hear our prayer. Roll back the stone and see thy beauty beyond.”
The thing in my chest unfurled. It stretched. Then it woke.
“Amaterasu, Lady of Light, by right of blood and divine light, I, Akira Haru, son of Akiro Takashi, claim your sword. I answer your call. I stand in your stead, for your people and these isles, until my dying breath.”
Power erupted from me. Light blazed from my chest, from my hands, from the sword itself. Sparkling tendrils ofkokyu—the divine energy that poweredmahou, that connected all livingthings—flew outward in a web of shimmering shards. It touched every priest, every monk, every Samurai with even a drop ofmahou, connecting them to me, binding them to their emperor.
It touched Yoshi.
And Kaneko.
That startled me, brought my gaze to them. One, then the other. Their heads were bowed, but I was sure they felt my eyes upon them.
Those touched glowed with my light. Wonder bloomed in their eyes. Joy and terror and awe mixed as they felt what I felt—the tether,the goddess, the infinite power of heaven flowing through mortal flesh.
Then the web faded.
A single strand of luminescence remained, flowing from my chest, snaking around the throne. As it moved, it grew thicker and wider until my hand could have barely spanned it. The light hardened, took shape, then became solid.
Scales appeared.
Crimson and gold, gleaming like sunrise until . . .
They faded, darkening and draining of brilliance until only the absence of color remained.
Black claws extended from black legs freshly formed. A black head emerged, knobby and serpentine, with keen amber eyes that fixed on me with ancient intelligence.
The dragon—my dragon—drew her first breath.
She was magnificent, no longer than my forearm, no thicker than my wrist. She was young, a new hatchling really, with eyes almost as large and round as her belly.
She was fury and grace and primordial power made flesh.
And she wasmine.
I felt her in my soul, felt her thoughts brush against my own, felt the joy of her awakening sing through our bond.
“Haru, my brother.”Her voice resonated in my mind, young and old all at once, the voice of a child with the weight of oceans behind every word.“I believe you owe me a name.”
I nearly fell off the dais.
The dragon’s amusement rippled through our connection as I gathered myself.
I turned to face the cowering crowd—thousands on their knees now, even the warriors then, even those who’d remained standing throughout the ritual, all prostrate before the divine.
