Page 68 of Night of the Dragon

“What will you do now?” Tatsumi wanted to know. The oni gave him a smug look, as if reading his thoughts.

“Oh, don’t worry, Kage. I’m not planning a grand return to wreak my vengeance upon your precious clan. Not soon, anyway.” He waved a dismissive claw. “Hanshou is dead. The Dragon is gone. The rest of the empire will finally calm down a bit with the passing of the Harbinger. And I’ve had enough of this realm to last several lifetimes. Besides...” His mouth curled in a terrifying smirk. “The ruler of Jigoku and I need to have a talk. I think I need to go back and see what O-Hakumon has been planning for this realm without me. Maybe whip the rest of the demons into shape, remind them who their strongest general is. So, don’t worry about me—you’ll all be long dead before I even think of coming back.”

“Thank you, Hakaimono,” I said, and I really meant it. “For everything.”

“Yumeko.” The oni gave me a tired smile. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m going to go home and do my best to forget all about you. I figure a couple centuries of slaughter and depravity should do the trick. If not, well, you’re half-fox. Kitsune can live close to forever, if nothing kills you before then.” The smile grew wider, and he lifted a claw. “Who knows, you just might see me again someday.”

And with that faintly ominous statement, Hakaimono shimmered into a crimson ball of light and arced away toward the valley. I watched it get smaller and smaller, until it joined the flood of demons and spirits being pulled back into Jigoku and vanished from sight.

My feet touched rocky ground, as I landed on a familiar circle of flat stone at the very top of the mountain. The bodies of Genno’s blood mages were gone, but the stone altar still held the remains of a shattered skull, and a long, long strip of parchment, weighed down by rocks and fluttering in the breeze. Ignoring the scroll, I stepped to the edge of the Summoning site and peered down into the valley, where the wound to Jigoku was visible far below. And I watched as the final demons and spirits vanished down the pit, the gates closing with a rumbling of stone and earth, shaking the ground until, at last, only a jagged scar remained.

Then the sickly purple light faded, the roiling clouds disappeared and the first sliver of sunlight broke over the distant horizon.

“It is done.”The Dragon’s voice was a whisper now, barely audible even in the sudden stillness. Overhead, the skies were clear, and the stars were slowly fading as the sun climbed slowly over the mountains, bathing everything in light. “The Wish of this era has been spoken, and the winds of change have begun. Let no one call upon the power of the Dragon’s Prayer for another thousand years.”

The presence of the Great Dragon faded away, vanishing with the stars, and the world was normal once again. I stood at the edge a moment, letting the sun warm my face, before I took a deep breath and turned.

They were all still there—Reika and Chu, Daisuke, Okame, and Kage Tatsumi—their forms translucent in the morning light. And one more, a girl in simple robes with her hair tied back, watching me with a shy, uncertain expression. I blinked in surprise, then smiled at her around the lump in my throat.

“Suki,” I whispered, and she ducked her head. “Why are you here?” She didn’t reply, but it only took a moment before I knew the answer. “You...brought them, didn’t you?” I asked. “When I was alone on the plane of Jigoku. You led them to me.”

The yurei nodded once. “You needed them,” she replied softly. “And they already wanted to help. I just...showed them the way.”

I blinked, as my eyes started to burn. “What will you do now?”

The yurei raised her head to the distant sunrise. “I no longer feel a tie to this world,” she mused. Turning, she gazed at Daisuke, standing quietly with Okame at his side, a warm, affectionate look crossing her features. “My purpose has been fulfilled. I think I can go now.”

Daisuke’s spirit stepped forward and bowed. “Thank you, Suki-san,” he told her solemnly. “And safe travels to you. Do not fear what lies ahead—you will not be alone on your journey.”

She smiled at him, looking peaceful and content. “I used to be afraid,” she murmured. “I’m not anymore. Sayonara, Daisuke-sama. I will always remember you.”

Her form shimmered, becoming a hazy ball of luminescence that circled us once, then flew unerringly toward the rising sun, and was lost from sight. I watched until I couldn’t see the hitodama any longer, then turned back to the spirits of my friends.

For a moment, nothing was said between us. We knew what came next, what had to happen, and I wasn’t ready. I would never be ready.

“Well.” Okame’s gruff voice was first to break the silence. “I guess this is it. And I hate long goodbyes, so...” He gave me that crooked, defiant grin. “Take care of yourself, Yumeko-chan. It was one hell of an adventure, one I wouldn’t change for anything. Just promise me you’ll keep making nobles scream at illusionary rats in their pants.”

I choked on a laugh, tears nearly blinding me. “I will, Okame.”

“Yumeko-san.” Daisuke bowed to me, low and formal. “It has been the greatest of honors to know you,” he said as he rose. “I wish you happiness, and may you never lose that light that drew all of us to your side.”

“Daisuke-san...” I swallowed the lump in my throat. “Thank you. I’ll be sure to write a poem for you and Okame. It will be one that the poets sing for all time.”

He chuckled. “I think we would like that.” Stepping back, he leaned into the ronin, who put an arm around his shoulders. “Sayonara, Yumeko-san,” he murmured, as both he and Okame shimmered, becoming brighter even as they started to fade. The ronin raised his arm in one last salute, before they grew too bright to look at. “We’ll be watching over you, always.”

“Baka kitsune.” Reika stepped forward, the hulking form of Chu at her back. “Why are you crying? This isn’t the end. Death isn’t goodbye forever.”

“I know,” I sobbed. “I’m... I’m just going to miss everyone. We came so far together. I wanted us all to be here at the end.”

Ghostly hands reached out, cool, transparent fingers curling around my own. “We’ll see each other again,” Reika assured me. “Maybe in a different form, under a different name, but in some small way, our souls will always recognize each other. But you have an important task now, Yumeko. The Dragon is gone, but the scroll remains. It won’t become important for another thousand years, but you must decide what to do with it. Whether you decide to split it into pieces once more, hide it away or some other solution I haven’t thought of, its fate is in your hands. What becomes of the Dragon scroll is up to you now.”

She raised her head, closing her eyes as sunlight washed through her, causing her outline to ripple at the edges. “I have to go,” she whispered, opening her eyes to smile at me. “And I’m sure you want a few moments to say goodbye to Kage-san.” Her hand rose, ghostly fingertips touching my cheek. “You’ve made me proud, kitsune. Remember, you’ll never be alone. No one is ever truly gone.”

“Arigatou,” I whispered shakily as, for just a moment, the shrine maiden’s image glowed blindingly bright. “Thank you, Reika-san. Everyone. Thank you all so much.”

The light faded, and both Reika and Chu were gone. For a moment, I stood there, shaking, tears streaming down my cheeks. Then,hispresence was behind me, his voice low and soft in my ear.

“Yumeko.”

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