Story:

Then came the finishing rites. The letter was rolled tight, slid into its bamboo cylinder, the cap fitted—and to the cylinder's mouth Kicho applied a magic seal, a small pressed sigil of violet-gold wax bearing the butterfly crest of the sisters, fused with a thread of Euphy's mana.

The seal shimmered once and set. If any hand but the Black Wolf's broke that wax, the paper within would greet the intruder as a blank sheet and a mild curse.

Kicho held up the sealed cylinder between two fingers, spoke a quiet word—

—and light gathered above her palm, folding itself into wings. A messenger butterfly, an aura-construct the size of a hawk, its wings sheets of glowing red parchment that beat the incense-scented air of the room into a small storm.

It lit upon her wrist once, like a falcon taking its perch, feeling the weight of its cargo.

"Alexandria," Kicho told it softly in fairy tongue. "The Black Wolf's tower. No detours, no landing in enemy courts, and do not let anyone pluck you for a specimen."

The butterfly's wings snapped wide—and it seized the bamboo cylinder in its delicate glowing legs, rose from her wrist, spiraled twice around the room in a ribbon of light, then shot out through the open screen door and up into the morning sky over the Yamato mountains.

Kicho watched the butterfly flew out the door. Then she lowered her gaze, rolled her sleeves, and turned back to the room—because there was still a lot to prepare before she venture into the time journey.