Author's Note:
And now for something completely different. This is not a short story, and though it is broken into sections I chose to post it as a complete piece. This tale consumed me for many months. I let it fester and grow into something much more than the original idea. It led me to research, and become fascinated with an often overlooked and misunderstood past culture of peoples.
All characters are at least 18 years old or older.
I want to thank Pelgris, and Me2 for the hours of editing, and all of their advice throughout the writing process.
Thank you in advance for reading!
Please leave a comment or send me a private message. Let me know if you loved it, or hated it. I am always looking for ways improve my storytelling.
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Prologue
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The Gods had gathered in the clearing before the mountain shrine on the final day of Teteo Eco. Their voices growing angry as they bickered. Thunder shook the shrine, and the wind blew mercilessly threatening to destroy the small adobe hut set before the entrance to the shrine. The Gods were well fed, but the absence of the rains weighed heavily on them. Tezcatlipoca had told them a season ago that the rains would be fewer and the people of the valley would die.
All of the Gods were very fond of the peoples that had settled in the valley. They had built great monuments and fed the Gods constantly. The Gods visited the valley with its growing islands, and great causeways that led to the greatest temple complex in the history of this world. Most had left the rest of their people to return to the old ways, letting them forget the Gods altogether. The glory of the sacrifices coming from these people were more than any other people in the world.
"If the people die, who will feed us?" Xipe Totec asked as he stepped closer to the two beings standing at the center of the clearing. The skins of those sacrificed in his honor flapped loosely at his wrists and ankles. His bright orange eyes shining through the mask of flesh over his face.
"Yes!" Coatlicue called out, as she stepped next to Xipe Totec. "If the people all die, who will feed your gluttonous appetites, Huitzilopochtli?" The snakes that made up her intricate skirt raised their faces hissing in agreement at the bronze being in the center.
"Don't worry about my appetite, Mother," Huitzilopochtli responded, his voice carrying like a war cry. "I will eat very well before the end comes. My priests will sacrifice many during Panquetzaliztli."
"And what of the rest of us?" Quetzalcoatl hissed, as he slithered forward, his feathers flashing blue and green in the sunlight. "Will we be left to starve?"
"No," Tlaloc's voice boomed as he took a step away from Huitzilopochtli in the center of the clearing. "I will find a way to bring the rains and keep the people from dying of starvation."
"How?" Xipe Totec spat, turning his flaming glare to the pale shimmering being casting halos of rainbows around him. "It's your fault the drought has come. You and your bloodless deaths, and meals of tears. You have less and less control over the rains. When they do come they leave nothing but destruction in their wake. Only the four deadly Tlaloque visit this realm. The single beneficial Tlaloc is forever absent."
Tlaloc snarled, flashing long ivory fangs at the Flayed God. "I will confer with Tezcatlipoca, and we will find a way to save the people and satisfy our need for blood in the process. I am sure we will find the balance. I will not allow many to die of starvation in the process."
Tezcatlipoca stepped from the shadow of the shrine, his ever changing grey flesh causing all of the Gods and Goddesses to look away as if their eyes burned. "I believe I already have. You must take sacrifices. True sacrifices. Not just drowned children. Come Tlaloc, we will discuss what needs to be done. The rains must fall, and fall gently before Nemontemi, or the people will be lost."
The Storm God, and the Smoking Mirror disappeared into the shrine speaking quietly. Slowly, the Gods began to fade away as they returned to their duties, and pleasures, elsewhere in the realm of man or in Mictlan.
Chapter 1. Deliverance
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I stood at the first set of steps at the bottom of the great temple pyramid. I had been pulled from my dinner at the insistence of a messenger. The long runner had announced that I must go immediately to the temple complex at Tenochtitlan. The priests were waiting for me at the great temple. They had urgent need of me, and it could not wait until the morning.
"Did the priest tell you why I was being summoned?" I asked tearing my eyes from the intimidating height of Huey Teocalli to look at the long runner at my side.
"No, they ordered only that you come to the temple immediately. Nothing more," he murmured, his eyes taking in the dual sets of seemingly endless steps leading to the summit. "Though, I do wish they had sent a priest to retrieve you. Instead of making me come back to this temple twice, after dark."
I offered a polite smile to the long runner. "Tell my family I went willingly."
I was the daughter of a small maize farmer. Common as dirt. I was willing to give myself to any of the Gods if it would benefit my family. I knew that the families of most non-warrior sacrifices were paid handsomely. My family would mourn my absence, but they would also be grateful for one less mouth to feed. Our crop had failed in the drought, and my family had been struggling to survive all season.
"I will," he said meeting my eyes for the first time since we entered the plaza. "Go with the Gods." He turned on his heel and fled from the plaza.
"That's the only way I can go," I whispered watching him go. I wished that I could run after him, and return to the safety of my home.
I drew a deep breath as the long runner vanished into the night. I whispered a prayer to any God close enough to hear for mercy and turned back to the Great Temple. I looked back up the dual steps of Huey Teocalli. I focused on the two figures at the top, looking down on me from the center of the platform at the top of the temple. I sighed loudly and began the treacherous climb to the summit.
We had celebrated the final festival of Panquetzaliztli, the Raising of Banners, today, in honor our greatest of Gods, Huitzilopochtli. The festival had run late into the evening. The warrior sacrifices made to the War God had been so numerous that the priests had sent sacrifice after sacrifice to Tlaloc's alter, as well. By late afternoon, blood had flown down both sets of steps like twin sanguine rivers. The bodies of those sacrificed had taken hours to cart away to be cremated or butchered. As a result, the priests had not had the time before full dark to scrub and whitewash the Great Temple.
The steps were alternatively sticky and slick with pooled blood in different states of coagulation. My assent was slow. Winded and shaking, I finally reached the apex. After taking a few steps further onto the stable limestone, I bent double, shaking and panting. I'd nearly tumbled backward down the steep steps more times than I cared to count. I had been so focused on during my long climb, that I had forgotten I had been summoned to the great heights of the temple by priests that were waiting for me.
I heard one of the priests clear his throat impatiently, and jerked upright. I stared wide eyed at the figures cloaked in xicolli so blood stained they looked black in the gentle light of the moon. They stared at me coldly, their black eyes flashing in the torchlight.
I looked at their bloody hands, and whispered another prayer that my family would receive payment for my sacrifice. Though seeing the priests, I didn't think any amount would be enough. They were a terrifying pair. Panic flooded my veins, and the urge to run back down the temple's steps was nearly overpowering.
Our Priests rarely bathed, they wear the blood and gore of each sacrifice with great pride. They are horrid filthy creatures, glorying in the blessings of their God, as they participated in sacrifice after sacrifice. They often preached that the Gods must be fed, and they are often hungry. The priests of each of our numerous Gods seemed to believe that it would bring that God's displeasure were they to bathe away the blood shared, only bathing if Tlaloc blessed a ceremony with rain.
The priests of Tlaloc bathed more frequently and often the sacrifices were less bloody. Most sacrifices to our rain God were done by drowning. If Tlaloc required the heart it was often taken after death. The sacrifices earlier were an exception, and as a result I could not tell if the priests awaiting me were Huitzilopotchli's or Tlaloc's.
Yoalli Ehecatl blew at my back, pushing me to take a step toward the priests. "You look scared half to death, child," one of them cackled, his black eyes glittering.
The Night Wind pushed at my back again, forcing me to take yet another step toward the priests. I couldn't tear my eyes from their bloodied hands. "Being summoned to the Great Temple is rarely a promise to see old age, my lords." I glanced up at their faces. "Especially, a summon after dark, without ceremony."
"Luck is with you, child, perhaps not to see old age. But our God Tlaloc has a special need of you. Please follow." They both laughed as they turned, walking toward the altar room occupying left half of the temple. Within seconds they had disappeared within.