NORRIX
Norrix kept to shadows as much as he could, putting his hood up when he had to walk in the sun. He'd attracted some looks. Even in December and this early in the morning, it was already warm. No one else wore long sleeves and a hood, but no one stopped him. People were more frightened by the bodies being found all over the island, or more accurately, skins.
The house Myth had sent him to was empty. Fable had been here, but not recently. They hadn't brought her here when they left Iqiohr's rooms earlier. She was most likely at the pyramid with everyone else, but with the sun ought he couldn't get there easily. He went through the closets, searching for clothing that would help him fit in better. People were dressed for the ceremony. Men went bare-chested and wore tilmatlis, loincloths, and gold jewelry.
Going around mostly naked didn't bother him and his skin tone, though lighter than most, was a dark golden color that wouldn't stand out too much. "Here's hoping I remember how to tie a loincloth so it doesn't fall off." He managed it and draped a tilmatli over his shoulders, fastening it with a gold brooch at his throat.
Helping himself to a maquahuitl, he swung it in a few test strikes. The wooden club could do damage if he hit someone with the flat of it, but the sharp obsidian blades embedded into its sides made it part sword, and were more dangerous. Adding an ornate feathered mask with the same markings the representative had worn last night to his ensemble, he decided that was enough going native. The cloak covered the sides of his legs and the holsters for his guns. If he kept his arms under the cloak the sheaths on his forearms for his daggers would remain hidden. When he had to fight, it wouldn't matter if anyone saw his weapons.
Outside Norrix paced in a shadow, wishing the eclipse would begin. The impending eclipse was solar, which meant the moon would be shadowing the sun, and it would last for hours. He wouldn't burn to ash in the sun during that time. Hopefully it would be long enough to find Fable, free Myth and get out of this place, but he had a sinking feeling they wouldn't manage that before the Sixth world began.
The ahuizotls soundlessly joined him.
"You've been busy."
They looked pleased with themselves tails wagging, hands waving.
As the solar eclipse began, shadow slid over the ground, spreading to cover the streets. Norrix pulled his mask over his face, broke cover and moved towards the pyramid, accompanied by the ahuizotls. Since Myth was taken away, their bond had been filled with trepidation, and now, dread. He needed to get to her, see for himself she was fine.
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IQIOHR
Iqiohr held up the black blade, twisting it in the sunlight. The day was finally at hand. For ten millennia mages had fought for the scant magic a Mage could wield. Unlike other magics, Mage magic didn't grow if it was shared. It was finite in the world and caused Mages to fight one another, drain each other like they were no better than witches. But everything was converging to change that.
The obsidian knife emerged from its mysterious, hidden past at an auction. The full solar eclipse this afternoon would last for hours. A fitting sacrifice, full of untapped magic, would power the ritual. He'd be able to keep the portal open long enough to usher in not only gods, who had been banished or lost their power, but the Sixth Age of Aztlan. He would remake the world, and Mage magic with it.
"Esne, come with me." Iqiohr watched the witch approach him. Normally he would have had the witch dressed to match him, but the Esne didn't warrant that sort of treatment anymore.
The witch was different since it had returned from the auction. Oh, it kept its eyes on him, like always, but there was a slight edge of rebelliousness and defiance in its posture, a hint of keeping secrets from him he didn't like.
His spy reported the knife removed from the auction, and yet the Esne had returned with it. The witch had disappeared into a room the spy couldn't follow her into for hours after the auction was over and emerged with the knife. If the witch had returned unchanged he would have given the Esne its reward, but what had come back from Ashana was not his Esne any longer.
It was just a witch. If he knew for certain it wasn't carrying his son he'd throw it to his men this moment. While they weren't permitted to touch what was his, he'd seen their leers towards his Esne. He'd chosen his Esne when they were children, saved it from the fate of all the witches he'd discarded, not killed it when it bred a little witch instead of a son, taken care of it in spite of the fact that it never showed it could provide him with magic.
The witch would learn its new place today. A mere witch didn't deserve his protection, and today its reward would be its punishment.
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MYTH
Myth tried not to shudder as Iqiohr led the way from his residence, parading her through the streets. She just had to make it through a few more hours. Norrix would take her and Fable away from this place tonight. She could last a little longer.
Iqiohr turned away from the crowd often, and Myth made sure her eyes were on him, like he expected. But something was off. Instead of the dead white eyes and blank expression he typically wore, Iqiohr's lips were turned up in the smallest smile, and there was life in his eyes, like anticipation. It made her blood run cold as he led her up steep, narrow steps to the top of the pyramid.
He only brought her here to make her watch executions. Had he found Norrix? It was daylight out though. Unless Iqiohr had a spell to protect vampires from the sun Norrix wouldn't survive the trip to the temple. Part of her was relieved. At least she wouldn't have to watch Iqiohr cut Norrix open and take his heart. Iqiohr prided himself on drawing the process out as long as he could, and she wouldn't be able to remain stoic about Norrix's death.
The atmosphere was different this time. Executions were almost formal affairs, but the streets and steps were lined with cheering and shouting people dressed in elaborate feathered costumes and shiny jewels. Iqiohr wore ceremonial dress, but hadn't made her dress to match him. She wore the drab blouse and skirt of a slave. When he stopped in front of the altar her heart sank. It was executions, then. Or sacrifices, as he liked to call them.
"Kneel Esne."
Myth sank to her knees on the blood-red rock surface.
"You brought the knife to me. You are owed something for that, since this would not be possible if you had failed me. I will give you your reward. Bring it out."
Myth was careful not to show her emotions. He couldn't mean to make Fable watch him murder people. She was only four years old! Myth stared at Iqiohr with all the adoration she could muster shining in her eyes. She could make herself adore him to save Fable.
A soldier bowed and entered a room behind the altar. He returned a few minutes later, her daughter in tow. Fable's eyes lit up when she saw Myth and she took a step forward, but a hard yank on her arm stopped her in her tracks.
Rage surged in Myth, her Strygoi side fought to come out and kill any man who dared touch her daughter.
Iqiohr circled behind Myth and a sharp blade pressed against the skin of her throat. "Place it on the altar."
"No!" Myth tried to jump to her feet, but the knife cut into her skin. She froze as blood trickled from her neck don her chest, staining her blouse. "She's your daughter! You can't sacrifice her!"
The soldier lifted Fable by one arm and slammed her down on the rough, flat surface.
"It is a witch! It is what you gave me when I asked for a son. I didn't have it killed at birth because it was useful in making you obedient. But you are not obedient anymore, are you?"
Fable screamed soundlessly as her little arms were lifted over her head, the chain between her manacles pressed to the altar.
Myth wanted to tell Fable she would get them out of this, that things would be okay. But she didn't know if they would, and the collar around Table's neck prevented their telepathy.
The obsidian knife in his hand traced a circle around Myth's neck as Iqiohr paced around her where she knelt, stilling her instinctive movement towards her daughter. "You have defiled yourself." He leaned down and whispered in her ear. "I gave you everything and you ruined our life together. The only reason you will not be a second sacrifice today is the chance you've done something right, and this time you are carrying my son."
He straightened and resumed circling her. "As your punishment, it will be the sacrifice tonight. It's a little small to build a fire in its chest, but it has magic. Untapped magic. No one has ever drawn from it. You will wield the knife. If you don't accept your punishment, I will perform the sacrifice, and I'll make sure it suffers before it dies."
Iqiohr kept the knife at her throat and yanked Myth to her feet. Spinning her to face the crowd, he peered into the sky and raised his voice to address the crowd. "Today, as the moon passes over the sun, we will make the sacrifice to usher in the Sixth Age!"
The crowd roared.
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NORRIX
People filled in the road. Norrix pushed his way through them. Initially they refused to move, but anyone turning around to complain was met by a snarling ahuizotl or the club Norrix wielded. He tried not to kill anyone, not wanting to add to the body count of the sacrifices the Scorpion-Mage had planned. The ahuizotls didn't feel the same compunction. Every time one of Iqiohr's guards tried to stop them he ended up a drowned skin.
The bond he shared with Myth went from trepidation to horror and terror. He willed the shadow to move faster. When they reached the pyramid Norrix took the stairs at a run, not caring about hiding his presence any longer. He tripped and shoved people to the side, tossed them over his shoulder, or knocked them flat and leapt over them.
