Tepiltzin let go of the still beating heart. The pulsating organ began to float in the sky and it started to drift towards the portal. As the bleeding heart passed over the resurrected Aztec warriors below, its crimson drops seemed to heal their wounds as shattered bones become whole, separated limbs were magically reattached and missing ones grown back. By the time the floating heart was swallowed up by the portal, there were now a fresh batch of close to thirty thousand Aztec warriors who had previously died in the past few months, now back in the land of the living once more. Soldiers from the Eagle Knights recognized some of their fallen comrades as they walked over and embraced.
“See the power of our gods!” Tepiltzin roared from the top of his lungs. “Witness their devotion to our people! For even Huitzilopochtli goes forth to the underworld just to bring back his fallen children, so that they can fight for him once more! Our new empire cannot fail, we will not fail! For our armies are now endless, our warriors will return from the land of the dead to continue the fight until all our enemies have been vanquished! Nothing will stop the sixth sun from beginning!”
Later that afternoon, Tepiltzin had the previous high priest summoned to the temple. The former high priest Coaxoch came into the main hall wearing a suit of dried human skin. The husk was beginning to flake off, but it was still thick enough, Tepiltzin couldn’t recognize the man beneath it. The new high priest was tempted to order Coaxoch to strip away his skin suit, but there had been strict orders from Xipe Totec’s avatar that the suit must either be voluntarily removed by its wearer or just be allowed to flake away naturally.
“I greet you, High Priest Tepiltzin. Welcome to Teotihuacan,” Coaxoch said.
Tepiltzin was sitting on a stone chair. He could feel the palpable hostility between them. He figured it must be due to jealousy. “Why did you not attend the morning sacrifice?”
“I had other duties to perform and I figured you would not need my help,” Coaxoch said nonchalantly.
“I am disappointed in you,” Tepiltzin said tersely. “I had expected a better display of respect coming from a high priest whose position I was to take. Though I understand your feelings. If you disagreed with the avatar’s decision to be replaced, then why did you not speak with him about it?”
“That is a matter I shall be taking up with him when I travel back to Tenochtitlan now that my position here is finished,” Coaxoch said before making a slight bow. “My apologies if you thought my absence in your ritual today was a sign of disrespect.”
Tepiltzin nodded. “Very well, you may go. Feel free to spend the night here before you go back to our glorious capital.”
Coaxoch already had his back turned and was walking away when he answered. “I have no intentions of staying in a city in which I am no longer a high priest of.” With those words, he had already left the room as he moved into the passageway beyond.
Tepiltzin said nothing. His assistants silently looked at each other with quizzical glances as they stood nearby.
The house of the high priest was once the palace of Quetzalcoatl. With the new alliance between the three other gods, all temples and houses to either the feathered serpent or the god of the smoking mirror were converted to other things, so as to suppress any memory of them. Since Teotihuacan had just been newly rebuilt, the façade of these ornate buildings looked very distinct with their white plastered walls. The carved representations of Quetzalcoatl had been removed and replaced by the stone idols of Xipe Totec.
Tepiltzin really didn’t have time to admire his personal quarters, even though the newly painted walls were elaborately designed with myriad frescoes of Aztec daily life. He simply had too many rituals to do for the rest of the evening despite having already been exhausted from the ceremony that afternoon. He had already given orders to his assistants to summon his brother so they could have a private chat just for a few minutes, for that was the only time he had for his family. The rituals of appeasing the gods and the affairs of running a temple would take up the rest of his time for the next few weeks, at least. Unlike the ancient Aztec Empire of centuries ago, there was no emperor to rule over them all. In this new version, all the power was centered on the avatars and high priests of the Triple Alliance, it was through them that the gods spoke and ruled over all their lives. Even though there was now an Aztec aristocracy that oversaw the warrior castes, they were still subservient to the avatars of Huitzilopochtli, Xipe Totec, and Tlaloc. The new Aztec Empire was a literal theocracy.
Since he felt that he needed to enact the ritual before his brother came to see him, Tepiltzin took off his feathered cloak and placed it near his cot. Then he slid the loincloth down to his ankles and knelt in front of the small stone altar of Xipe Totec. Even though he was a high priest, it was still a sacred duty for him to sacrifice his own blood in order to appease his god. Since there was a mat of thorns he had placed in front of the altar, his knees started to bleed. When he had first enacted his personal bloodletting, the pain was so intense, he almost screamed in agony during the first dozen or so times when he tried it. Ever since he became high priest, he could feel the power of Xipe Totec coursing through his body and that gave him a much higher tolerance for pain. The magical incense that he had thrown over the burning brazier illuminating his chambers also had an anesthetic effect, since it numbed the nerves in his limbs as he inhaled its sharp, flowery fumes.
Tepiltzin then took a carved stingray barb lying on top of the altar. Using his thumb and forefinger, he bent down and pierced his left scrotum while using his other hand to place a small ivory bowl in between his knees. The trickle of blood soon cascaded down his upper leg as he scraped every drop of the thick, crimson liquid using the bowl. The pain was intense, but he gritted his teeth and concentrated until he had a fair amount of blood on the bowl. After placing the bowl and needle back on the altar, he grabbed a handful of green leaves from a wooden bucket beside the shrine, stuffed them into his mouth and began to chew. The plants were bitter, but they took the edge of the pain away. He spat out the pulp in his hand and rubbed it on his bleeding wound. As the pain began to subside, he stood up and pulled the loincloth back over his genitals, then rubbed more of the plant pulp on his skinned knees. Tepiltzin then crumpled some parchment inscribed with the symbol of the Flayed One and placed it on the ivory bowl. As he watched the crumpled paper absorb the blood on the bowl, he took a burning candle from a nearby side table and stuck its burning end at the bloody parchment. Almost immediately, the blood stained vellum disappeared in a puff of smoke.
“O great Xipe Totec,” Tepiltzin chanted. “I humbly offer you this small sacrifice. May my blood mingle with yours. May my sacrifice satiate your need. May my sacrifice honor thy name. May my sacrifice strengthen thee. Amen.”
Just as he finished his chant, the wooden door to the outside corridor opened and his brother stepped inside. Yaotl was dressed in an elaborate feathered harness. His red loincloth had strips of metal on it. The wrapped headband over his forehead had jaguar and eagle designs. Tepiltzin grinned as he walked up to his younger brother and embraced him for a whole minute.
The high priest continued to smile as he stood back and admired his brother’s uniform. “You look like a proper warrior, Jorge. Thank you for taking the time to see me.”
Yaotl giggled. “I should be the one to thank you for allowing me a break from my training. It has been hard, but just seeing you, even for a short time, makes it all worthwhile.”
Tepiltzin gestured to a wooden table and chairs at the far end of the room. “Let’s sit down and talk for a bit, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen you, Jorge.”
Yaotl followed his brother over to the table and sat down on the opposite chair. “I’m surprised you still call me by my old Spanish name. I thought we all have to go by our Nahuatl names now.”
Tepiltzin grinned as he poured some wine from a glass bottle into a wooden cup and handed it to his brother. “We are alone and I have just finished enacting my bloodletting ritual. That ought to
alleviate any sort of rule break. So I figured a little talk about the old times would be good for both of us. Have you been back to the farm to see our mother lately?”
Yaotl shook his head. “No, I haven’t. I’ve been busy all this time. As soon as I finished my training in the House of the Youth in Tenochtitlan, I was immediately assigned to a training unit, just days before we attacked Dallas.”
“I prayed to the gods to see you weren’t hurt,” Tepiltzin said. “Thank goodness you came out of that battle in one piece.”
Yaotl laughed. “There is no need to pray for my safety, Ramon. Our gods always protects us in battle. In fact, it doesn’t even matter if I die. Since our war god Huitzilopochtli always brings the dead warriors back from the underworld, death has become meaningless in our empire. I shall gladly give up my life in our wars.”
Tepiltzin frowned. “Don’t say such things. You must promise me you will look after yourself. Even though our sacrificial rituals can bring you back from the dead, I would prefer you not to have to go through it.”
Yaotl was confused. “Why don’t you want me to die? What’s wrong with coming back from the lands of the dead to do battle once more?”
“Have you not spoken to the warriors who’ve returned from Mictlan?”
“Yes,” Yaotl said. “One of my batchmates was killed in Dallas and he returned from the underworld just a few days ago.”
“And? Was he still the same person after he returned?”
Yaotl rubbed his smooth chin as he thought about it for a moment. “Actually, now that you asked me that question, it does seem he is somewhat different. His name was Nelli and he was particularly good at sketching and painting. After he returned, all he could do was stare at the blank canvas and he couldn’t even pick up his paintbrush anymore. We all wondered about it. When we asked him, he just said that he couldn’t think about what to draw or paint anymore. We all thought that maybe it was just because he was no longer interested in it.”
“That is what I mean,” Tepiltzin said. “I’ve noticed that the warriors who have been killed and returned a number of times have already forgotten about their wives, their family and friends. It is as if every time they come back from Mictlan, the underworld takes a piece of their life essence and memory. I shudder at the thought of those that have been killed over a dozen times. I have a feeling that if you die enough times and come back, your body will be nothing but an empty shell. It is as if the gods exact a price every time you return from the dead. The constant resurrection strips away one’s very soul.”
Yaotl had a quizzical look on his face. “Then why has this not been discussed amongst our caste then? Surely we should make this part of our training so that less of our warriors would be so foolish enough as to charge in the face of enemy fire?”
His older brother’s response was in a half-whisper. “This is not a subject that is openly discussed. Some of the higher ranking nobles have talked about it, but we have all agreed to keep this bit of knowledge from the rank and file. We must keep up the faith that our warriors are invincible because they always return from the dead.”
Yaotl hissed. This was sobering news for him. “Can I at least tell my batchmates about it? I heard that we are assembling new raiding parties to cross the American lines to capture more sacrifices. If they are more careful, then we can incur less casualties.”
Tepiltzin shook his head. “No, this knowledge cannot leave this room.”
“But why, Ramon?”
Tepiltzin let out a deep breath. “I am telling you of this because you are my brother and I want you to be careful. We have won many great victories but I cannot afford to lose you. You must also not play in any official tournaments of ullamaliztli. I heard that you are a good player in it, but I must order you to stop playing.”
Yaotl almost stood up in shock. “What? But it’s just a ballgame! It’s a game that our ancestors have played for thousands of years. All we do is hit a rubber ball with our hips, elbows and head! What is so wrong about that?”
“Yes, it is just a game. Yet what happens to the team when they win an official tournament again?”
“They are sacrificed. So what?”
Tepiltzin’s hands shook with rage and frustration. “Yes they are sacrificed! Can’t you see? I do not want you to end up winning an official match and getting sacrificed for it! Unlike warriors who die in battle, we do not bring back the ones who are sacrificed. You must promise me to stop playing in it.”
Yaotl crossed his arms. “But being sacrificed is a great honor though. The winners are always remembered in that game.”
Tepiltzin closed his eyes and grimaced. “Jorge…”
His younger brother started laughing. “You are really strange, Ramon. First you tell me not to get killed in battle because I'll lose a part of my soul when I return, now you don’t want me to play a game of ullamaliztli! You’re supposed to be a high priest that does sacrifices all the time! It doesn’t make any sense to me. You’re supposed to encourage sacrifice, not discourage people against it.”
Tepiltzin grabbed Yaotl’s hand as it lay on the table. He stared into his brother’s eyes. “Jorge, I beg you. You are my one and only brother and I love you. I have always loved you since you were a child, and I will break if I ever lose you. Promise me. Promise that you do as I say!”
Yaotl was surprised at his brother’s intensity. Then he smiled. “Alright, Ramon. I will do this for you. I will be careful in battle and I will stop playing ullamaliztli. Just for you.”
Tepiltzin leaned back and sighed. It was as if a great weight was lifted from his chest. “Thank you, Jorge. I know you are giving up a lot but this means so much to me. I’m sure it will mean so much to Mama as well.”
Yaotl took a sip of wine. “You are such a bearer of bad news to me. I had a plan to charge at the enemy ranks at the next battle, but now I must stalk like a jaguar to take my captives and gain an increase in rank. Do you know that one of my batchmates charged a barricade in Dallas and he was able to capture four of the enemy without even being wounded? They made him an Eagle Knight the very next day. I was so jealous of him because I have been dreaming of becoming an Eagle Knight too. They are the best in our army, the power of Huitzilopochtli enables them to fly and attack from above like a real eagle. Have you ever seen them personally in battle? They are a glorious sight to see. They are led by Commander Huemac, the greatest warrior in the empire- he’s never been killed in battle and he’s captured so many of the enemy, he’s lost count. I hope to be like him one day.”
Tepiltzin couldn’t help but smile. His brother’s eagerness was infectious. “Just take it slow and careful, you’ll get there. The Jaguar Knights are better in my opinion. The eagle warriors may get all the glory but the true elites are the jaguars.”
“Yes, yes, they are very good at what they do as well,” Yaotl said. “Though they tend to be too slow and careful when they capture. The Jaguar Knights tend to change shape and attack when the enemy isn’t looking. I prefer the way of the eagles- it’s far more honorable.”
“The Eagle Knights take a lot of casualties because of the way they fight, the jaguars rarely take losses. Be a jaguar. It’s better.”
Yaotl snorted. “That’s easy for you to say. Right now, I have only notched one captive taken. It’s gotten me a promotion into the blooded ranks of the warrior caste, but here I am stuck as an instructor for children! I will do as you ask, but you must use your influence as a high priest to get me reassigned.”
Tepiltzin’s eyebrows shot up. “Reassigned? Back to the front lines?”
“Yes. I need to get more captives so I can increase in rank and qualify for the jaguars or eagles. I can’t do it as an instructor at the House of the Youth.”
“You don’t want to stay here close to me? You’re safe here and under my protection. I pretty much run this city now.”
Yaotl looked out the window and stared at the clear evening sky. “I appreciate all that you’ve done for me. But I need t
o strike out on my own. I cannot keep living beneath your shadow all the time.”
Tepiltzin looked down at the crumbs on the table. His younger brother was right. “Very well, I shall see to it and have you reassigned. I know Huemac and I’ll see what I can do.”
“Thank you, Ramon! Huemac is the best, it’s my dream to serve under him,” Yaotl said enthusiastically before he saw his brother’s worried demeanor. “Is there something else that’s bothering you?”
Tepiltzin nodded. “It’s not really something I should be telling you.”
“You’re going to tell me anyway. I know you and I know that look.”
Tepiltzin drummed his fingers on the table. “The high priest that I replaced here, Coaxoch.”
“What about him?”
“I think he is trouble. He did not participate in the ceremony today. That is a gesture of disrespect to me since he should have done a ritual handing over after the sacrifice was made. He dishonored me. Instead, he just stayed at the altar in the Pyramid of the Moon. Our avatar has forbade us priests to harm each other, but I must find a way to bring him under my heel.”
“I see what you mean. I have met him a few times and I think I know why he doesn’t like our family.”
Tepiltzin was shocked. “What? He knows our family? Who is he?”
“His original Spanish name was Marcelino Morales. He was the son of Francisco Morales. Remember him?”
“Old man Morales? He was just a gardener in our estate as I remember.”
“Yes.”
Tepiltzin’s eyes narrowed. “I see. So it’s not just professional jealousy. He blames our family for what happened to his father then. Alright, that is good to know. I just can’t imagine how our great uncle could have chosen him as high priest after you told me this.”
A World Darkly (Wrath of the Old Gods Book 3) Page 14