text: “Come, Ylotli! We’re going to be late and miss the whole thing!” “Yes, yes. I’m coming.” Ylotli sighed, laying down her bronze stylus. She closed the lid on the wax tablet and moved it out of the sun. Don’t want it melting and erasing my hard work... There was a skip in Cualli’s step as they reached the terrace of the administrative pyramid. They were on its upper levels, allowing a clear view of the great city of Tlanexnan. Stone edifices jutted from the jungle canopy, towering over the green sea. People poured out of every visible temple, palace and pyramid, all converging on the sacred shrine to the east. She could see them in the squares far below, marching like ants along the jungle roads. Ylotli groaned at the long staircase leading to the jungle floor. Caulli took the steps two at a time. By the Night he’s practically dancing with glee. “Stop that.” She snapped, resisting the urge to yank him by his plaited braid. “Don’t tell me you actually believe this nonsense.” “Believe?” Caulli asked. “What’s there to believe? We know Mazacotl will appear before us. It is written.” “Bah!” Ylotli scoffed. “Ancient stories written by priests to keep us in fear of the gods. Probably an ancestor of that quack, Iccauhtli...” “Don’t you believe in the gods?” Caulli asked. Did she? Once, maybe. She existed, so something must have created the world and all within. But... she’d seen too much of life and too little of divinity for her faith to survive. Where were the gods when the jungle floor flooded? When the enemy was at the gates or the plague decimated a village? Where were they when her son-- No, she’d never seen the gods. But she had seen faulty dams and priests offering the gods’ forgiveness in exchange for a few coins. “I believe the gods exist, but I don’t believe they care about our rituals and platitudes. They certainly don’t care about our coin.” she muttered. “They made us and moved on, as uninterested in their children as a soldier in a whore’s get.” Caulli gasped, looking around. They were alone, thank the Night. That was sloppy. While Ylotli’s opinions weren’t a secret, voicing them like this in public was close to heresy. She may not share the priests’ beliefs, but she didn’t want to end up on the Bloody Altars because of a loose tongue. They reached the jungle floor and walked a few steps in silence. By now their sweaty robes clung to their backs, insects buzzing around their heads. They passed a group of farmers, clay still on their ands and feet, before Caulli turned to her. “So what do you think will happen today?” “Probably nothing.” Ylotli shrugged. “Maybe it’ll rain or something.” “Isn’t the rain a sign from the gods?” “You predict rain enough times...” she left the rest unsaid. “The Bloodstone tablet prophesizes that on this day the Sungod will rest his gaze. Rain clouds covering his great eye,” Caulli pointed towards the sun, “will fulfill that task well enough.” Ylotli cocked an eye at the clear sky then back at Caulli. Not so much as a puffy white cloud marred the perfect blue above the green canopy. “I still think it’ll happen.” Caulli huffed. Ylotli had read of the ‘Sungod’s Respite’, as the Bloodstone tablet called it. Utter rubbish, in her opinion. What use has Mazacotl, the great Sungod, of rest? What a... mortal concept to entertain, thinking that a god needed rest. The Respite was rumored to take place once every two hundred and thirty one years. Long enough that only sparse writings survived to describe it. Whatever the event, their records all agreed that it preceded a period of religious fervor. A dark time of bloody sacrifices and eating the hearts of heretics. What could possibly be dramatic enough to inspire belief? Clearly something must take place for all their records to actually agree on something. It was the one thing that gave Ylotli pause. Soon they joined the stream of humanity pouring out of Tlanexnan and into the surrounding jungle. The time for talking heresy was over. They spent the next hour of their trip discussing the the week’s events. There was farmland to redistribute after the flood, trade shipments to approve and a new temple to be consecrated. And coal to be distributed to the forges, of course. The day grew warmer as they walked, the great orb of the sun climbing higher and shining brighter. The way it glared down at them, radiating power and heat, Ylotli could almost believe it was the eye of some giant being. Ylotli huffed as she trudged, eager to reach the shade of the jungle surrounding the holy hill. The tide of bodies broke on the tree line and slowed to a drizzle as they entered the canopy. The trees were thick, choked with brush and vines and moss, effectively preventing them from seeing more than a few feet to either side. Her feet sank into the mud of the jungle floor, launching clouds of gnats into the air. Though they couldn’t see them, Ylotli heard the rustling leaves and snapping branches of a thousand pilgrims passing through the brush. They reached a clearing and rested on a fallen trunk, sipping water from Caulli’s water skin. “Night, I forgot how far the Sunhill is.” Caulli gasped. Ylotli wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and squinted at the sun. It’s almost like its punishing me for my heresy. “At least the company’s good.” She said, elbowing him in the ribs. “I wonder w-- oh, Night, no. Not him.” A low rumble came from the woods moments before a giant metal cauldron on a cart lumbered into the clearing. It was burned black, with religious scenes painted in bright colors. Six acolytes, dressed in robes of orange, pulled the heavy cart to the middle of the clearing and fell to the mud, heaving and gasping for air. “Tired already?” Iccauhtli, High Priest of Mazacotl, strolled from the woods. His robes were the same orange as his acolytes’ but of better cut and pierced with gold ornaments and bone fetishes. “Your physical exhaustion is merely an external sign of a weak inner faith. Remind me to assign you more prayer time when we’re back.” The acolytes mumbled something that sounded like agreement. The old geezer took it in stride, sturdy cane testing the ground as he walked. His gaze fell on Ylotli and Caulli as he rounded the cauldron. “Ylotli! How’s my favorite heretic? I’m surprised you’d bother making the trip.” “Blessed one!” Caulli dropped to the dirt, one hand covering his eyes and the other reaching for the priest’s robes. His lips moved, muttering silent prayers. “Iccauhtli,” Ylotli said, not getting up. “I thought the plague took you.” I was hoping, anyway. “Nonsense,” he said cheerfully, letting his robes touch Caulli’s outstretched hand as he joined Ylotli on the log. Caulli kissed the robes and wiped them on his forehead before standing once more. “Mazacotl protected me, of course, as one of his chosen faithful.” “I’m sure.” She muttered. “Is that also the reason you’re having this... monstrosity pulled to the Sunhill?” Iccauhtli shrugged. “People are bound to be in a giving mood after today’s spectacle. And temples cost money. No sense wasting a good opportunity.” Ylotli scoffed. “They’ll be so angry when nothing happens, they’ll cook you in that cauldron.” Iccauhtli laughed. Caulli gasped. “How I love a challenge. Truly, Ylotli, converting you will be the pinnacle of my religious career.” It was Ylotli’s turn to laugh. “Arranging your funeral will be the pinnacle of my administrative one.” Caulli sputtered, turning from one to the other in horror. “It’s all right, my boy.” Iccauhtli said, “We grew up together. I know Ylotli is devout, just in her own ways.” “You take that back!” After a few more minutes, the acolytes were rested enough that they were able to resume their journey. The ground soon began sloping upwards, gently at first but growing steeper. Iccauhtli walked with Ylotli and Caulli at the front, in case his acolytes dropped the cauldron. Despite the pace and slope, Iccauhtli and Ylotli somehow bickered the whole way. By mid-afternoon they were closing on the peak. “Blessed one,” Caulli said in a pause between insults, “what sort of miracle are you expecting to see?” “The Bloodstone tablet tells us we will witness the Sungod’s Respite. That in a blood-red light, Mazacotl will rest his eyes for a few minutes.” “Is that why you had that cauldron repainted?” Ylotli asked, pointing over her shoulder at the struggling acolytes. “That giant red eye wasn’t there during the harvest ritual.” “Have to keep up with the times.” He shrugged. “Yes, but still,” Caulli pressed, “what form will the god’s miracle take? Will he cover the sky with clouds so he can rest his eye?” Iccauhtli stared at him like he’d just sprung another head. “Cover th--” he turned between Caulli and Ylotli, “Is the boy daft?” “I--“ “Covering the sky’s no feat worthy of a god. No, he will move the moon in front of his eye, blotting out the light so he can rest without us staring at him the whole time.” Caulli’s jaw dropped, bobbing his head as he muttered more prayers. “It’s called an eclipse,” Ylotli said, “and there’s nothing divine about it.” “Divine enough for some.” Iccauhtli chuckled. “Tell you what, Iccauhtli, if I see any sign divinity today, I’ll buy you a jug of wine.” Caulli’s jaw dropped again. The jungles surrounding Tlanexnan were too warm and humid for grape vines. Wine was a rare delicacy, imported from the far north. A whole jug was more than Ylotli’s wages for a month. “Deal. If you win, I’ll never push my doctrine on you again.” They clasped hands, sealing the bargain. They walked a few steps in silence before Ylotli asked. “I thought your religion prevented you from drinking.” “Considering the fact that I’m converting you, I’m sure Mazacotl will forgive me this one time.” She scoffed again but didn’t press the issue. It wasn’t her problem how the priest dealt with his religious restrictions. As far as she was concerned, she just won her peace and quiet from Iccauhtli’s sect. The rest of the journey passed by uneventfully. They crested the hill just as the sun was beginning to dip from its zenith. The top of the hill was mostly bare of vegetation and the only structure was a small, weather-worn shrine. To say the hill was crowded was an understatement. Everybody and their brother’s come to bear witness. Ylotli thought. Every available stone was a seat, every log a bench. They were only able to move through by virtue of Iccauhtli’s chanted prayers and the heavy cauldron that wouldn’t be stopped. They pushed to a small area around the shrine and made themselves comfortable. Well, as comfortable as the circumstances allowed. Iccauhtli chanted prayers to the crowd as they waited, entreating them to toss their coin in his cauldron. Some coins rattled in, but not enough to justify carrying the behemoth all the way up here. Ylotli felt bad for the acolytes. The sun’s heat was waning and a light breeze picked up, carrying the last notes of Iccauhtli’s chant. It was about this time when Ylotli’s patience was at an end. “So where’s this miracle you promised priest?” “Have faith, Ylotli. The Sungod will no disappoint.” “Faith?” she spat, “All I’ve seen is you chanting for coin with nothing to show for it. At least at the end of today you’ll never pester me aga--“ The light began to dim. A murmur swept the crowd as every face turned to the sun. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, something began covering the sun from the bottom and top, like... eyelids? The light turned red, casting the world in a bloody aura as more and more of the sun was covered. People fell to their knees, foreheads pressed to the dirt as they chanted and muttered. Children cried and distant animals howled. Ylotli turned in the ruby light and noticed she was the only one still standing. But she couldn’t move. Her eyes were fixed on the giant orb in the sky. In minutes it was covered, the bloody light vanishing and leaving the world in darkness. There was a moment of silence before the prayers picked up again, growing in pitch and intensity. Ylotli stood in the darkness, trying to make sense of what she was seeing. She really did try, but her mind couldn’t comprehend it. She just stared at where, minutes before, the sun was shining brightly. The darkness didn’t last long, and a red dot appeared in the sky. It widened as the flaps slowly peeled back, flooding the world in blood-red light. She kept staring at the sun, slowly growing back to its normal size as the light resumed its regular hue. Her mind was numb. There was no way to explain what she’d just witnessed. The sun... blinked. Mazacotl was real! The new light was greeted with the pinging of metal. Metal? It was coins, striking the inside of Iccauhtli’s cauldron. Earlier she’d made fun of him for bringing the massive thing, now Ylotli was beginning to think it wasn’t going to be enough. As the sun returned to normal, and the people’s prayers reached a whirlwind’s pitch, Ylotli’s only thought was that she owed Iccauhtli a jug of wine.