The royal palace. The council chamber. Gathered there were the great servants of the gods, the mighty of the mortal world, and the king—the guardian of cosmic order. The council had been called in extraordinary session by Cuathli, High Servant of Xochipilli—and yet he dared to arrive late. Such behavior might have been expected once from the High Servant of Huehuecoyotl, at least as he had been before. Now, however, even he sat calmly like the rest, waiting.
At last Cuathli entered, bringing with him a priestess. The king did not let the matter pass unremarked.
"Cuathli, you are late."
The priest and his companion bowed to the king and the council.
"My apologies, Your Majesty. Assigning priests to their tasks took longer than I expected."
The king frowned, then declared the council in session.
"Before we begin, I must say something—and not I alone. The priest of Quetzalcoatl and the priest of Tlaloc wish to speak as I do. I yield the floor to the High Servant of Xipe Totec."
The priest of Xipe Totec pointed accusingly at Cuathli.
"With all respect, High Servant of Xochipilli, what are you thinking? To appoint Citalli—that demon—to aid in such a sacred rite?!"
The priest of Quetzalcoatl nodded.
"She is beyond help. Forever lost in darkness."
The priest of Tlaloc added his judgment.
"Suffering purifies, but her heart has been utterly ruined. She exists only because Mictlan refuses to take her."
Others nodded, as if in agreement. The king grew mildly irritated. To speak ill of another behind her back was poor manners. Yet it was true that Cuathli owed them an explanation.
All such questions, however, were driven aside in an instant—for the woman Cuathli had brought unleashed a dreadful aura. All present began to shake, and in the span of a heartbeat they fell into panic.
They ran about the hall, shrieking in primal terror. Their dignity as sages and models of virtue was gone. They scattered like frightened rabbits into whose midst a jaguar had leapt. Only the king remained seated, unmoved—but even he trembled, sweat streaming down his back.
"Enough! Return to your seats!"
None obeyed. Not even the king's command restrained them. They fled in blind fear, like animals, until—
"Silence, fools!"
At the strange woman's word, they froze as if struck. They still trembled, but not one dared to move.
"Did you not hear the king's command? You will return to your seats at once."
They obeyed immediately. Only their shaking and chattering teeth betrayed the shameful scene.
"Truly. You are high priests and the greatest of nobles. And you behave thus? You should be ashamed."
All lowered their heads, wondering who this woman was. But before they could ask, the king himself spoke.
"Enough, Citalli. We know it is you. But what has happened? Why has your dark aura, your hatred, vanished?"
A collective cry of shock rang out.
"That is Citalli?!"
Impossible. Could this woman be the demon? At most she might be some stern instructor in the calmecac—not that monster. It could not be.
Cuathli stepped forward.
"This is why I called the council. During his prayer upon the techcatl stone in the preparation chamber, Tlacotzin received a vision. Citalli's state is bound up with it. Hear me."
He recounted Tlacotzin's vision.
According to the youth's testimony, he floated above the city with butterfly wings upon his back. From the place of his heart flew blossoms that formed a barrier around the city through which no darkness could pass. And his music restored color to flowers in the city that had withered.
All were unsettled. A vision upon the techcatl was no light matter. And it had been given to the chosen one.
The priest of Quetzalcoatl spoke first.
"You suggest Tlacotzin is to be our guardian spirit?"
Cuathli nodded. The priest of Huehuecoyotl added:
"Citalli's renewal is the proof."
The priest of Xipe Totec agreed.
"This is more than renewal—it is miracle. In days he has done what none achieved in years."
The king sighed. It was well known that those who gave their lives upon the sacrificial stone gained special significance in the afterlife. Most simply aided the gods in their labors. But Tlacotzin was to be not only Xochipilli's servant, but their guardian spirit. That changed much indeed.
"We must build a temple and a tomb for our guardian spirit—and prepare him for his role."
Cuathli chuckled softly, prompting the king's rebuke.
"What amuses you, Cuathli?"
"Forgive me, Your Majesty. I imagined Tlacotzin's reaction. I am certain that if he heard he was to have a tomb and even a temple, he would be shocked and try to persuade everyone that a simple grave in the sacred garden would suffice."
After a moment, several chuckled.
"It is true. He is a modest youth. Yet both tomb and temple are needed—for him, and for the people of the city. Master Architect—how long to build such a temple?"
The master architect thought.
"I believe the best choice would be a pyramid near Xochipilli's temple, joined to his garden, with a plaza before it, and the tomb directly beneath."
"A good plan—but how long?"
"We would have to begin at once and press every effort. But we could finish before the festival."
"Employ as many workers and scholars as you require. Draw men from other projects if need be. The temple has absolute priority. If the workers succeed, they will be rewarded; if not, they face the lash."
"I understand, Your Majesty."
"Cuathli—tend to Tlacotzin with Citalli. He will need your support."