Blood & Fur

Chapter Seventy-Nine: Dark Truths (+Book 2's launch!)

The gods had smiled on me for once.

Though I feared discovery when they recalled me into their halls, the Nightlords did not notice my Word of power. Either my predecessors successfully managed to obscure my spell from their sight, or they were too preoccupied with the twin threats of the Sapa and their dreadful father to fully pay attention to me.

When they welcomed me back into their hall, I could immediately tell that they hadn’t found a solution to my sudden growth in power, besides increasing their surveillance and destroying the Sapa.

“Your request for additional security for your unborn children shall be granted,” the Jaguar Woman decided. “As for the Sapa Empire, it has now become clear that these fools have plotted against our beloved Yohuachanca long enough. Our sister Sugey, as goddess of war, shall ensure your victory in the conflict to come.”

I’d expected as much, though I remained apprehensive about the consequences. On one hand, I expected the Bird of War to be less of a hassle than her sister Iztacoatl, since she seemed utterly disinterested in intrigue; on the other hand, having a Nightlord overseeing my military strategy limited my choices when dealing with the Sapa Empire.

Whatever the case, I feigned submission.

“I shall do as the goddesses ask,” I promised.

“Yes, you shall,” the Jaguar Woman replied with a tone that promised great punishment if I stepped out of line. “At her request, young Eztli will be allowed to join your procession and enjoy her mortal pet’s companionship until you reach the frontier, at which point she will need to dedicate herself to her new duties.”

I noticed Eztli scowling at the mention of ‘mortal pet,’ but both of us wisely kept our mouths shut. This intermission, however brief, should allow Necahual to brief her about our plan without too much oversight.

“Go forth now, our Godspeaker,” the Jaguar Woman declared as the Nightlords dismissed me. “Crush Yohuachanca’s enemies so that your descendants may enjoy a prosperous future under our Sulfur Sun.”

I lowered my head in submission, while promising myself that I would drown that foul vision in vampire blood.

I was thus allowed to leave Zachilaa in triumph. The heavy rain miraculously ceased as I ascended on Itzili to ride out of the city at the forefront of the imperial procession.

Consuming Tlaloc’s embers also had a noticeable effect on my feathered-tyrant. Not only had his feathers started to take on a blue hue, but his daily growth spurts had starkly accelerated. While he could squeeze through doors with difficulty only a night ago, he was now too big for that. He intimidated smaller trihorns when he walked, and I suspected he might reach adult size by the time we invaded the Sapa. It would make for quite the surprise for our enemies, and he more than awed the crowds of commoners and nobles that arrived to celebrate the imperial procession. As I suspected, many thanked me for the rain that blessed their fields.

The prophet had promised them a gift from the heavens and delivered.

I felt their trust and faith flowing into me as they clamored for me to prevail in the war and bring fortune to the empire. My example had inspired hundreds of young men to join the army and follow on my journey south. Their belief in my divine strength hung in the air and emboldened me. My Tonalli greedily welcomed them like a bird gathering branches to build its nest.

It was quite the intoxicating sensation, and the worrying kind.

My soul was already reacting to the worship of the common men, but I remained first and foremost the First Emperor’s and the Nightlords’ Godspeaker for most; the intermediary between the dark gods of Yohuachanca and the herd they ruled over. As ever, I was wary of the lie becoming the truth.

How much influence did other people have over my divinity? I could tell that their beliefs had an impact, but as far as I knew the First Emperor became a god of hunger because of his own search for knowledge; a quality that came from a quality dwelling deep within his soul rather than enforced by the will of his worshipers.

How much impact did my choices have compared to the perception of thousands?

Between the danger of being forced into a role and the risk of my magic acting on its own if I didn’t practice it, I was starting to wonder what kind of image I wanted to portray among the population. So far, I had only played the part of the generous emperor whenever possible in public; proceeding with rituals, blessing cities and refugees, and speaking on behalf of the gods. Most of my questionable actions, such as Acampa’s massacre, remained hidden from the public at large.

But on the other hand, I was the emperor who oversaw the disastrous New Fire Ceremony, brought about Smoke Mountain’s eruption and prophesied doom on behalf of the First Emperor in front of the entire capital. Whatever good I did was likely overshadowed in the minds of people by all the calamities my reign brought about thus far.

Not to mention that while I inspired zeal among my people through centuries of imperial propaganda, the likes of the Sapa and the Three-Rivers only saw me as a hated enemy to destroy. Would their hatred influence me too?

More than anything, I found the idea of being a deity subordinate to the Nightlords and their sire in any way utterly unbearable. It was paramount that I use this war as a way to express my independence in some way. I needed people to associate my acts with my person, whether they brought curses or blessings.

“My lord looked magnificent atop his mount,” Ingrid told me as I ascended to my longneck’s roaming quarters to rejoin my consorts and concubines. “Like the rising sun.”

“Thank you, Ingrid,” I replied with a pleased smile. “Perhaps I should ride Itzili in public more often.”

The image of an emperor riding atop a feathered tyrant on his way to conquer new lands ought to linger in people’s minds.

I gave a cursory glance at my confidantes. Chikal and Lahun gave me pointed looks, while Chindi smiled at me with what could pass for hunger; those three had noticed the changes in me. I suspected Ingrid detected them too, though she pretended otherwise. My other concubines avoided my gaze, as if awed by my mere presence, even our new arrival, Aclla.

Necahual and Eztli had retreated into another room, both to protect the latter from the sun and to give the former an opportunity to lay the groundwork for the soul transfer ritual. I knew our quarters were carefully watched, but I trusted my favorite to provide her daughter with the necessary information in a subtle enough manner.

As for Nenetl…

My sister was smiling at me with cheeks so scarlet they looked like tomatoes on her pale face. She fidgeted in place, her fingers joined, her breath short, and her eyes fluttering with excitation.

She looked happy. Blissfully, sincerely happy. She blushed when she looked at me, clearly dying to tell me what she thought would lift my spirits beyond words.

This broke my heart, because I knew exactly what she was about to tell me.

I had to make this private. Turning it into a public scene would destroy Nenetl once the truth came out… if the truth came out. I was still afraid that it might destroy her.

“Is there something you wish to tell me, Nenetl?” I asked.

“Yes,” she said with excitement. “You’re going to love it.”

I suppressed a surge of disgust boiling up inside my throat, then forced myself to smile. “Very well,” I said before turning to my other consorts. “Ingrid, Chikal.”

“Yes, my lord?” Ingrid replied, her back straightening up.

“Our war will be waged not only on the field of battle, but the people’s hearts and minds. I want you to work with our new Sapa advisor–” I waved a hand at Aclla, “–to prepare a campaign that will both embolden our soldiers and intimidate our enemies.”

Aclla bowed before me. “I shall endeavor to advise your divine consorts wisely, Your Majesty.”

“Yes, you shall,” I replied. Involving Aclla was a test on my part. I had yet to ascertain whether she was a mole intended to sabotage me or a spy tasked with furthering her master’s interests by weakening his rivals to the Sapa throne. Her actions should soon dispel any doubt.

“An interesting approach,” Chikal commented. “From my experience, the more spectacular or outrageous an event, the more it shall stay in people’s minds in the long term.”

“Quite so,” Ingrid agreed with a sly smile. “We can think of a few ways to bolster my lord’s standing among his friends and foes.”

“I cannot wait to hear of it,” I replied before bracing myself for a difficult time. “Nenetl, if you would follow me.”

I invited my lost sister into my personal quarters, then had us served soothing chocolate drinks and closed the curtain separating us from the rest of the complex. I immediately felt uneasy as we sat around a small table near my bed; the very same one in which we snuck in to make love to each other not too long ago.

Those moments had been such good memories, and now I couldn’t look back on them without feeling sick.

“So…” Nenetl put back her hair, a streak of red spreading across her face. “My breasts felt a bit strange yesterday, and I was more hungry than usual, which felt very strange to me… since you know I don’t eat much…”

I clenched my jaw while trying to hide my sorrow.

“I thought it might be some sign of a sickness, so I asked Lahun to check on my future.” Nenetl giggled to herself, her lips beaming into a smile. “Guess what she told me?”

I shifted uneasily in my seat. I had fought horrors and faced gods without flinching, yet I dreaded the truth ahead of me.

“You are…” I took a long deep breath.“Pregnant?”

“Yes!” Nenetl beamed like the morning sun. “We’re going to have a baby, Iztac, all of our own! Isn’t that wonderful?”

Such words would have inspired great joy in me before, and now they tasted foul in my mouth.

I had so dearly hoped against all odds that Iztacoatl and the Jaguar Woman would be lying about this; that it was just another fear for her to torment me with. I had known better though. I’d never been that lucky.

“Iztac?” Nenetl’s smile faded away upon seeing my face. “Iztac, why… why aren’t you smiling?”

For a moment that seemed to stretch on forever, I hesitated.

The awful truth remained stuck in my throat. Nenetl looked so happy, so glad that our love had blossomed into a fruit of our union, that I knew the truth would devastate her. She had opened her heart to me out of love, and now I would have to break it.

I cared for her as much as I cared for Eztli, and the thought of inflicting such pain on her felt almost unbearable.

Worse, my blood stirred too when I looked at Nenetl. Though my mind now knew the true nature of our relationship, my flesh had mingled with her own in a union as deep as it had been pleasurable. I craved the taste of her skin on my lips and the simple bliss of our love.

I still desired her, as much as she desired me.

The Jaguar Woman had a point. I was an emperor above men’s laws. The worst had already happened, so what would it cost me to keep the truth to myself and carry on like nothing happened? The truth wouldn’t make Nenetl happy, and I could always close my eyes and lie to myself that everything would be fine…

“Iztac?” she repeated, my silence unsettling her. “Iztac, what’s going on?”

Although the look on Nenetl’s face broke my heart, I forced myself to soldier on. Lying would be the coward’s way out.

I was sure Mother thought along the same lines.

It was so easy to sweep our mistakes under the rug in order to avoid tears and unfortunate conversations. My entire empire ran on such lies, and its debt to the truth would one day be paid in blood. It was in the nature of things for illusions to collapse under their own fragile weight.

Part of me knew that Nenetl would inevitably learn her true heritage either by accident or because of a vampire’s malice. How would she react once she realized I had known from the beginning and said nothing? Could our fragile bond of trust survive this? I didn’t think so, and I valued Nenetl too much to risk it.

I loved her enough to be truthful, even if it was bound to hurt us both.

“There is something I must tell you, Nenetl,” I said with a heavy sigh. “Something that you won’t like in the slightest.”

Her eyes widened in horror. “About our child?”

“Yes,” I confirmed. Nenetl was too clever not to see the dark clouds on the horizon. “And about us.”

“Us?” Nenetl bit her lips. “Iztac, what’s going on?”

“We’re…” I gathered my breath as I tried to find a way to break the news as gently as I could. “We are related by blood.”

“We’re–” Nenetl blinked in surprise and confusion. “W-what?”

“The goddesses told me the secret of your birth,” I explained, my fingers gripping the cup with all my strength. “My mother was pregnant before… before she left my father and I.”

“What does it have to do with…” I saw her blush and happiness slowly fade away like snow in the sunlight, replaced with pallid horror as the awful reality finally hit her. “With… us?”

“Everything.” I would have given up so much to ensure that this conversation never had to take place. “Our mother abandoned you to the red-eyed priests, who then… who then raised you.”

Nenetl didn’t say a word, but I could see the pain in her blue eyes. It hurt like a dagger to the heart. When Iztacoatl told me the truth, I must have looked exactly the same, with my mind trying to deny what my heart and gut knew were true.

“We are… we are siblings,” I finally said, my fingers clenching my chocolate cup. “I’m your older brother by less than a year.”

“That’s…” Nenetl shivered in place, her eyes staring at her chocolate cup to avoid my gaze. “Are you… how can you be sure?”

“I’ve heard it from the goddesses themselves. They had nothing to gain from lying to me on that front.” And Iztacoatl had taken great pleasure in humiliating us. “Lahun’s prophecies attest to it in their own way, and our physical resemblance is uncanny too. Too many elements point in that direction.”

“That… that could just be our curse, or…” Nenetl covered her mouth, her mind struggling to accept the truth the same way I did. “It can’t be… it can’t…”

Liquid accumulated at the edge of her eyes and her breath grew short. Nenetl was a kind girl who trusted me utterly. She knew I wouldn’t lie about such things, which only worsened the pain.

“I’m… I don’t know what to say, Iztac…” She sobbed, her eyes filled with tears. “I’m… I’m so happy I have a family… but…” She began to cry out. “But the rest… by the gods…”

“Nenetl.” I put my hands on her own. Her fingers had grown warm from prolonged contact with her steaming cup, yet they had never felt frailer. “None of it was our fault. Neither of us knew.”

“It’s just…” Nenelt possessed a great strength of character born of her kind heart, but she couldn’t contain her tears. “It’s so… so much at once…”

I moved to hug her.

I did not hesitate and encountered no resistance. My arms wrapped up around her waist and pulled her against my chest in an intimate embrace. Holding her felt deeply uncomfortable after everything we had done, as I felt her warmth through her dress and her smell in my nose; the same way I did when we lay together.

I powered through my unease for my… for my sister's sake. She gripped me so tightly, so desperate for comfort, that I could do nothing other than let her cry into my shoulder.

“I’m sorry…” Nenetl apologized while sobbing. I sensed moist liquid drip on my imperial robes and skin. “The tears won’t stop flowing…”

“It’s alright,” I reassured her while kindly stroking her hair. “I’m here for you.”

“Is it wrong to say that I’m… that I’m partly relieved about this?” Nenetl whispered back. “I thought I was alone in the world, abandoned because of my… because of our appearance…”

“If our father had known you existed, then he would have loved you with all his heart,” I whispered in her ear. And he did. “I can promise you that.”

It was meager comfort, but comfort nonetheless; and though Nenetl had confirmation that our mother did abandon her, my words at least helped soothe her heart. She did have a family that cared about her.

I calmly waited for Nenetl to calm down while holding her tightly. Her tears eventually stopped pouring out and she regained her breathing. Her hands gripped my shoulders next as an uncomfortable silence stretched between us.

I already knew what she was about to say.

“Is it so wrong?” Nenetl whispered, so low I barely heard it.

We were so alike, she and I.

“I never… I never had a brother, so it…” Nenetl took a deep breath and tightened her grip on my shoulders. “It doesn’t matter to me.”

A thrill coursed through my skin when she touched me. She still desired me as much as I craved her company, and I couldn’t blame her for her reaction. I was the only boy her age she ever interacted with who wasn’t a vampire or an eunuch, her first love and likely the only one should we fail to overthrow the Nightlords.

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She was, to put it bluntly, desperate and short on options.

Unfortunately for us, there was a wall I couldn’t climb.

“But it matters to you, doesn’t it?” Nenetl whispered in my ear after I failed to answer. “You can’t look at me without feeling betrayed and used.”

“I’m sorry,” I apologized. She understood me all too well.

Maybe under different circumstances, I could have closed my eyes, I suppose; but whenever Nenetl held me in her arms, all I could hear was Iztacoatl’s malevolent laughter ringing in my head. Every caress summoned that awful shame of having been played for a vampire’s amusement and the ominous warning of Lahun’s prophecy. They had set our love up like a play on a stage and then poisoned whatever joy I could draw from it.

I would never forgive the Nightlords for this humiliation. They had let us build up a pure relationship founded not on power or alliances but trust and love, then twisted it into something foul and diseased.

“I… I understand.” Nenetl released her hold on me and wiped tears from her bloodshot eyes. “It was just another way for them to hurt you, wasn’t it? They turned us into a joke for them to laugh at.”

“I still love you, and I always will,” I reassured her. My protective feelings towards Nenetl remained as strong as ever, doubly so now that I knew we were family. “I just… can’t touch you that way again.”

Nenetl gave me the saddest glance I’d ever seen, then rubbed her stomach with her hands. What should have been our most joyful moment had now become yet another horror.

“So our child is…” Nenetl gulped and suppressed a sob. “Is it going to be a monster? An abomination? They say the children born of incest are cursed, and we… we already are.”

“I don’t know how our child will turn out.” Lahun’s prophecy was quite clear on that, and I had no idea what an incestuous union between Nahualli would produce. I suspected it would be nothing good. “I don’t know. The goddesses certainly have plans for them.”

And knowing the Nightlords, they couldn’t be good.

“If the goddesses wanted it to happen, then maybe… maybe it won’t be that bad?” Nenetl asked, eager for reassurance that some good would come out of our union. “Maybe our child will have a… a great destiny?”

“They will,” I replied with a sigh. “As a future emperor, consort, or sacrifice.”

Nenetl’s expression darkened even further, much to my dismay. I wished I could have lied and told her that the seed of incest growing inside her would have no consequence, yet part of me knew otherwise. The Nightlords had arranged our coupling because they hoped to refine our bloodline for their sick breeding project and other purposes. Our child might be important to their plans, or simply serve as fuel for their twisted rituals.

I wasn’t even sure if we should let it be born at all.

I kept that thought to myself. Not only would the Nightlords retaliate should I voice it out loud, but Nenetl had already gone through enough for the day. That subject could wait for another time once she had time to digest everything else first.

Nenetl nodded to herself slowly, her expression resolute. I now saw a new determination in those blue eyes we shared. She wouldn’t let her own flesh become a tool in the Nightlord’s plans.

“You’re strong, Nenetl,” I said with the utmost sincerity. I didn’t think many people would have kept their dignity after such news; in a way, she took it much better than I did myself.

“Thank you, Iztac.” Nenetl forced herself to smile. “You know, I… I always wondered how it would be to have a brother. I just never thought that it…” She chuckled nervously, though there was no joy to it. “That it would happen this way.”

“I’m sorry.” I was about to tell her that Eztli had been like a sister to me once, before realizing that I shouldn’t mention that at all; especially not in the current circumstances. “We can still play board games whenever you want.”

“I… I would like that.” Nenetl nodded to herself. “It would help me… help me think things through.”

The same went for me.

We ended up setting up a tumi game a few minutes later. I asked Nenetl if she already had the opportunity to try playing one with Aclla, and to my utter lack of surprise, she answered yes.

“She let me win,” Nenetl said as we put the pieces on the board. “I think she thinks I’ll be angry with her if I lose.”

“Or she is gauging you,” I replied. I suspected both Nenetl and I were correct. It would make sense for Aclla to play it safe and assess our personalities like any talented diplomat, but her mask was bound to slip eventually.

“Maybe,” Nenetl said before changing the subject. “How was he?”

“Whom?”

“Yo-our father.” Nenetl stared at her pieces for a moment before asking for more details. “How was he?”

“He was the kindest person in the world,” I said as I made the first move. “And so very much like you.”

We ended up playing until late in the afternoon.

I won a few times, which was exceptional enough to be mentioned. Nenetl never lost a board game when she tried. I took it as a sign of how much distress the truth put her through. Once Nenetl grew tired of playing, she asked me if she could have the bathroom for herself for a time; a demand I graciously granted.

Warm waters would help her clear her mind. She definitely needed some alone time with her thoughts.

I still wasn’t sure if I had made the right decision, though I felt like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Whatever our relationship would become, at least it would be based on truth rather than lies and omissions. It would make for sturdier foundations.

Afterward, I remained alone in my room and summoned my next visitor. “Come in.”

Lahun walked into my bedroom with grace and swiftly bowed before me. “You’ve called for me, Your Majesty?”

I immediately noticed that she carried her fortune-telling tools, from her bowl to her pouch full of corn. She had already foreseen what I’d called her for. Her wisdom and insight surprised me once again.

“I have,” I replied before inviting her to sit down at my table. “I would like you to read my future for the second time.”

“I suspected as much.” Lahun sat and immediately took my hand into her own to read my palm lines. “I would usually tell Your Majesty that a second prophecy never differs from the first, but such bindings only apply to ordinary men.”

“And you would be right.”

“I know,” Lahun replied calmly. “I have checked.”

“Oh?” This caught my interest. Could she tell that I had changed in clear and imperceptible ways since last night? “How so?”

“I consult fate each morning to assess which weather the heavens will grace us with during the day,” Lahun explained to me. “When Your Majesty declared that the heavens would bless Zachilaa for their hospitality, I decided to check my previsions in case his words had altered them.”

My head perked up in interest. “Did they?”

Lahun nodded sharply. “My first consultation indicated that the sun would shine all day, while the second predicted the rainfall.”

Her observation, on the surface, seemed utterly inconsequential. Of course her prediction would have been affected by the Word I cast. However, the timing provided key information I could not ignore.

If Lahun ran her prediction after I promised Zachilaa’s nobility a bounty from the heavens, then fate had changed before I cast the Word. I’d chained myself with ropes thicker than any material.

Belief.

While it came out of frustration, the reason why my magic took the form of a Word that called the rain was because I had announced publicly that Zachilaa would receive a blessing from the skies. By promising a reward to this city, I’d bound myself to fulfilling my own prophecy. I had shaped my own fate, but in doing so, condemned myself to follow it by forming a covenant with Yohuachanca’s citizens.

The implications sent a chill down my spine. Father was right, the words of the powerful were never inconsequential. I had to be extremely careful with what I said from now on in public.

“I noticed that my weather predictions had grown more accurate since Your Majesty showered me with his trust and confidence,” Lahun carried on. “I am now convinced that I could assist Your Majesty in foreseeing the heavens’ whims in a way that will serve him well during his war.”

True, being able to predict—nay, decide—the weather would indeed provide a terrific advantage in battle. Necahual's instincts proved right once again. Lahun's wisdom, initiative, and keen intellect would make her a fearsome witch. I found all of these qualities rather appealing.

“I have the utmost faith in your abilities, Lahun, and I hope I can continue to rely on them,” I said with the utmost sincerity. “I believe much of your prophecy has already happened.”

Lahun gave me a pointed look. “Did knowing your fate bring Your Majesty happiness?”

“Joy and sorrow both.” Besides the incident with Nenetl, I was quite happy with the fact that the ‘murder in the family’ and ‘betrayal with a friend's face’ parts ended relatively well. “I would rather know and be prepared than surprised.”

“I see.” Lahun nodded to herself. My answer pleased her, likely because she thought along the same lines. “May I ask why you have summoned me now of all times, however?”

“The gods have visited and graced me in my sleep, though the purpose of their message remains elusive to me.”

I caught a glint of curiosity in Lahun’s eyes. The opportunity to translate a message from the gods appealed to her. “I will do my best to help you interpret the signs then.”

She continued to read my lifelines and my blood stirred as I felt her soft fingers rub on my skin. I immediately saw the surprise in her eyes the moment she felt my unnatural warmth, followed by puzzled fascination the more time she spent examining my fate.

“How could it be?” Lahun muttered to herself. “Was Your Majesty struck by lightning without my knowledge?”

“In a dream.” I ought to learn how to read lifelines too. If Lahun could learn that much from a cursory glimpse, then what else could I gather from others? “I was struck by lightning under a blue sun sky.”

“Fascinating… lightning and rainfall are usually a manifestation of Tlaloc, lord of storms, but I’ve never heard of him sending messages in dreams.” Lahun gripped my palm with undisguised amazement and curiosity. “Your lifelines have become so much more vibrant since I last examined you, Your Majesty. I’ve never seen anything like this before…”

“And never will you,” I replied confidently. Considering I’d purchased her loyalty with displays of supernatural power, I should lay on it thickly. “I am power the likes of which mere mortals can only hope to prostrate themselves to.”

Lahun seemed a bit amused. “I witnessed Your Majesty’s sparks at last night’s wedding.”

“Have you?” I smiled in amusement, then grabbed my obsidian knife and cut a finger open. Lahun’s eyes widened in astonishment as a purple flame far brighter than last night’s display erupted from it. She did not let go of my hand though. She basked in the flame’s glow and warmth until my wound closed on its own. “As you can see, the heavens have delivered more blessings upon my person.”

“Your Majesty’s lifelines shine brighter than any mortal,” Lahun concluded. “But the brightest light invites the darkest shadows. I see that you stand on the twilight’s threshold between day and night; between light and darkness.”

Between Iztac the liberator and Cizin the destroyer, I guessed as Lahun proceeded with other rituals, throwing corn grains that ended in tight piles and a few circles, observing how they floated or sank in her bowl of water, then asked me to gaze into my own reflection.

“There are more corn piles than circles this time,” I noted upon recalling our first session. “I believe you mentioned that they represented a strong lifeforce?”

“Your Majesty’s memory does not fail him. While he used to dance on the edge between life and death, the latter has slightly retreated without surrendering its chase.” Lahun nodded to herself. “Your Tonalli has been strengthened further too, although your reflection’s shadows are starker as well. As your Majesty gains power, so does the darkness within him.”

“You said I stood in the twilight?” I asked with a frown. “So I still have a choice.”

“For now,” Lahun replied. Which implied that past a certain point, that decision would be final.

I blew into Lahun’s conch shell next to measure my Ihiyotl. The song that came out of it was stronger than last time, and loud like a war horn. Lahun nodded to herself and then proceeded to match my birthdate with the stars’ position last night and sacred numbers. Lahun’s calculations still escaped me, but the numbers nine and thirteen—those that represented the Underworld and the Thirteen Heavens—came up more than they did last time.

“Betrayal with a friend’s face, snake shedding skin,” Lahun recounted with a scowl on her face after she finished drawing her calculations. “Forbidden unions beget abominations. War of the puppeteers burns the stage. Battle of the three wings. Golden city answers the tide of sorrow. To the banquet of blood the dark one triumphs. New skull on the pile weeps in night eternal.”

My jaw clenched in disappointment. “The prophecy hasn’t changed in the slightest.”

“It has not,” Lahun replied with a deep scowl. She seemed as surprised as I was. “Only what has already come to pass has vanished.”

Her words sent chills down my spine. Betrayal with a friend’s face was still on the list, despite my assumptions, as was the forbidden union bit. The latter could be explained by the fact my child with Nenetl wasn’t born yet, but the former…

“The fact the readings changed alone is unheard of, Your Majesty, whether from me or any seer I’ve encountered,” Lahun replied while pondering her observations. “I have an explanation for the prophecy’s resilience.”

“Which one?” I inquired.

“I warned Your Majesty that the signs do not change and are never wrong,” Lahun said. “However, a sentence may mean many different things depending on its interpretation. Take ‘to the banquet of blood the dark one triumphs,’ for example. The ‘dark one’ could refer to an enemy, a vampire, or even yourself… and though the role remains undisturbed, a different actor may wear the mask.”

“You suggest that their identity could change depending on circumstances?” I asked, my eyes alight with interest. “That I could become the dark one the prophecy refers to, even when it wasn’t refering to me when you first wrote it down?”

“I believe so,” Lahun confirmed. “The play’s meaning and conclusion may change depending on who inherits the role. I suspect that the different changes I observed imply that the prophecy’s spirit has changed, even if the letter has not.”

I pondered her words in silence. Come to think of it, ‘betrayal with a friend’s face’ formed a sentence with the ‘snake shedding skin’ part, which implied both were related. Could it refer to my plan for Iztacoatl and Fjor instead of a plot targeted at me? Mother had suggested that I launch my plan only after obtaining Tlaloc’s embers. Had this influx of power been enough to alter fate in my favor?

The last line of the prophecy bothered me most. I would love it if the new skull on the pile referred to a Nightlord suffering after my victory, but ‘night eternal’ was an unambiguous calamity. Unless it meant the skull would be buried forever somewhere… What if it referred to my father joining the Parliament…

I wished prophecies could be straightforward and unambiguous. The best I could do for now was to hope that my newfound might would ensure a good surprise came to pass.

Lahun observed my hand for a while, paying particular attention to my previously cut finger. I allowed her to grab it again, a thrilling sensation coursing through my hand when she caressed it.

“If I may, Your Majesty, I can think of a way to clarify the prophecy further,” Lahun proposed. “Observing your palm alone may be insufficient to truly assess your lifelines.”

“Would you rather feel my lifeforce more closely?” I guessed, a smile stretching on my lips when Lahun acquiesced with a smile.

Lahun wished to use Seidr to obtain helpful visions related to the prophecy, and who was I to deny her? I hadn’t yet tested how my new set of embers had strengthened the spell, and it would allow me to give her some information I couldn’t exactly vocalize out loud.

Moreover, I welcomed the distraction after my charged moment with Nenetl. My sister’s smell still lingered on me, and I craved the taste of female flesh.

I began by pulling Lahun to me and embracing her in a ferocious kiss. Her tongue danced with mine with serpentine deftness. I could taste her raw desire for the power within me and the magic she sought to master. Witnessing my sorcery aroused her like violence awakened Chikal’s hunger.

— NSFW scene starts

My fingers moved to remove her robes, and hers hastily did the same with mine. She had been quite clumsy during our first lovemaking sessions, but she had grown more confident since. She knew what she wanted.

My hands swiftly began to tease her soft breasts. Her moans of pleasure quickened my pulse, as did the feeling of her naked chest and hips pressing against mine. It helped me forget the discomfort of Nenetl crying on my shoulder.

Seidr only demanded an exchange of fluids, but I decided to savor the moment and make the experience pleasurable for Lahun. I teased her by tenderly nipping her ear and caressing her back, delighting in her whimpers whenever my warm fingers touched her. She moaned as she rubbed against my abs.

I carried her to bed, laid her on the side, then began to caress her soft legs. I moved behind Lahun, one arm around her breasts, the other slipping between her thighs to pleasure her with my fingers.

“Your Majesty…” She moaned as I kissed her on the neck. “No need for… such elaborate…”

“You have served me well, Lahun, and deserve a reward,” I purred while lining my manhood with her ass. “You will find your fealty to me a most pleasant experience.”

Lahun let out a soft sound of surprise as I penetrated her from behind, my manhood slipping within her with my fingers continuing to play with her on the other side. I pressed my lips against her in a ferocious kiss even as I pushed. She was tight, and her breathing was so incredibly quick.

I drowned myself in her, all to better take my mind away from my sister and all this sorrow.

I broke the kiss just long enough to let her moan as I settled on a steady pace, her sweat slipping between my fingers. I sank into her and wrapped my arms around her to pull her closer. Whereas Nenetl had smelled of salt and perfume, Lahun carried the scent of corn, mushrooms, and the herbs she used for her divinations.

“Would you like to serve me like this each time you visit me?” I asked in between kisses, her body jolting with pleasure.

“Yes…” she whispered back with a sigh of pleasure. “I will serve Your Majesty as he wishes.”

“Yes, you will.” My hand moved from her breast to her belly. “Our contract you have fulfilled, and so shall I do my part.”

I had grown so acutely aware of sensing another’s Teyolia that I could sense the ember inside Lahun; a presence that filled me with pride.

Lahun’s head snapped in my direction, her eyes alight with excitement. “Will Your Majesty–”

“Soon,” I promised in her ear. “If you have the stomach for it.”

I intended to put Lahun through the Mometzcopinque ritual as soon as the conditions would allow it; but to ensure she wouldn’t walk away, I would give her a brief glimpse of what she could expect.

I softly pulled back from her ass and then put her on her back. We locked eyes as I spread her legs, her hands clutching my chest in anticipation. I pulled my fingers out of her, gently grabbed her hips, and lined myself up. I slid inside her without encountering any resistance, her flesh so fluid and welcoming that it felt like honey.

Then lightning coursed through me.

Our Teyolias aligned in an instant, but where my heartfire had been a flickering shadow of a god’s radiance once, it now burned with a wild brazier’s glow. Lahun gasped in pleasure and surprise as my essence gobbled her up like a torch thrown into a bonfire. Each roll of her hips sent jolts of electricity coursing through my muscles.

She was entirely within my power. The frontier between our souls might as well not exist.

I could have snuffed out her existence in an instant had I wished it, but I simply gripped her thighs and pushed. Lahun obliged me, her soft hands clenched against my back as I took her ferociously.

And as I did, memories of mine flowed through our bond. I shared visions of Necahual’s ascension with Lahun. I showed her in vivid detail how I had dismembered and reshaped her into a witch of my own creation, holding back none of the pain and agony required for the process to work. Power required sacrifice, after all.

I didn’t hide the rewards either. I showed her a vision of Necahual’s ebon wings, of the flame bursting out of her hand and the lightning coursing between her fingers. Lahun’s lips clenched immediately, her entire body shivering in excitement and anticipation.

“Are you willing?” I whispered in her ear. “Would you give me your soul for my gifts?”

“Yes,” Lahun replied without hesitation. The thought of wielding magic, of mastering the fire and lightning she had been forced to beg the sky for time and time again was too sweet of an offer. “I would do… anything.”

Her passion for magic was inspiring, as was her dedication.

I banished those memories aside and focused on her prophecy. As I suspected, gaining Tlaloc’s embers had strengthened the spell. The visions sharpened with each kiss and pounding.

— NSFW Scene ends

When Lahun’s arms and legs coiled around me to tighten our embrace, our minds expanded beyond the reaches of consciousness. We found ourselves in a temple of gold with walls and pillars gleaming like the morning sun in the light of flickering torches. A great bridge stood high above a river of molten gold flowing deep underground. Unbearable heat suffused the air, though it paled when compared to the warmth of my own Teyolia. Our spirits wandered inside a tabernacle attended by masked men with golden masks. There, in a vast chamber, rested a jeweled sarcophagus carved in the image of a sleeping condor with its wings folded. A skeletal, mummified figure watched over it; one whom I immediately recognized.

Inkarri.

My foremost enemy among the Sapa and his masked cohorts prayed around that strange tomb. I felt a great power stir within the sarcophagus; a will that seemed both distant and familiar. The shadow walking in my step darkened in recognition, but its darkness couldn’t touch the glow coming from the sarcophagus.

Then there was light.

I awoke back to reality as my muscles strained and my loins ached with release. Lahun let out a cry as my manhood throbbed and erupted within her. My seed let out a smell of burnt embers and fumes in their wake, but the thought of stopping and pulling out didn’t even cross my mind. My body tensed like hard metal until I finished.

“Are you…” I let out a heavy breath. I was satisfied, but I had no idea how it felt to Lahun. “Alright?”

“Alright, Your Majesty?” Lahun let out a chuckle of pleasure, her legs and arms falling to my side in blissful limpness. “It felt amazing…”

Good. I smiled in pleasure as I lay on top of Lahun and basked in the soft contentment of our union. It had been both enjoyable and productive.

Golden city answers the tide of sorrow. I’d been wondering what Inkarri had been up to since our last confrontation in the Underworld, and received a glimpse of his plan. Whatever he had in mind, it involved a powerful spell; a ritual involving an ancient tomb hidden somewhere, likely in the Sapa homeland.

From the vision and various elements, I had a pretty good idea of whom rested within that sarcophagus. I pondered its implications.

“Did it help you?” I asked Lahun after I pulled out from between her thighs. They had grown slightly redder from the warmth of my seed in them, though she thankfully hadn’t suffered any burns. “Did it improve your prophecy?”

“I would need to ascertain,” Lahun replied softly as she pulled back her hair and wiped off the sweat from her brow. Her eyes thoughtfully stared at the ceiling. “Wings…”

I raised an eyebrow. “Wings?”

“Owl wings, bat wings,” she muttered to herself. “Three is not four.”

“Are you speaking of the war of the three wings mentioned in the prophecy?” I asked, my eyes squinting. I had the feeling Lahun wasn’t simply speaking her thoughts out loud.

“I apologize, Your Majesty.” Lahun gave me a pointed, knowing look. “I simply find the number strange now that I think of it. Three means imbalance while four implies balance, the way four women have always assisted an emperor since the rise of your empire.”

She was trying to tell me something important, a detail she couldn’t vocalize out loud for fear of being overheard.

I pondered her words. Owl wings… was she talking about Necahual? If so, then I assumed bat wings referred to the Nightlords, doubly so since she mentioned the number four.

Four women have assisted each emperor since Yohuachanca’s birth… My eyes widened slowly, an idea forming in my mind. Four consorts… or four witches.

Mother insisted that I bind four Mometzcopinques to me, no more and no less; one for each sun ember collected. A path which the First Emperor saw through.

Iztacoatl had said that two Nahualli being born from the same bloodline was unheard of, but the Nightlords were all siblings and daughters of the First Emperor. Each of them had exhibited a totem of their own which differed from their father’s bat. The Jaguar Woman lived up to her name, Iztacoatl’s soul bore scales, and Sugey wore feathers. Even the late Yoloxochitl’s true form was that of a putrid flower.

Yet none of them showed the physical signs of being a Nahualli. Neither their eyes nor hair were pale in the slightest. I’d assumed they’d simply changed their appearance with magic, but now that I was thinking about it…

The Nightlords could all fly on batlike wings.

My Necahual had inherited my feathers through the Mometzcopinque ritual, even though I knew for sure that she housed no owl totem within her soul. She wielded magic not through being born with it, but by my leave; the same way my captors drained their dread father of his power to strengthen their own.

Which begged an important question.

Were the Nightlords Nahualli at all?

Could they be Mometzcopinques instead?

And if they are, I thought, my gaze lingering on Lahun. What does that mean for us?

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