Ahuatl’s Journey

Ahuatl knew he was in trouble. He had journeyed far, maybe too far, from his village, which as his father regularly reminded him, was in an already isolated position when compared to other Aztec settlements in the general area. Of the six neighboring communities, their village was the closest one to the edge of the dark rainforest which stood at the heart of their shared valley.

How deep the forest actually was, Ahuatl didn’t know, but he had been warned time and time again not to venture into it. Even in times of emergency.

The forest was rumored to be home to demons and the undead, spirits of both the Everliving and the Everchanging. Creatures of the night who hunted humans, and especially children, for the simple joy of hearing their screams. This, and more warnings, he and the other children in his village had been told over and over again. Yet here he was, deep within the forest. And now, perhaps, deep in trouble as well.

In many ways, the scene before him was more horrifying than any of the terrifying stories he had heard around his village. Why could he not control his longing for the forest, and especially for the ruined temple which was rumored to sit within the forest? 

Ahuatl had always felt a strong, even primal, need to discover the great temple city rumored to have structures tall enough to rise above the forest. He knew such curiosity was one of the reasons the village elders worked so diligently to scare the children off from the temptation to venture into the forest.

But even as a small child, Ahuatl would sneak right up to the edge of the forest. There he would find the tallest tree, and climb up as far as he could. On a non-mist-covered day, he would sometimes get lucky and catch a glimpse of what he thought was a stone statue peeking out over the forest canopy. He could never be sure if those fleeting glimpses were real or just made up by his longing imagination. But even if he could not confirm with his eyes what he thought he saw, his soul assured him that what he had seen was the Mighty Temple of the Heart: A long-forgotten and maybe imaginary temple at the heart of a mysterious and likely, fictitious city.

Why exactly had The Temple of the Heart (if it did exist) become a place shrouded in such mystery and fear, he did not know. Not till this very moment at least.

The open field he could see from his hiding spot behind the ceiba tree stretched out in front of him into an open expanse of rock and sand, and stopped abruptly at the foot of the largest building Ahuatl had ever seen. The giant structure could have easily housed dozens of his villages. The building was made of black stone. It rose high into the sky. It had several levels, one on top of the other. He had never been to the sacred city of Tenochtitlan, but The Temple of the Heart (and he was sure that the building he looked at was indeed the temple of lore) looked as imposing as any of the buildings he had heard his father speak of after his return from one of his yearly pilgrimages to the holy city.

Here in front of his eyes was what he had dreamt of for so long. Yet the temple was also the very real physical manifestation of his worst nightmares. What he could also see, in addition to the building itself, was a crowd of men, women and children standing by the hundreds, being spoken to by a man who stood on the first level of the temple building. From what the man wore (a large feathered head-dress and wildly colorful garb, much more colorful than any garb he had ever seen on even the village leader) Ahuatl was sure the man was an Aztec High Priest; one of the fabled sorcerers who, if the stories were true, could command even the dead, and wield powerful magics that could bring death and destruction to entire cities!

Ahuatl could feel his heart pounding in his chest. He tried to calm himself. He tried slowing his breathing. He was afraid that his heart was pounding so loudly that it could be heard by someone in the crowd. Or even the High Priest! Even from this far a distance. He knew he was being overly paranoid.

He didn’t want to risk capture, he wanted to turn around and run back to his village so he could tell everyone of his discovery. He knew he had to do so now if he wanted to get back before nightfall. It was already getting close to midday, and he had spent half the day just getting to this point. ‘Leave now or risk being in the forest at night’ he thought to himself.

 He was about to unglue himself from the Ceiba tree, which he had been clinging on to with white knuckle intensity, when the High Priest stopped what he was doing, and climbed a few steps up to the temple’s second level. When he got there, he slowly turned, raising his right hand. A hand which pointed straight and true to the Ceiba tree that Ahuatl was using as his hiding spot.

 Ahuatl froze. He was overcome with dread. Despite it being a typically hot summer day, he suddenly felt a deep, deep cold come over him. When he finally let out his breath, which he had been holding for what felt like an hour, he saw the air from his lungs rush out into frigid air. He could see his breath wisp up towards the tree canopy high above. As he looked up, following his rising breath, his view of it was suddenly cut short. There in front of him, looking down straight into his eyes was the High Priest himself.

 Ahuatl’s mind could not process what his eyes were seeing. How could the High Priest be here, when he had just been on the steps that far away only a moment ago? He could not possibly have traversed such a long distance in mere seconds.

 But the fact that the High Priest had indeed closed the gap in space and time in an instant was soon confirmed, when that same High Priest spoke to him, “My child … Ahuatl I believe … you have come at last.” The priest stood straight and held out his hand for Ahuatl to grab. The High Priest was firm in his manner but did not frighten him. “Ahuatl” he said again,“I have called to you many times my child, and you have finally come. The Children can now be made whole with your help.”

 “What children?” Ahuatl asked, even before he knew he had intended to speak, “are there others like me here? Other children from my village?”

 The High Priest smiled at him, and that smile froze Ahuatl’s heart. The High Priest’s mouth, full of needle-sharp teeth, was clearly covered in fresh blood. “No young man” said the High Priest,

“The Children I speak of, are all of us. You, me, your entire village and every village and city in all of existence. We are all the Children of the gods. And today you have come to pay them the respect they are due. Come with me, let me help you meet the gods themselves. You see, your help is needed in the eternal battle for Balance. Come child. Walk with me.”

That comment surprised Ahuatl and he interrupted the High Priest, “Me? What could I do to help? “Ahuatl felt sudden pride, and continued “I am but a boy. What could I do, that would please the gods?”

 The High Priest looked down on him again. Not smiling this time, but with a gentle manner. He put his hands on Ahuatl’s shoulder and began to lead him towards the temple. “Ahuatl, you and many others; boys like you, men and women from villages far from here, and some even from the holy city itself will join in a large feast. You will eat maize, and feast on boar, fish and bird flesh, you will dance, you will celebrate the Everliving, the Everchanging, Mother Earth and even Cizin himself!”

Ahuatlt couldn’t believe this sudden turn of fortune. He would make sure everyone in the village heard of his exploits. He would show them all that they had nothing to fear from the forest. His bravery was being rewarded!

Before he realized it, the High Priest had stopped walking. They had both reached the foot of the great temple. It was then that Ahuatl had the opportunity to really look in more detail at the people he had seen from his hiding spot. They looked sleepy, almost as if they were

day-dreaming. None looked afraid. But something was not right. Ahuatl could not put his finger on what was wrong. But then the smell hit him. Its putridness struck his senses suddenly and overwhelming. How could he not have noticed it before? It was the smell of death. And then he heard the flies. There were so many, all buzzing around him, almost to the point where he felt that if he opened his mouth to speak, he would be drowned by them as they poured into him.

 Now Ahuatl felt afraid, realizing that the warnings had all been true. He wanted to cry, but held back his tears. He would not be found to be a coward, and bring dishonor to his father and his entire village, in front of the High Priest. “Then you are going to sacrifice me and make me like them?” said Ahuatl.

 The High Priest responded. “My child. Why would you say such a thing?! No, no, no. You are indeed going to join a feast.” Ahuatl looked confused. Why was the High Priest toying with him?

 “I have been calling to you through your dreams and desires, so that you may join us in adoration of the One and his pantheon.” The High Priest continued, “You will join us here at the Sacred Temple and we will see if you have what it takes to someday become a High Priest like myself.

 Ahuatl looked at him in disbelief, but before he could say anything in response, the High priest led him towards an open door, which until now, he had not noticed. He gently moved Ahuatl towards the open door, where two younger attendants were waiting for him.

 The High Priest spoke to him one final time “I was once like you. Now go and work hard. Your old life is over. Your new life begins. Train to become one of us. Train to help maintain the One’s Eternal Mandate for Balance. All of the Children will depend on you, and those like us, to keep the darkness at bay.”

 The Priest paused as if he had just remembered something, and then continued “do poorly my child… and become one of them.” Ahuatl didn’t need to turn around to see who the “them” were that the High priest was referring to. He had just been surrounded by a horde of “them”,

Tlalocan-bound dead, and he had no desire to ever join their ranks.

What would Ahuatl’s final fate be? No one knew for sure or would ever know. Only a select few of the Children could see that far into the future. And none would ever share what this young boy’s future would be. Not on that day anyway.

This is the way

Written by Nelson Martinez. Initial story by Eric Goldstein.