The palace’s temple reeked of blood and tar.
I had co to expect the forr from all the vampires’ creations, but the latter had co to surprise . From the Nightlords’ dark abode at the center of my palace to their secret altars, every place of significance to these parasites’ false religion included at least one pool of the black, viscous substance.
A moat’s worth of that filth filled the palace’s temple, surrounding a hill of ashes standing tall under a black do of obsidian. A large hole in the ceiling let the moon illuminate the room with its epheral light. Murals representing cosmic phenona, from the dance of constellations to the rise of an eclipsed sun, adorned the sturdy wall. Rows after rows of stone benches filled the hall, with no one to sit upon them.
The temple’s true masters looked down on from above. I felt their crimson eyes gaze upon the mont I stepped alone into this unhallowed sanctuary. I looked up to match their glares.
A flock of Nightkin hung upside down from the ceiling, their talons sinking into the obsidian to lock them in place, their jet-black wings furled like mantles of darkness. I could hardly distinguish their numbers in the darkness. Dozens, maybe hundreds of them? Whatever the case, a court full of vampires had gathered to witness this ceremony.
“Co, Iztac,” an oh-so-familiar voice called out to .
Yoloxochitl’s kindly whispers never failed to inspire dread.
I crossed a bridge of stone over the moat of tar and walked into the moonlight. Yoloxochitl awaited at the ashen hill’s bottom alongside Eztli. I couldn’t tell how I managed to keep a blank expression when I saw them.
Yoloxochitl had lowered her robes just enough to reveal her naked chest. Eztli knelt in front of the Nightlord, her fangs biting into her left breast and suckling her vampiric progenitor’s sick black blood.
The scene might have seed titillating to so, but not to . Eztli’s sharp fangs pierced through her mistress’ skin deep enough to reach the swelling veins below, yet not a single drop trickled down. My consort’s eyes were lost in an expression of ultimate pleasure and satiation. She didn’t even notice my presence. Her hands tightly gripped Yoloxochitl’s breast, squeezing it, holding on to it. The more Eztli tasted the Nightlord’s blood, the thirstier she beca. I almost thought she would chew out her flesh to make the process faster.
The thirst had overtaken her mind.
Yoloxochitl appeared to share in her brood’s pleasure too. She moaned and chuckled with each suction, her eyes closed, her tongue sticking out of her cursed mouth.
“Yes,” I heard her whisper, her hand gently caressing the back of Eztli’s head. “Yes, my daughter, feed on… If thou be thirsty, then drink…”
Another man might have found the scene arousing. I personally struggled not to vomit.
A lifeti ago, I had witnessed won breastfeeding their infant children on Acampa’s riverbank. The beautiful miracle of a mother nourishing the new life they had helped bring into this cruel world. The scene before my eyes was a mockery of this sacred human mont, a twisted reflection of reality cast on a cursed obsidian mirror. An ancient parasite feeding its ill-gotten blood to a stolen daughter. Necahual’s usurpation as a living mother, a reminder that Eztli’s life now belonged to another.
The fact I knew exactly how the Nightlord looked beneath her beautiful human mask only heightened my disgust.
“Mother Yoloxochitl,” I said, hoping reminding them of my presence would end this twisted union.
Thankfully, it did. Yoloxochitl smiled at sweetly, then gently shooed Eztli away from her breast. My friend and consort whined like an animal denied its al, but did not resist the Nightlord’s command. The bite marks she had left on Yoloxochitl’s breast closed instantaneously.
“Greet your husband properly, my daughter,” she commanded.
Sanity instantly returned to Eztli’s gaze. She blinked a few tis, as if awakening from a pleasurable dream, then noticed my presence at last. The blissful smile on her lips swiftly faded, a flash of sha crossing her dilated eyes.
“Iztac,” she said, black blood dripping down her chin. “Sorry for the ss.”
She doesn’t like seeing her like this, but vampires are compelled to obey their progenitor’s orders, I rembered to my own disgust. One night I shall free you.
“How does it feel?” I asked her, slightly afraid of the answer.
“Wonderful, Iztac. Like drinking the heavens themselves.” Eztli forced herself to smile for Yoloxochitl’s sake and licked the blackened blood on her face, consuming every last drop. “You should try it too.”
I know she only ant it to stay in the Nightlord’s good graces, but the very idea of sucking Yoloxochitl’s blood, of inviting any part of her into my body, repulsed to my core. I loathed the thought of that parasite strengthening her already unbearable hold over my soul and body.
Yoloxochitl smiled kindly at Eztli before covering her breasts with her robes. “He cannot,” she said before turning her attention to . “You cannot, Iztac.”
“Why is that?” I wondered while doing my best to hide my relief. Co to think of it, wouldn’t it have been easier for them to bind the way the Nightlords bound their red-eyed priests?
“Your blood must stay pure,” the Nightlord replied calmly. “My sisters and I share a bond with you deeper than any familial tie. However, our union requires balance. The north cannot encroach on the south, nor the west on the east.”
The truth beca clear to . Beneath all the esoterism, the Nightlords simply didn’t want either of them to gain more power over whatever ritual bound my soul to their altar. They had ruled so long by sharing power and not vying over it.
I was almost tempted to drink Yoloxochitl’s blood and sow chaos between the sisters, but a re glance at Eztli’s ecstatic, addled expression convinced otherwise. To partake in a vampire’s blood would an tightening my own chains.
“Moreover, while our blood would preserve you from ti’s sway, it would also wither your loins,” Yoloxochitl said. “Your divine blood must keep flowing, my son.”
As always, I was nothing more than a breeding turkey. I was almost tempted to ask Yoloxochitl what happened to the previous emperors’ sons, to lift the veil of that particular mystery from my mind.
No, not yet, I told myself. Patience. I needed to build more trust beforehand, lest I arouse suspicion.
“What of my blood?” I asked cautiously, hiding my malice behind a mask of generosity. The very thought of letting a vampire feed on disgusted , but the Parliant of Skulls promised that the fire in my veins would hurt them. “Would you partake in my blood if I offered it, Mother Yoloxochitl?”
Will you let my burning blood incinerate your veins from within? I thought. Will you bite my neck and partake in this poisoned al?
“You are very kind, my child, but I must refuse,” Yoloxochitl replied, albeit with a hint of reluctance. I caught a brief flash of thirst and desire when she stared at my neck. “I am forbidden to taste your blood until the Scarlet Moon. There are laws that even I must obey.”
I had expected that answer, and did not push the subject further. Even if she decided to feed on my blood—a prospect that frightened as much as I relished the thought of poisoning her—I lacked the strength to overpower her afterward. Feeding her my blood would weaken the Nightlord, but it would not destroy her.
I too would be patient. Yoloxochitl felt the thirst and fought back the hunger. She wanted to drink my blood, only holding herself back from fear of punishnt; and when there was a will, there was a way. Forbidden pleasures possessed an allure that made them difficult to resist, and Yoloxochitl had proved herself to be deeply impulsive; enough to upset her sisters’ plans and go against their will by claiming Eztli as a Nightkin. She lacked the Jaguar Woman’s self-control. She would give in if properly pushed.
The Parliant of Skulls asked to cultivate my relationship with Yoloxochitl until I could learn more about her fatal weapon. And I could go farther. I could lay the groundwork for her demise. Be the snake in the grass closing in for the fatal bite.
Vampirism had unbalanced Yoloxochitl’s mind and filled it with dark obsessions. Her madness followed a logic of its own. I had to play into it. To put a Veil on her deeper than any illusion, to slowly lower her ntal defenses until she finally gave in. A seduction of a sort.
“Now, my son, give your mother a kiss,” the Nightlord said.
I dutifully obeyed, my lips touching her cold, lifeless cheek. Think of victory, I told myself, blocking the horrific mories of vines and claws erupting from under that pristine skin. Everything is permitted in the pursuit of victory.
“How was your training today?” Yoloxochitl asked as if she cared.
“We were told you perford admirably,” Eztli mused with a mischievous, malicious smirk. “Much to our dear Chikal’s appreciation.”
“I have heard that your amazon consort proved…” A flash of anger passed in Yoloxochitl’s eyes. “Rough.”
“She is a harsh teacher, but a fair one,” I argued, hoping to spare Chikal a deadly visit. “No man has beco a great warrior from being coddled.”
“That is true, Iztac,” Yoloxochitl confird. “However, much like an eagle looks down upon turkeys struggling on the ground, an emperor stands above the petty indignities of battle. Your spear is an army, and your shield is a thousand protectors ready to die for you.”
“That may be so, Mother, but I rember you saying that our poor soldiers deserved comfort.” That was how she had justified trying to enslave Necahual not so long ago. “Seeing their emperor share their struggles will be like balm to their wounded hearts.”
“It is one thing to be bold, Iztac, and another to be wise,” Yoloxochitl declared with what could pass for wisdom. “Promise not to endanger yourself, child. It wounds to see you threatened.”
Then you should spare the altar. Her terrible actions spoke louder than her empty words. “I have no doubt your benediction shall grant victory,” I said, baiting her. “Though if I may ask… what is this great weapon that will turn the tide against the Sapa?”
“Patience, Iztac.” Yoloxochitl lightly stroked my cheek, as if to reprimand an overeager child. “Miracles must be seen, not heard. This flower shall bloom in due ti. An emperor’s duties to his subjects pale before those he owes the heavens, and for now, a greater task awaits you.”
I nodded dutifully, suppressing a flash of anger. The ti hadn’t co yet. “As Mother wishes.”
“Worry not, all your prayers shall eventually be answered.” Yoloxochitl waved a hand at the hill of ash, inviting to look upon it. “The year coth to an end, Iztac. As emperor, it is your duty to see that past afflictions and sins do not carry into the new cycle of the world.”
I looked up at the hill’s summit and caught a glimpse of a figure kneeling at its top, hands joined in prayer. A shiver went down my spine as I realized what ‘sin’ I would purge from this world.
A headless, desiccated corpse with a perfectly carved hole at the center of its chest towered high above . Though its mummification had made him thinner, I imdiately recognized to whom this husk once belonged to. Even in death and desecration, the Nightlords had clothed him like an emperor, with rich finery and golden filigranes.
I stared at the beheaded corpse of Nochtli the Fourteenth, whose skull had joined my reliquary.
I had witnessed my predecessor’s murder alongside the rest of the empire, watching in silent dread as the Nightlords carved his chest open and fed his heart to their sinister sire. Should I fail to defeat the sisters, my remains would one night stand atop this altar in silent desecration.
“These are the past emperors’ ashes.” Yoloxochitl’s hands settled on my shoulders, her nails sharp as an eagle’s talons. She lood behind like death’s shadow. “Much like my father before them, they too have suffered the penance of fire. While their skulls rest in the reliquary, their remains shall fuel the flas of a new year free of sins.”
I ought to throw you into the fire then, I thought. “I see no fla yet.”
“For you must light it with your own hands,” Yoloxochitl explained. “For the next four nights, you shall tend to it from sunset to sunrise. Feed it. Cherish it. Then, on the fifth day, you shall ascend to the top of the world and herald the dawn of a new year.”
“Sunset to sunrise?” My heart stopped. “I… forgive , but I had planned for Ingrid and her mother to visit tonight.”
And moreover, I had promised the Yaotzin a paynt for the night. If I failed to deliver in ti, I dreaded to imagine the resulting penalty.
“They shall await until dawn,” Eztli whispered into my ear. “Do not worry. I shall keep you company until then.”
“These next few days shall be trying, my child,” Yoloxochitl said, her tone gentle but firm. “But the cosmos demands it.”
I hadn’t expected this, nor been inford. Moreover, it would disrupt my journey to the Underworld. While I could catch up on so hours of sleep in the morning, my imperial agenda would force to awaken early.
“Is this year different?” I asked, hiding my frustration behind a veil of curiosity. “I was not told that the ritual would take all night.”
“Every fifty-two years mark the beginning of a new celestial cycle,” Yoloxochitl replied. “This requires more effort on your part, for you do not inaugurate a new year alone. You shall shepherd in a new era for our empire.”
The last one, I hoped.
With few options left, I removed my sandals and began to ascend the mountain of ashes. Eztli followed behind as my shadow. Whereas my feet soon turned gray from the remains of my burned predecessors, her own skin remained untouched.
A vampire climbing a dead mountain with none of their malice staining them, I thought. They felt terribly cold on my skin, without any warmth. How terribly appropriate for the current situation.
“Do you truly think there are only six hundred corpses beneath us?” Eztli sinisterly whispered into my ear. “Seems too few if you ask .”
“Only the emperors are rembered,” I guessed as we continued our ascent. I had witnessed enough cremations that even the tallest of n hardly left a handful of ashes after death. To raise a hill would take countless thousands.
“I always wondered what happened to the flesh and bones of my dinners after I fulfilled my thirst.” Eztli dusted so of the ashes from her robes. Her skin might be spared from their clutches, but her clothes were not. “Do you think so of them are father’s?”
I stopped briefly and peeked at her from over my shoulder. Eztli returned my gaze with cold sad eyes. “I am serious,” she said. “I do not know what they did with his remains.”
While I was relieved she still showed so concern for Guatemoc’s corpse after killing him herself, I didn’t expect her to discuss the matter with such eerie calmness.
“I don’t know,” I replied. “And between us, I hope he’s not here. He deserves better than being trampled upon.”
Eztli looked away, hiding her thoughts from . “I suppose…”
Once again, I found myself wondering how much of my old friend remained inside the vampire she had beco… and if that spark of humanity would survive the allure of her undead sire’s blood.
Eztli smiled back at . She knew well enough to guess what was on my mind.
“Her blood does not affect more than pulque does, Iztac. Though it does taste far better than any drink.” Eztli lightly kissed on the neck, her lips still warm from the recent feast. “Unless you want to breastfeed you mine?”
A chill traveled down my spine. “No, I don’t.”
“I’m joking, Iztac. You have enough mothers as it is.” Eztli’s smile faded. “I don’t like it.”
I snorted. “The breastfeeding?”
“The way you look at ,” she replied. “I would rather see you laugh with than be sad for .”
An awkward silence settled between us, and we continued our ascent without a word.
I struggled to understand Eztli’s behavior. I had the feeling she attempted to hide her pain and sorrow under a veil of wit and cruel humor, but no matter what she said I was certain these breastfeeding sessions ate away at her humanity. Pulque and alcohol drove n to madness if abused. A Nightlord’s blood drove their priests into slavish devotion. If Eztli consud too much… she might completely fall under Yoloxochitl’s sway and reveal our treachery.
I had to find a way to break or subvert their budding blood bond. Perhaps I should feed Eztli the blood of the other Nightlords. This might dilute her particular enthrallnt to Yoloxochitl… no, that would probably worsen things.
The First Emperor’s codices had to provide insight on the matter. He had sired the curse after all.
At long last we reached the top under the pale moonlight. I stood before Nochtli’s mummified remains in silent contemplation. A bundle of dry reeds lay within the open chest cavity, alongside a wood spindle and small bow ant to trigger a fire. I counted fifty-two of the forr, one for each year of a solar cycle.
You stood in my place once, my predecessor, I thought. Was this the mont you decided to rebel? It did you no good, but I swear to the true gods, I shall avenge you and all of those who helped climb to you.
With Eztli watching over my shoulder I aligned the spindle to the middle of the reeds, tied the bowstring around it, and then moved the small bow left and right. I knew the motions by heart. No man could reach adulthood without learning how to start a fire. The thought of burning the Nightlords to death gave the strength to carry on with the task.
My resolve swiftly paid off. A spark ignited among the dry reeds, feeble yet alive. A fla grew within Nochtli the Fourteenth’s chest cavity, slowly consuming the reeds to grow in strength. Smoke arose from the beheaded corpse’s severed neck and moved up towards the hole in the ceiling.
“This takes back,” Eztli mused. She raised her hands towards the newborn fla, her fingers touching it so close I worried she might catch fire herself. “I miss the warmth.”
“What’s next?” I asked. The reeds wouldn’t last all night.
“You will stay here to tend the fire, give it prayers, curses, confess your cris, whatever you want.” Eztli shrugged. “anwhile, I shall co back and forth with old things to burn. Yours is the easy part.”
In short, she would resupply while I wasted my ti watching over the fla until sunrise. “Who will take over during the day?”
“Priests, I suppose?” Eztli shrugged. “This is all for show.”
The Parliant of Skulls thought the sa. My predecessors never found what magical purpose, if any, this ritual served beyond its symbolism. Was this truly a trick of the mind ant to add weight to a false religion, or did it serve a higher purpose?
I ant to check for myself.
I peeked over my shoulder, the eyes of the Nightkin upon while Yoloxochitl watched from the hill’s feet. I cloaked myself in the Veil and felt the weight of their attention upon . Thankfully, as Huehuecoyotl taught , I gave them an illusion of what they expected of : staring at a small fire in silent contemplation. No tide of disbelief ca to wash my magic away. The vampires had witnessed this scene play out ti and ti again for more than six hundred years.
So long as I did not turn the Gaze spell directly at them, they would not sense its radiance. Henceforth, I knelt before my predecessor’s remains and moved my face close to the budding fire.
Reveal your secrets to , I thought as I activated my Gaze spell and stared into the newborn fla. If you keep any.
The sunlight of my heart poured through my eyes and illuminated the small fla my hands had brought into the world.
I saw nothing out of the ordinary. The light of my soul revealed no secret my own eyes couldn’t perceive before. This fire carried no magical power whatsoever.
This is all a fraud, I thought, unsurprised and yet still disappointed. Another lie atop a pyramid of falsehood.
I took a deep breath and I ntally prepared myself for the tireso, pointless task ahead of . The smoke filled my nostrils, followed by a terrible stench. I coughed in surprise and nausea, much to Eztli’s confusion.
“Are you well, Iztac?” she asked softly.
“Do you sll that?” I asked her.
“Sll what?”
That terrible stench of rotten eggs and the sll of burning corpses. I could hardly inhale a whiff of smoke without wanting to vomit. It felt oh so familiar, though it took a while to recognize it.
Sulfur.
Necahual and other won often used it in our village to chase away vermin after the harvest season. I had always disliked the sll of it. However, nothing could compare to the odious smoke rising from this fla.
Did the Nightlords put sulfur in with the reeds? I wondered, observing the blaze with renewed attention. I detected no such fuel. Does it co from the fla itself?
I gazed once more into the fire, searching with my eyes… until I saw it.
A black spot in the center. A blot of darkness in the light’s very heart. A small point no larger than a needle’s head, unchanging and unwavering.
The longer I stared at it, the stronger my heart pounded in my chest. Its beat echoed like a war drum in my head, a searing heat growing in my chest. The longer I stared at the blot, the harder it beca to look away. Eztli’s words beca distant whispers that my mind could no longer comprehend.
The nauseating stench of sulfur overwheld like a tide. The fus addled my mind and overwheld my senses in a nauseous flood of confusing sensations. The blot grew to encompass it, the seed of darkness blooming into an all-consuming night. Thick shadows as warm as blood swallowed the light of my Gaze spell, leaving alone in the endless black.
A new fla arose from nothing when I thought myself bereft of radiance… yet this fire offered no comfort. It was blue and streaked with yellow, the poisonous inferno rising from the sulfur pits.
Sothing stared back at . Sothing great and terrible.
A pressure as overwhelming as King Mictlantecuhtli’s judgnt fell upon my soul; not the cosmic weight of death’s unfeeling gaze and the burden of eons past, but the primal fear of an endless night and the agony of bottomless hunger. I felt my lungs drowning in an ocean of blood and the piercing bites of a million screeching bats. I shared a thirst that no sea could ever hope to satiate, heard the call of a final feast of murdered stars, looked upon a crown of terror, and listened to the scream of a mountain of seared flesh burning in a boiling sulfur pit. I felt its terrible gaze flay my mortal skin and peek at the feeble fire within my chest, at the four leashes coiling around my soul and the withered hands holding them.
Great fangs sharper than obsidian towers flashed in the fla with indescribable fury and a tongue uttered a curse carrying the venom of transcendental hatred. A single word with the power to shatter stone, a fatal accusation, and a deadly prophecy of retribution to co.
T̸̟̩̪̳͍̰̮̈́̃̑͌̑̑͐͋͋̑̒͜ŕ̵̨̨̛̠͕̭̩̮̞̬̤̠͎̲̥͙̤͈̮̲̖̘͖͎̘̯̘̺̘͍̫̘͓͉̙̋͒̊͊͒́͂̾̃̐̾͂̄̅̈́̔̎͋̄̀͆͆͌̋̓̽̑͐̾̋͊̔̃́͗͘͜͜͜͠͝ͅà̸̡̨̬̜̱̞̤͓̥̼̰͕̗̜̘̹̻͕̪̗̐̈̌̾̒̃͗̇͂́͝͝i̷̧̧͚̰̩͖͕͕͔̱̞͓̤͚̥̗͕̝̬̞̻̲̺̺͂͆͆͑́̓̇̓͊̏̋̈́̋̃̉̈́̿̈́̕̕͠ͅt̸̨̨̛̖͇͍̯̜̲͙͔̗̫̰͇̼̟͗̀̾̔̔̎̐͂̾̏͜͠͝ͅơ̴̡̨͎͓̙̻̝͇̞̯̻͉̞̰̝͌͂̎̄̈́̓̄̏̅̌͑͌̓͆̇͗̅͐͐̃͌͆͋͋̈́͂̕͜͠r̸̞̱̖͇̯͚̹̼̼̫̱͍̼͕̭̳̂̊͆̈̒̒̀́̐̎́̽͑̾̑͛̇̕̕͝s̷̲̻̥̮̗̬̞͓̺̤̿̀͊̊͐͗̈́̔̅̓͗̂̕̚̕͘͝͠͠ͅ
By the ti I canceled my Gaze spell and pulled back to reality, a concert of screeches and flapping wings filled the hall. A mighty wind blew on my face, sending a cloud of ashes flying in all directions; the cinders suddenly as hot as if they had been extracted from a freshly made fire.
The temple had descended into chaos. The Nightkin flock scread above . They flew through the hole in the ceiling like the bat swarm that they were. Eztli had gone still at my side, her skin paler than snow, her crimson eyes staring at Nochtli’s flaming heart with utter dread. She had frozen in place the way a rabbit froze when facing a jaguar’s presence.
The fla had turned blue.
Not the azure from Tlaloc’s sun, no, but the yellow-tainted blue fla born of sulfur pits. It had consud the reeds and now glowed within the chest cavity without spreading further. No smoke rose from it, though its nauseating sll remained all-consuming.
“It finally happened,” Yoloxochitl’s voice whispered behind . How did she climb the hill so silently? “After so many centuries… it has finally happened.”
Her cold hands coiled around like snakes, one hand touching my chest, the other my belly. I felt the Nightlord lean against , holding and fondling like a prized pet. I thanked my instinct for canceling my spells in alarm before she could catch sight of them.
“Oh Iztac, you are wonderful.” She kissed on the cheek and the neck, half like a mother happy with their child’s performance, half like a favored lover. It raised shivers on my skin all the sa. “You are a blessed child, the holiest of rulers.”
I held my breath in silence. A terrible cold followed her proclamations, and three winged shadows descended from the ceiling from the sa hole through which the Nightkins escaped. I could hardly distinguish them through the clouds of ash, and when they landed on the hill they had all taken back human forms. Eztli, having finally regained her senses, knelt instantly as three hooded, masked figures surrounded us.
They’re here, I thought, my blood running cold. They’ve answered the call.
The other Nightlords had joined their sisters to witness this strange miracle. They ford a circle around Nochtli’s remains, as if ready to tear him limb from limb again.
“I thought the chains broke, but this…” Sugey, the Bird of War, crossed her arms. Was that dread or joy that I saw in her trembling fingers? “This is it…”
Iztacoatl nodded in excitent. “The fla burns with smokeless sulfur. A sacred hunger that requires no sustenance.” She raised a hand, feverishly approaching the fla. “All the power we can drain from this…”
The Jaguar Woman angrily slapped her sister’s hand away from the fire.
“Restrain yourself,” she chided her sibling. “Those are favorable auspices, but fraught with peril.”
Chains? I wondered. Did they an the chains around my soul? A few of their words drew my attention too. Drain? Not gain?
“I do not understand,” I whispered, fishing for information.
“Our Dark Father has blessed your divine rule, Iztac,” Yoloxochitl replied with motherly pride. “This age, your age, shall be one of blessed darkness and glory. Fifty-two years of terror await our enemies.”
“Our sister speaks true, Iztac Ce Ehecatl,” the Jaguar Woman said. The blue fla’s hue reflected in her exposed eyes. “Your term will be the most important since our empire’s foundation. Feed the fla, child. Feed it.”
“With what?” I rasped.
“Blood.” The Jaguar Woman turned to Eztli, her tone hasty and imperious. “Fetch him blood!”
I spent the night trying to douse that cursed fla.
If the Nightlords wanted it to burn, then it made sense for to smother it in return. I had little luck with that.
First of all, the four sisters stood watch over their twisted prize. They observed my work with the zeal of taskmasters. I was only allowed to pour the cups of blood Eztli climbed the ashen mountain back and forth with.
The longer the night went on, the more I started to doubt that anything could extinguish this unnatural fire. It consud blood and wood alike without leaving any waste. The fluids did not boil or turn to steam at its contact. They simply vanished into the blue fire.
The fla neither grew larger nor hotter no matter how much blood I fed it. I was filling a bottomless hole from which nothing escaped. My task appeared as pointless as it was mind-numbing.
“The dawn approaches,” Yoloxochitl said after many hours. “Go rest, my child. You have earned it.”
“We shall et again at sundown,” the Jaguar Woman added. “Do not delay.”
I considered disobeying, but her tone implied that they would drag to this place if I did. Whatever purpose this ritual served, the Nightlords considered it important enough to oversee personally.
I climbed down the ashen mountain with Eztli’s help. She had helped transport bloody cups all night long without ever uttering a word. Her hollow gaze was empty of its usual mischief and bravery.
“Eztli?” I asked once we finally left the temple. I admit I found myself relieved to escape this place, though it was short-lived. My silent guards dutifully flanked the mont I walked into the next corridor. “Eztli, are you well?”
My friend and consort suddenly seed to rember my presence. “Do you rember that ti we found a snake in the river, two years back?”
“Of course I do.” It had given her quite the scare then.
“That fla… It frightens the sa way, Iztac.” Eztli rubbed her arms with her hands. I had never seen her so scared since… since she had turned. “It wants to eat . I can tell.”
“I won’t let it harm you,” I promised her.
At this mont, she gave the strangest of looks. Despair, sorrow, and sothing I couldn’t quite understand. Sothing unbelievably sad.
“You are sweet, Iztac,” Eztli said softly, “But what makes you think I want you to?”
She vanished into the shadows before I could ask her what she ant.
“Eztli?” I called out to her, shaken by her response. “Eztli?”
Only my silent guards’ steps answered . I was surrounded by ard n, and yet alone once again. Sohow, Eztli’s words frightened as much as whatever terror the Nightlords brewed in that fla of theirs.
Tired as I was, I did not return to my chambers imdiately. Instead, I went to the reliquary, officially to ditate, unofficially to consult with my predecessors.
The previous emperors’ skulls were already awake when I arrived, their empty sockets shining with an eldritch glow. I took it as a dire warning. They had witnessed tonight’s events through our link, and found it concerning.
“What happened?” I asked imdiately. “What was that?”
“Sothing that’s never happened before.” Six hundred skulls marked a short pause, their minds clearly struggling to understand what they had witnessed. “The fla has never turned blue since the New Fire Ceremony started, nor did the Nightlords show so much interest in its upkeep. This is unprecedented.”
A word that did not warm my heart. As for the creature I had witnessed in the fire… that glimpse into an abyss of absolute evil and hunger…
“That thing in the fla…” Rembering it alone caused my heartbeat to quicken. “Could it be…?”
“Mayhaps,” the Parliant replied. They had guessed the likely source of the power within. “Or maybe not. We cannot be certain yet.”
The previous emperors spoke with wisdom, but I sensed their fear beneath the caution. The four sisters were feeble shadows compared to that entity’s power and malice.
“There is another detail you should know, our successor,” the skulls said. “When the sulfur fla lit up, we sensed a surge of power rising from deep below the Blood Pyramid.”
“The Blood Pyramid?” I imdiately thought of whatever horror took place there; sothing so terrible the Parliant would not speak of it. “Why?”
“It’s unclear as of now, but we can warrant a guess,” the Parliant said. “The ritual sacrifice of emperors to their progenitor imbues the Nightlords with magic. The New Fire Ceremony and the Scarlet Moon probably feed into each other sohow. A threshold of so kind has been crossed, whether from the weight of six hundred years of sorrow or because of so cosmic alignnt.”
I supposed their mountain of ashes had grown big enough. “The Nightlords hope that this sulfur fla will strengthen them.”
“All the more reason to douse it, our successor. The quicker the better.”
“Douse it with what, water?” I replied dryly. “It consus all that cos in contact with it. Neither will the Nightlords let out of their sight.”
The skulls fell into the silent gloom. They had no more solutions to offer than I did.
For perhaps the first ti since we ford an alliance, they were at a loss at what to do next. We had ventured into unknown territory where old wisdom could not help us.
I replayed tonight’s events in my mind, trying to grasp their significance. I was certain important details, if not overlooked, would prove key to our future victory.
The First Emperor still existed. The Nightlords feared his wrath, my soul was bound to his altar, and the vampire curse endured. Tales said he had beco the new sun in the sky in a great act of benevolence and that without blood to sustain him, he would cast the universe into eternal darkness.
If… if the entity I had received a glimpse of was indeed the First Emperor, then he was indeed burning. Not in a sun’s heart though. I had witnessed a dead sun and tasted their embers. The flas consuming the First Emperor were of a different sort, their sll unmistakable.
A sulfur cage.
Neither did I feel any kindness or martyrdom coming from this dreadful vampire progenitor. I only tasted a sip of endless hate and bottomless hunger. No fire burned half as hot as that monster’s wrath. As for that final curse he uttered, not at , but at the four parasites claiming to be his daughters and heirs…
Traitors. The word echoed in my head, sharp and clear. Traitors.
“What if…” I cleared my throat, a risky idea forming in my mind. “What if we didn’t douse the fla?”
The old emperors wisely listened. “Explain yourself.”
“I caught a glimpse of what fuels the fire,” I reminded them. “Whether it was the First Emperor or sothing else, it resents the Nigthlords with a hate that surpasses even ours. That, and the sisters… they said they would drain power from the fla.”
“You believe that this power is not granted willingly,” the Parliant guessed. “It is stolen.”
“I think so,” I confird. “What if instead of canceling the Nightlords’ ritual, we could cause it to backfire on them? Let the entity reap its revenge against them?”
For the second ti since I had t them, the skulls making up the Parliant started silently debating between themselves. Such was the gravity of my suggestion.
“We presu that you understand the risks at hand,” they said upon reaching a consensus. “Sorcery of this magnitude is like wielding an obsidian dagger without a hilt. A single mistake might spell your destruction.”
“We have all perished once before,” I replied with determination. I had stabbed my own heart to spite the sisters on the very first night of my rule. I could do it again if needed. “While I would rather live to see Yohuachanca crumble, I will gladly offer my life to drag the Nightlords down into the Underworld’s depths.”
“Your resolve does you credit, our successor.” The dead emperors rattled in approval. “We must ponder this further and gather more information. Until then, you should rest and think, our successor. We can discuss our options with a clearer mind afterward.”
I excused myself with a final bow, so tired that I relished the thought of going to bed. Yet my mind remained worried. If the First Emperor truly fueled that sinister ritual, then it made it all the more imperative to study his codices.
I needed to obtain those books by whatever ans necessary.
Only then could I cut the vampire curse off at its source.
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