Lixta Crack

America Undiscovered

Sometimes the end is just the beginning. The beginning of an aimless, endless journey.

Tonatiuh [1] filled with bloody crimson, almost touching the horizon.

Time to head off.

My flying pirogue came off the shore of Aztlan, leaving a trace of smoke over the water. The mirror screen took a picture of that to store it forever once I touched the disk of my tlapoualtepostli [2].

Tonatiuh slid a ray of light across the silvery screen, continuing on his way to the underworld. Time went on as normal, except for the stolen moment that remained captive in my mirror.

I was heading for Tenochtitlan, a great city whose residents walked around almost naked, clad only in bird feathers, and made human sacrifices to the volcano. In Aztlan, my home island, I’d heard a talk that they worshipped us as gods. That sounded funny. I didn’t really believe it, but now my only hope was that it was true.

The flying pirogue made a circle over the city before landing on the square next to a four-layered pyramid. The Nahua people dropped whatever they were doing and came up to marvel at me. I took out my tlapoualtepostli to take a picture of their astonished faces when everyone suddenly turned to the large body of water.

Coming up to the shore was a number of large pirogues. It would take at least one thousand rowers to move a boat that big, but these had none. They were driven by Ehecatl [3], god of wind, blowing up their large sails.

Everyone ran away from the water, screaming, dropping their feathers and loincloths in a hurry to hide inside the pyramid. The rushing crowd almost knocked me down. They seemed to know that the large pirogues were dangerous. I knew nothing about them, but still I followed the Nahuas to beneath the pyramid.

The pyramid’s inside was lit by torches. When I came in, my mirror drew everyone’s attention once again.

“Who are you?” asked the man who wore the largest number of feathers.

I was about to give the stranger a made-up name to prevent him from taking any power over me when someone screamed: “Tezcatlipoca!”

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I knew the meaning of this word: smoking mirror. They probably called me that because of my mirror still reflecting the smoke trace of my flying pirogue over the water.

“Tezcatlipoca,” a whisper full of awe spread through the crowd.

I said nothing. I knew these people were fond of making new legends about us, people of Aztlan, ascribing all sorts of supernatural powers to us.

The last thing I was going to do was tell them the story of my exile from the clan of Kauitl [4]. I was rejected by my family because any clocks I made were useless; instead of counting the moments of time, they would steal them, putting them as pictures into my mirror.

I knew by foresight that someday everyone would want a clock taking pictures and connecting with other such clocks by invisible threads. But it would happen a long, long time later. Maybe in a thousand years, when the peoples of Nahua and of Aztlan would long be gone.

“Tezcatlipoca is a strong warrior. He will protect us from istaktlakatl [5].”

It was no longer fun. Why did they have to say that? I was anything but a strong warrior. But these people didn’t seem to care. They just shoved me out of their pyramid to meet the white-faced intruders. Strangely dressed (in abundant clothing, unlike the Nahuas), they were already coming off their pirogues to the shore, their weapons smelling of blood.

I ran up to my flying pirogue and started the engine. The strangers stopped at seeing the puffs of smoke burst out.

My supply of the black blood of the earth was running out; I used it up to make a small circle. Then my pirogue fell down.

Now I couldn’t escape.

“Stop!” I cried out, shielding myself with the mirror. “Or I will steal your lives!”

I had no idea if they could understand me. I just took out the tlapoualtepostli and used it. A haze came over the mirror; in a moment, it cleared to show their scared white faces.

“See? You’re all in my power!”

Seeing their confusion, I took a step forward. They stood as still as my taken picture. As if I really had stolen their lives. Not that I could ever do that; I could steal ten seconds at best and they were already over, time back to normal. Only the image in the mirror reminded of my theft.

They tried to attack me but I stole ten seconds again to dodge their arrows. They probably thought I was moving with lightning speed, but no; it was themselves freezing for a while.

I did it several more times to dump them into the water. Each time my mirror took a picture of that awkward battle.

The strangers got back into their pirogues and sailed off.

“Tezcatlipoca drove the istaktlakatl away!” the Nahua people screamed.

Weird feather-wearers they might be, but they were the closest family I still had in this world. I was glad they were safe.

I might even teach them a few of Aztlan’s secrets so they’d be able to better protect themselves.

As I knew by foresight, the strangers would be back someday to give this land an odd name of America and make more legends about me. But that wouldn’t happen any soon.

It was not the end of my world. It was just the beginning.

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[1] Nahuatl for sun.

[2] Nahuatl for clock.

[3] Nahuatl for wind

[4] Nahuatl for time.

[5] Nahuatl for a white person.

All Nahuatl translations in this work derived from: https://lingojam.com/Aztectranslator