1502 (Mesoamerica)

Cheers and loud drumming can be heard floating throughout the sacred city of Tenochtitlan. It signals the successful sacrifice of another mortal to the gods. A lifeless body can be seen tumbling down the steps of the great Templo Mayor while leaving a crimson trail behind it.

The year is 1502, and it’s the dawn of a new day. The first of many sacrifices have started, signaling the beginning of the day’s festivities. Aztecs are cheering and dancing while looking to the top of the Templo Mayor. The sky is clear of any clouds, and a strong breeze brings with it the smell of iron, distinct to that of blood. At the top of the temple sits Montezuma the 2nd. He is the newly crowned emperor of Tenochtitlan and the surrounding areas. Alongside him sits his family, and his second in command, Hototo. The top of the temple is filled with the sounds of sobbing and begging. They belong of course, to the prisoners of war that the Aztecs have captured in their most recent raid. Their pleading is all for not, considering that the Aztecs do not understand the prisoner’s language. Even if they did, there would be absolutely no chance of their release. The Aztecs are a people who routinely sacrifice, and even their own are used to appease the gods. These prisoners will not spend their last day on Earth as free men.

“Next!” Emperor Montezuma commands.

One of the guards holding the prisoners hauls the next in line forward despite the prisoner’s yells and pleads. His face is bruised and battered with long trails of cuts winding up and down his body. The prisoner looks at the Emperor with fear and hatred.

“Your gods are evil! You are evil! Your people are a curse on this land! You deserve death for what you did to our tribe!” The prisoner screams at the emperor but to no avail.

The emperor can’t understand him. Montezuma simply smiles at the prisoner, relishing in the man’s fear.

The struggling prisoner is laid down belly up against a stone altar. His legs and arms are pinned down by four guards over the edges of the altar.

An Aztec priest clad in skulls and bright feathers walks up to the blood-soaked altar and bellows, “Rejoice, citizens of Tenochtitlan! Your new emperor asks for another sacrifice! We will appease the gods today!”

Cheers erupt from all around the base of the Templo Mayor. The citizens watch on in anticipation for the body that will soon come flying down the steps.

Next to the emperor sits an uncomfortable man. Hototo shifts in his seat, trying not to make it obvious to the emperor just how against this practice he is.

‘It’s for the cause.’ He thinks to himself. ‘I must endure it.’

“Is something troubling you Hototo?” Montezuma asks. “You seem to be distracted today. I can’t have my second in command be daydreaming.”

Montezuma is looking at Hototo with a hard stare.

Hototo snaps to attention. “Forgive me, my emperor. I must have eaten something that was ill-prepared. It’s causing me slight discomfort.”

Montezuma nods and turns back to look at the prisoner on the altar. “Then kill the one who prepared it. We can’t afford to have our cooks weakening any of us with their poor skills. Better yet… bring them in to be sacrificed tomorrow.”

Hototo lowers his head to Montezuma. “It will be done.”

Montezuma grins as he looks out to his great and flourishing city. “There will be sacrifices every day Hototo. Our gods command it. By the time I’m finished reigning over Tenochtitlan, it will be a crimson city. The gods will look upon us and praise me for my accomplishments. You will see.”

Hototo grimaces inwardly but smiles at Emperor Montezuma.

Hototo hates the act of sacrifice. His tribe the “Illum,” deems sacrifice to be a barbaric practice done with the aim of pleasing false gods.

Hototo and a few dozen others had been sent by his tribe years ago to the city of Tenochtitlan. The Aztec’s rapid rise to power had been increasing under the radar until it was too large to ignore. His tribe ultimately decided that the Aztecs are a threat to the peaceful world that they have been attempting to achieve since ancient times. If his tribe were to have any hope of introducing and unifying the different continents without a war; they would have to be the leading mediators on both sides. To accomplish this, they would have to infiltrate the Aztecs and rise to power or destroy the entire civilization. In the years that have followed his arrival, Hototo has managed to strong-arm his way to second in command. The dozens of other Illums that came with him have become scholars, married into nobility, or have joined the Emperor’s private guard.

When Hototo finally snaps out of his thoughts, the priest is holding an obsidian ceremonial dagger above his head while chanting loudly to the gods.

When he finishes, he plunges the dagger straight down into his victim’s abdomen and drags it up the prisoner’s torso. In one smooth motion, he rips out the man’s heart with one hand and holds it above his head. The crowd below erupts into cheers once again.

Two of the guards that were holding the man down, drag him to the edge of the platform and kick him down the steps. His body leaves a large trail of blood that joins the one left by the previous sacrifice.

The priest bites off a piece of the heart and tosses the remaining portion to the floor.

Hototo’s stomach churns as he watches on. He nods and steels himself internally. This is why he must complete his mission. This disgusting practice must be stopped at all costs, so that peace may come to the land.

The priest finally looks at Emperor Montezuma to see if he is satisfied.

Montezuma rises from his chair, and announces, “Every prisoner in line will be sacrificed. I want the steps of this temple to be drenched in their blood!”

The 30 or so prisoners standing in line start screaming once again when they see the guard come to pick the next sacrifice.

In the middle of the crescendo of screams, cheers, and drumming, a loud bang suddenly sounds throughout the city. In a flash of light, a pair of beautiful women appear in front of the altar, as if they were created from the very air itself. Their clothes look like they were made of the finest silk. One is wearing a white dress that flows elegantly to the floor. Her blonde hair is held up in an intricate design while her dazzling blue eyes pierce the souls of every single person present. The other has flowing white hair, and her eyes are a mysterious, lilac purple. Her ears look slightly elongated and end in a fine point. She is wearing a simple purple dress that has a unique shimmering effect. They both have flawless, fair skin that the Aztecs have never seen before.

The emperor stands in alarm, but can’t help himself and stares in awe at these two otherworldly beings while being stuck in place. With them comes a stifling pressure that causes everyone to buckle under its weight. They look around regally and fix their eyes on a few different people.

Hototo notices that their eyes only stop on the people of his tribe who have managed to infiltrate the Aztecs. He quickly breaks into a sweat.

‘How could this be?’ He thinks to himself. ‘There is only one goddess. Are the Aztec gods real? Have the Aztecs actually been able to summon them? Are they here to warn them of our presence?”

A million thoughts run through his mind as he stares at these two beings who are clearly not from this world.

A plan of desperation soon forms in his mind. If he is unable to complete his mission, and will inevitably die here to the gods or the Aztecs, then the least he can do is kill this despicable emperor who seems to have a thirst for death. Maybe then, his fellow tribe members can escape the wrath of the gods in the middle of the ensuing chaos.

He locks eyes with one of his people who is masquerading as a guard, and mouths the word run. In one swift motion, he stands and grabs the emperor from behind, who was busy staring at the goddesses. The emperor gives a shout of alarm but quickly quiets himself as Hototo presses his macuahuitl against his throat. The macuahuitl is a lethal wooden club with embedded obsidian blades. One sharp movement from Hototo and no one would be able to save the emperor from having his neck slashed open.

“I will kill him! I swear it!” He screams at the goddesses.

The two smile at him in turn, as if nothing of importance is occurring.

Everyone who was standing in shock at the goddesses suddenly come to their senses. The guards all unsheathe their weapons, but before anyone can react, half of the emperor’s private guard suddenly turn and betray their brothers in arms. The traitors make quick work of the surprised guards. The remaining nobles, priests, and the emperor’s family are left in shock. The prisoners take it as their cue to leave and run down the steps of the temple in a panic.

“Run!” Hototo screams at his people.

They all shake their heads at him. The same guard he had locked eyes with before, speaks up. “Either we all succeed, or we all die. For the goddess.” He raises his own weapon at the two beings.

Hototo sighs in frustration but turns to the goddesses nonetheless.

“Let us go, and we will allow him to live,” Hototo states with conviction.

The goddess in the purple dress whispers something to the other, and the goddess with the blonde hair gives a light laugh in response. It sounds like music to everyone’s ears.

“Do whatever you like to that man. We did not come here for him.” The blonde goddess says.

Hototo raises his eyebrows in shock while the emperor he’s holding recoils in alarm. The goddess didn’t speak in Nahuatl, otherwise known as the language of the Aztecs. Hototo recognizes it as the language of one of the most powerful countries in the world, located on a far off continent. He learned it due to the high possibility of its usefulness in the Illum’s plans. He would have never imagined it would come into play here and now.

“You’re not here to warn them of our presence?” Hototo asks in English.

Montezuma’s eyes open wide in horror when he hears Hototo respond in the goddess’s language. He quickly realizes that these gods aren’t on his side.

The goddess smiles at Hototo as if pleased that there wouldn’t be a difficulty in communication.

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“No, of course not. I am here because my daughter Aristi-” She gestures to the goddess standing next to her. “Said that there is a mortal here who stands at the top of the proverbial food chain…. amongst you humans at least, and that he fits my needs quite nicely. I was intrigued so I asked her to show me.”

She looks at Hototo with interest. “It seems like she was correct. You do have quite a strong mortal soul. It is very impressive.”

She is suddenly standing in front of Hototo and Montezuma.

Everyone stands in stunned silence while they attempt to process how she traveled the distance without anyone noticing.

“What is your name?” The goddess asks him.

“My name is Hototo.” He replies while being unsure of what is to come.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you Hototo.” The goddess replies with a kind voice.

“The pleasure is mine,” Hototo responds in a cold sweat. “Forgive me, but… who are you?”

The blonde-haired goddess looks at him with a twinkle in her eye.

“I am Sani.” She says.

Every single one of Hototo’s people, including himself, instantly drops to their knees. They all bow their heads in reverence.

When Hototo drops to his knees, he has to release Montezuma. As soon as Montezuma feels Hototo’s arms release him, he runs off in a panic down the temple steps.

Sani gives a chuckle as she watches the frightened emperor flee. “It seems that your tribe hasn’t forgotten their origins.”

“Of course not my goddess,” Hototo says with a lowered head. “We would never forget the creator of the Illum.”

“That’s good to hear young one. Although, I technically only created your ancestors. You are a result of their mating with human mortals.”

Hototo raises his head in confusion but lowers it quickly when he locks eyes with Sani.

Sani gives another chuckle. “It is ok Hototo, you may look at me.”

Hototo hesitatingly raises his head to look at Sani.

“What do you mean we mated with mortals?” He asks.

“Exactly what I said. I created your ancestors, and with time they started mating with mortals. Although your ancestors weren’t very much stronger than the humans of earth, they weren’t mortals themselves. Your ancestors were beings created from tiny portions of my energy, and because there has to be at least one mortal present in a set of parents to have children, they had no choice but to mate with mortals. That is why your people are stronger than the average human. You all have a mortal soul that is slightly empowered by the energy of your ancestors, my creations.”

Hototo is amazed by the information given to him. Although his tribe does its best to preserve its history, the information about the very first of his people is almost nonexistent. The only real piece of information they retained from that time is the knowledge that they have a creator, otherwise known as Sani. Although, one small detail glares out at him.

“You said that a being has to mate with a mortal to have children…does that mean that Aristi, the one you called daughter...” Hototo trails off.

Sani shakes her head. “She is a daughter to me in the same way that your ancestors were. I created all of them, including Aristi, from my own energy. I have never given birth to anyone.”

Hototo nods to himself for a moment before remembering that Sani had been looking specifically for him. “How may I serve you, my goddess?”

Sani smiles at him. “Well you see… as I said, I have never birthed anyone. I have decided that it is time that I do, but I need someone with an exceptional mortal soul.”

Hototo looks at Sani in disbelief.

“So Hototo...” Sani continues. “Do you think you can assist me with this venture?”

Hototo stares at Sani in shock for a moment before lowering his head. “It would be my honor, my goddess.”

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9 Months Later

Sani screams out in pain as she tries pushing.

She would have never imagined that birth could be so painful. Long gone were the feelings of envy, whenever she would see a mortal woman birth her own child. The only thing that remains is the pain.

“You’re doing great Mother,” Aristi speaks encouragingly. “Just a little more. Keep pushing!”

Aristi and Hototo are sitting in an immaculately painted and furnished room, while they both look at Sani in concern. Sani is laying on a bed in agony. The sheets have long been covered in sweat.

When she first made the decision to have a child, she was under the assumption that her being a goddess would negate all possible pain that came with childbirth. Apparently, that was negated by the fact that she was not giving birth to a normal mortal child.

They are all in the largest room in Tenochtitlan that Montezuma could provide. After Sani and Aristi’s arrival, the current emperor was left in power, but it was allowed under the condition that Hototo and his people are left unharmed and to their own devices. The emperor quickly agreed, too afraid to say otherwise.

Sani was announced as pregnant not too long after the initial meeting between her and Hototo. She and he have gotten quite close in the months that followed.

Sani surprised herself very much with the sudden affection she developed for the mortal. Although she always makes the attempt at being kind and merciful to mortal kind, she has never in all of eternity developed feelings for them. Let alone, fall in love with one.

She decides that it may be because this is the only mortal that she has ever mated with.

“Come on honey,” Hototo says encouragingly. “Just a little more. You can do it.”

He would take her hand in his if it wasn’t for the fact that she would more than likely crush it to dust because of the pain.

“There you go, Mother. One last push.” Aristi says. She had quickly volunteered to be the midwife when the pregnancy had been announced.

Sani gathers her strength and pushes one more time. She screams so loudly that Hototo falls to his knees in agony. He wouldn’t be surprised if his ears would bleed from the sheer force of the scream.

When he finally stands back up, he sees Sani lying peacefully in her bed. She seems to be sound asleep.

He checks on her but sighs in relief when he can hear her breathing softly.

“She must have really worn herself out,” Hototo says as he caresses her sleeping face.

“So how is the little one?” He asks as he finally turns to look at his child.

He instantly stiffens when he notices Aristi staring at the baby boy in silence. The baby isn’t crying.

“What’s wrong?” He asks in dread.

“He doesn’t want to wake up.” She answers with a wavering voice. “I can feel his soul, but it’s weak. It’s as if it has no energy going through it. I don’t understand.”

She dawns a determined expression as if she makes up her mind about something.

“Don’t tell my Mother about this.”

She lays the baby on the bed and places her hands on his head and chest.

“What are you doing?” Hototo asks in alarm.

“I’m going to give him some of my energy. Hopefully, he’s able to accept it into himself.” Aristi murmurs while concentrating.

“Sani said it’s dangerous to give mortals energy! Their bodies might reject it, or you might give them too much. He’s a baby, he won’t be able to tell you to stop!” Hototo exclaims in worry.

“You’re right,” Aristi says while closing her eyes. “But if I don’t do this he’ll die anyway. I won’t allow that to happen to my baby brother. Not while I’m here.”

Aristi releases a wave of energy into the air for a second before quickly reigning it back in, and directing it to flow into the newborn.

Hototo looks on in dread, but can’t disagree with Aristi’s logic. Sani is out cold, and Aristi is the only one who might be able to save his son.

Aristi stays frozen in place. She soon starts sweating profusely, and before long her entire dress is soaked in sweat. She’s breathing heavily in exhaustion, and her face is slowly turning a sickly yellow.

“What’s going on?” Hototo asks in worry.

The baby doesn’t seem to be getting any better.

“I don’t know. Something’s sucking up all of my energy. It doesn’t matter how much I give. It’s still not enough. It’s as if I’m trying to feed a black hole.” She says on unsteady feet.

“Will you be ok?” Hototo asks.

She shakes her head. “I’m giving too much of my energy at once. I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up.”

Hototo looks at his baby for a second and decides to do something his father did for him. ‘If all else will fail, then it couldn’t hurt to try.’ He thinks to himself.

Hototo walks up to his son, and places his hand next to the one Aristi has on his forehead.

He closes his eyes and sings a soft melody. It’s in the ancient language that only his people are able to speak, Illuminati. The words flow together like a peaceful river, and the subtle rises and falls of his voice calm the air around him. It’s as if the world itself is stopping to listen to his singing.

When his final word is finally sung, the baby laying on the bed opens his eyes and starts wailing loudly, as if angry that Hototo has stopped singing. The baby has a beautiful set of eyes. He has a pair of incredibly dark eyes, not unlike the color of the obsidian that adorns the Aztec’s weapons.

Aristi falls to the floor in a slump. She is gasping for air while Hototo bends down to pick up the crying baby. He cradles him in his arms and makes shushing noises while rocking him back and forth.

At that moment Sani awakens and looks at the two of them with adoration in her eyes. She opens her arms and gestures to Hototo to let her hold her baby.

Hototo smiles at Sani and places him in her arms.

“I didn’t know you could sing like that,” Aristi says, still exhausted from her efforts.

“You sang?” Sani asks.

Hototo nods. “To the baby. It’s one of the gifts I received from my people. The elders used to say that my singing has healing properties. Although… I always doubted the validity of their sayings.”

He shrugs his shoulders. “My mother would always tell me when I was young, that after I was born I would always make little noises, and it would sound as if I was attempting to sing. That’s why they decided to name me Hototo, “the warrior spirit who sings.”

“And what should we name this little one?” Sani coos at her son. She is quite obviously enamored with her new baby.

“What about Montear?” Hototo suggests. “After my grandfather.”

Sani seems to consider the name for a moment. “Mon-tear.” She says as she looks at her son who is still busy crying. “Well, it’s certainly fitting.”

She laughs softly and looks to Hototo. “It’s perfect honey. Montear Howahkan, the next leader of the cosmos.” She holds the baby closely.

Aristi looks at her Mother in confusion. “Howahkan? Where did you get that from?”

“It’s my last name,” Hototo says. “It means, “of the mysterious voice.”

Aristi shakes her head. “Your family really has a thing for singing.”

Sani is about to chuckle but notices how exhausted her daughter looks. “What happened?”

“Long story.” She waves her mother off. “Story for another time.”

“No, it’s a story for now. What happened? I passed out, and you look like you’re about to as well.”

Aristi sighs, and gets up off the floor to sit on the bed next to Sani.

“Montear…wasn’t breathing. He has a strong soul...” She says as she inspects the baby with her eyes. “But he had almost no energy going through it. I thought he just wasn’t born with enough energy to fuel it, but when has that ever happened? So I had a hunch that something else was the cause, and I decided to give him my own energy.”

“You did what!” Sani asks with anger.

Aristi lifts her hand in a placating gesture. “I had no other choice! He would have died if I didn’t, and without a properly fueled soul he might not ever be reborn, so yes I did it!”

Sani thinks for a moment and decides to let it pass. Her daughter is correct after all.

Aristi sees her Mother calm down, and continues. “But there was a problem. No matter how much energy I gave him he still needed more, and at one point…it felt like something was forcibly pulling on my energy. What was that?”

Sani stares at her daughter with shocked eyes for a long moment, before she finally turns to look at the crying boy in her arms. “It can’t be.”

“What’s wrong?” Aristi and Hototo ask in unison.

Sani’s eyes go unfocused for a second before the light finally returns to her eyes. She looks at her son in a mixture of awe and horror. “It transferred to him.” She whispers.

Hototo looks at his love in fear. “What transferred to him, honey?”

“The origin.” She says in a small wavering voice. “It’s not possible.”

Before he can react, Sani and Aristi are suddenly sucked into a blinding beam of light that materializes in the blink of an eye. They disappear in a split second.

Hototo is stuck in a frozen daze, unable to comprehend what just happened.

He turns to look at his baby, who dropped to the bed when his Mother disappeared.

Hototo sees a dark shadow fall over his baby, which gradually drains the color from Montear until the baby seems almost grey-scaled.

He rushes forward in a panic, but before he can grab his baby, Montear disappears.

In his spot lies an empty space.

Hototo touches the spot in which his baby was laying with an expression of terror and rage, all the while remembering the last moment before his son disappeared.

The only thing that he could see of Montear was his pain-filled face. An expression full of agony on his tiny face, as if something was hurting him.

“Nooo!” Hototo howls in fury and despair. His perfect moment with his baby and his love has been ruthlessly shattered by an unknown.

Just then Hototo hears a noise at the entrance of the room.

He turns to the origin of the sound and finds Emperor Montezuma standing there with a group of warriors. In the emperor’s hand is the head of one of Hototo’s tribe members. It’s the head of the very same member he had told to run so many months ago.

Montezuma starts laughing to himself with wild abandon and points to Hototo.

“Take him to the temple. Now that those imposters have been taken care of, he’ll be a sacrifice to the real gods.”

The warriors rush forward and seize hold of Hototo. In his disoriented state, he is no match for any of them. He’s dragged out of the room roughly.

Finally, only Montezuma remains. He is staring at the empty bed when he suddenly jumps in surprise.

“Where is the boy?” A deep voice asks in annoyance.

“I-I don’t know, but we will find him. I swear it, your grace.” Montezuma says in fear.

“See to it that you do, or you and all your people will suffer. This I promise you.” The voice responds.

“I will not disappoint you. I swear it.”

With that, the voice suddenly disappears as quickly as it came.

Montezuma sighs in relief and looks around the room again.

“Where the hell could a baby have disappeared to?”

He shakes his head and begins the long task of finding the missing infant.