by Amy Sumida
So I sent my power through them, I strengthened my brave priests and I led them through the traitors. I heard my brothers screaming in fury, in pain, but it wasn’t enough, there were so many of them spread out through the great city that guarded my home.
I felt my skin start to burn and I fought hard to control it. I couldn’t lend my strength to my priests if I was under the heat. Commanded by the sun, I would be consumed and think only of the blood of my enemies. So I controlled it, I pushed it back and used my magic to hold back as much of them as I could, while we fought to hold the front line.
Then I heard it, my father’s scream in my mind. His cry for mercy, not for himself but for his wife and daughter. I froze and turned to look at his temple behind me. Somehow they’d got through. My brothers were inside, killing my family. I roared in rage and traced to them, using our link to home in on.
My father was a mass of spears. His head had rolled to a stop against the wall near his body and his eyes stared at me in flat accusation. Some of my brothers knelt by the pool of blood that flowed from his corpse and lapped at it like dogs. My mother and sister were in the corner, both headless as well, their bodies still holding each other, comforting one another, even in death.
I dropped to my knees and screamed, tears blinding me momentarily. I saw my brothers look up, licking their lips and reaching for their weapons. They all had Atlantean armor, having come from Atlantis with Father. I had only what the Aztecs could make, being born of this continent. Father was wearing his gold Atlantean armor and his sword was lying next to him but it didn’t matter because the heat was coming and this time, I was going to let it consume me.
Hot, I was so hot, I’d burn without blood. Flames ran along the inside of my skin, fighting to get out to the life-giving air. My brothers came at me and I flung out a barrier spell to enclose only three of them in with me. They kept coming, confident in their weapons, and I smiled. They hesitated a moment when they saw my fangs and discovered that Father had passed on his power already. They’d get nothing from drinking his cooling blood.
Then their faces contorted as they howled in rage and ran at me. I batted away their weapons like insects and broke their necks, feasting off them one at a time. Discarding the used up corpses, I picked up my father’s sword before letting more in with me.
We fought that way for hours and instead of tiring, I became more energized, more powerful with every body I drained. The bodies piled so deep that I had to take the fight out to the pyramid’s steps but it didn’t matter. All I knew was death. My world became an endless series of slash, chop, strike, drink, and move on. My brothers didn’t lose their confidence till the end, when most of their corpses spread out behind me and the power I collected sang out like a freshly rung bell. By then it was too late.
The humans they’d enlisted turned on them, offering my brothers up to me in exchange for their own lives. I accepted, feasting while my priests finished them off. Drinking down so much power, my skin felt near to bursting with it.
When the last of my brothers finally lay dead and drained, I sent away the opposing humans with a wave of my hand. They left crying my name as their god. Huitzilopochtli, God of War, they shouted with the zeal of the newly converted. My priests took up the chant until I raised my hands for silence. They knelt before me and I went among them, touching each and every head in blessing. I bestowed a little of the power I’d gained on them. My loyal priests. Outnumbered, they had stayed strong, even when I left them to battle within. They deserved a part of the lives I took, a part of the life I’d live.
They piled the bodies of my brothers at the base of my pyramid. They would have burned them as well but I stopped them. I went back to my family and gathered them to me to cry out my agony over. I sat covered in their blood and bodies, squeezing them tightly and absorbing their essence into my skin as my tears bathed them. When the last tear fell, I knew they’d never fall again. I’d never again feel love that deeply. I’d never again allow myself to be so weak. The pain was over and through its death, I was reborn.
I carried my sister’s body out of the temple and lifted her to the moon with my magic. Below me, my priests sang. They worshiped her and eased her journey with their voices. I felt her body come to rest on the moon she had adored and she sank into it, became a part of it. There she could abide, forever shining upon me. A soft memory each night, of what I’d lost.
My brothers I sent hurtling, one by one, into the sky. No magic to ease their journey. They burned like meteors as they went. I enjoyed each fiery departure, wanting them as far from me as possible, pleased with the knowledge that their bodies would burn to ash and scatter, to float unmourned in cold, uncaring space.
Around me, I heard the Aztecs gathering. I heard them whispering in awe and kneeling on the blood soaked earth. They spoke of Huitzilopochtli, kin slayer. Who made the stars from the bodies of his brothers and the moon from his sister’s head. I didn’t want my brothers to be stars, I wanted them to be completely forgotten, but I allowed the legends to grow on the lips of my people. I allowed my priests to go out and counsel them on ways of worship, knowing this was the responsibility of leadership. Then I went inside my father’s temple and buried my parents.
It wasn’t until I placed the last stone over my father that I realized my vision was tinted red. I picked up my father’s sword and held it up to stare at my reflection in the shiny metal. My eyes had been jade green, my mother’s favorite color, and she’d always said they were the most beautiful eyes in the world. But the eyes that stared back at me from the sword’s edge were red, churning pools of fresh, bright blood.
I screamed.
I gasped for air loudly and deeply as I returned to my dream body, my mind, still hearing my screams. No, Huitzilopochtli’s.
“I’m Vervain Lavine,” I whispered over and over. “I’m Vervain Lavine.”
When my breathing became even, I looked down and rubbed my hands over my body, feeling, remembering. I was shaking but Blue was horrified. He knelt before me in the grass, his eyes wide and streaming with tears.
“You… I...” he pulled away, wiping frantically at his cheeks.
I reached out for him but he held up a hand and shook his head. He’d lost control and he wasn’t happy about it. I could understand that. I didn’t like it when I lost control either.
“You saw it all didn’t you?” His voice was hoarse. “You lived my memories and I’m sorry for that. I would have spared you that horror.”
“They made your nightmare into pretty myths didn’t they?” I saw suddenly what it meant to be a god. To be worshiped but never comforted. To be prayed to but never spoken with. To be adored but never truly loved. To be feared.
“They knew no better,” his eyes held no blame. “They believed their stories and it enriched their lives. It was a small thing to allow. I regret only that you had to see such violence and weakness in me. It won't happen again.” He pulled himself onto the seat and brushed off his pants with efficient movements.
“There’s no shame in mourning your family,” I tried to keep my voice neutral, like I was stating a fact, but it shook with my own unshed tears. The worst thing a person could do when you were struggling for control, was speak to you with sympathy. I remembered when my father died. I could only hold it together as long as no one asked if I was alright. I wouldn't do that to Blue.
“I haven’t cried since that day. I thought I’d burned the tears out of me,” Blue looked at me then and his face was a mixture of anger, fear, pain, and awe. “You’ve made me feel love, Vervain but you’ve also opened me back up to the heartache.”
I swallowed hard and did my best to hold his gaze. “They often go hand in hand, Blue. You can’t have one without the other. You can’t understand happiness without first knowing loss. I hope someday you see the pain as a kind of gift.” I wondered then if maybe he did really love me in his own twisted way. I'd discounted all his declarations as the musings of a madman but maybe he wasn't so mad
after all, maybe he was just plain angry.
“It always amazes me that humans can gain so much wisdom in such a short time.” One last tear trickled out of his eye and he let it run down his cheek.
I smiled sadly. “Not enough usually,” I took his hand and he squeezed mine. “I’ve no idea what to do about you.”
“The fact that you’re considering me at all brings me pleasure,” he pulled my hand to his lips and kissed it gently.
“You’re not going to make this easy are you?”
“It's never easy to realize your enemies are not the monsters you'd thought them to be.” He looked down at the hand he still held.
“Or that it still changes nothing,” I said as I woke from the dream.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
“So what do you think?” I had done a new series of paintings and my friend Sommer had come over to see them before we did some spellwork together.
“They're the most beautiful things I've ever seen,” Kai, Sommer's middle son, stared up at my artwork like he was viewing the Mona Lisa. His mother stood behind him with a slightly different expression.
“They're a little dark,” she looked over the first in the series, studying the pile of corpses laid out before the Aztec temple. “What inspired you?”
“I've been doing some research,” I smiled at her struggle to come up with something positive to say. “This one is based on the Aztec myth of Huitzilopochtli. The dead men are his brothers. They murdered his parents and his sister, so he killed them all and sent their bodies into the sky to become the stars,” I gestured at the next painting which showed the corpses turning into bright points of light.
“That's amazing!” Kai was practically jumping up and down with excitement. “What's this one about?” He pointed at the third painting.
“That's Blue's... uh, I mean Huitzilopochtli's sister.” I looked over the painting critically. I was happy with the resemblance I'd been able to achieve from Blue's memory of Coyolxauhqui. The severed head looked peaceful, beautiful even, as it glowed in place of the Moon. “He put her head into the sky and it became the Moon.”
“Wow,” Kai breathed. “And these?” He was already on to the next.
“This is what Huitzilopochtli became,” I took a deep breath as I looked into Blue's blood-filled eyes. It was a close up of his face, his intense gaze matching the blood that dripped over his face. “He's the God of War and the rush of battle enflames him, he can't be stopped until he's drenched in blood.”
“That's the most awesome and wonderful story I've ever heard,” Kai's eyes were focused intently on Blue's. “Can we try some Aztec magic today?”
Kai was the only one of Sommer's sons who had any aptitude for magic. She started bringing him with her to our little spell sessions when he was three and he'd been instantly hooked. Now, at the age of ten, he could hold his own with the grown witches. He also had a knack for stumbling on brilliant ideas.
“Aztec magic,” I whispered. “Kai, you're a genius!” I should have been researching Aztec magic as soon as I began battling an Aztec. Fight fire with fire and all that. Why the hell hadn't I thought of that?
“Uh huh,” he grinned up at me.
“And so modest,” his mother gave him a reproachful look.
“Yep,” he grinned wider.
“I don't know any spells off hand,” I led them out of my art room and into my magic room. “But I'd love to do some research if you guys are up for it.”
“Sure!” Kai made a beeline for the shelves of books on the far side of the room.
“Vervain,” Sommer stopped me with a hand on my arm. “What's going on?”
“What do you mean?” I blinked innocently up at her.
“The paintings,” she frowned. “They're not your usual style and now an interest in Aztec magic? Your not even interested in shamanic practices and your part Native American. Now you want to study the Aztecs?”
“Race has nothing to do with it,” I gestured over at Kai, who had found a huge book and was reading it on the floor. “Just because Kai's part Filipino doesn't make him better at their magical practices. Is there Filipino magic by the way?”
“I don't know, I'll have to ask Alex,” Sommer said distractedly as she flung a blonde lock out of her face.
“Aunty V look,” Kai shouted as he held an open book up to me. “Aztecs could become animals.”
“Let me see that,” I took the book from Kai and examined the passage. “Nahualli, Aztec sorcerers who could use their animal twin, a Nahual, to collect other Nahuals and use their powers. This is fantastic, Kai, just what I was looking for.”
“Do you think we could do it?” His little dark eyes were glazed over with intensity. “Could we become animals?”
“I don't think it's literal,” I winked at him, “but I bet with some meditation, we could visualize them. They're supposed to be a twin spirit that everyone has,” I continued to scan the page as my mind raced with possibilities, “created at the same time as your birth. So just discovering what animal you have may be amazing.”
“Sweet!” He pumped his fist into the air before dropping to the floor. “I'm gonna start right now.”
“Vervain,” Sommer took my arm again, “We've practiced magic together for years. I know when something's up with you, especially when it has to do with witchcraft. What is it you always say? Don't get crafty with a witch.”
“There are things you wouldn't want to know,” I sighed. “Things that, if I were to tell you, you'd think I was crazy for saying. Sometimes ignorance really is bliss.”
“I'm a witch,” she gave me her mommy face. “I don't have time for bliss. Just give it to me straight.”
“Fine,” I sat down on the carpet and patted the ground next to me. “You may want to get comfortable for this.”
So I told her. As I spoke, I felt a tightness in my chest ease. Confiding in someone, sharing the struggle I'd been facing alone for so long, was cool water on my parched soul. You don't realize how much you need to speak about your life until you're unable to do so. Years of hiding things from the people I loved the most had taken its toll and I was so relieved to finally let it out. I didn't even care if she thought I was crazy.
As it happens, she didn't try to get me committed. She sat quietly for a bit, staring at Kai, who had been so immersed in his research, he hadn't heard a word I'd said. Then she took a deep breath and let it out.
“Well that explains a lot.”
“That's it?” I pushed her shoulder. “I tell you I kill gods and you say it explains a lot.”
“Well religion makes people stupid,” she stated blandly. “It makes sense that it's all a plot created by a bunch of power hungry Atlanteans.”
“Okay then,” I kind of felt let down that I didn't have to defend my sanity. I'd expected a bit more of a fight out of her.
“So,” she smiled and looked over at me. “You need any help?”
I may have started to cry a bit.
Chapter Forty
After the last dream I had with Blue, I did my best to barricade myself from him. As soon as he entered my dreams, I'd encase myself in a glass bubble and completely ignore him. He'd eventually go away. No one likes to be ignored. But after awhile of that, he started projecting images of us together all around my barricade. It was a low blow and it was hard to ignore, so I came up with my most cruel and brilliant move yet. I imagined Thor inside the glass with me.
It was cruel not only to Blue but to myself as well. While there, I was so happy. Through these interactions with Blue, my dreamworld had become almost as real as my waking one. So when I brought Thor into it, it was like he was truly there with me. All I had to do was think about him, picture him, and he appeared. But when I woke, I had to face the fact that I had ruined everything between us, all over again. I had to experience the aching loss of him as fresh as the first day.
Anyone who's been through heartache knows it's a pain you'd do almost anything to stop. I was drawing it out by dr
eaming of Thor, tearing open the wound every morning, and yet I continued to bring him into my dreams every night. Wouldn't you, though? If you could have your lost love back every night in your sleep, as real as if he were truly there, wouldn't you do it? Maybe I'm weak, maybe a bit pathetic, or maybe I'm just a masochist.
The first time I imagined Thor with me, Blue went into a rage. All I did was hug Thor, imagine his arms around me, his clean scent enveloping me. It was very PG but Blue reacted like I was performing a sexual act in front of him. He slammed himself into the translucent walls I'd erected, shouting things I couldn't hear but must've been real doozies. I ignored him and soon he faded out completely in light of the man holding me. I knew I missed Thor, knew I cared deeply for him, but I had no idea of the extent until he held me again. The dream Thor said everything I wanted him to say. Things like how much he missed me too, how he'd been foolish to let me walk out, how much he wanted me to come back. I had simply held him tighter and let all those beautiful words wash over me until I believed them, till I believed the lie.
Like I said, it was cruel to both of us but eventually Blue would leave and I'd be left alone with Thor. So I suffered the worst. I built a whole new relationship with my dream man. I told him things I couldn't tell the real Thor. I bared myself like I'd never done with a man before and my perfect dream Thor listened. He held me and whispered his secrets right back. It was the way I'd always wanted to be with a lover but had never allowed. There I could be free. I didn't have to worry about betrayal or the future. Anything was possible in my mind, that's what Teharon had said.
So night after night, I went back to Thor. Even after Blue stopped appearing. It got more and more intense. Long talks and passionate sex that would leave me shaking and wet when I awoke. It was so unhealthy for me. I knew that. I'd triumphed over Blue but had created my own Hell in the process. I needed to stop dreaming of Thor if I ever wanted a chance to move on. So I finally went to sleep intending to leave Thor out of it.
