The heavy rain poured down, washing the blood-stained leather armor, wiping the damaged small boats, and falling into the merciless river water, stirring up faint red ripples.
The world dimmed for a moment. The somber skies made the birds take cover, silencing the forest. Only a robust red falcon soared in the heavy rain, beating its powerful wings, alone in the vast sky. It circled the battling bipedal beasts and flew to the wooden fort on the north coast, surveying its territory. When it took flight again, riding the long wind beneath it, the skirmish on the river had subsided, and the sound of rain faded into silence.
Hundreds of Mexica boats hurriedly approached, surrounding the central revered figure, standing solemnly in the dwindling drizzle, waiting in silence.