章節 9: Chapter 9 Mobilization
The next day at noon, the sun was warm and dazzling. Xiulote, donned in a priest's robe, sat atop a miniature pyramid by the palace compound, gazing up at the majestic Pyramid of the Moon.
The decision of the Priesthood had spread throughout the city-state and nearby villages; the decision to deploy troops was unshakable! And today was the day for the mobilization speech, meant to inspire the morale of the warriors and the militia.
Xiulote looked up at the tall Pyramid of the Moon, where his grandfather Xutel, clothed in the heavy full attire of the High Priest, shimmered in gold, illuminating all directions.
To Xiulote, the Pyramid of the Moon held a special meaning; it was the place where everything changed.
Staring at the Pyramid of the Moon, the dazzling light seemed dreamlike, and he sank into some distant memories. Those were "past" memories, although they had begun to blur.
In that memory, he was a post-90s youth who loved history and geography, curious about the ancient civilizations of America, and had played as the Aztec countless times in Civilization and Europe scenarios. At 25, he finally had the chance to travel to Teotihuacan in Mexico, where he secretly climbed the Pyramid of the Moon at night.
That evening, he sat on the ruins of the temple at the top of the pyramid; it was pitch dark, the black night engulfing him.
The Milky Way was boundlessly vast, and coincidentally, the once in a decade Leonid meteor shower rained down. On a whim, the youth loudly made a wish to the shooting stars, "I wish to return to the past, lead the destroyed Indian civilization to rise again, defeat the invading European colonizers, and make America belong to the Indians!"
Before he could finish his sentence, darkness fell before his eyes, he collapsed to the ground, his consciousness fuzzed as he felt himself turn into a beam of white light, followed by endless dizzying movement and rapid changes in color, until he woke up unable to see this world anymore. He could only vaguely sense his surroundings, still in the ancient city of Teotihuacan, but there was much more life around.
He wandered in a blurry world, without purpose or direction, simply drawn by feeling to a secluded hut that held a massive attraction.
Passing through walls, he felt two connected lives, one a weak miscellaneous light, the other colorless specks. Guided by feeling, he merged into the colorless specks, a flash of white light sparked, and his consciousness blurred.
The next time he awoke accompanied by piercing cries, seemingly his own? He opened his eyes to see a low roof and two faces, one happy, the other sad. Black hair, yellow skin, the bent forms casting giant shadows in the moonlight, covering his tiny body.
Sorrow soon overtook joy, and he stopped crying, but heard another suppressed cry, a bent figure suddenly stood up, carrying him out of the room.
The cries gradually receded, the baby's brain unable to support much thought, he felt himself being carried to the edge of a pond, then water slowly overtook him. Had he been abandoned just after traversing?
The frail body coughed violently, unable to breathe, and he seemed to hear a new cry nearby. His consciousness gradually faded, the newborn body no longer feeling.
This time, he didn't wander aimlessly. Recognizing the scale of the buildings, he slowly drifted towards the most bustling and massive center, resisting the occasional attractions around him. He wandered around the center of the ancient city, finally feeling a new pull at the bustling palace compound, and merged into the colorless specks once again.
Waking up once more was accompanied by his own cries, and an uncontrollable laughter. The infant opened his eyes, a young and robust man was holding him aloft. His head adorned with a feather crown, his upright body dressed in a white cotton robe. A resolute face, also with black hair and yellow skin.
The high roof was painted with colorful characters and landscapes. A circle of people knelt around, grinning silently. On the bed lay a young woman, her laugh brimming with tears.
Soon, a richly dressed, stone-crowned middle-aged man hurried in, pushed away his little legs, then looked at his tiny speck with joy and laughed loudly, then spoke some incomprehensible words, a term repeated several times. Those surrounding also began to repeat this term, faintly distinct as, "Xiulote!"
Since then, he had a new name, Xiulote.
The middle-aged man from his memories now stood on the high platform, his face aged by time. Only the dazzling golden light illuminated the crowd below. Nobility, warriors, and commoners gathered from all directions at the base of the pyramid, listening to the High Priest relay the divine message.
"The Sun God, the War God, Huitzilopochtli's protected citizens. The bloodline of Huitzilopochtli, the new Tratuoani brings the command of the gods, asking you to take up arms, join the king's sacred coronation war, and capture the divinely chosen sacrifices, the weak Otomi from the north."
The imposing voice was relayed tier upon tier down from the Moon Pyramid, growing grander, until it enveloped the entire square and jolted Xiulote from his memories.
"Since the last holy war and the great sacrifice, twelve rainy seasons have passed. The Fifth Era's Sun had an agreement with us. He requires thousands of hearts to maintain the sky's light, or else the Sun will extinguish, and all things will wither. The time for sacrifice has come again!
The ground beneath our feet, Xipactli, also had an agreement with us. It allows corn to grow, nurturing all things, and we repay with blood, or else the grain will fail. The earth craves blood!
The world is balanced, the War God sustains the operation of the world. You all know, the population of the city-states is increasing, abandoned infants are becoming more frequent, and the food in our hands is diminishing! The world has lost its balance, the War God needs lives to prevent the world's destruction.
We have only one choice, to capture the lives of our enemies, sacrifice them to our guardians, this is a war to save the world!"
Limited productivity, scarce food, restricted demographic limits, and ever-growing populations. This is the historical cyclical law of Central America. Xiulote thought, it seems there are inevitable reasons for the endless wars and sacrifices.
The commoners discussed in panic, troubled by the Priest's terrifying prophecy. Fear was then channeled, transformed into a resolve to take up arms. The nobility and the warriors were still silent.
"In the name of the Guardian God, I swear: in this holy war, all young warriors, if you capture a captive alive, you will be promoted to a First Level Captor; capture two more, you advance to a Second Level Vastec Hunter; capture three more, to a Third Level Elite Fire Warrior; and capture four more, you become a true Fourth Level Veteran Warrior, eligible to join the Eagle Warrior Group or the Jaguar Warrior Group, becoming a First Level Warrior of military merit! They will be forever granted a fertile land by the city-state, even a Chinampa in the lake! All priests participating in the war will be similarly recognized."
The warriors erupted, cheering unclearly, some even drew their staffs and created sounds by striking their shields. Some newly ascended warriors of military merit also became excited at the mention of Chinampa.
"Our enemies are the weak Otomi, whose ancestors we easily expelled from the divinely granted Mexican Valley, killing them is as simple as pulling weeds. Yet today, these jackal-like creatures still threaten our valley, salivating over our fields. Only by thoroughly sacrificing them to the deities can we protect our most precious land.
The city-state of the Otomi is prosperous, filled with countless corn cakes, black bean paste, cocoa fruits, cotton fabrics, and various beautiful flowers, feathers, herbs, silver ornaments, gold ornaments, obsidian, and gemstones. Their city-state has no warriors, only sacrifices, slaves, and your future wives!"
The hereditary nobility were finally moved, the Great Nobility whispering among themselves, discussing the lacking luxury goods. Desire finally ignited in everyone's eyes.
"Warriors, for the covenant of the gods, for the glory of warriors, for our land, and for your wealth, join the holy war. The priests will be with you, in the name of the gods, we must win this battle!"
At that moment, except for Xiulote, everyone below the stage finally fell into senseless shouting and howling, eventually guided into earth-shaking cries: "War, war!"
The neat cheers resounded through the heavens, representing a certain national will. This scene was deeply ingrained in the eyes of a young boy, unforgettable.
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