Revelation of a Servant of Huehueteotl

by Czechlister

The mighty gods who sacrificed their divine flesh and blood to bring light and life to our people require their debt repaid. Within each beating heart there lies a fragment, the precious tona-tiuh, made of the Sun’s heat. The Tenochca people must return enough tona-tiuh, or the life-giving Sun will cease to appear in our skies and the world will come to a terrible end.

A devoted servant of the Lord of Sacred Fire, Huehueteotl, I have held these tenets dear for long years. I have released to the heavens many sacred tona-tiuh from within the divine chosen, the ixiptla. I have rejoiced with each tender stoke of sanctified obsidian blade, I have celebrated with each lick of consecrated red-orange flame. Each passing year that I sate the ravening hunger of Huehueteotl with the flesh and blood of my people, I fill with pride as a savior of beloved Tenochitlan.

When my youngest niece was offered up to Tlaloc, the mighty lord of the waters and robust health, I was full of pride that my sister’s family was considered so noble. I sang and danced with the others at the shrine where she arrived, bedecked in feathers and flowers on her litter. Crystalline tears winked from her round cheeks and I wept with joy at their sight, recognizing a sure sign of abundant rain to come, of which we were in dire need. There was no remorse in me when the priests of Tlaloc set her beating heart aflame in the brazier at the altar. I felt only inspiration at her gift of rain, and honored in her purpose to become teo-micqui, the Gods’ Dead.

But no rains have come, although many children gave their tears and hearts to Tlaloc. A fire was set raging within the sacred city, razing many homes to the ground and taking many lives. And yet, all the rituals of appeasement had been performed, with punctual perfection. And yet the gods deems us unworthy of relief from drought and use our homes as kindling.

And so remorse has come, and with a vengeance for being so delayed. A crack has appeared in the foundation of my faith, a fissure that is ever growing and deepening. The fierce currents of doubt and uncertainty have ripped me from my station as unfaltering worshipper, and plunged me into the depths of heresy.

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