Uprise of the Rebellious Princess

Battle Scars To Hold

The sun was dying on the horizon of the western mountains. The red hues tainted the blue of the heavens. Clouds were splattered with the blood of the perishing sun capitulating to death for another afternoon. And as the day was defeated once more, the buildings in the city turned crimson in color. Her view was spectacular. Atotoztli always loved her balcony and its privileged view. The open balcony was immediately in front of her chambers. She only had to cross the wide hallway to lounge at her favorite place in the Palace. Ordinarily she preferred to seat at the small parapet, leaning her back at the column. Other days she just preferred to lean forward as she rested her elbows against the parapet wall. But today she was standing, her right hand holding onto her favorite column. Atotoztli looked upon her city's skyline. People were still lingering even when the festivities had ended. She loved such events, not only for a chance to dance but to see people jubilantly gathered. Music was still emanating from the High Temple, a now high-paced drum beating solo. Smoke columns emanated from each corner of all levels of the teocalli. A thicker smoke of sacred tobacco rose from the summit, where the golden sacred chamber was located. The demise of the sun poured a special color, beautifying the city where all buildings were white and few red. It was an unearthly experience which Atotoztli loved to see. From her vantage point she could see the entire city: the upper hill where homes and buildings seated, the slopes descended to Colhuacan's downtown, then to the lower marshy banks of the lake. The city had many small hills, but generally the urban sprawl lean down west of the larger hill. Atotoztli was in the center of it. She turned westward, where she could see reflected in the calm waters of the Great Lake the epic struggle where the Sun was battling darkness. Two fiery arrows were sent by Tonatiuh across the sky in a desperate attempt to vanquish the night. The solar arrows pierced various clouds. A vibrant sensation was felt inside her as she witnessed such wonders. And as the heavens battled overlordship for the Earth, the peaceful waters were barely interrupted by the returning boats to the city's piers. What a sight! If her eyes could, she would devour such grandeur. If her hands could, she would treasure those heavenly colors. But then Atotoztli thought that the endeavor of capturing this world's beauty would prove folly for greatness cannot be kept constrained in safekeeping. There are moments that only belong to the short time and the fortunate place where they happen. Mementos can be grasped, but merely as blurry shadows and distant whispers of a moment long gone.

"Oh, are we mere spectators to such marvels of the world?" she thought.

Her eyes turned to the Main Square, where she noticed her father and city notables walking toward the Palace.

"Are we also quiet spectators of our own unfolding life?" Atotoztli questioned.

Finally, a last solar arrow was thrown by the sun in vain as it died and fell victim of obscurity.

“Such demise is glorious,” she thought.

“Atotoztli,” said a voice behind her. She turned and saw two palace workers standing a few paces from where she stood. "Your father requires your presence immediately."

She was intrigued, but not surprised. Probably he did catch a glance of her with Yacanex. She thanked both men. They bowed with a hand-on-heart salute and withdrew from the balcony's hallway. As she walked away from the balcony, she turned back to see the victory of the night over light. Ocotl city lights started to be burnt, illuminating the streets. Atotoztli sighed deep and carried on towards her father.

She enjoyed going downstairs with great stamina and haste. Many like her who love to run down the stairs than the slow burdensome path upstairs, which might appear as avoiding hardships. In reality, it is because such people relish upon the unpredictability of dangerous steep trails. For the Lady of Colhuacan, this was more the true, for she went down readied for any tiff. Atotoztli was about to enter the Chamber of the Seat when she overheard someone else with his father. She eavesdropped just behind the threshold of the door, hidden by the curtain’s drape.

"Yes, without a doubt."

"If this is proven certain, dire consequences will descend upon my city."

"And what of him?"

"I don't know yet. I have to ponder on how to deal with him."

"Yes, little grandson."

"But have him watched! The least I want is a problem out of this."

"We'll make sure he does not meddle in your stately affairs."

"Bah! Not from him! The cretin is a nobody from whom I couldn't expect much brilliance than courting a noble lady. And what a lady he has chosen!"

"Then from whom do you expect to have your lordly affairs troubled?" interrupted Atotoztli. "Tell me, father!" Both were greatly surprised by her unexpected entrance and appalling audacity. "Perhaps from the great Xolotl himself?" she asked, empowered by the insulting way they were demeaning Yacanex.

"Oh! Our dearest Atototzin! Oh, little grandmother –" said Tecpactl.

"Shut up!" she interrupted once more, holding her raised index finger at him as she walked towards her father, "Remember who are you talking to. Restrain uttering your foul words in my presence."

"Yes, my lady!" said Tecpactl.

"Hush, I said!" she replied.

 "Atotoztli!" her father bursted in anger, "What right –?"

"Every right I have earned as a descendant of a lineage of cowardly mice," she abruptly said.

"Tecpactl, leave us!" his disturbed father said.

"No, do stay!" she said, "As chief advisor to this realm's security you should stay! You know why? I think I have plenty of right to sit in that oh-so-coveted seat, perhaps I should depose my own father and install my full authority! If not me, anyone might come and take it anyway. Right father?"

"Have you turned mad? Why has evil taken you all of the sudden?"

"Are you honestly making me that question? Or have I turned deaf?"

"Sire –" Tecpactl said.

"What? Are you going to have me executed like you recently have enjoyed so much?" she interrupted his father’s aide. "You and my father have lately relished at our enemy's spilled blood so much, that you ought to find a female companion with haste to quench your uncouth thirsts! Or a better hobby!"

"Atotoztli! Are you trying to end my life with such insolence?" her father panted with difficulty, leaning a bit to the side.

"Are you trying to end mine? Do not pretend anymore! Show your true face."

"About what? That filth of an acquaintance of yours?" he shouted as he hurled his ceramic cup to the floor, spilling his chocolatl.

"Yes, call him all names you wish! What other clever names did you come up with those crawling critters that surround you?"

"An opportunist scoundrel, of course! What is wrong with you Atotoztli? Have you no eyes to see what he is up to?"

"What is he up to?"

"Your position! He seeks leverage to climb himself to our level!"

"Really? I thought you were worried he was after my ass?"

"What idiotic things! Do you think I have a twisted mind like him?"

"No! More like your crawling worms who dare call themselves pipiltin, ardently yearning for my untouched body!"

"With such animal of yours, I am disgusted to imagine you may be untouched no more."

"Too bad for your friends. But no, he is a true friend and has done nothing but to touch my heart!"

“What nonsense, Atotoztli! Please snap out of this!"

 “I did! And realized that it is him whom I love!"

 “You are too young to love. You don't even know what love is."

 "I know for sure love is not telling me to whom should I bend over."

"Listen to me! I am your father!"

"Yes, your are."

"And you should respect me. What kind of a daughter are for you to be insulting like this."

"I heard how you were expressing about him."

"So what! I can express about him or whomever I want as I see fit!"

"Because you are the Tlatoani of this city?"

"I don't care about it!"

"Then why wouldn't you let me be myself, and choose my friends."

"Oh, he surely is no friend. Atotoztli, you are turning into such a great and esteemed lady, you may have a wonderful man to love to. Any man!"

"But not him?"

"Surely not him! Just, as a favor, please cut any ties with him! Return to your senses! I plea upon you as your father."

"But this is what my heart wants."

"But you're wrong! Can't you see!"

"How can I be wrong on what I want?"

"Because you're too young to tell. This may be a fleeting love experience, I can accept that. But listen to me, and end this at once."

She could not feel any strength anymore, and so she started crying. She had resisted not to show what she considered weak emotions. Her accumulating tears blurred her sight, her lips trembled, and her hands were cold. She cleared her tears and could discern his father with great red eyes and clutched hands. As she grabbed her nervous hands, she could hear murmurs behind her. She turned, and a gathering of men and women were astonished at was happening.

"Make way!" said Ilancueitl as she pushed the palace workers behind the threshold.

"What do you want here?" said Achitometl with a broken voice.

"What do I want? What does she want?" replied Ilancueitl. "Father, she is disrupting the whole palace with her nonsense."

"Please, leave!" Achitometl said.

Her sister was leaving, but stopped and turned towards Atotoztli, "It has to be always about you."

"Mind your troubles, sister" wept Atotoztli.

"You trouble me with your uncourtly attitude. Why do you have to create such upheaval in our father's house? You're breaking protocol."

"All I want is to be left alone!" Atotoztli answered back, feeling cornered and desolate in this struggle.

"It is always about what you want! When will you be woman enough to fulfill your role of Cihuatecutli for your people? Leave your petty, childish reactions behind and act according to your status," Ilancueitl lectured her.

"I pity you," said Atotoztli with a lowered voice, uneasy with the conversation.

"Of what?" her sister asked.

"For having such a pathetic close-minded view of life."

"I owe to my duties as junior Cihuatecutli of this city! Duties I so much honor, while you dishonor all of us and your people with that boy you found."

"I think of no greater dishonor than the attitude my own kin has shown to me."

"It is your attitude that dishonors the House of Colhuacan. How can you permit this, father? Will you let such a low-life scoundrel upset your family?"

"Atotoztli, please react upon your acts!" their father pleaded yelling.

"You listen to her words, but not those of my own?" Atotoztli protested.

"Very well, Atotoztli! Speak! What is it you want?" said his father with annoying sarcasm, "Now what? Huh?"

Atotoztli sighed as she looked at his irate eyes penetrating only darkness into her own. Oh, her heart ached, moving faster than she could ever notice. And her hands, her lovely hands suffered small tremors. Her gentle throat jolted the weeping tears that traveled so far, and a light dizziness shook her reality. "Please! I beg upon you, father, lord… let me be as I wish. All I ask is to continue my friendship with Yacanex!" she barely uttered amongst the drowning cries. Her yielding fatigued voice plunged her into a defeated sadness. Atotoztli felt the weighty gaze of his father’s judging eyes. His anger was present, but even more his disappointment in his semblance.

"That's his name, then!" He said, as he turned towards Tecpactl and nodded.

 "Little grandfather, Achitometzin. He is a Chichimec communal organizer at the small town of Tepetlaoztoc and its surroundings. My sources tell me he has no reason to be at our city."

"'A name we ought to remember' so was expressed by Tzontecomatl,” said Achitometl. “Whatever impression he garnered from him is of no importance now, for his words certainly prove fulfilled."

"Father… I really like him."

"What is to like from this individual. Have you not heard his full and detailed biography?" her father mocked. "We don't even know who his parents are? What good do you see of worth? For I certainly don't see a gallant man of good looks? Have you perhaps turned blind, Atotoztli?"

"Come to your senses!" insisted Ilancueitl.

"How can I be wrong about my own feelings?"

"Control them!" scolded her father. "Can't you control yourself, Atotoztli?"

"No!" She shouted, with all the strength she could muster from within her weary body. Her cry resonated through all the halls and passages of the Palace. People gathered at the threshold of the entrance to the Court of the Seat had terrified semblances; more came with intentions of aid. Her father attempted to calm everyone with hand gestures. But Atotoztli could see the palace workers truly affected for they had always been her friends and companions. Her sister leaned towards the wall with judging eyes. "No!" yelled again Atotoztli, panting and weeping in agony, “I will not control my feelings! I do not want to restrain myself in any manner. Not for you, not for my city, not even for glory or downfall. Not even for him. Love should not be tied upon restraints of any sorts. And if such intentions descend on me by worldly hands, I shall sternly defy them. Still, if fate lucubrates by heavenly design, I am to hold onto my heart's affections. If these actions of mine are not suitable for your stately machinations nor for those of the heavens, let the rain of penance pour upon me. But let it be clear for you to know, to my city, to the heavens above us, and the otherworlds too, I will not surrender this caring love for petty nuances like power or death. Perhaps your small minds believe I care for such? Is it that you ignore what my love will make me do? You do not know the extent of love! Surely, all of you posit love as having limits. But oh ignorants of love, you prove to know nothing about the extent of the will. Love survives the ages, permeates through the worlds, and breathes after time dwindles, not for love itself but by the will of the heart. My heart one day will perish and rot easily after the passing of many winters, but its will, my will, shall survive these times. And you still reckon I will give any interest to your foul words? Are you hearts still unmoved?"

"Listen, Atotoztli –" growled his weary father.

"Hush, you heathen of love!" she swiftly replied. "I may be now contrary to your lordly rule, and you are as of today enemy of my heart."

She straightened up and was about to dry her weeping tears off her face, but she reconsidered and lowered her hand.

Tears of love are battle scars to hold.

Each tear was deeply meant to leave.

None rolled down for a trivial jolt,

Only when the aching heart bleeds,

Rasping down as a silent ode for love.

And it was so that she walked out of the Court of the Seat with a slow pace, proudly bearing the watery marks of her struggle.

As she passed, the clustered people gave her way in the most respectful manner. Some men even bowed with such care, that they fully kneeled as she passed. Some women wept a tear or two for her. And just as she was leaving, she stopped one final time and turned towards her sister and father. He was indignantly bent in his thoughts. Ilancueitl simply shook her head in negation. And so without uttering more words Atotoztli the brave left.