The god stared down at the floor blankly. Not a single whisper came from the children, and at that, he knew he had gone too far.
He had told them, right? He'd warned them that something bad would happen – that this story was not for the faint of heart.
Red eyes flickered up to look at them – there they sat, on the floor, mouths hung open and eyes wide in shock. They seemed to be in immense distress – he felt the same way.
"But that isn't right!," Sasha cried, being the first to speak up. "We saw La Muerte last year – and today! If she died then, how is she here now?"
The other kids were slowly pulled out of their stupor and nodded along with the girl's comment. It didn't make sense to them, and Xibalba could see why.
"I'll explain that later," he murmured, voice monotone as he tried to recollect himself. "I warned you all though, didn't I?"
The kids instantly nodded, and Xibalba sighed. "This is why I hate dealing with children," he grumbled under his breath. "None of you take people seriously until it happens…"
Yet another sigh. He glanced at the book, and turned the page. Thank the gods that the chapter he'd dreaded most was done.
"The museum's closing soon," he murmured. "Let's try and get as much done as possible, alright? So how's this…?" A pause.
He glanced between the kids for a moment before continuing. "How about we have no interruptions – like it's been so far – and we'll get more done."
The whole group nodded, and Xibalba turned back to the book. "Alright then. Where was I? Ah yes… While I was away, working harder than ever to keep the two realms in balance, the town of San Angel was dealing with their own little problem…"
Years flew by surprisingly fast after that day.
The town was thrilled to hear of the new, beloved daughter of the Sanchez house. Little Catrina was a sight to behold by all, and as she grew up, everyone could see how similar she was to her mother.
Catrina was quite the rebellious kid once she was able to walk, and always seemed to get into trouble. Every other day she would come home covered in mud or soaked in water, and she'd have a goofy grin on her face that would tell her parents immediately what she had done.
Her mother was fine with it. Manolo was a bit tense when someone came to them to complain, but he'd gladly let Maria take over. People continued to suggest taking Catrina to Spain for some 'straightening out', but Maria refused.
Catrina had her freedom, and after a while, the town got used to it. By the time she was eight, they were used to her crazy shenanigans.
The only day she wouldn't play around was on November 2nd. Her parents were quite surprised by her calm demeanor on the day – how she would kneel down with them to pray and would be more respectful and careful than all the other kids.
As she grew up though, she grew very mature. The young girl discovered the town's library one day, and began to spend every waking hour there.
Her father would find tons of notes about mythical subjects – the gods, the realms, stories and tall tales… It was nice that she found something she liked, but…
On this particular Day Of The Dead however, just a day after her thirteenth birthday, Manolo felt like Catrina was a bit too attached to the graves of her relatives – the ones she had never even met.
"Eh… novio – why don't you go and play with the other kids tonight," he murmured, tilting his head to look down at the girl.
Immediately, Catrina began to whine. "But Papá!" Amber eyes glanced over at the other children playing in the clearing. "I want to stay here with you and Mamá."
Manolo chuckled. "That's sweet mi hija, but I want you to try and explore for once." He tilted her head up to look at him. "For me? Please?"
A pause. The girl thought it over for a moment before sighed. "Okay. I'll go explore." At those words, Manolo grinned.
"Thank you sweetheart," he said, running a hand through her thick black hair for a moment before standing. "We'll be here – don't worry."
With a groan, Catrina stalked off. The bullfighter sighed as he watched her leave his line of vision, and jumped slightly when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
"Didn't listen to you again?" The sweet voice of his wife sounded in his ear, and he tilted his down to look at her lovely brown eyes.
"Yeah," he sighed. "It's just that… lately, it seems like she doesn't want to listen to anything I have to say." Maria chuckled, and Manolo shot her a confused look.
"She's at that age," she murmured. "You have to give her space to be herself – this is the time where she's trying to figure everything out."
Manolo scoffed. "She has plenty of time to be herself," he grumbled. "She's always in that library of hers, studying and reading and writing away… I'm just afraid that if she isn't more social she'll - "
Maria's hand came up to rest on his cheek, and he broke off. "She's fine. Just because she's a little bit secluded and likes to do things different from us doesn't mean something's wrong."
She was right. He was just getting worked up over nothing. He shot a small nod her way to let her know that he understood, and the pair returned to the memorials of their loved ones.
On the other side of the cemetery, Catrina was strolling through a deserted part of the clearing. She toyed with the fabric of her dress for a moment before turning to her hair – twirling it in her fingers.
Nothing interesting ever happened anymore. She remembered all the amazing stories her parents told her of what it was like before she was born.
They told her about the insane fights and bets, and how they took part in one of the greatest battles in history. A sigh left her lips. She wished those events were still happening. She would kill to see it all.
A small glance around the cemetery – there was a small, square grave. Catrina dragged her feet over to it and sat down, crossing her ankles and resting her chin in her hand as she began to think.
It was something she found herself doing often. Thinking helped her relax, and it always gave her wonderful, new ideas.
As she sat there, a soft green glow appeared in the corner of her eye. It immediately caught her attention, and her train of thought quickly derailed.
She turned her head, and what she saw caused her to gasp. It was one of the gods depicted in her books; the lord of the Forgotten – he was probably here for Dia De Los Muertos…
What she didn't understand was that he took no one took notice to him – he slithered through row after row of graves, glancing down at the people with a scowl on his face.
"That's odd," she murmured. "Am I the only one who can see him?" It was quite strange indeed – and that piqued Catrina's interest.
Slipping off of the grave, she slowly walked over to where he stood. He had pulled back from the giant group of people and was watching them in a secluded part of the cemetery.
Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and brushing some dirt off of her dress, she took another couple steps closer to him and cleared her throat.
Red eyes instantly flashed to look her way, but he didn't say a word. He probably assumed that she was looking for someone else – he then looked away, back to scanning over the graves.
Catrina cleared her throat again, and this time his head turned her way. "Hi there," she smirked, giving him a small wave.
His eyes grew wide and he stumbled back slightly. He was looking at himself – as if to check to make sure he was visible to her.
"Yeah, I can see you," Catrina continued, folding her hands in front of her. The god only stared at her as if he'd seen something frightening.
"I… I can see that," he muttered, arms slowly going behind his back. He quickly scanned her before pulling out his staff and leaning on it.
"You're Xibalba, right?" The god paused before giving the girl a curt nod. "I figured. I've read about you in my books."
A small sniff. He seemed quite uninterested in her at this point, and Catrina knew she had to say something else. It wasn't every day you got to speak to a god!
As she searched for something else to say, Xibalba scanned her again. "You're Manolo's kid, aren't you?," he grumbled. Catrina nodded.
"I'm Catrina," she chuckled, giving him a smile as she curtsied. That smile – it was so pretty… Xibalba's eyes narrowed slightly, and he leaned forward.
"Where'd you get that?," he suddenly hissed, a spindled finger coming out to point at the pendant around her neck.
Catrina looked at it and touched it with her fingertips for a moment before speaking. "Papá gave it to me on my second birthday," she said, tracing the edge of it with her finger.
"He said it belonged to your wife." Xibalba immediately cringed; so it was what he thought it was. "He told me that she lost it in a battle – a battle where she had to be very courageous and strong."
Catrina's head turned up to look at the god with a smile. "I've read a lot about the gods," she said. "And I've always wanted to strive for greatness and do what's best for my people."
Amber eyes flickered down to look at the medal. "I want to be strong, courageous, beautiful, smart, and kind… Just like her."
At those words, Xibalba cringed – his wings were pressed tightly against his back, and he was clutching his staff so hard that it looked like it would snap at any moment.
"That's nice," he grumbled, voice strained. He hated being reminded of his wife – every word that related to her, no matter how small, made him cringe.
And right now, standing before this girl, felt strange – familiar even. Here stood another person who wasn't afraid to smile at him and be kind – gods – he hated it so much.
"So – what do you want?," he asked, beginning to grow quite disgusted from their conversation. "If you're here to talk about my wife, I have no business with you."
Catrina paused for a moment to think – this was a big opportunity, and she was ruining it. Brushing some stray strands of hair away from her face, she blinked up at him with curiosity.
"I was actually hoping you could answer a few questions for me," she smiled. "My father never had an answer for what I asked him, so…" A small shrug.
Toying with the fabric of her dress, she bit her lip. "Over the last couple of years, I've noticed I was different than the other kids – Mamá and Papá noticed it and thought something was wrong with me, but I never thought so."
She placed a dainty hand over her stomach before continuing. "I was born with a strange birthmark right here," she murmured. "It - "
Xibalba scowled, causing her to grow quiet. "A birthmark – wow. I agree with your father completely, something is absolutely wrong with you…"
He rolled his eyes and turned away from her. She was wasting his time. He could be leaving this wretched place – he could be at home with a glass of wine in his hand.
"I see things."
The god froze, head tilting slightly to look back at her. "Everyone does kid. What do you see that's so special?"
Catrina folded her hands in front of her again. "I see you guys," she murmured. "I know that the gods watch over the town – I see them all the time." She looked at him. "Especially you."
Xibalba felt his heart stop. She couldn't be serious – seeing gods? That wasn't something a mortal could just… do.
"You hang around that clearing over there," she muttered, pointing over to a large empty part of the cemetery. "Papá told me that was where the battle took place – I could tell. You mourn your wife there all the time, don't you?"
His eyes narrowed slightly, and he gave the girl a reluctant nod. "I do," he grumbled. "That was where she died."
The girl stayed silent, looking over to the clearing as if trying to picture what the battle looked like. It must have been quite violent, them being gods and all.
"What other things do you see?" Her head shot up to look at the god as he spoke, and she gave him a small shrug.
"I also have weird dreams, but Mamá said that's just my imagination." Catrina shrugged. "I agree – I think a lot and read tons of books, so…"
Weird dreams, a strange birthmark – oh gods, what else? What trauma did this child go through to experience all these things?
The god leaned heavily on his staff – she had his attention now. "Interesting," he muttered. He had to learn more – this girl – there was something quite intriguing about her.
Xibalba opened his mouth to speak, to ask her what exactly she saw, but froze at a nearby voice calling out to her.
"Catrina!," called a man's voice. "It's late. Time to go home!" The young girl looked back over her shoulder, a sigh leaving her lips.
"Papá's calling," she murmured. "I need to go." She looked up at the god with a small smile. "It was really nice to meet you – you aren't as mean as the books said."
She laughed a little – Xibalba narrowed his eyes, confused. "Maybe we'll cross paths again," he grumbled. "Then you can tell me all about your little quirks…"
He meant it as a joke, obviously, but was surprised to see Catrina nodding. "That would be great! Yes!" She took a few steps back.
"Maybe if I see you again, I'll tell you about my dreams." A quick roll of his eyes, and Xibalba crossed his arms. Sure – it seemed like quite a rare possibility that they would meet again.
"Bye - " The girl dashed off through the graves, making her way to her parents with a smile on her face. She finally got to meet one of the gods she saw in her dreams.
This answered so many questions.