Mami

Marigold made her way through the dark halls of her father's castle with crossed arms. She just couldn't understand why he was so in the defensive when she asked him about her mami. He either changed the subject, or looked for an excuse not to talk about it at all. She just wanted to know where she was. Ever since her first visit to the Land of the Remembered, she had countlessly heard that her father had been married to La Muerte, the former Queen of that place, but he never spoke about it either.

Asking other spirits didn't work either, they always avoided that topic for reason she couldn't understand, they simply told her that they were not the right people to tell her about the topic. So this meant that she would have the doubt for the rest of her life?

The four year old came to a great, black door that was miraculously not carved with serpents nor black skulls. She knew this door very well. Xibalba forbad her from going in there, and she couldn't understand why. Her curiosity would always gnaw at her wherever she passed by this door, but up to now she had always contained the urges to sneak inside and see what her father was hiding from her. Marigold looked around to see if Xibalba or anyone was around, and silently pushed the door open. It was very dark inside, but she nevertheless stepped in, closing the door behind her carefully.

She blindly walked down the passage, careful not to trip. She continued like this for a few more seconds before seeing a light ahead. Marigold ran towards the source of light, realizing it was the actual room; when she came to the chamber, she stopped when she saw its contents.

The walls were painted in a bright red outlined with golden shapes, unlike any of the other rooms in the castle. There was a pedestal in the middle of the room, adorned with roses and marigolds, including the little path of Marigold petals that led to it. All around the pedestal there were jars of lilies, roses and many other colorful flowers, overall her namesake flower. The room was lit with candles of soft pink fire, giving the flowers around them pinkish hues. Marigold approached the pedestal in curiosity when she saw what was on top of it.

There was a woman, the most beautiful woman she had ever seen, laying on top of the pedestal with closed eyes, her eyes on top of her chest, a smile in her scarlet lips. She wore a beautiful white dress with marigolds sewn on the collar and the end of the sleeves, as well as marguerites and lilies placed carefully in some places. She had long flowing black hair that nearly reached her knees, carefully combed and adorned with sunflowers, daisies and more lilies. Her eyelids were a dark blue color, contrasting her otherwise colorful appearance, and her beautiful face had golden swirly markings. Red pillows cushioned underneath the woman, as if to make her comfortable.

Marigold felt her brain itching at the sight; she knew this woman, but she didn't know how. Tiptoeing next to the pedestal, she reached out to touch her, but withdrew her hand quickly when she felt a coldness upon the woman's skin. Why was she so attracted to her? Marigold fidgeted with her own strands of black hair that reached her waist, before turning her attention to her little red dress with pink hearts.

Realization hit her.

She remembered where she had seen this woman before, in a portrait on the Land of the Remembered that hung in one of the halls. In that picture she wore a large red sombrero and a matching scarlet dress, but other than that, this was the same woman. This had to be La Muerte. But why did her father keep La Muerte's body in his castle…?

"I see you've found it."

Marigold jumped at the deep and familiar voice. Xibalba walked into the room, his hands behind his back, and approached the pedestal. Marigold wrapped her wings around herself and looked up at him in fear, thinking he would be angry at her, but she was surprised to see his eyes were sad and grief-stricken. Xibalba had gone to La Muerte's sanctuary seeking to be alone for the while and think what he would do about Marigold and her increasing curiosity about her mother, but he was astonished to find his daughter in there. What he had dreaded the most had finally happened.

"Are you mad, papi?" Marigold started to tremble; he had been very serious about the door.

"No, pequeña." Xibalba shook his head.

Although she stopped trembling, she couldn't help but as. "Who is she, papi?"

"I…" Xibalba sighed and closed his eyes, feeling the wound in his heart ripping open yet again. "That's La Muerte, your… your mami."

Marigold thought time itself had stopped when those words left her father's lips. Her eyes went open like plates, and she looked back at the woman atop the pedestal. La Muerte was her mother? Why was she in there and not outside with them? Of course, now she understood why everyone in the Land of the Remembered often whispered that she looked more like their former Queen.

"M-Mami…?" Marigold touched her mother's shoulder, but there was no response.

Xibalba placed a comforting hand on his daughter's shoulder. "Florecita, I know this must be hard for you, but-"

"Is she asleep, papi?"

He didn't know what to respond to that. "More or less, my dear."

"When is she waking up?"

That nearly did it. "She…" The dark god took a deep breath to try and contain his forming tears. "She won't wake up, Marigold." He closed his eyes shut. "She is dead."

Marigold gasped lightly at those words and stepped back, her back coming into contact with her father's cloak. She felt tears forming in the corners of her eyes. Xibalba had a feeling to what was happening, and he kneeled down to gently take his daughter's shoulders; Marigold reacted by turning around and wrapping her arms around her father's neck, burying her face into his chest. He was caught by surprise, but nevertheless returned the embrace and pulled her close. Xibalba swore he heard her sobbing.

"What happened to her, papi?" Marigold managed to ask between her sobs.

Xibalba felt that question like salt pouring into the wound in his heart, making it even more painful to speak about. But she had the right to know what had happened. "When you were about to come into the world, your mami had… complications."

Marigold pulled away from the embrace and looked up at her father in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"You're too young to understand it, Marigold, but the point is…" Xibalba closed his eyes shut. "She died when you were born."

As soon as she heard those words, Marigold burst out in tears. She embraced her father once more, burying her fact into his chest. Xibalba embraced his daughter gently.

"Shhhh… No llores, mi niña." Xibalba cooed, stroking Marigold's head softly. But that was easier said than done, when he himself was on the verge of tears.

"So it's my fault she's dead…?" she inquired.

"NO!" Xibalba pulled back and held his daughter by she shoulders, looking straight into her eyes. "Don't ever say that again, jovencita!" he couldn't fight back his tears anymore, "you're not to blame for what happened to your mother! No one is! What happened to her wasn't fair, but it happened, as much as it pains us both. That's why we have to stick together, mi pequeña…" Xibalba wiped his daughter's tears with his thumbs, then he embraced her once more. "You're all I have, Marigold. I wouldn't forgive myself nor live with the pain if something happened to you. I lost your mother, I wouldn't bear losing you too…" By this time, Xibalba himself was sobbing holding tightly unto his precious child.

Marigold sniffled and pulled back from her father's embrace for a while, wiping his tears with her smaller fingers and trying to smile a bit. "Please don't cry, papi, it makes me sad."

Despite the contradictory tears, Xibalba managed to give his daughter a smile as he pulled her close and stood up, holding her in his arms. Both glanced at La Muerte's peaceful state. After a few minutes, Xibalba turned around and, giving his deceased wife one last look for the time being, glided out of the passage.

"How was mami like, papi?"

Xibalba had taken his weeping daughter in his arms to his chambers, where he sat on his rocking chair and swayed it with his wings to soothe Marigold down, like when she was a baby. He had to admit, however, that he was caught off guard by the question.

"Your mami was the sweetest person in the whole pantheon." Xibalba replied with a smile. "She had a kind nature and would go out of her way to help those who needed, yet she had the ferocity of a thousand bulls if provoked. Her warm smile could lift up the spirits of anyone close to her, her voice was as sweet as a nightingale's, and her touch was soft and warm." His voice grew sad and longing. "La amaba mucho. More than anything. She was my everything, my heart, my light, my best friend."

"Did mami love me?"

"Of course she did, mi florecita." Xibalba spoke softly, wiping a lone tear from Marigold's cheek with his thumb. "She was very eager to meet you. When you were inside her tummy, she knitted pink shoes for you. She was certain you'd be a girl."

"I would have liked to meet her…"

Xibalba thought for a moment, before snapping his fingers. Ponzoña slithered down from his usual place at the hat stand and advanced towards his owner, who motioned him to get something from the bookshelves. Ponzoña didn't have to ask what book he wanted.

"What are you doing, papi?" Marigold inquired when Xibalba picked up a red tome from Ponzoña's jaws.

"There's something I'd like you to see." The dark god simply said, placing the album in his lap and opening it for his daughter to see.

Marigold's eyes widened when she saw the pictures in the first page. Two children spirits, one black with matching crow wings, the other white with contrasting black hair. "Who are those?"

"That's your mami and I when we were children." Xibalba chuckled. "At that time we were not even rulers of the realms."

"Can you tell me more, papi?"

Xibalba smiled as he shifted his daughter and the album in hold. "Where should I start?"