Danger

Marigold made her way through the ashy terrain of her father's kingdom, looking for something to do. Some way to go to the Land of the Living, since her father wouldn't take her, claiming she was yet too young to go. She was six, she was a big girl now! However, she was starting to regret this decision; it was freezing outside, and she hadn't taken a coat nor scarf. She was trying to use her wings to keep herself warm by wrapping them around her body, but it was no use. Perhaps it would be best that she returned home, or she would turn into a popsicle, or even worse; her father would be mad at her.

While she didn't fear Xibalba, for she had never known the darker side of him, she had never liked to make him sad or angry. Mutually, Xibalba hated to see his little one cry or sob; he would never dare to yell, let alone raise his hand against her. No, he knew La Muerte would have never forgiven him if he ever struck their child.

Finally, Marigold couldn't stand the cold anymore, and decided to return home. As she turned around on her heels to go back from where she came, but she found that the path had been blocked by jagged rocks that grew out of sudden. Great, she'd have to find another way back to the castle before she froze to death. Marigold walked through the labyrinth-like realm, watching at the depressing landscape and its gray scale monotony. Definitely, she preferred the Land of the Remembered, it was livelier, more colorful, happier, and it didn't freak her out.

She felt she was going in circles for hours, though only half an hour had actually passed. Her father would be worried-sick about her, she needed to get back as soon as possible. She walked through a small crevice that led who knows where, and when she came out on the other side she nearly had a heart attack. In front of her, there was small crowd of Forgotten, with their characteristic emotionless, depressing faces, and their black and green coloration. Immediately, she started to tremble; she had seen Forgotten before, when her father 'welcomed' them to his realm, but other than that, she didn't really interact with them much. But maybe they knew their way to her father's castle.

"H-Hello?" She called out for them timidly.

No reply, they didn't even turn to look at her. They continued with their moans and sighs of regret and depression.

"Excuse me?" Marigold approached the group fearfully, her wings tightening themselves against her body. "I'm lost and I can't find the way back…"

Nothing yet.

"Hello?" she took one more step forwards, reaching out to touch the nearest Forgotten; but as soon as her fingers touched the black bones, the spirit turned into dust and the remains lost themselves in the air. Marigold stepped back in fright just was the Forgotten dissolved away into oblivion, calling the attention of the others, but their green eyes set on her.

"H-Hello…" Marigold gulped. "I'm sorry if your friend turned into dust."

They said nothing for a while, until one of them spoke. "Whooo are yoouu?"

"My name is Marigold. What's your name?"

"Naame?" the spirit thought for a few seconds, then minutes, until he spoke again. "I dooon't remember…"

"I'm lost, mister."

"We too." Another Forgotten lamented. "We don't know where we are going, but we just walk around and around…"

"I'm looking for my papi's castle. I can't find it."

"Papi? Castle?" a third Forgotten trembled. "Are you Lord Xibalba's daughter?"

When Marigold gave a positive answer, the spirits looked at one another, before looking back at her.

"Our apologies, your highness, but we do not know how to return there. We don't even remember which places we have already passed by." The Forgotten who had spoken first said. "All we can tell you is to be careful."

"Careful?" Marigold gulped. "Careful of what?"

"The monsters that come and torment us endlessly will be here soon. Run, run away now that you can. If they catch you, they'll kill you."

"What monsters?"

Deep animalistic growls echoed in the air, and the Forgotten grew fearful; one of them started shoving Marigold, motioning to run away. "Go now! They're here!"

"But what about you?!" Marigold retorted in worry.

"Go!"

Realizing she had no other choice, Marigold ran away through a stony path, leaving the group of Forgotten behind. Suddenly, the growls turned into roars, and intertwined with agonizing screams of terror echoing through the air once more. But the danger did not end it, for soon she heard the mysterious monsters coming after her. She wished she could fly, but her father had not yet taught her.

Marigold dashed through the rough terrain and the pointy jagged rocks, receiving cuts and scraps on her little arms, legs and wings, even one on her cheek. Her sky blue dress was ripped by the sharpness of the rocks, and she even tripped once, scrapping her knees. Marigold bit her lip and felt tears forming in the corners of her eyes, but she nevertheless quickly stood up and continued in her run from the beasts. But they were gaining on her, and licking their chops in delight.

Finally, her legs could go no further and she tripped, falling on her belly unto the hard stone. When she heard the roars of the creatures getting louder, and realizing she wouldn't escape from them in time, Marigold braced herself for the gruesome attack, instinctively crying out. "PAPI, HELP ME!"

She expected the blow, but it never came. Instead, she heard the sound of thunder claps and flapping of wings. But she was too scared to open her eyes.

"GET AWAY FROM MY DAUGHTER!"

Xibalba landed between Marigold and the Forgotten beasts, his pupils rotated forward, his wings spread and his teeth turned into fangs. Immediately after finding themselves under the demonic fury of their lord, most of the Forgotten beasts ran away into the darkness of the realm once more; the others who were foolish enough to try and attack him paid it dearly. By simply snapping his fingers, Xibalba made jagged rocks sprout form the ground in the blink of an eye, going through the monsters. The beasts wriggled around in pain before becoming still, then turning into dust.

Marigold's little heart was still drumming inside her chest, but she managed to turn around and sit down, wincing at her fresh cuts. As soon as he was certain there were no more dangers, Xibalba's attention centered on his daughter. "Marigold, are you okay?!" he kneeled down and examined her wounds.

"I… I…" Marigold's eyes were tearing up with fright, but she couldn't move nor speak. "I'm okay…"

Xibalba embraced his daughter tightly, relieved that she was safe and sound, save for the injuries she had obtained while running away. However, he soon turned angry, took his daughter by the shoulders and glared into her eyes. "What were you thinking, Marigold?! They nearly killed you! Why did you run away like that?! Do you have any idea of how worried I was?!" he snapped with sharp teeth.

Marigold couldn't take it anymore. She burst out in tears and wrapped her arms around her father's neck, sobbing uncontrollably, staining his armor with tears and a bit of mucus. Though still angry at her for endangering herself, Xibalba softened up and returned the embrace, pulling Marigold closer to him and stroking her head.

"Shhhhh. It's okay, pequeña. Aquí estoy."

"I'm scared, papi…" Marigold managed to speak between her sobs, nuzzling against is chest.

"It's all over now. estás a salvo, mi niña." He picked her up and stood up. "But how about we go back home and treat those bruises?"

Marigold nodded. Xibalba spread out his wings and took flight, holding tightly unto his daughter's little body, heading in the direction of his castle. Marigold buried her face into his neck and snuggled deeply into his embrace, feeling safe in his warms. None of the two said anything during the way back to the castle, although for different reasons.

Once they were back, Xibalba took Marigold to his chambers, a bowl of cool water and a pile of cloths waiting for them. The dark good placed his daughter on his bed, and started cleaning her wounds from the ash and dust debris she had gotten on her run; Marigold winced slightly at the feeling of cold water stinging gingerly against her wounds. When he was certain the scrapes were clean of debris, Xibalba picked his daughter up in his arms once more and took her to the bathroom; the bathtub was filled with warm water and soap. Marigold didn't protest as her father removed her torn dress from her and set it aside, but she did wince a bit when he placed her into the bathtub and the soapy water stung her wounds much worse than the cool water.

Xibalba proceeded to bathe Marigold, gently rubbing her body with a sponge, cleaning the cuts and bruises as gingerly as he could, wiping off all the dust and ash in his daughter's body and wings. Marigold was waiting for her father to say something, anything, but he was silent and serious, making her fear the worst. What if he was really mad at her? Despite her doubts, she didn't utter a word herself, but she felt relieved at having all of the dirtiness wiped off her body, though she couldn't help but wince at the soap disinfecting her cuts and bruises.

After Marigold was completely clean, Xibalba lifted her from the now murky water and wrapped a towel around her before she started to tremble. He still didn't speak as he dried her gently, dressed her up in her pajamas, and wrapped her in furs and blankets. Cocooned and warm, Marigold snuggled deeply into her father's arms, as Xibalba glided to his rocking chair, and took seat. After a while, Marigold gathered the courage to speak.

"Are you mad, papi?" she whispered, trembling.

"…No." Xibalba finally spoke, although his voice was very serious. "I'm not mad at you, Marigold. I'm just disappointed that you disobeyed me, intentionally. You really had me worried, I was fearing the worst."

"I'm sorry, papi… I just wanted to go outside..."

"May I know what were you thinking? You knew that it was dangerous to roam around, I told you many times not to go beyond the bridge, but you still disobeyed me. I want to know why."

Marigold hesitated to tell him, but the way he was looking at her made her mouth automatically move. "I wanted to go to San Ángel."

There was a small wave of shock on Xibalba's face, but soon he regained his composure. "San Ángel?"

"I wanted to see where you and mami met, but I got lost…"

"Marigold, first of all, San Ángel is in the Land of the Living, way above this place. You would have never gotten there from here. You need my help or the Candlemaker's to get to the Land of the Living."

Marigold started trembling, upon remembering the growls of the Forgotten beasts and the screams of agony from the Forgotten souls as they were devoured. Xibalba pulled her closer upon feeling her shivering.

"It was scary, papi…" Marigold buried her face into her father's chest once again, starting to sob.

"Shhh, ya, ya, pequeña." Xibalba cooed as he wiped a tear from Marigold's cheek with his thumb. "I'm here, I won't let anything happen to you."

None of them said anything else for a while, for what seemed like hours. It made Xibalba recall when Marigold was born, when she was a baby, when she completely depended on him. Marigold's sobs eventually grew silent, and she wished she could stay like this forever; she felt this was the most secure place in the whole universe.

"Marigold, I want you to promise me something."

Marigold looked up at her father with still glossy eyes. "What is it, papi?"

Xibalba stared with seriousness into his daughter's eyes. "Promise me you'll never do something like this again."

Marigold could feel her father's grip tightening on her as he said those words. She didn't know what to say, but she didn't like the seriousness in his voice nor his eyes. It would be best to agree to what he asked of her. After what happened, she didn't want to ever set a foot outside, anyway.

"I promise, papi."

"Thank you, mi florecita." Xibalba's mood softened up, and he kissed his daughter's cheek softly. "Now you should rest. It has been a long day, and you must be tired, am I right?" he smiled lightly at the last remark.

Marigold nodded, and let out a small yawn, her eyelids heavy, her body suddenly relaxing from being tense for so long. The little goddess closed her eyes and was soon fast asleep; the last thing she felt before drifting off was her father's wings embracing her.