"Entre los individuos como entre las naciones, el respecto al derecho ajeno es la paz." –Benito Juarez

Translation: "Among individuals as among nations, the respect to other people's rights is peace."


Prologue

Spain had been many things in his long life as a country. His personal favorite was being a conquistador, sailing the seas and conquering various parts of the New World. His most important and time-consuming job, however, was babysitting his colonies. Before it was only Romano, who wasn't the cutest kid around, but now Spain took in more kids. One of them was named Mexico. Well now she referred to herself as such, but before she won her independence, Spain called her New Spain. She may have been a child, but she was wise and mature for her young age.

Spain had a difficult history with her mother. She was cold towards him and wanted nothing to do with him when they first met. Over time they grew closer, and Aztec allowed her walls to come down. Unfortunately, their friendship ended before it could truly start. Aztec caught a deadly disease known as smallpox.

Before Aztec died, she gave Spain authority to take care of her child. She didn't trust anyone else. So Spain did as he was told by the great country and took in the young one. He renamed the child New Spain in order to keep Cortés happy and off his back. He took care of her as his own daughter only because he felt guilty for taking her only parent's life. His presence in the New World is the reason why the Aztec as well as the Inca and Mayan Empires crumbled. If it weren't for him, they would have been alive, especially Aztec, who would have loved nothing more than to see her daughter grow up into a strong country.

One memory haunted him the most, even seeing Aztec moments before she passed never scarred him like this memory. It was a humid and rainy day, he recalled. The raindrops made noise on his hat that he wore crossing the seas. One by one the men walked to the gallows. Their faces were stoic and unchanging, even when the Spanish conquistadors tightened the ropes around their necks. They were all found guilty for planning an ambush on some of Spain's men the other day. Their plans were leaked, and the Spanish men captured them instead. One man name Itzcoatl led the others. He had no regrets about his actions nor did he flinch when the Spanish manhandled him. But one person did get an emotion out of him.

When Itzcoatl's eyes landed on Aztec, he fell to his knees and began to plead. Though his hands were tied behind his back, he bowed before the woman, begging for her forgiveness and life. He claimed to have done his actions in the honor of their people. Spain looked back and forth between the man and country. Aztec looked heart-stricken like she was the sole reason he was being sent his death. She couldn't form words only look down at him in pain. When the Spanish guards pulled him away from the two countries, Itzcoatl began yelling in their mysterious language like calling back a former lover that had rejected his love. Aztec couldn't bear the thought of seeing such a loyal man die even if she had never met him before. Itzcoatl did everything out of love for his country, for Aztec.

He died on October 31, 1521. Spain remembered the day well. Itzcoatl was hung, and his body was left for the native birds to feast on as well as showing the crowd what could happen if you fall out of line with the Spanish. The crowds were so quiet, so scared to start a riot with Cortés that everyone heard his spine snap when he fell.

A bloodcurdling scream followed the noise. It was Itcoatl's sister Malintzin. She ran out in front of the gallows, running up to her brother's dead body. She cried and cried as the crowd scattered their own ways in different directions. Spain stayed with Aztec, who couldn't find the energy to move her legs or any other part of her body from the horrible sight. She just stood there with a mixture of tears and rain running down her beautiful face.

The screaming settled down, and Malintzin walked to Aztec with so much confusion and sorrow in her eyes. She couldn't understand how Aztec, their beloved nation, allowed such retched monsters such as the Spaniards to kill valiant warriors. Malintzin just added more pain to Aztec. Her heart was already weighed down with sadness and guilt. She couldn't do anything about the situation. If she told Cortés to stop hurting her people, she would be accused of treason, and more blood would be shed. Aztec was just much of a victim in all of this as everyone else. Actually, she was more of a prisoner. Her chains were invisible though. Cortés locked her in her room all day. She only came out with Cortés too. He didn't trust Spain to be alone with her anymore. He sensed something in Spain; that his country gained feelings for the savage one.

"I'm sorry, so sorry for your brother, but there isn't anything we- I could've done," Aztec finally spoke up, speaking in Spanish. Malintzin took a step back in disgust. Aztec shut her eyes tightly. She knew she messed up by speaking in the foreigners' language instead of theirs. It was the last straw with Malintzin.

"You betrayed us. You betrayed us!" Malintzin screamed at the top of her lungs. She turned her attention to Spain, who was standing to the side, watching the scene unfold. "It's him! You traded your people's lives for his acceptance!" Then the woman looked at Spain with so much disgust it scared him instantly. The Spaniard looked at Malintzin but quickly changed his glance to Aztec. The woman's image burned into Spain's memory. Her black hair was unruly, covering half of her face. Her eyes that were full of hate were almost as dark as her hair, but only emptiness and death were seen in them. Malintzin could have been beautiful once, but in front of Spain was a distorted woman filled with madness caused by her demented lifestyle.

She kept on blaming Aztec for letting the Spanish take over their land. Aztec just took the words and accusations head on. At one point, Malintzin took out a sharpened piece of bone hidden in her clothes between her shouts and ran towards Spain. If she killed him, the conquest would be over in an instant. Spain reached for his sword, waiting for the collision.

But the woman spotted. Not by choice, though. Her country gripped onto the human's wrist which was connected to the hand that held the sharpened bone. Malintzin hissed like an animal. She was so close to driving the bone into the other nation's chest.

"That's enough," Aztec said in a stern voice but then whispered, "You're only making the situation worse."

"No… oh no no no," a twisted evil smirk appeared on Malintzin's face, "you got it wrong, my leader. I'm only doing what you should have done a long time ago. Kill him and the rest of his demons! But oh no… you turned against us, and because of that you are a monster just like them!"

"Seize her!" a man behind Spain yelled out, pulling out his sword toward the three. A couple of Spanish soldiers grabbed Malinztin's hands and tied them behind her back. Even as they pulled her away to the gallows to join her brother in death, Malintzin kept her eyes on Aztec, who stared back with intensity defending her honor.

"Enjoy your 'happiness' for as long as you can because I will come back! I will avenge my brother's death as well as the other courageous men who fought to keep you standing! Their deaths are in vain because of you!" The woman shouted. She seemed to be enjoying the fear in the people around her. Malintzin screamed and moved like a wild animal, kicking the Spanish men around her in the shin for the heck of it. She wanted to have some fun before she took in her last breath.

Aztec stood in shock not sure if what she was witnessing actually took place. As the men put the rope around her neck, Malintzin spouted hateful words and curses. Mostly the Spaniards, but it was obvious that she cursed at Aztec too for not standing up for their people and safety.

Before the trap doors opened to end her life, Malintzin laughed like a mad woman. And in a quick, swift motion, the doors fell open from under the woman's feet. Her body kept up by the rope from her neck, swaying with no life.

Spain had been staying at Tenochtitlan for a few years, but not once had he seen Aztec in such a weak state. She bottled up her emotions, never showing others what she truly felt. But now, she couldn't stop the pain and fear. Her hands trembled at her sides. She realized how vulnerable she had grown in the presence of the Spanish. Her people looked at her with a status of a god. But right now, a woman stood up to her, shouting hurtful words that wouldn't have made Aztec flinch in the past. It was easy before. The punishment for rebellion and such disrespect was death, but why was she crying? Why was she allowing herself to show such a weak emotion in public in front of Spain of all people? Did she truly let her people down? That was how she felt as she clutched at her chest. She failed them. And she failed herself.

The memory of Malintzin's mad laughter woke up Spain from his slumber. He sat up in his luxurious bed, panting and shaking. Anything that reminded him of his conquistador days either gave him a sense of pride or absolute pain. He calmed himself by taking in deep breaths. He never seemed to escape them even after all these years. It was almost five-hundred years ago that Malintzin died, but she still haunted his memories. The Spaniard's body relaxed against his wooden headboard.

His thoughts shifted to Aztec once again. He mused over her strength and natural beauty. No one in Europe had met or seen her before she passed. They only heard the stories the Spanish spread themselves when they returned home. Most of which were very much exaggerated to the point of not being true. Now at days people never gave a thought to the empire that was almost lost from people's memories. Spain was the only one alive who had met and interacted with them in the past.

That wasn't true. Mexico had as well. But her memories of her mother are so fuzzy that she doesn't even have a clear picture of her face, which made Spain's lips form a sad smile. Mexico looked so much like her mother; it scared Spain. Her hair was a few shades lighter and was a bit wavy. Another thing was personality. Aztec was quiet and reserved, but with Mexico, it was an entirely different story. She was loud and not afraid to show America or other countries what she felt.

Still, every time he saw her was always a quick trip down memory lane. Spain was truly the only one left with his thoughts of a woman who really had so much more to live for. It was a mixture of both happiness and heartache. Spain never nor ever will regret meeting Aztec yet he couldn't help but think she and Mexico would have been by far happier without his existence in their lives. What happened has happened, he knew that.

His only wish was for God to release him of the pain and Malintzin's words.


Next chapter will relate more to the description I promise. Sorry for the confusion.