Chapter 3- Apuesta


Over the course of the next few days, their relationship was still in between 'stranger' and 'acquaintance', mostly because of their opposite opinions on many things. La Muerte thought Xibalba to be bitter, selfish, short-tempered and a definitive machista, while Xibalba soon concluded La Muerte was like all others, superficial, hypocrite and rebel, refusing to settle down and to let him touch her. He had met many women in his long life, but never one like her. His patience was wearing thin, but it seemed like she didn't care. They avoided interaction most of the time.

La Muerte spent most of the time confined willingly in her chambers, now her meals were taken to her room and if she got bored she asked Emilio, Roberto or any of the other lizards to bring her a book, sometimes they'd even stay to chat with her. They spoke to her about the Land of the Forgotten and the inhabitants, though she had seen none ever since she arrived. Emilio told her various groups had arrived, but Xibalba told them not to bother her with that, that he was the ruler of the realm, not her. This only strengthened La Muerte's opinion of his machismo.

This day, she woke up when she heard a sound she never thought she'd hear down hear. Music. A pipe organ, to be more precise. Curious, she donned a red bathrobe and tip-toed out of her room and followed the music to its source; the music was dark, haunting and very complicated, she could tell that it could only be played by a maestro. La Muerte walked down halls and upstairs looking for the room the playing came from, until she came to a half-open black door; she wasn't sure if she should go in or just take a peek inside, but after a few seconds opted for the latter. La Muerte poked her head through the doorway to see who was playing, and the sight surprised her.

It was a spacious room lit with candles of green fire, and great windows with dark curtains, as well as a black velvet carpet leading to the organ the music came from. The pipes had the shape of snakes with open mouths and exposed fangs, keys of obsidian glass and lilt candles on top of it. Everytime a key was pressed, the corresponding pipe released the tune through the serpent's mouth. Sitting upon the obsidian bench in front of it, was none other than Xibalba himself, his back straight and his scarred wings half-spread. His fingers swiftly flew over the keys and hit each note perfectly even with his eyes closed; he was so concentrated and the volume of the music was so loud that he did not notice his wife.

The music was dark, powerful and intimidating. La Muerte bit her lip as she watched him. The way he played… as if he was tortured by something. She had never seen anyone play with such passion, or such fury. She should be afraid, yet she wasn't… she was intrigued. The haunting music sounded familiar in some way to her, like she had heard it before in a dream. La Muerte closed her eyes and stood outside the door, listening to the music intently, completely content to hear a bit of music after so many days of being trapped down here. She missed the music of the Land of the Remembered, those happy and festive songs that made everyone happy, contrasting this melody that made her feel depressed.

After a while, La Muerte decided to go explore the castle a bit, though even as she walked away from the door and made her way through the corridors and halls, the music could still be heard from anywhere within. She wondered if it could be heard from the outside; that, and she had a curiosity about Xibalba's horse. He was unlike any horse she had seen in the thirteen kingdoms. La Muerte managed to find her way to the castle gates, and with some difficulty she managed to open one, but Xibalba had pushed them open without a drop of sweat when they first arrived. Was he that strong?

Once outside, she stepped down the stone steps and towards the stable. Brrr! It was cold out here, making her recall she was not yet dressed, thus she wore no shoes either, making her feel even more cold than before. La Muerte snapped her fingers and a pair of slippers appeared under her feet to protect them from the snow and ice. As she walked into the stable, she took a look at it. It was like the stables of her father's castle, but darker, and with only one stall, since there was only one horse down here.

The stall had an European flair, and it was made of heavy duty steel with oak wood. The front had a feed door to feed the stallion, and a v insert in the top grill of the door so he could peek his head out. There was a blacksmithing fire at one side, probably where the horseshoes were made.

The horse, whose name she recalled was Medianoche, was eating from a good pile of straw when he heard her coming in. Lifting his head, he saw La Muerte entering and approaching the door of his stall, spiking his curiosity. La Muerte took a look around and spotted the same lizard from before taking a nap on top of a pile of straw; she silently walked past him in and towards the stall. Medianoche approached the door of his stall and stared at the Goddess with an air of curiosity natural to his species.

"Hello there." La Muerte spoke to him gently. "You're a pretty horse, you know that?"

Medianoche snorted and sniffed her hand when she tried to pet him; she had never ridden a horse before because it wasn't 'ladylike', but she did like interacting with them. Once she was certain this horse hadn't an aggressive temper, she tentatively rubbed his neck with her hand. Medianoche snorted in delight and reached out to one of her locks of hair, making her giggle.

"I see you've made an acquaintance with my horse."

La Muerte didn't bother to jump this time; she had already gotten used to him sneaking up behind her, anyway. Xibalba was a bit disappointed by this, but he nevertheless approached his wife. Immediately, Medianoche's attention shifted to his owner and he let out soft neighs as he stomped his hoof. Chuckling, Xibalba patted his horse's neck and stroked his head. "Quieto, chico. Quieto."

La Muerte could note he was very attached to the horse, and vice versa. "I never thought you were the animal type."

"That's the impression everyone gets." Xibalba replied gently, patting Medianoche's head gently. There was a twinge of bitterness in his voice.

"You seem to be close to him."

"We've been together for a long time."

"I can see that."

"What?" Xibalba glanced back at her. "I might be cruel, but I don't have to be so with everyone. They're all the family I have…" he stopped abruptly.

"They are? I thought the Candlemaker said you had-"

"It's none of your business."

La Muerte rolled her eyes. Back to his normal self. She was about to go back inside when the dark god grabbed her arm. "You know, it's becoming a custom for you to grab my arm like that." She said sarcastically, releasing it from his grasp.

"There's something I've been wanting to talk with you." Xibalba told her dryly. "But unfortunately, I haven't had the chance."

"What do you want, Xibalba?" she crossed her arms at him and gave him a crossed look.

"As you know, we have not yet consummated our union-"

"Oh, no!" she snapped without even letting him finish. "I don't want to hear it!" She tried to leave but Xibalba grabbed her by the arm once again.

"You are my wife. You will do as I say." He growled, his teeth growing sharp.

"You're completely insane if you think I'm sleeping with you!" La Muerte growled back, her temper flaring. "Remember you gave your word to my father! Or what, weren't you supposed to be a man of your word?"

"I usually am, but in this matter it doesn't concern him whatever we do."

"I will not-!"

The goddess was caught by surprise when her husband pinned her against the wall by the arms, his wings stretching out menacingly, his teeth turned to fangs but instead of a scowl he gave her a lustful grin. "You're so hot when you're angry."

"Get off me!" La Muerte tried to release herself from his grasp, but he was stronger than her.

"Do I have to remind you?" he whispered into her ear seductively. "You are mine."

"I belong to no one."

Xibalba leaned his head closer to her and sniffed her hair, intoxicating himself with her sweet aroma of marigolds; he was tempted to kiss her, but now was not the moment. No, he had a better idea than that. One little bird told him that she was very fond of wagers; well, now was the moment to find out. "How about a little wager?"

La Muerte cursed him for figuring out her weakness. "A wager?"

With an amused grin, Xibalba released her arms and stepped back folding his wings back. "I propose a little horse race, you and me, one lap around the lava lake surrounding my castle."

"Horse race? You only have one horse."

"I'll take care of that. Do you accept?"

La Muerte narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him. "But what are the stakes?"

"Las damas primero." Xibalba gave her a small bow, making her wonder if what he meant wasn't the contrary.

"If I win…" it took her a few minutes to think on what to ask. "If I win you'll allow me to visit my family."

Xibalba's smile seemed to twitch at that request, but he managed to keep on the mask as he stroked his beard, pretending to think on what to bet. "And if I win, you will sleep with me one night."

La Muerte froze when those words left his tarry lips. She trembled at the thought of sleeping in the same bed with him, his claws touching her delicate body, his tongue tasting her skin. This, plus the fact she had never ridden a horse, made her hesitant to accept his proposal. But this could be a chance to see her family, at least once. Xibalba stretched out his hand to shake hers. "Do we have a deal, my dear?"

Sighing, La Muerte grabbed her husband's larger hand and shook it. "We have a deal."

"Very well, now you only need to get changed. " Xibalba took a look at her with lustful eyes. "Though frankly I wouldn't mind if you chose to race in that attire."

Huffing her annoyance, she didn't even bother to tell him she was going to get changed as she walked back into the castle and made her way towards her room. It took her half an hour to change into a knee-length light blue dress fading into lilac at the front of the bodice, and black boots, then tied her long dark hair into a ponytail. As returned outside to the stables, she was surprised to find not one, but two horses inside. Medianoche, and a milky white horse without a single speck of any other color in its shimmering coat that contrasted with the dark surroundings, with a red bridle. The newcomer's dark eyes set on her curiously. Xibalba had his back leaning against the wall with crossed arms, waiting for her. Meanwhile, the lizard that worked there was putting the bridle on the dark god's horse.

"Where did you get this horse on such a short time?" La Muerte couldn't help but ask as she approached and petted the horse's head.

"Lady Epona owed me a favor." Xibalba replied with a smirk.

"Epona? The Mistress of Horses?"

"What? You know another Goddess named Epona? And yes, she gave me one of her finest horses." He glanced at La Muerte. "Consider it as my wedding gift."

"Well…" the sugar lady couldn't help but feel flattered at this. "Thank you…"

"Good. Now let's get started."

"But it doesn't have a saddle-"

"I never said we'd race with a saddle, did I?"

La Muerte froze with dread, especially when she saw Xibalba climb unto his saddleless horse with no problem at all, but she had never ridden, let alone without saddle. Xibalba stared at her amusingly as she tried to figure out how to climb into the horse's back.

"Well? You can't climb unto a simple horse?" the dark god sneered, taking his steed's reins and leading Medianoche closer to La Muerte.

"I'm fine, I just…" she tried to climb unto her horse like he had, but she slipped and fell back to the ground with a loud thud. Xibalba laughed teasingly.

"Need some help?"

"No! I can do it!"

When she fell to the ground for the third time, Xibalba rolled his eyes and turned to the lizard. "Juarez."

He left what he was doing and looked up at his master. "Yes, My Lord?"

"Help my wife get on her horse, if you'd please."

"Yes, My Lord." Juarez approached La Muerte and kneeled down, putting his hands so that she could place her feet on it. "Let me help you, milady."

La Muerte looked down at him in surprise, wondering if he'd be able to support her weight, but it seemed he didn't mind about it at all. Reluctantly, she lifted a feet to his hands, and then she quickly impulse herself up towards the horse's back, hearing a yelp of effort from Juarez as she did so. Finally, this time she did manage to climb unto the horse's back, and quickly accommodated herself nervously, her legs feeling a bit itchy from the horse's coat. What if she slipped off?

"About time." Xibalba sighed. "Follow me to the finish line." He gently kicked his horse's sides, and Medianoche advanced towards the bridge.

La Muerte panicked and impulsively kicked her horse's side, but she did it a little too harshly and it jumped and neighed in surprise as it trotted towards the bridge. La Muerte clung to its neck with a yelp of surprise and tightened her leg's grip on the horse's torso. Once both horses were a few steps away from the bride, the riders pulled the reins to make them stop temporally. Juarez ran to stand between both horses, but a few steps ahead of them. Xibalba glanced at La Muerte with a smirk. "Good luck, my dear. You're going to need it."

She didn't reply. Juarez took the handkerchief around his neck and held it up in the form of a banner; not that he liked it, however.

"Ready… S-Set…" the lizard closed his eyes shut in dismay as he let the handkerchief fall to the ground and cowered himself. "GO!"

La Muerte couldn't do anything as suddenly Xibalba smacked his horse's rear with his large hand, and the horse instantly galloped across the bridge at the speed of a bullet; she kicked her horse's sides, but for the length of the bridge she opted to in a trot, considering it had many tight turns, though it apparently didn't bother her husband; in fact, he had no trouble at the tight turns at all, his hand with the reins was very firm and he was confident in his skill; he braked short at the turns before turning his steed left or right and galloping across the bridge once again.

Panicking when she realized Xibalba was getting ahead of her, La Muerte tried to make her horse go faster, but she was too inexperienced to do such drastic turns, and so she trotted through the rest of the bridge; once they were on mainland, the true competition started. Xibalba led his horse at full speed through the spikes and stalactites that made the landscape of his realm, while La Muerte did her best to keep up with him without falling off the horse; she was literally letting the horse follow Medianoche, while she was more focused on clinging to its neck and tightening her legs.

Xibalba would look back every now and then to see how she was doing, and he laughed internally when he saw how she was clinging to her horse, it was obvious she had never ridden a horse. This would be easier than he thought. La Muerte tried her best to keep following her husband, but soon her horse's hooves were hurt by the rocky landscape and it wasn't used to it, so soon it had to lower the speed. It was soon before she lost sight of Medianoche, and it made her panic. Sure, the race was around the castle, but she didn't recall the path she'd taken to go back; it would be easier to try and go the way Xibalba had gone, seeing her family was worth it.

Reluctantly, La Muerte gently kicked her horse's sides and walked down the ashy path. She couldn't go any faster, she didn't want to hurt the poor horse any further, she loved animals that much; as she advanced through the terrain, she looked around hoping to see any of the inhabitants of this bleak wasteland-like realm, but she found nothing more than snow and spikes protruding from the ground, as well as ruins of old buildings. This place was so different from the Land of the Remembered that it made her cry.

Suddenly the horse stopped and brought its ears forward.

"What's wrong, chiquito?" La Muerte patted the horse's neck to calm it down, but she couldn't do anything as out of sudden the animal reared on both legs in fright, and she fell to the ground with a yelp of surprise. The Goddess knocked her head on a rock and lost consciousness.

Xibalba knew something was wrong when he looked back and realized La Muerte was nowhere to be seen; pulling the reins of his steed to brake short once more, he looked back at the path from where he had come and looked for a speck of white in the distance, but all he saw where stalactites. Alarmed, the dark god turned his horse around and galloped back the way they came to look for La Muerte; after a while, he spotted her white horse standing on next to an unconscious figure on the ground… Wait, unconscious figure?!

"La Muerte!" Xibalba stopped his horse and quickly got off to kneel down next to his wife and shake her by the shoulder. "Are you okay?!" When she didn't respond, he took his fingers to her neck and breathed out in relief when he felt a pulse. She was just unconscious. Xibalba carefully picked her up bridal style, moving her head as less as possible. He had to take her back to the castle to check on her, but placing her back on her horse in this state was not a good idea. Carefully, he placed her unconscious body on top of Medianoche's back, before climbing on his horse himself and accommodating her in his arm so that her head was resting against his chest, but so that he could grab the reins with his other hand while keeping her in place. Xibalba then gently kicked Medianoche's sides to make him walk, leading him back towards the castle, La Muerte's horse trailing after them instinctively.

At the pace he had to go, it took about twenty minutes to return to the castle gates; naturally, Juarez ran towards them in alarm when he noticed La Muerte in his master's arms. "My Lord, what happened?!"

"She's fine, she's just unconscious." Xibalba replied curtly, carefully dismounting from his horse and then accommodating La Muerte in his embrace once more. He walked up the steps and into his castle while Juarez led the two horses back to the stables. The dark god walked down the halls and upstairs towards his chambers; they looked evry much like La Muerte's room, except it was more spacious and it had no mirrors. There were adorning carpets hanging from the walls, and a burning fireplace, as well as a tea table next to the crystal doors of a balcony. His bed was king-size due to his wings, the sheets were a sable black just like the rest of his castle, save for the candles illuminating his room.

Once he was next to his bed, Xibalba lifted a sheet with a hand, and then his wife down, pulling up the blankets to cover her up to the collarbone. Her chest was rising and deflating from her breathing… even while unconscious, she was beautiful… Xibalba slid his left glove off his hand, revealing a large, black skeletal hand, and gingerly stroked his wife's cheek with his fingers; it was so soft, almost like cotton, and he was certain it tasted like sugar. Then he ran his hand through her wavy curls of black licorice hair, which felt like the best silk in the world. Finally, Xibalba took a sniff at La Muerte's neck, and memorized her scent of flowers and sugar; he died to taste her, but now was not the moment. She needed attention. Putting his glove back on, the dark god glided out of his chambers.


She was running through a beautiful forest, in the valley surrounding Aztlan. She laughed as she chased after the little rabbits, squirrels and songbirds through the forest, hopping over stones and through small creeks, her small feet carrying her through the natural sanctuary. The young girl dark-haired eventually came to a glade, where a few Does were grazing with their fawns; her dress with white bodice and red skirt was bright under the filtering sunlight through the leaves of the trees, while her hair tied into a ponytail with a hair bow glistened prettily. She approached one of the fawns, and it tilted its head curiously at her.

"Hi little guy." The little girl smiled. "I'm La Muerte."

She stretched out her hand for the fawn, and it smelled it curiously, its ears raised forward. La Muerte giggled and petted its head playfully, but as she was about to go and play with the other fawns, she heard a sound. Sobbing. La Muerte looked around the glade, and heard the sobbing coming from one of the trees; wait, one of the trees? Trees didn't cry. The young girl approached the tree and circled around it to see if someone was crying, and then she saw a hollow hole on the bark, big enough for a child to fit in.

In fact, she managed to see a green glow from within.

"Hola?"

The child inside the tree gasped in surprised and tried to retreat further into the tree with no success. La Muerte's golden eyes were gazing into glossy skull pupils in a pool of acid green. She could take a better look at the boy; at first glance she could tell he was a bit older than her, about two years. He looked like a black skeleton, with green ectoplasm making out his neck and torso, with his ribs sticking over it; his skeletal arms were hugging his legs, which were concealed with a robe-like cloak. He had green markings all over his face, as well as two white and small bushy eyebrows. But what intrigued her the most about this young god was the pair of dark, feathered wings that stuck out from his back and hugged his body. The boy was staring at her with terrified eyes.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" La Muerte inquired, tilting her head.

He didn't speak, he just stared at her dumbfounded.

"Are you hurt?"

Nothing.

"Are you mute or something?"

No reply.

La Muerte thought for a moment, and sat down in front of the boy. "Are you lonely too?" She thought he wouldn't reply, but this time he nodded lightly, pulling his legs closer.

"Do you want to be my friend?" his eyes widened a bit, like he had not been expecting that question. Realizing he would not talk anytime soon, she extended out her hand with a friendly smile. "Don't be afraid. Let's be friends!"

The dark boy just stared at her hand for a few seconds, before tentatively reaching out his hand and shaking it…

La Muerte started stirring awake with a pounding headache; she couldn't recall what happened exactly, but she did realize as she shifted that she was on top of a comfortable surface. Cracking her eyes open, she found herself back in Xibalba's castle, in one of the rooms… but soon she noticed it was not her room. The door creaked open, and she saw Xibalba entering the room carrying a tray with a bowl of water and hand towels.

"How are you feeling?" he inquired, coming to her side and placing the tray on his bedside table.

"My head hurts…" La Muerte replied tiredly, but as she tried to sit up Xibalba gently pushed her down to bed.

"Don't move, you need to rest." He spoke softly to her.

"What happened?"

"You fell off the horse and knocked your head. You were unconscious when I found you."

La Muerte groaned in protest as she rubbed the sore spot in her head; Xibalba took a cloth and submerged it in the water bowl, then he squeezed it to drench the excessive water, though not too much. "Tell me where it hurts."

"Here…" the goddess pointed to her scalp, and winced when Xibalba pressed the cloth against the painful swelling. "Ow!"

"Stop complaining, it's not going to kill you." The dark god growled softly, taking his wife's hand and placing it on the cloth. "There, press it against your swelled part." He drenched another cloth in the cool water, and started wiping her forehead gingerly. La Muerte did as told, confused at his gentleness. None of the two said anything for a while, it was La Muerte who broke the silence.

"Thanks." She said.

"You don't have to, my dear. I just did what any husband would do for his wife." Xibalba replied gently, placing another wet cloth on her forehead. "How are you feeling?"

"A bit better now, but my head is still pounding."

The Lord of the Land of the Forgotten thought for a moment, before moving his sheet a bit. "Give me your feet."

La Muerte blinked. "What?"

"Just give me your feet, I'm not going to cut you a finger if that's what you're thinking."

Reluctantly, she brought her feet from underneath the blankets and allowed her husband to grab them. She winced a bit when Xibalba grabbed one of her feet and started massaging it, but after a while the pain turned into pleasure. She felt relieved when she felt his knuckles pressing against her soles, in other parts of her body she could feel the pressure too.

"Where did you learn to do that?" she couldn't help but ask. "

"When you spend centuries fighting in a war you have to learn healing techniques unless you want to get yourself killed." Xibalba replied, gently pulling on her fingers and making them snap softly.

"Does this mean I lost our wager?"

"Technically, we both crossed the line at the same time, so it didn't quite count. Besides, I doubt you'll ever want to get on a horse after this, my dear."

"No, I do not blame the horse."

"We should leave it for some other time, for now just rest."

La Muerte just stared at him as he continued to massage her other foot, surprised by his gentleness. Maybe… he wasn't that bad, after all…