He ran away into the forest, into the tree he had come to call his haven. He hoped he wouldn't find him here, he wouldn't stand another abuse. His wings were wrapped around his body, his freshly scarred wounds hurting even though they had already been treated. Every sound in the forest made him jump, thinking they had come looking for him, but he relaxed when he realized it was just a forest critter. A few minutes later he started to sob quietly, burying his face into his knees as he hugged them; he just wanted to disappear, and stop suffering, get rid of the harsh words and cruel treatment that stung at his little heart.

'You're so pathetic even your brother abandoned you!'

'Stay away, you weirdo!'

'The only reason I chose you to be my successor is because you are a better choice than your brother was.'

'Get lost, Xibalba!'

"Hola?"

Xibalba nearly jumped when he heard an actual voice, and he thought he had been found. He tried to retreat further into the protective shadows of the tree, but there was no space. He found himself staring into yellow orbs as fiery as the sun yet as sweet as honey. She was a pretty girl of pale skin with golden markings, and dark waves of hair tied by a ribbon and cascading down her back. Her eyelids were a natural dark blue, with adorning orange markings. She was wearing a beautiful dress of white bodice and red skirt adorned with trimmed marigolds.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" the girl asked him, tilting her head.

Xibalba didn't reply, he was too nervous that she'd do anything

"Are you hurt?"

He wanted to speak, but his throat was dry and no words would come out. He just stared at her curiously, no one had stayed with him this long.

"Are you mute or something?"

When he didn't say anything, she sat down in front of him.

"Are you lonely too?"

This time, Xibalba managed to give the girl a nod, and he pulled his legs closer in an attempt to hide from view. He couldn't help but blush when he felt the girl's eyes were set on him, he saw no fear in them. After a while, she spoke again.

"Do you want to be my friend?"

Xibalba's eyes widened. Was she serious? No one wanted to be his friend, they didn't even want to be near him. Everyone thought him frightening and grotesque, even his own father did. What if this was a trick to coax him out of his hiding place so the other children would come and tease him again? Still, he felt her tone was sincere. The girl smiled and held out her hand for him to take.

"Don't be afraid. Let's be friends!"

Xibalba stared at her hand for a few seconds, wondering if he should shake it or not. After a while, his face turned red as he reached out his hand and shook hers…


Xibalba woke up with a groan and stiff back, though he felt much better than yesterday. The dark god huffed in irritation and allowed his wings to stretch a bit, though not too much, the last thing he wanted was to suffer another seizure in such a short time. The massage La Muerte had given him had helped quite a lot, however, he slept like a baby (figuratively, of course) and with no knots. After shifting around in bed for a little more, he started to think about the dream he just had, not really understanding why dreamt of something that happened millennia ago. Speaking of which, he wondered what had happened to that young girl after all these years.

Sitting up in his bed carefully, Xibalba reached for his bedside table and opened the drawer, taking out a long red hair ribbon from the inside. He stared at it forlornly; it was the only memory he had of that sweet young girl who became his first friend. Whoever she was now, he wondered if she'd recognize him if she saw what he had become… Xibalba stroked the ribbon with great affection, before a knock on the door made him put it away quickly and closing the drawer. "Come in."

The door opened, and much to his surprise, La Muerte walked inside carrying a tray of freshly cooked food. "Good morning, Xibalba. How are you feeling?" she inquired softly, approaching his bed.

"Better now, thanks." Xibalba replied, rubbing his shoulder softly. "That tea you made worked really well, so I should really thank you."

"It's nothing, I'm glad it helped you." Her voice was unusually gentle, she usually spoke to him with irritation, annoyance and incense, but now she was being gentle to him. For some reason he found it attractive. "Here, I brought you breakfast."

Xibalba sat up in bed carefully so that La Muerte could place the tray on his lap; his breakfast consisted of scrambled eggs, bacon with some orange juice, as well as tea, boiled eggs, a few pastries and a slice of cheese. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." La Muerte sat down on the chair from last night, resting her back against it.

Xibalba didn't like the idea of eating in front of La Muerte like that, so he took one of the pastries and held it out to her. "Here."

"Thanks, b-but I'm not hungry…"

"I insist, my dear. I guess by your expression that you have not eaten yet, am I right?"

La Muerte blushed a bit as she accepted the pastry from her husband, and gave it a small bite. There was a swirl of sweet flavors in her mouth, and when she swallowed her mouthful of pastry it continued in her stomach. "This is good. What's it called?"

"Éclair." Xibalba replied gently, taking a piece of egg to his mouth, and then a sip of his orange juice. "It's a French pastry, and one of my personal favorites."

"I can see you like sweets very much."

"I admit, pastries are my soft spot. French pastries are the best, if I may have an opinion. Those people might be snobs, but they have certainly a thing for cakes."

"You sure know a lot about Europe." La Muerte commented.

"I spent centuries there during the wars, remember?" the dark god took a bite from his cheese and a piece of bacon. "

"Yeah, well… Yesterday you mentioned you had an accident that caused you the epilepsy."

Xibalba sighed as he set his fork and knife down. "Have you heard of jousting?"

"It used to be some sort of sport for entertainment, right? Two horsemen charging at each other for with a long lance with a blunted tip."

"It was one of my favorite sports. Sometimes I would take human form to participate in tournaments." Xibalba chuckled. "I won every single match without a single scratch, there wasn't anyone who could touch me, until one day I unknowingly faced off against a Norse god who, like me, enjoyed taking part in jousting tournaments just for fun. I was too confident and didn't realize my mistake until it was too late…"

"What happened?"

"He knocked me and I fell off my horse, the worst thing was that I knocked my head on a rock."

La Muerte gasped, nearly choking on the éclair she was eating. "You… knocked your head with a rock?!"

"Since I was a god, it didn't kill me, but I guess something went loose in my brain, and I've been having these seizures ever since."

"How often do you have them?"

"Depends. Sometimes every few months, or days, but they always come out of nowhere."

"Regina told me no one knows about it. Why didn't you go see Toci or Itzamna?"

"For what? I doubt they could help me, and besides, the last thing I need is those two telling all of Aztlan about my condition. It'd ruin my reputation."

"Is your reputation more important than your health?"

"Not quite. All I will tell you is that I'd rather keep it a secret."

Before La Muerte could protest any further, suddenly a hissing noise caught her attention. She recognized the sound of a snake when she heard it, and looked around her chair, lifting her feet off the ground in alarm in case it was poisonous. Xibalba, however, kept eating and didn't show any alarm at the sound of the snake. La Muerte yelled in fright when out of sudden a purple two-headed snake slithered from under the bed and glanced up at her. She would have thrown something at it, had she something to throw that wasn't fragile.

"Don't exaggerate." Xibalba rolled his eyes, finishing with his eggs and bacon and moving to his pastries.

"Exaggerate?! What's a snake doing here?!" La Muerte shrieked, she had never been fond of snakes.

The dark god looked down at the reptile and held out his arm at it. "Here, boy." The snake slithered around his arm and into his bed to curl up next to his lap. Then he glanced at his terrified wife. "La Muerte, this is Ponzoña." Xibalba pointed at his snake.

"Seriously? A snake? Is there an animal you don't have?!"

"Oh, quit it. You have lots of animals in the Land of the Remembered."

"But they're not dangerous animals!"

"Don't be like that, Ponzoña is harmless…" Xibalba chuckled and took a sip of his orange juice. "Most of the time."

"It's not funny, Xibalba."

"Where's your sense of humor, dear La Muerte?"

"Sense of humor? It's not funny, what if your…" La Muerte glanced at Ponzoña with her stomach churning. "…pet ends up killing someone?"

"He doesn't do that unless I tell him too." The dark god plucked two pieces from his scone and fed them to his snake's two heads. "And he's not my 'pet'. He's been my friend ever since I had the use of reason."

La Muerte noted how Ponzoña rubbed his heads against Xibalba's arm affectionately; he did seem very attached to the dark god, and vice versa. Definitely, Xibalba had his soft spot for those close to him. Xibalba winced as he sat up until his back was laying against his pillows, and he placed the now-empty tray aside carefully, his wings stretching for a while as he glanced at his wife. "Do you have any plans for today, my dear?"

"Not really. I don't mean to complain, but there's not much to do down here. How about you?"

"Well, since the episode that happened yesterday, I'm supposed to be remain in bed for the whole day." Xibalba sighed and crossed his arms as he looked towards the ceiling. "So I guess that's one thing we have in common for the moment. The worst thing of this mess is that tomorrow I'll have to deal with a great pile of paperwork."

"I can imagine it…"

The two remained silent for a couple of minutes. A long, awkward silence as La Muerte tapped her fingers on her forearms while Xibalba stroked one of Ponzoña's heads to kill the time. They were clearly waiting for the other to say something, but they had nothing to say. Finally, Xibalba couldn't bear the silence any longer and decided to break the ice.

"So…" he said gently. "You've never ridden a horse before, right?"

La Muerte looked away when her cheeks became red. "No. Father said it wasn't proper for a lady."

"Nonsense talking. There are many women in Europe that are skilled riders, only that their riding is different from men's."

"Lucky them. Father has always been a bit strict when it came to things a lady should and shouldn't do. He only agreed to let me learn fencing when I promised him I wouldn't do anything unlady-like."

"And here I thought that they were sexist in Europe." Xibalba sighed, shaking his head. "Say, La Muerte… If you'd like, I could… you know, riding a horse is not that hard."

"You're offering to teach me how to ride?"

"If you don't mind, that is. I mean, you did fall off the horse and hurt yourself."

La Muerte rubbed her head in remembrance. "I don't have anything against it, actually. The horse was not to blame, something must have spooked him."

"You're right in that. If someone is to blame, that's me."

"No, you're not to blame either-"

"I challenged you to that silly bet even though I knew you had no experience-"

"And I agreed. I knew you were more experienced than me, but I still agreed. I'd say the both of us have an equal part on the blame."

"So, what do you say?"

"Well…" La Muerte couldn't help but smile a bit at her husband. "I guess it would be okay."

Now it was Xibalba's turn to grin. "Just to warn you, I'm a bit strict teacher."

"I think I can handle it."

Xibalba chuckled, before suddenly he felt a small aching on his shoulder that made him lay down on bed again. "It will have to be tomorrow, it seems, considering I'm staying here all damn day…" he sighed irritated, crossing his arms.

"What do you usually do when you have to be in bed?"

"Read a book, but they're in the library and as I just mentioned, I can't leave bed."

"I could bring you one."

"No offense, but I don't think you'll be able to find any of my favorite books."

"Please, it's not easy to guess what you like, most of those books are dark-themed, I wouldn't be surprised if your favorite book had something to do with monsters that attacked humans."

"That's quite close, my dear, but not enough."

La Muerte thought for a moment. Then she had an idea, she grinned at the dark god. "How about a wager?"

He raised an eyebrow. "A wager?"

"I'll go to the library and bring you one of your favorite books."

"Hehe, you'd never come back. There's no way you'll find it." Xibalba chuckled. "How about we make it more interesting?"

"Interesting you say?"

"You have to find it in one hour."

One hour?! In that humongous library?! There was no way she'd ever find it in such a short time, she was certain he was toying with her, judging by the amused and taunting smile on his lips. Oh, he wouldn't give him the pleasure!

"What are the stakes?" La Muerte grinned.

"If I win, you'll give me another of those massages." Well, at least he hadn't asked that she sleep in the same room as him.

"And if I win, you will…" La Muerte tapped her chin with her finger and looked up. "Read me your favorite book."

Xibalba's grin disappeared; it was clear he didn't like reading out loud to people. Still, he chuckled humorlessly at his wife. "Very well, my dear." He held out his hand. "By the ancient rules…"

La Muerte shook his hand. "…the wager is set."

"You know what, I feel benevolent, so I'll give you a clue to one personal favorite of mine." The dark god was still grinning confidently. "I fell in love with an angel. Her voice calls to me. My music, my face. I was rejected."

"I'll be back before you know it, mister."

With those parting words, La Muerte turned into a blur of marigold petals and zoomed to the library through the dark hall of the castle. Luckily she had already memorized the interior of the castle and she could walk around without getting lost. She went through the doors and materialized, then she started to look in the bookshelves for anything that may have to do with the riddle.

But just as Xibalba had said, it was not as easy as it appeared, the library was large and there were millions of books. It would take her days, no, months to even find something, and she only had one hour. This was like finding a needle in a haystack. There had to be something she could do to find anything sooner, and she had to find it now. After wasting ten minutes in looking through the first row of bookshelves, La Muerte huffed in exhaustion and flopped unto one of the wooden chairs, taking her hands to her head. This would take too long, she had already wasted precious time in randomly searching through tomes. There had to be something she was overlooking, but she was at loss on what to do. And being sitting here complaining wasn't helping either. The door creaked and she lifted up her head to find Roberto and Emilio on the doorway with dusters.

"Oh, my lady!" Emilio gasped in surprise. "Sorry if we interrupted you, if you'd like us to go-"

"No, no, don't mind me. You can come in and do your chores, I'm just…" La Muerte sighed and rubbed her temples.

"I don't mean to sound intrusive, my lady, but is something wrong?"

"Not at all, just a wager with Xibalba… I'm supposed to find his favorite book in one hour and I've already wasted fifteen minutes."

"His favorite book?" Roberto laughed softly as he started to dust one of the bookshelves. "He has many."

"Then could you help me?"

"We'd like to, mi lady, but…" Emilio laughed nervously, fidgeting with his feather duster. "Five minutes ago Lord Xibalba forbad us from telling you what his favorite book was."

La Muerte groaned and hid her face in her hands.

"He said we couldn't tell her which of his favorite books was the right one." Roberto grinned as he looked back from the bookshelf. "But he didn't tell us that we couldn't lend her a hand." He climbed down from the wooden ladder that led into the upper bookshelves with a tome. "This is one of his favorites, Dracula."

"Roberto!" Emilio cried out in dismay

"Then there's The Black Cat, The Raven, Frankenstein, The Pit and the Pendulum…" As he listed down the books, he crawled through the shelves and threw the books towards the table, which landed into a perfect pile until there were about thirty books in a pile. "And, those are the ones he likes to read the most."

"If Lord Xibalba finds out about this, it'll be our necks!" Emilio shrieked with grit teeth.

"Come on, Emilio, it's not that bad."

"Besides, what Xibalba doesn't know won't hurt him, right?" La Muerte winked an eyelash at him, which made Emilio blush.

What was the riddle he gave her again…?

I fell in love with an angel

Her voice calls to me

My music, my face

I was rejected

It didn't sound like an horror novel, so she discarded monster novels like Frankenstein and Dracula, now she only had twenty nine books to go. Apparently, it contained at least a bit of romance, so she discarded the books that didn't even touch the topic. Now she only had one option left, but… she wasn't certain if it was the one. After all, she remembered they had said Xibalba didn't like romance novels, but it was the only thing she got. She only had ten minutes left, there wasn't time to look for another book.

"Thanks for the help, chicos!" she told the lizards as she picked up the book and zoomed out of the library. Roberto waved his hand at her in a friendly way, while Emilio stared at where she had gone shyly, waving goodbye with his claws. It took La Muerte another five minutes to return to Xibalba's chambers, but as she was about to open the door she stopped, and looked down at the leather-bound book. What if this wasn't the right one? It wasn't that she didn't like the idea of massaging his back; it was rather a matter of pride. After all, she wasn't willing to lose a second time to him.

Sighing with resignation, she turned the knob of the door.

Xibalba had counted the 352th sheep when finally he heard the door creak open and he saw his wife return with a book in her hand. He sensed her anxiety and uncertainty, he was certain she failed in the task. He grinned tauntingly at her as he took his hands behind his head. "And well, my dear? Did you find it?"

La Muerte didn't say anything, her throat was dry. The suspense was giving her a suffocating feeling, her body tensed as she approached the side of bed and held out the book for him to take. Xibalba smirked confidently as he took the book gently from her grasp and glanced at the cover.

The Phantom of the Opera

His smirk slowly vanished, it somehow gave her some relief though she wasn't sure as to why. Either he didn't like it because it contained romance, or it was the contrary and she had hit the jackpot; he remained silent for a few seconds, her stomach churned with anxiety and her heart nearly stopped when he turned to look at her with an emotionless expression.

"…Well played, my dear."

D-Did that mean…? Had she…?

"SÍ!" La Muerte squealed. "Si, si!" She would have started to dance around, but she didn't want to look like a five year old who had gotten a candy in front of him.

"I'd thank you if you stopped rubbing it in my face, you know." Xibalba sighed in defeat, rolling his eyes, fidgeting with the tome.

"Sorry, it's just I can't believe it!" she chirped. "I mean, Emilio said you didn't like romance novels."

"This is not precisely romance… not your typical 'happily-ever-after' that you see in most books these days." Xibalba pointed at the book. "This is true reading, not that nonsense they read to children that leads them away from the real world."

"Children are different. They are innocent, their parents just try to teach them to have faith in themselves and follow their dreams."

"They should teach them how to fend for themselves, that's what will really keep them alive."

La Muerte wanted to protest, but she chose against arguing with Xibalba right now. After all, she was in a pretty good mood for having won their wager. "And, since I won…" She sat down in the chair next to his bed expectantly.

Xibalba sighed in dismay as he opened the book and looked for the first page. "'It was the evening of which MM. Debienne and Poligny, the managers of the Opera, were giving a last gala performance to mark their retirement...'"

This was going to be a long day.