Chapter 2
The Winning Loss
It was inscribed in the Book of Life that Xibalba was not only known for his gloomy views of humanity and self-serving nature. He was an incredibly sore loser. La Muerte was most familiar with his fact, what with all those centuries of sparring back and forth with verbal barbs and trivial wagers just to rile each other up. Though their ideologies of mankind hung at two extreme ends, their witty banter and love of high stakes ensured the two found common ground. That was dangerous however. Neither of them both had expected it to pave a passageway into the affairs of the heart. Xibalba used to only want to win desperately in order to save his massive ego but then the reason was beginning to pinpoint a particular source, a delectable dessert ravishingly robed in red and bedecked with marigolds.
La Muerte was simply too stunning for a loser. Xibalba had full knowledge of that as he watched, bitter at how the people of the Land of the Remembered earned her love so easily. All they had to do was be dead. He had scoffed at how the mortals lived hand to mouth, from living to dearly departed while he had to strive tooth and nail to get her to concentrate on him without any trace of boredom in her luscious golden pupils. If only he knew that he did not have to try so hard. The Goddess of Death had always unconditionally adored him in spite of his horrid manners and apathetic attitude towards the humans but the whole catch was that she never let on. At least, she did not let on in an obvious way. Xibalba, being far too caught up in his thinking that he needed to prove that he was worthy of her, had not caught on at all. Since he had been caught cheating in their last wager and thus banished out of her sight due to the betrayal, he knew he needed to win back her attention and then, along the way, charm her back into his good graces.
It would have all gone smoothly. The Medal of Everlasting Life would ensure Joaquin could have Maria in matrimonial bliss, meaning that he would not only rule in the Land of the Remembered and indulge shamelessly but La Muerte would look up to him and see that he was a winner. He was a man that she should respect and give a chance to. Of course, since he just was not fated to have nice things in his life, he got found out and was she ever enraged. She had grasped him by the beard and lips, her golden eyes molten like twin volcanic craters as she screamed nasty insults. Even in full bloom, a poisonous rose could still captivate with its immortal beauty.
He still could not allow victory to slip away from him. When Manolo, that damned mortal who clearly inherited his mother's pluckiness, stepped forth and challenged him, he would finally, finally win and without cheating for once! Yet, the Book of Life had another story written down. Instead of being overthrown by the massive skeletal bull he had conjured up, the guitarist stood his ground and sang an apology to the bull and this had touched the vengeful accumulation of spirits so much that they just disintegrated. Xibalba had watched, completely dumbstruck, unable to believe that he had lost again and he had not even cheated this time! He had been about ready to curse Manolo with all his might when he observed the whole coliseum giving him a standing ovation. He had to admit that the human had certainly accomplished an impressive feat. Without even wielding a sword, he had subdued a dangerous beast. La Muerte had commented on that, with the prettiest smile on her face, a smile that was well aware it belonged to a person who had won again. Any resentment Xibalba had felt of losing once more to his one heart's desire vanished instantly. She was happy in his presence and she was far too sweet to laugh at his expense though he had lost.
It was inevitable, it appeared then, that Maria would walk down the aisle with Manolo instead of Joaquin, as Xibalba had hoped. Perhaps he really did not know about women as La Muerte had playfully pointed out to him once. If he did, he would know that she did not think any less of him despite the loss. In fact, she was actually proud of him for taking his loss gracefully and allowing Manolo another chance at garnering Maria's affections. Ay, he truly did not know women.
Well, he knew one very crucial thing about the fairer sex. They could never resist a sincere, heartfelt apology. There was something apparently in seeing a testosterone driven, thinks he knows all man admitting his faults that appeased them. Ah well, if that was going to patch things up between them, he would swallow his pride. Truth be told-and The Candle Maker was the only one who knew but he never let on-Xibalba had been rather inspired by the blooming romance between Manolo and Maria. As he observed the feisty damsel dip her unsuspecting groom down to place a hot kiss on him, he could not resist the smile creeping over his slick tar face. He wanted that back. He wanted La Muerte to swoon in his arms and press her lips against him. In order for that to happen, he knew what he needed to do.
He arrived unannounced, not that his lovely one noticed for she was too engrossed in the festivities down below. He rolled his eyes when he heard the Candle Maker's outburst amongst the cheerful tossing of sombreros and shouts. Soon enough, that waxy fool would have something bigger to be all happy about. Gliding over towards her, he cleared his throat.
"Ah well, I believe you've won the wager, mi amor…. along with my heart all over again," To his delight, he watched as her eyes widened at his declaration before she turned and, completely affected by his words went to him, her small delicate hands taking his larger, gloved ones. They stayed like that for a mere moment, him taking in all her majestic beauty and enjoying the feeling of her presence upon his hands. It had been far too long. A man can only remain a competitive idiot for only so long till he realizes that not having his love by his side was worth more than a paltry prize.
"I'm so sorry, my love. You deserve better than me. I know that now," The glimmer in her golden irises spurred him on with his rather uncharacteristic act. Xibalba too was not known for his apologies. She brought out the best in him and that was another reason why he needed her so ardently in his afterlife. "Will you ever forgive me?"
He sealed his act of humble surrender with a worshipful kiss on the back of her hand. La Muerte's eyes appeared just the slightest bit moist. Finally, the Lord of the Land of the Forgotten could clearly detect just how his darling pined for him as much as he had pined for her. And to think she did not show it all this while. We're more alike than I thought. We're proud, stubborn and utterly competitive. It's time now, however, to start saying what we truly mean.
He felt her fingers grip onto his hands with a possessive tightness as she said the words he had been waiting far too long for. "I do." If that had not made him lightheaded enough, she swung him around and, shielding their passionate embrace with her gaudy sombrero, their lips met in a hungry lock. The candles adorning her expansive hat shot out an exquisite display of fireworks, catching the eye of the mortals below. Maria and Manolo glanced up, seeing the two death gods and chuckled, wishing the king and queen of the afterlife as much happiness in their relationship as they would enjoy in theirs. The Candle Maker let out a hearty chuckle, his hands on his hips. "Well, it's about time those two worked things out."
When the lip lock sadly had to end, Xibalba's head was spinning and he was certain he heard the sultry strains of a guitar string. La Muerte giggled at the goofy, love stricken expression on his face and cupped it in his hands. "Ay Balby, listen, Manolo is singing to his beloved bride."
"Ah, well that explains a few things," He responded in a wry tone, shuddering at the feel of her soft, soft hands. Only her touch could reduce him to a pile of trembling goop. How he had missed it, no matter how embarrassing it could be. La Muerte giggled as they both teleported down below to witness the festivities. They watched as the mortals danced, swayed and joined into the rambunctious love duet Manolo and Maria. Rather caught up with the festivities, they did not expect the Candle Maker to swoop up behind them and catch them in a huge bear hug.
"Oh, this is really a good Day of the Dead, man!" He boomed, squeezing them close to his waxy, rotund figure. La Muerte was just as amused as Xibalba was not at the unwanted embrace. Their assailant then smirked and whispered into the indifferent god's ear. "Psst, if you both need someone to officiate the wedding, you just call me, you hear?" He broke into a hearty laugh at Xibalba's shocked red skulls before releasing them to join in with the merrymaking.
La Muerte giggled. "Well, it seems it's no big secret, my love." Xibalba shook his head. Not that he really cared if people knew of their reconciliation but he had hoped for some modicum of privacy. Now, that big cloudy moron was going to tossing secretive smiles and winks every time they crossed paths. Ah, what did it matter in the end? He felt La Muerte glide up against him, resting an affectionate hand on his shoulder.
"So, mi amor, no hard feelings over not being able to interfere with the mortals anymore?" She punctuated her question with a peck on his cheek, possibly to perk him up the moment he remembered just what he lost. Xibalba chuckled and took her hand.
"No, my heart, not at all. Because now, I have someone to entertain me in my lonely nights in the Land of the Forgotten," He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at her and received a slap in the shoulder for it. Yes, he may have lost yet another bet to his ravishing nemesis but there never was a time he felt more like a big winner than right now.
