The country was beautiful as it could be. Trees talked in the breeze and the birds nested as close to the sky as they dared. But something stirred in the beauty, making it ugly and unnatural. A creature looked to its right and crouched. A metallic noise sounded its presence, the sliding of metal on metal. All was silent in the land of the humans. And in a moment, the world was shattered. The Hunter rose to his victory and looked around…for something more to hunt.
Farmland outside the Aztec Capital Tenochtitlan
Mayahuel giggled giddily as she crouched to look at the bug closer. She watched the spider eat its' prey and was reminded of history. But the complex thoughts of life escaped her 14 year-old mind and she was lost in the happiness of the rainforest. Feeling her legs tingle with numbness, Mayahuel stood to her full 5 feet and 3 inches and shielded her eyes from the sun. She looked around for a moment for something to hold her thick black locks at bay, finally finding a small stem of a Rubber Plant and tying her annoying locks to the base of her neck in a bun. Still annoyed at the stringy bits of hair sticking to her sweaty neck, Mayahuel turned and decided that a fresh run would help her, though it might make her sweat more. She trudged through the forest back to the road at the top of the hill and found that her basket of fruit still there and intact. Sighing in relief, the teen skipped up to it and smiled. She quickly looped it around her arm and sped down the hill, leaving a trail of dust in the air.
Mayahuel arrived back in her poor village just as the sun was setting. Winding her way through the mud and thatch huts, the girl giggled. Perhaps she could find her way accidentally to her sister's house for supper instead of her own home. Mayahuel smiled even wider when she saw her purple and red mud house. She brushed the mud, encrusted dirt from her feet and ankles, and stepped through the grass flap that served as the door to her family's mud and stone hut. The sight that greeted her made her gasp, even though it was a common sight in her home. Her foster-father, whom she called Gruthspen (monster) behind his back, stood above her foster-mother with a wooden pole in his hand. He was shouting at the woman and hitting her in the head with the stick repeatedly. Mayahuel knew better than to save her foster-mother and earn herself a rather harsh beating. Whirling back around and setting the basket by the door, Mayahuel was almost out the door when her foster-father spotted her. A hand shot out and yanked her from the edge of safety. She could have outrun him…
She screamed and kicked at him as he threw her to the ground beside her mother. Mayahuel held her hands over her head an attempted to keep her noise from reaching his ears. As her mother was hit, the steady slush of her broken skin made Mayahuel sick. Her mother and her attempted to keep the screams of terror and pain in as the horrid man hit them repeatedly with the beating pole, leaving bruises and welts. Time passed slowly and as his hits became weak and less frequent, the girls could tell that his anger was slated for now. He looked at Mayahuel's foster-mother with lust in his eyes and the odd smell of sex rose from him. Gruthspen roughly snatched up Mayahuel's mother and forced her to the bedroom in the back. He didn't even bother to snap the reed door shut. The broken teen shook her head, thick tears rolling down her cheeks. She stumbled through the door and out into the street. Blood oozed and pain hit her hard as she breathed in the fresh form of life. Air. Mayahuel knew that that night, she wanted to be as far from that bed as possible. Her foster father had a well-known reputation for taking his older daughters and forcing them to bed with him as well. Her eldest sister had a child with him; her father had killed it by tying a stone to its neck and dropping it into the swamp only a day after it had been born. Her sister had then killed herself in front of the Temple of Life claiming that he was the reincarnation of Death. As Mayahuel rushed her broken body across the street, she could hear the sounds of hushed rape behind her. The dirt road was thick and dusty and everything seemed to antagonize her wounds. People passed her as if she was not there. It was a bad sign to show passion to the weak and frail. They were worth nothing in this world.
Grieving, the teen crawled to the forest, a few miles from the city walls of Tenochtitlan, and far from the village, she had grown up in. Something fluttered across her mind, reminding her of her sister's death. She cupped her hands to her ears and crumpled to the ground crying to anyone for help. When she could no longer move, the girl slumped by a fallen rotted tree and held her aching face and head in her shivering arms. Something in her heart stirred and made her look up. A bangalai bird sat on a branch of the fallen tree. The bird peeped, and shot off toward the sky. Her sister had favored those birds, and they in turn had favored her. Mayahuel remembered spending hours by the river, watching her sister "talk" to the animals and envying her for it. Mayahuel watched the bird fly, letting her hatred and fear fly with it. It had been her sister telling her to be strong, Mayahuel knew it. After it had disappeared, there was only sadness left in her heart. She looked back down to her palms. Somehow, her mind drifted back to this morning and her picking flowers and fruit. The task she enjoyed in this life. The one thing she loved. She closed her eyes and could picture the trees welcoming her and the forest teeming with life and love. It was her haven, and she loved being there. Above her, the atmosphere stirred and a balloon like ship came into view followed by eight others. They pushed the clouds aside, sending them dancing in swirls of angry grey and blissful white. The Guardians were back. Mayahuel looked to the sky and prayed that the god's would have mercy on her this night, praying for her foster-mother and step-sisters as well. She was too stiff to climb back to her home, and she truthfully didn't want to. Deciding to stay, Mayahuel watched the ships drift toward the towering temples. She wondered what it would be like to see one of those majestic creatures next to her as she surveyed he lands with the priests. As she was drifting to sleep, the young one did not know of the gods watching her; nor of the young demigod, her foster-mother had named her after. She drifted off with frightful thoughts of the beating she would get when she arrived home the next day, if she decided to go back again.
The Seventh Heaven
Huitzilopochtli looked through the stone mirror at the small female on the world below him. No wonder Mayahuel had wanted his help with her. She was almost hopeless, what with her history of abuse and distraught. The demigod had asked him to send a servant down or at least help her convince Ehecatl to save the poor soul. The god of fire and Sun stared at the female and glanced back at the large door to the temple. He sighed and shook his head. It was hard to convince the God of Wind to change anything he didn't want to. He was as stubborn as… the winds. Huitzilopochtli turned the vision on the rock from the girl to the alien ship that had just entered the atmosphere. A voice broke his train of thought, followed by near silent footsteps.
"Why would our dear demigod ask this of you, Huitzilopochtli?" Ixtlilton, God of Healing, asked faintly. His robes nearly covered all of him, allowing only for the minimal silent movements he usually made.
"I assume she sees the child as a reflection of herself." The giant man replied with another sigh.
He had been sighing a lot lately.
"Or maybe not at all, an exact opposite of herself." The God Ixtlilton smiled back.
The two stood in a moment of silence as both watched the stone of obsidian and the world it showed therein. Ixtlilton walked without the slightest ruffle of his robes to a bench at one end of the circular stone. He sat with a smile and switched his gaze to the God of Fire and Sun. The much older god looked tired and worn out, usually impossible for a God. Mayahuel had asked a big favor of him. It wasn't easy to change a god's mind, no matter the God. Hours passed with minimal talking. Finally, someone spoke up.
"Ixtlilton, help heal the girl. I will speak to Mayahuel and Ehecatl of this matter." And with that, the god Huitzilopochtli turned and left the Temple of Light.
Macuilxochitl frowned as Huitzilopochtli strode past him and down the temple steps. The God of Love stopped to watch his brother fade into the distance of the Seventh Heaven. He shook his head and entered the door with a slight creak. Ixtlilton greeted Macuilxochitl and they immediately got to business.
"Mayahuel came to me saying that a certain human female could change the fates of her empire… and maybe even ours." He started.
"Our demigod has asked for Huitzilopochtli to help her gain status in her city. And he, in turn, asked me to heal her." Ixtlilton smiled impishly.
"She has asked me to send her love and happiness. Why do you think the girl wishes to work with the human?"
"I think her motives will be made clear soon enough and I, for one, will do as she asks and watch."
"And I will do the same" He spoke more to himself. "Hmm, what love would change the world?"
"One that could heal both body and soul."
"Ah, she brings us closer."
"Yes…our very demigod forces us to work together."
"Some amusement may come of this after all"
And the two began to work.
Ometecuhlti/Omecihuatl took its time gazing at the human priests and alien worriers below it. It could appear as a male, Ometecuhlti, or as a female, Omecihuatl. Though most of the time it appeared as a female, it now had taken on the form of both. A male with breasts and long hair adorned with feathers and jewels. His robes swayed in a breeze that never seemed to end. The world around him reminded Mayahuel the Demigod much of the Universe.
"Please, your holy one. I only ask that you bless the child for I know you see what I do." Mayahuel pleaded with the ruler over gods.
"Yes, I see the changes for good in one eye…and them for bad in the other. Why would you ask this of me, demigod?"
Mayahuel hated to be reminded that she wasn't a full goddess. She huffed a bit and rested her hands near her hips.
"She could bring the balance back to the Sun and Moon, to Twilight. She could-" she was cut off by a wave of a hand.
"I know what she could do… but what is to stop her from bringing ruin to her world? Humans are simple and greedy; she could turn in a moment."
"I do not believe she would, holy one."
"Why?"
"She's not like me…"
Day of the Full Worm Moon, (March) Tenochtitlan of Azteca
Mayahuel frowned and slotted her eyes open to the world. The sun beseeched her to rise with it. The bleeding globe of light was just peeking over the horizon and, just maybe, she could hobble back to the hut before her father woke. She stretched her sore limbs and stood. Something inside her hurt and she knew that it was not a good sign. Many people of her age often got hurt on the inside and sometimes they didn't make it. Ignoring the looks of pity and disgust, she earned from the other common folk, Mayahuel navigated her way through the winding streets and houses of her village. She hadn't been that far away, she realized. As Mayahuel hobbled, she could hear murmurs of hope and gasps of fright. Stopping and risking a look upward, Mayahuel could see the cause of the commotion. The God's Messengers were back. She could see their outlined forms standing at the tops of the various temples of the great city. She had to tell her foster-mother to watch out! They sometimes took pretty women for the sacrifice cages for their great hunts. Something reminded her of long ago and her heart raced faster. Bursting into a run and ignoring the protests of her limbs, Mayahuel sprinted down the well- worn path to the farm her family raised. She sighed when she reached the rut and saw that the dogs were still un-fed. Her family still slept. Silently climbing into her rug on the floor, the small teen pretended to be asleep. Only a few minutes later she heard the shuffling of her foster parents. She stiffened lightly when her father's sandaled foot stomped rather loudly right next to her head. Jumping up to avoid being stepped on, Mayahuel pretended to be sleepy as her father began to complain. Her "sleepiness" stopped abruptly when the man lifted her by her hair to his height and shouted in her face.
"Where were you last night, you whore?" He didn't wait for an answer.
"Well?" This time he shook her a little.
All the frightened teen could do was yelp a little, as the pain wracked her scalp.
"Wench!" with the last hurtful word out, he threw the girl down and stomped out the door.
Holding her head and biting her lip forcefully, the grieving girl stayed silent until her mother came from her bedroom. Mayahuel turned to her and hissed a few cusswords. They earned a fleeting smack to the ear. She looked into her mother's eyes of brown and spoke only once that day.
"One day…I'll be gone. I swear it." With that, she shrugged off the incident and began her day.
The Amini, the Hunter, hissed and descended the ramp to the temple below. On him, the Awa'usa, the armor, clanked menacingly. His Elder had ordered his shift to guard the temple to start and he was not looking forward to it. He clacked his lower mandibles against his mask, clashing daggers. He shivered and felt his skin bristle at the planet's atmosphere. How the Amini hated the strangeness of it. If the humans had not given them the God-like status and perfect hunts, the yautja, his kind, would probably have just killed them; not spent generations of the human's lives to teach them to build and live. He unlatched his spear from his belt and deftly squeezed the handle, releasing the duel spear points. The human priests gasped in surprise and he growled at them in response. Immediately, they fell to their knees. He shook his head in annoyance and returned to his post atop the large pyramid. There he stood for hours, never complaining, never moving, other than to survey his area assigned. Below him, life continued for the Pyode Amedha, the soft meat.
One month later…
Night of the Full Pink Moon, (April) Tenochtitlan of Azteca
Mayahuel frowned as she strode into her house. Her foster-father had not been calm of late. Her last beating had left her nearly dead on the floor. She had woken the next day in the fields, barely able to move, and had been attempting to recover for the past weeks. The teen shook her head at the noises coming from her parents' bedroom. The girl shook her hair to dry it more and removed her clothes, quickly replacing them with some fresh ones. The noises grew louder until they stopped. Mayahuel Warily looked at the door and crept past it to her bed. Suddenly, her father popped out the door in all of his naked hideousness. The fat man was disgusting. When his eyes met hers, he lurched forward.
"Let me go" she hissed, torn between a wish to burst into tears and another bring her dirty nails raking down across his face.
"A foretaste of what you'll be getting when you're eighteen." Said her foster father.
And then, slyly, horribly intimate, "You can touch it. He likes to be touched by a pretty ladies' hand."
Mayahuel snatched her hand back as if it had been burnt, and scrambled away from him, pulling the torn cloth that had been her clothing about her.
"Well now," he whispered, "The pretty girl thinks herself too good for me does she?" he moved across the floor, and Mayahuel thought wildly he is ridiculous, he is comical. You could not be afraid of a man who lunged at you with his trousers off and that thing hanging and flopping. She backed into a corner and looked about her for something to use as a weapon. He grabbed her roughly and half dragged, half threw her to her bed.
"So the pretty dear would escape me would she? Oh that'll never do…" he continued, moving his hands and pinning her with his bulk. "Did one of the boy's put it to you then? Did he do this and… this?"
His hands were pulling aside the cloth, reaching up between her legs, probing, stroking, and fingering. Mayahuel thought in horror I believe I shall be sick. If he does not stop, I will be sick in his face! Her father was panting and grunting now, a slick of sweat on his face.
"Oh, my…you are a tender one aren't you?"
"please-let me go…" she pleaded, still trying to get away.
There was a sudden convulsive movement and something gluttonous and warm spurted across Mayahuel's thighs. Her foster father sagged across her, still half on top. I can't do this anymore. I think I'll be sick. I might just faint. What is this goo? It's all over my legs, it's disgusting! The tortured girl thought to herself as her father stood and left the room without looking at her. She waited only enough time to wipe away most of the liquid from her legs, before taking her sandals and fresh clothes and jolting out the flap of the door. The wind was refreshing to her face. She walked as if she were one of the dead, not speaking and looking only at the dirt beneath her feet.
Mayahuel hissed to herself as she stumbled through the paths of the great city outskirts. It was believed that the Cihuacoatl, skull faced dead, walked the streets and kidnapped children too close to crossroads. She steadfastly avoided the streets turning points and numerous beggars. For an instant, she felt like one of them, like the dirtiest of the dirty. Mayahuel felt her tears betray her face hotly. She would be disgraced when word got around that she had run away. No one would force her back; just shun her. She would not get her rich husband and make her foster mother happy, nor would she become one of God's Messengers. She almost considered going home as the broken girl found her secret place, her glade. Slumping next to a fallen and rotted tree, the teen lost herself among the foliage of the forest, camouflaging herself. Mayahuel noticed something bright in the corner of her eye. She looked at it and nearly gasped aloud. The bird she had seen earlier lay there, his tongue lisping out of his beak and a glaze over his eyes. Mayahuel lay down next to the dead bird, allowing tears of hopelessness to loudly escape her. Now she truly understood what her sister had those years ago. Now she knew the fear and shame of her family. She sighed and gave up the hope of living past a few more days. She couldn't hide forever. The Messengers might come for her, and even if they didn't the animals would.
A few hours later, Mayahuel's mood fell even deeper as rain began to fall heavily, a seeming omen to her fate. She climbed an ancient Tule Tree (Arbol Del Tule) and settled in its large twisted branches for the night.
Even the night offered no rest for the human girl. She tossed and turned, tangling herself in the branches of her guardian tree. Nightmares haunted her dreams, humans searching, monsters eating, and a single sad woman staring at her through black hair…
Day after the Pink Moon, outside the city of Tenochtitlan
The next morning found the small girl cramped and bloody, vines tangled around her form. The beating she had received a few days before the attempted rape had been one of the worst moments of her tortured life. She winced as her wounds protested her stretch and the vines snapped in a popping sound. The world was fresh and new. Everything carried the dew of the rain and therefore it sparkled as a thousand tiny diamonds. Mayahuel shook her head from the remnants of the dream world and sat up. The teen hissed in pain and dropped from the branch, landing on her knees. She held her sides and coughed up blood. There was some pressure in her ribs that made it feel like she was trying to breath underwater and a sharp pain that raced up her spine every time she breathed. The sharp ache increased and made the torn girl cry aloud. She fell on her side and curled into a ball, whimpering at her predicament. Her vision dimmed and blinked out. The same dreams, this time with more intensity, haunted her. The girl she had seen was horrible, not at all the beauty she had witnessed before. Now she stood, her ribs broken outward and her eyelids cut off. Her eyes stared unblinking at Mayahuel and something unspoken roared around the black clouds and space. Get up Mayahuel… Get up!
Mayahuel's eyes shot open and she shivered, letting beads of sweat roll down her face and back. Something rumbled next to her, sounding much like thunder. Padded paws trotted against the wet dirt and the ruffling of fur sounded. She recognized in the corner of her eye a jaguar. She barely thought to move. The girl, forgetting her beaten body, jumped up and into the tree, she had fallen from earlier. Time slowed and everything seemed to take minutes to happen. The cat reacted almost as fast. Just as she scrambled to the highest branch, the large feline's claw caught her right leg. She screamed in horror and agony, her body convulsing and rippling. Almost as fast as she had gotten into the tree, she was on the ground again. Mayahuel landed in a heap on the cat. The beast yowled and jumped up, pouncing and hissing, limping on what must have been a broken leg. Mayahuel couldn't cry, she couldn't move. So she would not have to appeal to the God's Messengers. She wouldn't have to deal with the shame much longer. As the cat pounced, Mayahuel heard a snap from a branch. She closed her eyes, waiting for the impact, and smiled.
Don't wake me if I'm dreaming…
Only a few feet from the broken girl's position sat an Amini, a hunter, in the wide branches of a Bodhi tree. He was garbed in thick silver metal, that of the Gods, and fishnet wiring. The worrier shook his head and hissed a sigh. As he shook his head, thick dreadlocks of obsidian swayed with him. He crouched as the cat hit the girl and watched the feline attempt to get at her throat. Surprisingly, she had managed to hurt the creature, in spite of the fact that she herself was badly wounded. Something then came over him. A memory from long ago perhaps, and he was lost for a moment in something he did not want to remember.
She was crying softly, he could see that from behind Dachande. She had said something about being a Queenbearer and that had bothered many of the elders there. But it were her eyes that spoke volumes…
He tensed and sprang from the large branch, snapping it nearly in half. Knocking the cat back and growling at it in a challenge, he smiled from behind his mask. This way beat guarding duty. The feline looked at him in shock for a moment and resumed its former anger and hungry expression. The animal's skin would look good on her, he thought. Smiling, the Amini danced with Death.
He attempted to get as little blood on the skin as possible. Behind him, on the other side of the cave, the human girl moaned. Turning for a moment, the Amini, the Hunter, watched her go silent. He stripped the rest of the skin from the dead animal and stood to hang it on a branch outside the cave entrance. This mountain was littered with small caves and it had been one of his many relaxation places when he was not on duty. Finished with that task, he turned to the small human. She was attractive for humans. Or, she would have been if the wounds hadn't obscured her real appearance. He stepped closer the scent of death wafted to her nose. She stirred a little. Shaking his head, the Amini reached back and unlatched his med kit from his back compartment on his armor. He brought it forward and opened it with a slight pressure on the fingerprint area. Smiling, he pulled the human's hair from her face and laid her in a recovery position. The Amini, the Hunter, carefully removed the ragged scraps of cloth she called her clothing, tossing them carelessly outside the cave. He ignored her supple mounds and core of her body and brought out a small tube of florescent blue liquid. Mixing the solution, the Amini began to heal her.
A few hours later, the deprived girl began to stir a little more. She opened her eyes and frowned. Why was she not dead? Who had saved her? Why did they wake me up? She wobbled a little as she sat up. Then, feeling better, Mayahuel shook her legs and stood. For several moments, the room spun. Mayahuel looked to the ceiling of the cavern and steadied herself. Suddenly, her strength gave out and the Mayahuel closed her eyes, waiting for the stone floor's cold embrace. She felt something very different. Strong, muscular arms wrapped around her waist and supported her weight as if she weighed nothing. Mayahuel opened her eyes and screamed.
The Amini gasped as her screech reached his ears. He growled as she attempted to drop to her knees and bow. His hold tightened on her arms and waist in anger as he forced her to look at him.
"Amehuan tlachia nehua." He spoke quietly.
Mayahuel was surprised to hear her language come from his mouth. You look at me. He had said. She looked upward and met the cold eyes of his mask. Did he know who she was? What she had done? She shivered, more from fear than fatigue, and whimpered as he let her feet gently touch the ground. Still, he did not let go, he seemed lost in thought.
One could get lost in those eyes, one could get lost indeed if he was not careful. The Amini continued to stare into her eyes, the human vision on his mask activated. Her emerald globes stared back at him, heavy with fear. He sighed and spoke gently again.
"Amiqui?" he asked. Thirsty?
"Amo." She lied after a moment of silence. No.
Sensing she had been lying, the alien huffed a bit and shook his head. He gently swept her off her feet and carried her to the large river and ponds that lay a few yards out of the cave. She still looked nervous. Placing her on the ground, the Amini stared at her. The water did look sweet, but Mayahuel refused to drink in front of him. For moments, they waged a silent war. After mere seconds, the Amini, the Hunter, growled deep in his throat. Mayahuel dipped her hands into the chilly waters and lifted them to her crimson lips. The water was just as cool and sweet as she had imagined it. It ran down her throat, waking her up and giving her strength. After her fill, the Amini scooped her up again and walked steadily back to the cave. He had a few questions. Unfortunately, she beat him to asking.
"Why did you save me?" she huffed.
"Because, I had no reason not to." He did not like her tone with him.
"I wanted to die! Leave me alone!" she screamed.
"Human!" He roared. "You will speak respectfully to me!"
She shook her head and let tears run down her face. If he only knew.
"If…if you knew what I had done to my family…you'd kill me right now." She sobbed openly.
Instantly he felt sorry for her. He had not meant to make the small girl cry. Emotions sucked.
"What?" He asked as he leaned closer. "What have you done?"
"I…" she stopped for a moment. " I ran away from home…him…he tried to..."
With the last word, she broke down and cried. The Amini, the Hunter, had no clue what to do. He stood there awkwardly and stared at her. She was broken; he could tell she had been through enough to disturb anyone.
"What did he do?"
"He tried to rape me. M-my own father!" and she could say no more.
The Amini was aghast at this information. As the young woman sobbed, he stared at the wall. To his culture, rape was one of the worst things that could happen to a female (although they were generally bigger than males). To the humans, it was the right of the father to take his daughter. The Amini, the Hunter, went through procedure in his head to see what was called for in this situation. She was human and she had run away from home so she was void when it came to the law. But something inside him called for compassion. Something his race had very little of. The Amini, the Hunter, shook his head in shame when he remembered what he had to do. Purity in a human female was imperative to keep her alive this time and if he wanted to save her, he was going to have to…check her body.
"I have to check."
"Check what?"
"To see…if you're still pure."
"What? I am, I'm pure I swear! Please don't do that! Please!" she was hysterical.
He shook his head and his shoulders slumped. He didn't want to hurt her. The Amini, the Hunter, frowned on the inside of his mask. Sometimes he hated being compassionate. He could just take her home and be done with her. But the thought of her being successfully raped next time made him angrier than he had been in a long time. It was such an injustice!
"I have to…that or take you home." He gazed at her fearful eyes.
Mayahuel cried as she protected what lay between her legs with her hands. Not again! The thought of him brought her back to the early day and the feelings of her foster-father touching her. She attempted to get away from him. He did not attempt to follow her, until she got close to the edge of the cave. The large male shot his hand out and pinned her with it. With his other, he pinned her hands above her head. She screamed and thrashed as he freed one hand and plunged it below. Mayahuel thought she would be sick. She could feel his fingers between her legs, delving deeper and deeper until they made contact with her hymen. She cried and thrashed as he pulled his hand from her and stood. It had taken less than a minute for him to verify her purity. But the damage done to her would be permanent. His shoulders were slumped and he stood in a position of disgrace.
"I'm sorry for...that." he apologized.
Mayahuel crumpled up and put her hands between her legs. It was the only place that didn't hurt. She whimpered as he drew close and brushed a few stray hairs from her face. He was gentle.
"What is your name little one?" He whispered.
"M-Mayahuel." Tears began to fall again.
The alien frowned at her apparent fear and the name she had given him. There was a little girl by the name of Mayahuel said to be missing and un-honorable. Her story proved it. He wiped away the stray tears with his thumb and leaned closer. She flinched at his touch. Her breath was ragged.
"You…ran away from home... because of your father?"
"Foster father."
"Your foster father?"
"Yes"
The Amini let out a stream of profanities.
"Do not go by the name Mayahuel anymore." His tone was final.
"Why?" she looked up at him.
"The others will kill you. You are…un-honorable."
"y-you won't kill me? Why?" She sounded like she wanted him to.
"…no." he was struck by another fleeting moment of compassion for the girl. He had to get rid of those.
There was a long pause only broken by the hushed sounds of Mayahuel's sobs. The Amini hissed and decided. He could take her to his temple and substitute another of the slave girls for her body. All he'd have to say is the gods killed her. He could mutilate the body's face and limbs to make her unrecognizable, then give the real girl another name to go by and possibly save her. It sounded more complicated than it really was.
"I will give you a new name… it might save you."
"Why?" she was still shaken.
"You are…innocent. No harm done."
She gazed at him as if he was an angel. Complete with wings.
He thought of a proper name for the little damsel. Chalchiuitl? (Emerald) No, not after the color of her eyes. Cihuaton? (Little Woman) No, too offending. The firecracker of a girl would probably hit him. Xochiyotl? He thought for a moment. It sounded graceful. "Heart of a gentle flower"…perfect.
"Thank you… your Holiness."
He was ripped from his trance by her soft voice.
"y-you're welcome…" For what, he did not know. "I think I will name you…Xochiyotl."
Mayahuel was stunned by his given name for her. "Heart of a gentle flower?" she frowned and looked down.
"Why…that?" she whispered.
"Do you not like it?" he answered.
Mayahuel looked upward and found his face to be only inches from her own. She flinched back and held herself tighter. Again, he brushed stray hairs from her face. She frowned deeper and shivered at his touch. The compassion flew from his heart as if a giant hand had swiped it away. Suddenly, he lost all sweetness and stood.
"I have made clothing for you. Wear it. I must return to my temple, I have been gone far too long."
Mayahuel looked upward and nodded. There was an icy silence before he nodded and turned to leave.
"W-wait!" Mayahuel attempted to stand.
Instead, she settled for crawling on the floor. The alien turned and gazed back at the pathetic girl. He hissed and clicked his mandibles against his mask.
"What…what's your name? Your Holiness?" she whispered from her position at his feet.
"Cit'lal-i, Guard of the temple of Mixcoatl, God of the Hunt." He spoke matter-of-factly.
"Can…can I serve you? Will you give me a chance…to be more…than just a dead body?"
Cit'lal-i thought for a moment. He had no use for a slave, but… she was shamed for something she had not done. Another moment of compassion hit him. How annoying.
"I reside at the Temple of Mixcoatl." And he turned without another word.