A/N: Calm before the storm.

Sciencegal - Xander's led a shitty life that's about to get worse...

DuckiePray - Those two have been great for each other, more than I anticipated they would. As Leo begins to rise again, Coyo starts to stumble and he has the new footing to help her along. Unexpected turns, man. Like Xander. I'm glad you feel for him because, well, you'll see.

CHAPTER 30: TLAHCOYAN

The time to strike the Earth Protection Force had come, and Leonardo could hardly believe it. His last two months had felt more like short weeks—despite the strategizing, training, and continuous debates amongst the Languu and K'ekchi. Part of him wished Yolotli hadn't tracked the soldiers so thoroughly. Still, another part longed to see how Coyolxauhqui would flourish in the situation.

'She has a chance to shine,' the mutant thought. 'If the Elders would stop forcing ideas into her head, they would see what I do. She can finish this war. She can save her people. And then…'

Leo frowned as a seizing pain hardened his stomach. He leaned over a sheet of parchment set within the fire pit's light, and his quill pen marked it in bold, Japanese characters.

Sensei,

My letters have been scarce since last Fall. Forgive me. I've been busy, but now it's late, and I can't sleep.

My time here is drawing to a close. I can sense it. We're preparing for something big, something that will end a fifty-year conflict. The mess here will come to a head. The crazy thing is it doesn't scare me. I honestly feel like we're going to win.

Leo inhaled the woody scent of the fire, continuing.

Winning. That's what scares me. Because when we win, I must return home.

Don't get me wrong. I miss everybody. I love them. And I bet much has changed. But I'll have to leave someone here. She's helped me through so much. Truth be told, every time I think about telling her my plans, my voice leaves me. I look into her sun eyes and become scared. Scared I'll hurt her. Scared she'll cry for me. Scared I'll never see her smile again…

That's probably the last problem you want to hear, right? If I could've grown attached to any woman, why couldn't it have been someone in New York?

Leo blinked his stinging eyes then pushed the parchment aside. He couldn't finish the letter, not without crying, and he chuckled as he watched the low flames flicker in the fire pit. If only his brothers could see him so emotional over a human; they'd never let him live it down. And yet, any teasing would be worth seeing Coyo's smile every morning.

Too bad those days weren't meant to last.

Every man, woman, and child in K'ekchi Village gathered around a make-shift platform at Tlahcoyan's center, where Huitzilopochtli watched his sister bathe in the sunset's warm rays. The Chieftain fidgetted under their stares, hands wringing, eyes erratic, and voice unsteady.

"Today, well, today..." Coyolxauhqui cleared her throat. "Not long ago, we burned more dead. Th—they have risen to Ometeotl's side, and their names are memorialized in our hearts and...and Ilnahio."

"Eel-nah-he-oh?" Leonardo whispered beside Huitzi. "That's the place where we scattered the ashes, right? The graveyard?"

"Born of dust, return to dust," the man whispered back. "But as you saw, it is less of a graveyard and more of a memorial."

"A war memorial."

"Decades in the making."

What leverage Ilnahio gave Coyo's speech left her brother curious, and everyone remained quiet as she collected her thoughts. Perhaps that lent strength to her tone. Or maybe it came from the nod Leonardo sent.

"Times have changed since our ancestors first marked their bodies with Texohuitztli," she said. "Eztaca forced us to flee south from our native homeland, and we have spent generations in hiding from not only the Yaoqui but other tribes as well. We have dwindled: spiritually, physically, emotionally, and Coyo understand cultural stability is almost all that remains. You expect her to harden, to accept fate, to become a model chief, a warlord. She cannot."

Huitzi lowered his brows, gaze set on Leonardo. "Where is she going with this?" he asked.

The turtle-man kept focused on the Chieftain yet shrugged.

Murmurs rose across Tlahcoyan, quelled by Coyo's hand gesture and escalating voice, "Traditionally, we fight for the fallen whose ashes fertilize Ilnahio. We seek vindication for those taken by Yaoqui, those we pray Ometeotl will receive. Like Tatli and Mantli."

Sharp gasps cut through the silence—disproval from the Elders. However, Huitzi held his tongue. Coyo knew the impact of such intimate terms, and, for once, her smile showed a fearlessness in using them.

"We are mostly orphans," she continued, "so consider why our parents died. They died for us. Not so we could keep fighting, but so we could live. That is what Coyo want most. Freedom." The Chieftain wavered in voice and body yet kept smiling as she studied her people. "Yo has found where the Yaoqui hide. When night rises, our Tonalquizca will strike their heart. We should not do this with vengeance or rage. When we gather, when we face those tlacatetza, do it for our future. Do it so the next K'ekchi generation can grow up unafraid. Do it so—so—"

Coyo choked on her words; Huitzi found himself struck by the scene. Despite the tears that stained her cheeks, his sister stood upright, glowing from the evening haze as well as an inner passion. Was this what bravery looked like on her? It looked stunning, and only one name entered the man's mind when he considered who to thank.

"Fight, so our children have a reason to laugh," Coyo added once collected. "Love, promise, and peace are what I fight for. If any disagree—"

"We do not." Huitzi expected Izel to interject first. She did not. Tlaloc stepped forward, regarding his Chieftain with proud posture. "I will follow you," he said. "For our future. Wherever that may lead."

Ollin and Sanite approached as well, with the youngest warriors beside them. They surrounded Coyolxquhqui, adorned in animal-skin armor, spears, and wooden breastplates. One by one, they bowed to their knees. Coyo's tears increased, but she did not begin shaking until the entire tribe followed suit—including her brother, best friend, and Leonardo.

"Kindness and positivity are Coyo's greatest strengths," said Leonardo, head lowered. "This is what I have been waiting for everyone else to realize."

Huitzi smiled in return. "You were right," he admitted. "And I have never seen a more beautiful site."

"Me either…" Leonardo's voice trailed off as the crowd stood again.

They cheered, rallied by their Chieftain's laughter, and Huitzi watched the turtle-man steel himself with a heavy heart. 'Great Ometeotl. Leonardo and Coyo share a bond lovers would envy. When the time comes, can he bring himself to leave?'

"Leo! Leo, Coyo did it!"

Leonardo chuckled, smiling at the woman who parted the energetic masses. "I heard," he told her.

"Teueltiuh finally speaks her mind!" Izel sang. The skinhead hugged her shorter friend from behind as Tlaloc approached. "The whole village believes in you, as they should. I wish I could come."

Coyo's round lips turned lopsided. "You are awful with a weapon."

"I draw more of my blood than others'."

"I will prepare the Tonalquizca," Tlaloc said. "Ayotl, are those your weapons?"

"Huh?" Leonardo glanced down at the long swords tethered to a leather belt around his waist. "Uh, yeah. I got them from my old campsite. The place had been raided, probably by EPF. They took my gear, the bastards."

"The blades are rusted."

"Well, they were in the ground for a few months, so..."

"Ground?" The warrior shook confusion from his face. "We have time. We will clean them, and if Teo permit, reinforce them with Ayannite."

"Wait, you can do that? Can they do that?" Leonardo looked down at Huitzi with expectant eyes.

"If they agree," Huitzi answered.

"You boys go play with pointy things," Izel said, shooing them away. "We will prepare supper. Warriors cannot storm an enemy base with empty stomachs."

"They could, technically," Leonardo added.

"And give away your positions when your stomachs growl?"

"Touché."

"It is decided. Come, Coyo!" Izel pulled her best friend to the cauldrons, and Huitzi tailed them when Tlaloc and Leonardo headed for the smithery. If the women planned on cooking, he planned on snitching samples.

Nothing matched the splendor of Izel's supper. Sliced Naranjillas, stewed beans, and fried Manzano served atop a Plantain leaf? Delicious. The river fish that had been seasoned and roasted in that same Plantain leaf? Juicy. All this accompanied by a small portion of Encebollado? Heavenly. Izel was salivating just waiting for her guests to arrive!

"Wipe your mouth, child," Nenetl chided. The old woman smirked, using her staff to help lower her body onto a straw mat beside Huitzilopochtli.

"You can be so slow, Citli," Izel countered.

"Had you helped us older ladies, maybe I would have been faster."

"Doubtful. You had it handled anyway. All I wanted was—" A happy memory to hold onto while Coyo would be away. Then the Chieftain had to go argue that preparing a meal with the entire tribe would be better. "So," she added, somewhat bitter, "here we are: one giant ring of hungry people. Waiting. Where are Leo and Tlaloc?"

"Relax, we're here," Leonardo spoke in English. He kneeled on a mat beside Coyolxauhqui before Tlaloc could.

The warrior soured yet accepted defeat by sitting at the ayotl's side without complaint. "His weapons are ready," Taloc told the group.

"Re-forged in Ayannite," Leonardo added. The long blades clacked together as their wielder showed them off. He moved so fast, Izel leaned back when they materialized above her head, although she trusted the creature would not harm her. "They're lighter now, stronger."

"A lot like you, huh?" asked Izel in Nahuatl.

Leo paused, half standing. His eyes trailed the dark-metal no longer chipped or spotted brown. "Guess so," he muttered. Then he smiled. "Although their metamorphosis required less time."

"But an equal amount of heat, surely."

"And pain."

"Impressive," Huitzi said, voice dull as Leo's hands flexed. "Can we eat?"

Izel sent the bony man a smirk. "Still upset Citli made you work?"

"A man knows better than to spoil his appetite." Nenetl shook her decorated staff until it jangled. "Idle hands lead to self-indulgence, Huitzi."

"Witch."

Izel stifled laughter with her best friend. Rarely did Huitzi's boyish side surface, but crisp shuffling across Tlahcoyan cut the banter short. The Elders gained their tribe's attention with shriveled hands; four sets, all raised towards the yellow sky.

"We give thanks to Ometeotl for this meal," Acalan announced. The senior Yaocatl stood strong like a Tonalquizca, although Izel knew the only time had he wielded weapons had been when he crafted them in his youth.

"We prepared it with His love and the care of our people," Yoalt added. His saggy body was every bit as scarred as Nopaltzin's, his successor, and he exchanged a respectable nod with the warrior's heir.

"Some work less than others," Matlal added. Her sunken gaze found Izel, but the Calpocatl superior showed mercy in continuing. "Still, any progress we make with each other should be cherished."

"Which is why we must speak of our Honored Chief." Xochitl, the eldest of the old, trembled from his thin limbs to his raspy voice, although he was not fearful. His smile had but one tooth, his hair lost beyond hope, and his grandchildren aided him towards Coyolxauhqui's side of the clearing. "Where we saw preservation, she saw decay. What we clung to, she questioned. Now she changes our minds on why we fight as well. These differences made us fear she would be as Tacapantzin. We were wrong."

"She hid," Yoalt amended, "yet never became Calpollitopan."

Matlal hummed. "Despite the...crude language, we understand change and progressiveness is necessary. Perhaps there could be exceptions, even friendly songs at Xochicuicatl."

Izel jabbed an elbow into Coyo's side, although the Chieftain was too spellbound to notice.

"Tradition turned us rigid like our old joints," Xochitl said. "While we may disagree on many accounts, we also apologize, Coyolxauhqui. We held you to a standard that never brought us success in the past."

"It was one we once considered necessary and never stopped," Yoalt added.

"You do not fit it," Xochitl continued. "Nor did you want to. That is acceptable. We only ask that you forgive us for forcing it upon you."

"Yes," Coyo spoke clearly and with a broad smile. "Coyo forgive."

"Then our night is blessed. To Ometeotl and our Honored Chief!"

Tlahcoyan erupted in cheers when the Elders bowed then returned to their seats. Dull chatter soon followed, accompanied by clanking wood as famished children devoured the meals they had been smelling. Huitzi lost all manners alongside them; guess it was a rare day where Omipalan increased his hunger rather than decreased it.

"At last," Izel grumbled. She lifted her stew, inhaled the aroma, and noticed Leonardo sent his bowel a pensive stare. "Try," she told him.

The creature sent her a look. "Last time you said that I ate ants."

"There are no ants. Trust me. Drink, drink."

After a long pause, Leo sipped the yellow-brown broth. There was a satisfying slurp as he sucked in meaty bits and he chewed as if the food would bite him back.

"Good, yes?" the skinhead questioned in English. "Is Encebollado."

"What's that?" Leo replied, swallowing.

"Turtle soup." Leonardo paled; Izel had no idea he could turn so white and fought through wheezes to add, "No, no. I jest. Is tree slugs."

The creature regained some green coloring of a different shade. He gagged, staring at his stew as Izel's chuckle evolved into a chortle. Her sides ached more than the slap Coyo gave her shoulder and sweat formed on her brow when Leo handed the bowel to the Chieftain.

"Turtle soup is Zarapatoca," Coyo told Leo. She pushed the bowel back. "This no Zarapoatoca. Encebollado. Fish."

"Ye—yeah, but"—Izel inhaled noisily—"he would not try them otherwise."

"So Leo's does have slugs?" Coyo whispered in Nahuatl. The skinhead let her grin answer for her. " Huehuei Ometeotl, Izel."

"What? He should be more adventurous. How many chances does he have left to try our dishes?"

The atmosphere grew somber at the crackle of a fire. Izel stiffened where she had fallen on her side in laughter, watching joy fall from her friends' faces.

"Tonight, we fight the Yaoqui," Coyo said in Nahuatl. She stared with unseeing eyes, switching stews with Leonardo and sucking up a hearty slug. Leo shivered at her side, but the Chieftain's remained unfazed.

"Hope you have a better plan than following a cochotl through enemy territory," Huitzi told his sister.

Coyo spoke while chewing, "I do."

"No, you do not," Tlaloc argued. "Unless you mean the insane one where you are captured on purpose."

"We have no choice." Leo looked down at the curly-haired woman then the warrior. "Forest base or not, this is the EPF. They tend to overcomplicate security measures. Yo has gone through the trouble of scoping out traps and cameras, but without a hacker..."

Izel furrowed her brows. "What is a 'hacker'?"

"Someone I'm missing right about now," Leo answered. He sighed, slumped his shoulders, and Izel pushed herself back into a sitting position as Coyo spoke up.

"Coyo trust Tonalquiza will follow safely. Her surrender will give them the chance to enter their base."

"But"—Huitzi choked on his words—"you will be vulnerable."

The Chieftain met her brother with warm eyes. "We are all vulnerable. Coyo chooses to make that vulnerability an advantage."

"A Trojan Horse," Leo added.

Huitzi glared at the creature. "And if the Yaoqui suspect it is a trap?"

"They will. Still, what counter-measures can they have against people who until now have been nothing more than shadows to them?"

Izel shut up, maybe for the same reason everyone else did. Leonardo made a fair point, and she would rather spend time eating than considering odds or 'what if' situations. The group exchanged smiles when they returned to their plates; however, behind the casualness lied the realization that the meal could be the last they ever shared.