A/N: I'm sorry.
DuckiePray - Coyo likes to believe in the good of others.
Sciencegal - Psychic powers call for some intensity.
CHAPTER 32: DISTANCE
Several figures stumbled towards K'ekchi Village gates, and Huitzilopochtli squinted for a better view of their dark silhouettes. At first, he noticed their Aynnite spears, which reflected beams of morning light. Then the blood smeared over their Texohuitztli and their war-worn faces came into view. Ollin. Coalt and Huemac. Sacnite. Coaxoch. Tlaloc. All were accounted for, save…
"Huitzi," Izel's voice trembled, "Coyo, Leo."
Her fingers tightened around Huitzi's bicep—from thumb to forefinger—as the man's gaze found Tlaloc. The warrior struggled at the group's tail end, gimping, muddied, and stoic. When he glanced up the hill, Huitzi's stomach sank. Had the Tonalquizca lost? No; none of them would have returned if they had. Which meant they had won. But at what cost?
"No," he whispered.
'It is not as you fear, Huitzi,' a layered voice said.
It soothed the teacher with unfathomable assurance, although it was Tlaloc's smile that steadied his heart. Yards behind the warrior, rainforest plants divided to reveal Coyolxauhqui on the arm of Leonardo. She put little pressure on her right side, and Yolotli chirped from his perch atop the turtle-man's head. So, she was wounded yet alive? Thank Ometeotl.
Dirt flung across Huitzi's shin as the pressure on his arm almost forced him backward. Izel raced downhill, rolling once, until she threw herself at her best friend. Yo squawked when the girls hit the ground, and he tugged at the skinhead's poncho in an attempt to lift the burden off Coyo. The Chieftain only laughed, though, despite the obvious pain she endured.
Red-faced and crying, she hugged Izel, yelling towards the gates crowded by her people, "We did it! The war is over! We are free!"
A moment passed as the news sank in. Then, the whole village cheered.
Drumbeats pulsed through Izel's chest, matched in intensity only by the foot stomps of those dancing around Tlahcoyan's bonfire and her own excitement. She clapped her hands to the rhythm and swallowed another bite of the fruits she had been gorging on since sundown.
"Coyo," she whined, "you should look more alive. You won!"
Coyolxauhqui kept focused on the high flames, her expression dazed. "This is real," she whispered.
"I thought you understood that," Izel countered. She jabbed her friend in the side gently because she knew the Chieftain's ribs were still tender.
"I did before I napped. When I woke…"
"It felt like a dream?"
"We have been fighting for so long. Now…"
"We can hide again. It will take much work, especially since the Teo will move with us, but by the time those Yaoqui beasts reestablish themselves, we will be long gone."
"Another pilgrimage. New land. A new home."
"A new beginning. For us all." Izel glanced towards Leonardo and Huitzilopochtli near the ring of celebratory dancers. They stood beside several pots filled with Chicha, and Izel sniggered as Huitzi and Ollin goaded the turtle-creature into dunking his cup into the alcohol.
"Chief! Chief!" A boy slid to a halt before Coyo and Izel, his classmates at his heels.
"Icnoyotl," Izel said. "Trouble with Yo again?"
"Huh?" Icnoyotl scrunched his sweaty face then shook his head. "I have not seen Yo tonight."
"He is roosting," Coyo added. Oh; guess that would explain why Izel had no competition when it came to her fruit platter.
"Huemac and Coalt were telling the story," Icnoyotl continued. He panted, likely winded from his dash through Tlahcoyan. "Is it true?"
"Which part?" asked Coyo.
Icnoyotl's heavy-set friend stepped forward, his tone wonder-filled, "Did a Yaoqui really help? Fight for you?"
"You made him, right?" a doe-eyed girl interjected.
The Chieftain smiled at the children. "He did help," she said. "But I did not make him."
"How?" the same girl asked. "He was your enemy."
"We were his people's enemy. Not his. He fell into an unwanted role and, with Zaddir's help, I convinced him he could defy that role."
"Defy?" Icnoyotl scrunched his face again. "Like, go against it?"
"That is not what the Elders teach," the doe-eyed girl said.
"No, it is what Coyo has spent seasons trying to teach them," Izel countered. Call her defensive; she could not help squaring her shoulders and sending a sidelong look at the cluster of old folks who talked amongst themselves.
"The Elders apologized," continued Coyo, "even though their way is not my own. Kids"—the Chieftain reached for Icnoyotl's hand—"I also fell into a role I did not want. I fought it for the longest time, and when I embraced it, I did so on my terms. That choice is one I hope to give your generation."
"So we can be what we want?" the heavy-set friend questioned. "I will not be forced into the Yaocatl just because I am a boy?"
"He can work with the Calpocatl," the girl said. "I could take his place instead? Forge weapons?"
Coyo sent her a wide grin. "If you work hard through the labor, I do not see why not. Although, without a war, the Yaocatl will be far less busy."
The girl laughed. "That will give me time to make all new kinds of weapons for hunting!"
"I look forward to that. To all of you forging your own path."
"It is too late for me to switch as well?" added Izel. She leaned into Coyo, head resting on the Chieftain's shoulders.
"What else would you do?" Coyo countered. "You are too lazy to forge metal, have no patience to teach, and will not listen to Nenetl long enough to learn medicine."
"Ouch. Thought we were friends."
"We are. And as your friend, I suggest you continue muddling through your art projects."
"Can you at least talk with the Teo about my candidacy for Texohuitztli painting? War or no, we are still bound to protect them, and I have studied the symbols thorough—"
"Izel, can I borrow you?" Izel lifted her head towards where Leonardo offered a three-fingered hand and quirked an eyebrow. "Please?" he added.
Coyolxauhqui looked curious, but given how the children clamored for more questions, she would be occupied for a while. Izel sent her friend a smirk before taking the turtle-creature's offer then followed him to an area where shadows from the dancers loomed like giants between Tlahcoyan's outermost pillars. Huitzilopochtli and Tlaloc waited there. Zaddir and Nenetle as well.
"Suspicious," the skinhead said, eyeing Leonardo.
"This about what we spoke of before, right, Cuamahui?" Huitzi asked.
"Yes," answered Leo. He smiled, although it seemed strained. "You are here because, well, you are the closest friends I have in this village."
"Though not all of them," Izel countered. "What about Coyo?"
"There is a reason she is excluded," Tlaloc said.
Leo's strained smile fell. There could be only one reason for such pain.
"You are leaving," Izel whispered.
Her voice almost drowned under the drumbeats, and Leo shifted with a sigh, saying, "I told Huitzi that it might be time. It is. Really, you guys have given me so much. A push, a refuge"—Leo faced Nenetl and Huitzi then Izel and Tlaloc—"a chance to be me, a reason to defend others again. And"—his attention fell on Zaddir—"a way to heal. I can never repay you. Not fully. But I did what I could."
"Now you are strong enough to walk home," Huitzi concluded.
"Fly, technically," the turtle-creature said.
His jab at humor was weak, though; even Tlaloc sounded depressed. "Coyo cannot hear this news alongside Zaddir."
"Their Mozallo would cause trouble," Nenetl said with a nod.
'The concern is appreciated, Leonardo.' Zaddir's voice rung with the familiar drawl of Izel's mother and her father's matter-of-fact tone. 'However, are we not a stepping stone for what you dread most?'
Leo grimaced, the folds of his green face lightened by flicking lights. "I have tried so many times to explain," he said. "When I tell her—"
"It will take courage" Huitzi interjected. "And the sorrow will be great. For both of you. We are not blind; we have seen how close you two have become even without…"
"Their bond is unique." Nenetl sent the teacher and Zaddir a crooked smile. Did that mean she knew of Leo and Coyo's alien connection? "Saying goodbye is never easy. Is it necessary?"
Leo nodded.
"Otherwise, he would not have gathered us," Tlaloc added.
"I have no need to say bye to the whole village," Leo continued. "I thank them through you."
"And Coyo will be the last you bid farewell," Izel said.
"Honestly?" The turtle-creature grinned sadly. "It would be easier if I just snuck away. Boarded my plane without a word. But that would be unfair. I, uh, plan to tell her. Tonight. Outside the village, away from everyone, especially Zaddir."
Leo kept smiling. Why? So his resolve would keep? Or to alleviate the situation's grim reality? It did no good either way; the turtle-creature choked on a laugh and Izel tingled at the thought of her best friend's pain.
"You will crush her," Izel managed through trembling lips.
"Forgive me," Leo whispered. His cursed smile remained. "I must go home. To my brothers and sisters. My father. You understand."
"Quema. It still hurts, though."
"There will be distance between us," said Huitzi, shaky, "that does not mean your place here will ever be replaced or forsaken."
'Should you ever need us, reach out through Mozallo,' Zaddir added.
"You and your kin will always be welcome," Nenetl said.
Tlaloc snorted yet half-grinned as everyone faced him. "You have fought as fiercely as any other Tonalquizca. If your brothers share as much honor, I would gladly fight alongside them, Ayotl. Under my command, of course."
"Of course," Leo said, smile strengthening. "Thank you. All of you. For everything. And please, please be there for Coyo when I—I cannot. She…" She meant to world to him. How could he not admit that? Everyone knew; he must have realized. Yet he would leave anyway? "I will be gone by morning," he continued. "Izel."
Izel nodded, already aware of what would come. But what could prepare her for the tears Coyo would spill? She had a feeling her best friend would sob harder than ever before, and nothing could make that easier to bare—not a warning, not a chance to rehearse her consoling lines, and not Leonardo's smile. All that did was remind the skinhead of the happiness Coyo wished to prologue with him, and how his departure would leave her unfulfilled and hollow.
'He is trusting me to comfort her,' Izel thought. She held still as Leo hugged her. 'But how? Without him, she will have no strength left.'
That realization scared Izel more than any Yaoqui ever could.
Coyolxauhqui felt something was wrong. Not so much with the universe or K'ekchi or Teo, as with somewhere deep inside her. It gnawed at her—an untouchable ache at her soul's center—and she glowered at the night sky when it worsened.
'Stupid pool,' she thought, 'you were supposed to make me feel better.' The woman sighed, arms swaying in the warm waters that submerged her body.
"There you are, Coyo. I've been looking for you."
Coyo hardly heard Leonardo, but she sensed his nearness and sighed again.
"The kids said you left suddenly," the turtle-man added. "You alright? Why are you in Ilnahio ?"
In her vision's corner, Coyo could make out wooden grave markers. Leo weaved through them, his pace slowing as he neared the pool's grassy bank. Made sense; he had never seen the Cuaii Pool at night, and it was beautiful. Its clear waters sparkled as if in the sunlight, not moonlight, its sides tinted an ethereal blue by crystal-like clusters.
Coyo anchored herself along the sandy bottom then looked up at the turtle-man. "Tlen?" she asked.
"How are these things glowing?" Leo countered. "I feel like I know, but…"
The woman ran her toes against the smooth crystals. "They Cuaii. From Languu. Many things from Languu glow."
"I noticed."
"Teo place them here many seasons ago. Sometimes, ease grief, make K'ekchi calm."
"Like incense or a salve?"
"Almost."
"Is this anything like the water your mother drank? The kind that healed her? Before it was poisoned, I mean."
"Amo." Coyo trod water to keep upright and watched Leo dip a hand into the pool. "The river cycled with Languu plants," she continued. "No drink this water. Make next day terrible."
"How come you never showed me this befo—holy shit!"
Coyo jerked backward with a gasp. "What? What?" she asked. "Great Ometeotl."
The woman's eyes widened. Slender lights ran through Leonardo's hand to his shoulder. They lightened his skin to a pale-leaf color and made him shiver when the gash across his palm healed.
"Well," Leo patted where the wound had once been, "that's interesting."
"How?" Coyo whispered.
"Dunno. What effects does Cuaii have on Languu? They're a, uh," the turtle-man furrowed his eye ridges, "tool, right? Or amplifier. To keep them balanced. That's the sense I get."
"Yes, but—"
"Guess Recro-12 tricks them into thinking I'm Languu. Wish we had known that when I first came here; I would've been walking in no time." Leo smiled and laughed, although his joy felt forced. Was that because he shared the same wrongness that haunted Coyo?
"What is wrong?" she asked, leaving the pool. Outside, she felt cold and weighted, and she wrung her long breechcloth with a frown. "War is won. People are free. Is time for celebration. Yet there is something inside Coyo, something painful. It is…uncomfortable."
"Tell me about it," Leo said.
"Does Leo know it?"
"I…" The turtle-man inhaled then stepped back.
Thunders from distant drums and storms made his gaze seem solemn, and the nightlife calls that echoed throughout the rainforest faded under Coyo's quickening heart. No; this could not be what she feared. Maybe there was another issue: like concern for her tribe's move or how the Elders would adjust to her change in job assignments and priorities. Nothing more.
"Coyo," Leonardo started. The woman shook her head. "Coyo, please. Listen. This is hard for me, too."
He knew the wrong feeling, why Coyolxauhqui left the village, her sense of standing on a crumbling cliff—all of it. She prayed for Ometeotl to freeze the moment. Still, it continued as if it were the only thing happening in the universe.
"It—it is not time," whispered Coyo. "It cannot be."
"A year in your village passes by fast, doesn't it?"
"Leo could spend more seasons. Help move. Build. Sing 'Sakura, Sakura' at next Xochicuicatl."
Leo's grin returned. "I would love that. You know I would. But I think you realized a while ago that this time was coming."
She had yet considered the idea nonsense. Why would he want to leave?
"Believe me, it's not that I want to leave," Leo said. "I"—the mutant clicked his tongue—"Damn, I don't even know where to start. Being here has been life-changing. To be part of something so passionate, and cultured, and unified has brought me peace. To see parallels of your people and my family? That's been comforting. But to have people treat me as anything other than their 'fearless leader'? That's been a relief. I haven't been 'just Leonardo' for years. Long enough to forget what it's like for someone to take care of me for once. I have you to thank for that."
"N—no." Coyo's voice trembled, more so when the turtle-man brushed her shoulder with calloused fingertips. "Leo taught Coyo. Gave her courage. Friendship. Music. Helped K'ekchi win war. He is to thank."
"Guess we learned a little something from each other, huh? And now?"
Now it was time to part. Although Coyo could not bring herself to admit that out loud.
"I don't want to go," Leo continued. "I have to. My clan's in New York. That's where I belong
"Leo have clan in village, too."
The Chieftain stepped so close she could see the Cuaii's blue lights reflecting in Leonardo's eyes. She gripped his forearms with hands moist from the pool and her own sweat then hissed. The wrong pain paralyzed her, overwhelming her with alien desires: want to hold her, to caress her skin, kiss her lips, hear her laugh, see her smile, to hang on and watch her grow old. Were these Leonardo's desires? Were they the reason he distanced himself as if Coyo were a flame?
"I can't," he whispered, fists clenched. "I can't."
"Leo." Coyo drew a shuddering breath. "Leo, you can—"
"I'm sorry." The turtle-man stared with a cold expression that the woman had not seen in a long time. "When my father sent me here, he told me to find myself again. I did. Because of you. My whole family will know that."
"Please, Leo no go." Coyo reached for Leo's wrist, which he pulled away.
"We're leaders, Coyo," he said. "That is our role. Anything else is—"
"Leo, stay. With tribe. With Coyo!"
"I abandoned my clan once. I can't do it again."
"Please, Leo. Please." Coyo knew it was selfish and childish to plead, yet she could not imagine a future without Leonardo. Tears burned her cheeks, and she tried to hug the turtle-man, who avoided her.
"Don't say anything that will make this harder," he said hoarsely.
"Just say goodbye? So easy?"
"It's not easy. I know. But"—Leo's voice cracked—"it is goodbye."
No. No. No! Ometeotl, reverse time. Let Coyo relive those days at Huelihca, sing Leo's song one last time, share another meal. Give her more chances to admit her buried feelings or at least embrace him. Please, ease the pain. It swelled from her chest to her throat and left her speechless as Leonardo bowed at the waist.
"You're a strong leader," he said, emotionless. "Compassionate. Eager. Open-minded. Your people will flourish under you, and they'll be happy. And I'm honored to have met you. Totazkeh, Coyolxauhqui. Be well. Live. Be the kind of wife and mother you have always wanted."
He stood upright and smiled. Then, he left. Left like it was an average night, as if the woman behind would not miss him. How? Was his body not as heavy as hers? Could he breathe? Did he understand what goodbye meant or that no man in her village could outmatch him? Did he not know she wanted him, needed him? If he did, did he not care?
Coyolxauhqui gaped at the empty spot the turtle-man left in Ilnahio. It felt surreal like he was invisible or would return. But he did not. She was left alone in the Wet Season's storm—soaked, hot, and lost as she sunk to the muddy ground.