La Muerte's eyes fluttered open slowly, her headache throbbing as she tried to focus in on her surroundings above her. Her mind was heavy, as if she had been sleeping for millennia.
The ceiling above her was dark stone, delicately carved. As she pushed herself up to a seat, she could feel the plushness of an unfamiliar – albeit luxurious – mattress beneath her.
Where am I?
The last thing she could recall was her father, the arena…el Corte.
Xibalba.
A tightness gripped her chest as she realized that this was the farthest she had ever been from home. She was a prisoner, an object…
A betrothed.
She slowly turned to examine the room she inhabited. Incredibly delicate furniture surrounded her, chaises of the finest velvet, hard carved dressers, and a bookshelf with presumably priceless books.
She looked down at herself and took note that she was wearing her usual attire. A wave of relief came over her, and a breath she forgot she was holding escaped her lungs.
She was unsure whether to move from her current position. Was she being watched? Was she locked in here? Were they impatiently expecting her to wake up at any moment?
They? Or just her new betrothed?
She had no idea what sort of court Xibalba held for himself in the Land of the Forgotten, but she was terrified to find out either way. Nonetheless, she knew staying in this bed wasn't an option.
She mustered the strength to rock her legs off the bed and pressed her feet against the cold granite floor beneath her. Her headache was slowly subsiding, and so she rose and carefully stepped towards the door. Her glorious red sombrero floated from a beautiful Gothic dresser back onto her head, as she floated gently towards the entryway.
Before she could press even a finger against the doorknob, a large crrreeeeeaaaakkkkk could be heard as it was being opened from the outside.
La Muerte recoiled her hand,
"Señorita, we've been expecting you! Come, you must be starving."
La Muerte couldn't help but be taken aback by the manners, and kindly curtsied to the little goblin like creature who had just opened her door. The goblin was dressed smartly and showed genuine care on his face.
What an interesting introduction to this realm.
"Why thank you so much, sir. What may I have the pleasure of calling you?"
A blush flashed across the goblins face in an instant, before he replied,
"Oh señorita, my name is Adolfo. At your service."
"Well Adolfo, please lead the way."
She gingerly stepped behind Adolfo, following him through a dimly lit corridor. The floating candles surrounding her glowed with Xibalba's green hue, and she found it so cold compared to the vibrance with which she grew up in the Land of the Remembered.
Eventually, Adolfo turned to a grand staircase, at the bottom of which La Muerte could see a grand feast of all the delicacies she could have imagined. She was starving – and had no idea how long she had been asleep. She almost floated down before she realized,
"Ay, Adolfo. Are there no other guests for such a tremendous meal?"
Their gazes met with a flash of understanding –
Where is Lord Xibalba?
"Señorita, Lord Xibalba asked me to apologize in advance should he not be here when you awaken; he must be busy with matters of his court."
La Muerte let out a gasp of relief she didn't realize she had in her; she had more time to grow accustomed to her surroundings before having to come face to face with her…
Betrothed? Warden? Enemy?
The confusion was quickly drowned out by the growls emanating from La Muerte's stomach, and she soon found herself in a chair, gorging herself on the lavish feast.
After satisfying her initial hunger with a few bites, she turned and asked,
"Adolfo, why don't you join –"
She turned and realized the little goblin had vanished. She was completely alone.
She stared at the staircase where Adolfo once stood, slightly confused that he would leave so quietly and without saying goodbye.
But alas, this isn't my realm anymore.
She quietly turned back around and kept enjoying her meal, more slowly this time. A wave of unease was rising inside her, building and building until she turned around again.
Nothing.
Ay I must be paranoid. He's too busy for me - clearly.
As she continued her meal, trying to find comfort in her own thoughts, she never did wash off that eerie feeling that she was being watched.
Crrreeeeeaaaakkkkk.
He caught his breath as the pages of his book caught in his fingers, nearly tearing the paper.
She's awake.