Legends of the Smoke Jaguars chapter 213
Copan XII, Three moons later
Solemn refrains echoed from the hollow peak, carrying far down its snowy flanks. From arched doorways the chants did ring, washing down the sharp ravines and treachery slopes. Narrow stairs had been carved into the surfaces, to allow mystic keepers of histories past and future to ascend to the snowy heights. The peak stood proud over the Smoke Jaguar's Fortress-Monastery, the highest summit in the mountain range, but it was within that the true majesty lay. This was the Sepulchre Triumphant, and here the greatest of hunts was memorialised.
Vitcos stood on a high balcony and gazed down into the interior. Within the mountain a chamber had been dug, circular in nature surrounded by arched gateways and thousands of tiny niches. It was somewhat similar to the Stair Abyssal, a mirror set in the sky, whereas the worthy dead sank into the earth. If that had been the intent then this place had long outgrown it. Too many hunts had been won, too many enemies slain for one chamber to house, and so subsidiary chambers had been dug, long corridors and plunging vaults, to house the skulls of enemies most terrible. It went without saying most of them were Orruk, the Smoke Jaguar's perennial foe, but there were also Devil-sons and Xenos and Heathens galore. The hollowing of the mountain had grown with the passing centuries and only seemed likely to continue.
Vitcos leaned over the balcony's edge as he watched the procession. Far, far below Serviles paraded, each carrying a lantern that guttered in the thin air, candles would not survive at this altitude and even the mortals struggled to breathe the depleted vapours. They marched in a great circle, creating a ring of light at the bottom of the primary chamber and in the middle of that ring was a squat, stone mausoleum. Ugly it was and bleak, without inscription or mosaic. No name adorned its lintel, it did not need any, any whom entered the Sepulchre Triumphant knew already who was interred within.
"The babe rests in swaddling robes,"Vitcos remarked in his native tongue.
"Soft as the mother's words,"Sechura agreed.
"The jaded hag, her womb barren, a needle in hand,"Ilquitio warned.
"Adder's poison drips from your tongue!"Sechura bemoaned as his Kinsmen's never-ending gloom.
"None so blind as he who will not see!"Ilquitio snapped.
Sechura abruptly switched languages, "As our new allies say: Frak you and the gunship you flew in on!"
That brought snorts of amusement from the rest of Blazing Shadow, lined up along the balcony to witness the ceremony. Ilquitio glared but at least he shut up, the Kinsmen all glad for it. The passing months had been hard on them all, as bleak reality settled on them. For a time they had fought alongside the Storm Heralds to pacify Praedium, cleaning Coronam and making sure no Orkoid spores remained to trouble future generations. But then they parted ways and began the long sojourn back to their homeworld. Without the press of battle Blazing Shadow had been left to grapple with the consequences, their losses, their victories and the dark truths revealed.
Vitcos had returned home to great esteem, the quiet respect of other Firsts given at last. True Huacho had claimed the Firstborn's portion as Prowlmaster but all the Prowls basked in shared glory. Vitcos' name was known to Umbral Flame, Unerring Eye, White Crow, Flaming Brand and They Who Thunder, among many others. And yet all was not well for Aapo the Eldest had been lost, a day of mourning indeed. Ilquitio had taken it hard, sorrow filling his soul. Gone was the merry jester of yesterday, now morose and glum at all times. Grief perhaps, or the haunting truth of their mixed bloodline. Even now he hung back, unable to tolerate bright light to his naked eye. Sechura oddly seemed most at peace, uncaring for whom claimed greater hold on their souls, Curze or Corax. Vitcos remained ambivalent, but he clung to Aapo's teaching that he must embrace both halves of his soul.
Sechura broke into his thoughts, "They bring forth our prize."
"It will rest within sight of Sedaxus' bones," Vitcos affirmed.
"And you vouched that rebuilding Orkamemnon's skull was a waste!"
"More sap-resin than skull," Ilquitio muttered.
"A prize is a prize, and few indeed are lauded enough to rest so close to the Giver of Laws."
The procession below finished circling the mausoleum and moved to a niche in the wall. A Servile had to climb a ladder to reach it, but the pieced-together bits of Orkamemon's skull were set within and then sealed behind an airtight crystal panel. Few enemies merited being placed so close to Sedaxus' final resting place, the more conventional foes being relocated to lesser chambers centuries ago. Sedaxus' spirit would see his descendant's most proud hunt-kills and rest easy in the knowledge that they remained worthy.
"I wonder how many have gazed upon his remains?" Vitcos mused.
"Only the most esteemed may look upon our Founder's armour," Sechura remarked.
"Esteemed or most knowing?" Vitcos pondered, "Does Sedaxus' armour still bear marks of his former allegiance? Did we change our history, or just bury it where none can see?"
"A question you should not be asking!" came a harsh rebuke.
Vitcos rolled his eyes as he turned to find Tachna approaching, the Terminator's bulk impressive as always. The Headsman had been in deep counsel with the Shade-Lord, explaining recent events and their implications. Vitcos had dreamed Tachna would miss this ceremony, but fate was not so kind. As always life seemed to have it in for him, he thought with a wry smile at the turn of phrase he'd picked up from a Storm Herald.
"You are amused?!" Tachna hissed.
"Many things amuse me," Vitcos deflected, "The sun dancing on water, the feeling of beetles wriggling between my teeth, your face when you are vexed."
"How the Sun-Emperor permits you to live while Aapo does not irk my mediations," Tachna growled.
"The sun sets on all men," Vitcos dismissed, "How fares Teotihuacan?"
Tachna's eyes narrowed, "He Who Must Be Obeyed is displeased with your knowing of our darkest secret. Not all the Shadow-chieftains know this and Blazing Shadow is not counted among that hallowed number. He commands that ensure your eternal silence is guaranteed."
Sechura snorted, "You think we would tell?"
Tachna retorted, "I trust not your circumspection. I will have your troth or..."
"Or you will kill us," Vitcos rejoined, "The Laws of Sedaxus forbid the shedding of Kin-blood."
"I am a Headsman; I am the law!"
Vitcos spoke in derision, "You think we fear you, that I fear you, but you are mistaken. We know your bonds and your cause, but it moves us not. We do not fear our origin, we embrace it. Aapo taught us that we are twinned in soul, and both must be held as equals in the scales of justice. The Raven of the day, the Haunter of the night, Aapo told us to walk the twilight path betwixt. As for you, you can put your axe away, we have no need to share this secret. No word of it shall pass our lips."
"Your troth is made?" Tachna pressed.
"If that suffices not we can drag a servile out and make a sacred-oath with their heart-blood."
"That is unnecessary," Tachna sighed, "Your word is your bond, even the Last among Firsts will not break his troth. For he knows the consequences if he does."
Vitcos brushed off the promise of execution, "So... is our alliance set in stone?"
Tachna drew in a breath to explain, "The Shade-lord hears Huacho's tale and marvels, even as he mourns the Eldest. The mystic keepers chart great future feats among the stars, their astrological readings are in favour. The Seers agree, all prophecies are in alignment. This union of spirits will be a fulcrum of destiny, many times will Smoke Jaguars and Storm Heralds stand shoulder to shoulder and triumph over fearful odds. Our alliance will be sworn in formal pact, though we argue over whether to travel to Lujan II, or have Chapter Master Lujan come to ours."
Ilquitio snorted, "The peacock names a planet after himself, his ego's gravity well would pull suns from their orbits."
"The devil's details are ever the downfall," Sechura smirked.
Tachna glared, "You have played your part in events greater than yourselves. Be glad of it, but remain humble. Your pride has seen you stray too often."
"You know I ever defy destiny," Vitcos rejoined, "Choice and chance are the levers of the galaxy."
"We shall see," Tachna growled, "I shall be ever near, my axe to your neck should you stray."
The Headsman left them then, stomping away as his bulk faded out of sight. Vitcos was glad to see the back of him, the Headsman had been ever his fiercest critic and recent events had not changed his manner. Vitcos would make a point not to join hunts where Tachna would be, as First he had that right, unfortunately Headsmen went where they willed. So he'd have to see the Gaze Catcher again, that was certain.
Sechura clapped his hands, "Thus Blazing Shadow returns to our den?"
"In a thrice-day," Vitcos demurred.
"Why the sloth?" Ilquitio demanded, "There are hunts awaiting!"
"Too long have we walked under strange stars, too long have we dwelt among Heathens. I long to stalk the dappled shades of Copan for a time, and remind myself who I am."
Sechura frowned, "You wish to make merry sport among the boughs of the jungle?"
"I seek solace in silence. We all need to commune with our true selves, and seek the path to answers. Troubled are we by what we have learned, to ground our spirits with a pure hunt will bring clarity."
Sechura grinned, "I know a hidden veil where the Arcuqine grow fat."
Ilquitio agreed, "A mighty predator will I seek, to prove my mettle. But what of you First?"
Vitcos replied only, "I doth seek that rarest of prey: inspiration."