Blood & Fur

Chapter One-Hundred: I'm Sorry

While I had grown unfortunately acquainted with the Sapa’s emperor over the past week, I knew very little about their empress.

I recalled briefly discussing the news of the wedding early in my reign and expressing some curiosity at a rather strange local tradition: namely, that since the Sapa’s imperial succession derived its legitimacy from proximity to the previous emperor, a new one usually adopted his future wife as a ‘sister’ before marrying her.

Eztli had joked back then that this had been Manco’s attempt at incest, but a mere glance at Nenetl drained the quip of its wit. The bitter irony wasn’t lost on me.

Whatever the case, lady Killa Huascar showed no familial resemblance with Manco. Ingrid had informed me that she was actually born a princess among the Sapa’s tributaries and then shipped to the capital to marry the emperor in order to strengthen his political position against his brother Cachi. She was thus a powerful political actor, both through her marriage and lineage; powerful enough for me to listen to her plea.

Since Lady Killa couldn’t speak Yohuachancan and required an interpreter, I received her in my council chamber in the company of my consorts, with my predecessors’ skull sitting at the table’s edge. I had also invited Mother to participate as an advisor for this session because of her familiarity with Sapa traditions.

If the empress felt any fear at her current predicament, she showed no hint of it. Her eyes studied me with the same poised calculation I’d seen in the likes of Zyanya and Manco.

This one is a politician through and through. I suspected she had come both to assess me and to make a deal that would guarantee her people’s own survival. I wonder if the Sapa treat their tributaries as poorly as Yohuachanca… and if Killa feels any resentment over her station.

Come to think of it, I’d heard the name elsewhere.

Ingrid translated my words to the empress, who seemed vaguely amused that I would know this information if the smile forming on her fair face was any indication.

“My lord’s guess is only half-correct,” Ingrid confirmed. “While Empress Killa was born under a full moon’s glow, which seers saw as a sign of the goddess’ favor and bore her name, her people call her Shi. Killa Huascar is the name she took upon marrying Emperor Manco and adopting the Sapa language.”

“So the Taycanamos worship different gods than their Sapa overlords,” Chikal mused out loud. “Interesting.”

“You know her people?” I inquired curiously.

“I have studied all of the Sapa’s tributaries in preparation for our invasion,” Chikal confirmed. “The Taycanamos are one of the most powerful and were subjugated around forty years ago. I’ve heard that while the Sapa put the sun above all, they consider the moon superior.”

“Quite correct,” Ingrid replied. “The marriage between Empress Killa and Ayar Manco was seen as the wedding between the sun and moon.”

“Shouldn’t we call her Shi then?” Eztli asked. “Since Killa is only a translation?”

Ingrid translated the question, with Empress Killa shaking her head. “While her heart belongs to her people, Lady Killa is now empress of the Sapa and would rather be treated as such,” Ingrid translated. “She has come to us in this capacity.”

“And she shall be treated with the respect her position implies,” I replied. “You said she came to us with a proposition?”

“Indeed,” Ingrid confirmed. Empress Killa whispered something in her ear. “First, however, she would like to learn what you are planning to do with her and her husband.”

Nenetl scowled. “She must think we will sacrifice them…”

Considering how the Nightlords usually treated their captives, I couldn’t blame Empress Killa for showing apprehension.

I pondered how to answer. The best option would be likely to remain evasive in order to pressure that woman and extract concessions. Fear could compel all but the bravest. That was what the old me would have done.

I, however, decided against it. I no longer was forced to be a bloodthirsty emperor coming to conquer the Sapa, enslave their population, and ship them off to the Nightlords’ altars. I was sick of violent intrigue and aspired to peace. I decided on a new approach: treating this woman with respect, and hope she would return the favor.

“Nothing yet,” I reassured her. “If you do not try to escape and cooperate with us, I shall see that you are both well-treated. No one will sacrifice anyone.”

Nonetheless, the wise trusted and then verified.

I activated my Gaze spell and let truth-revealing sunlight pour out of my eyes. Seeing the light shining through me startled Empress Killa and ought to confirm that I indeed had vast supernatural powers to call upon.

“Tell Empress Killa that I am no longer affiliated with the Nightlords,” I told Ingrid. “I have slain two of them and rebelled against the rest. I am only interested in their destruction.”

Empress Killa kept her gaze on me all while Ingrid translated my words. I had grown accustomed to detecting subtle body language and emotions in foreign diplomats, and this woman was no exception. If I wasn’t mistaken, I detected a glint of ambition laced with fear in her gaze; the look of a wise soul seeing an opportunity, but being cautious enough to test the waters first.

“Empress Killa lauds my lord’s accomplishments and bravery,” Ingrid translated. “She asks, however, why you have captured her and her husband if all you seek is to defeat the Nightlords. Would they not be common enemies for you to ally with them against?”

Chikal countered with another question. “Ask her why she should care, Ingrid. What is her husband to her?”

I studied Killa very carefully as Ingrid translated the question. I didn’t tell her that my Gaze let me detect lies, specifically to see if she would answer truthfully on her own or not. The empress marked a short pause and clearly pondered her words before speaking up again.

“She says he is her husband,” Ingrid replied, “And nothing else.”

I detected no lie in her voice, no wisp of smoke for my Gaze to catch. She didn’t love Manco nor cared about him beyond his station and duties. Their marriage was purely political.

“What are the Mallquis to you?” I questioned her.

Empress Killa noticeably tensed when she heard the word ‘Mallquis’ escape my mouth, and she paused a bit longer before providing an answer. “They are the ancestors and nobles of the people, worthy of respect for their wisdom and power,” Ingrid translated. “Her people honor fifteen of them spread across the valleys.”

“Even though they are not Sapa themselves?” Chikal inquired.

“No,” Mother replied instead. “The practice of raising elders to the status of Mallquis is older than the Sapa Empire and culturally endemic to the mountain people. Almost all communities in this region have at least one.”

This didn’t please me in the slightest. I’d hoped to form an alliance of Sapa tributaries against their undead overlords, but if they were culturally attached to them then they would likely resist my entreaties.

Empress Killa seemed to sense my unease and provided details to Ingrid. “The Mallquis of the Taycanamos do not own the land, unlike the Sapa’s,” Ingrid explained. “They existed to advise the council of the people and the Chanchan, their mortal leader.”

“They are not unlike us then,” the Parliament of Skulls said, their ghostly voices startling Empress Killa. “We have heard of the Taycanamos. They practiced trade over Mit’a and were the last organized group capable of checking the Sapa’s expansion to the south.”

I wasn’t sure what to make of this. I’d come to associate the Mallquis with the system of oppression the Sapa enforced on their tributaries. The idea that some of these entities might be unaffiliated with the empire’s oligarchy, or even opposed to it, was entirely new to me.

They were living people once, I thought. The Mallquis weren’t vampires fueled by a curse that compelled hunger and obedience to the Nightlords, but ancestor spirits prevented from passing on. I didn’t consider that they might have political factions.

I wasn’t opposed to the existence of the Mallquis in themselves, only in that of their oligarchy. I had given Mother a chance in the hope that she might change her ways after all; it would be hypocritical for me not to extend the same mercy to others.

I considered everything I’d heard and then confronted Empress Killa. “What proposal do you have in mind?”

Empress Killa met my gaze for a while and then whispered her answer to Ingrid. Though I detected no lie in her voice, I suspected she tailored her answer specifically to appeal to my own prejudices.

“Empress Killa says that an usurper has tried to take the Sapa throne and that chaos rules in the capital,” Ingrid translated. “The people are disunited, leaderless. She proposes that we use our military strength to restore order to the capital and restore Manco to the throne.”

It took all my willpower to contain my laughter. “And why would I do that?”

“She says that she can convince her husband to bend the knee if my lord proceeds with her plan,” Ingrid explained. “She offers you great riches and gold, and the Sapa Empire will pay tribute to you.”

“He will reign, but you will rule,” the Parliament of Skulls summarized the proposal. “This one will sell us her husband’s throne with Sapa gold and keep her own. We can see through her plots. She will use our strength to rid herself of her rivals in the capital, including Cachi, and put her own people in places of power.”

Chikal nodded sharply. “This is the same plan we discussed with our generals. It’s not a bad one either.”

“But it is built on misinformed assumptions,” I replied. “This woman still believes I am a conqueror seeking gold, conquest, and glory. Tell her I have no desire to rule her people, and that I have come as a liberator. I cannot abide a system in which men are not free to choose their own destiny, whether it comes from my nation or their own.”

Empress Killa squinted at me after Ingrid translated my words. Did she mistake me for a liar? Or was she simply disappointed that I had no interest in playing the game of empires?

“She argues that my lord would have an easier time reforming the Sapa Empire from the top,” Ingrid replied. “They are a dutiful people who follow their emperor’s word as law.”

“She’s not wrong,” Chikal said. “We could force Manco to reform his empire as an alternative to tearing it down.”

“I do not believe Manco would agree to this, even with his life on the line,” I countered. He struck me as a true believer in the Mit’a system and all that it represented. “Moreover, we lack time for reforms. Inkarri is plotting our demise as we speak and it won’t be long before the Nightlords move against us.”

Ingrid nodded and exchanged words with the empress on her own initiative. Whatever she said caused Empress Killa to adopt a thoughtful expression. She appeared to hesitate a moment before formulating her answer.

“In that case, Empress Killa would like to offer my lord another proposal,” Ingrid said. “First of all, she wishes for you to guarantee that her people will be left unmolested in your conflict with the Sapa. Second, she insists that we stop at the Sapa capital of Hananpacha. Even if we do not intend to rule the empire, she wishes us to either secure Ayar Cachi in her custody or, failing that, execute him.”

“Ayar Cachi?” I frowned. “Why? If the Sapa Mallquis are wise, they will have him executed for his rebellion.”

“She believes otherwise,” Ingrid explained. “She suspects that the Mallquis will prefer the emperor within their grasp than the one in the enemy’s hands and may proclaim him the rightful one. She wishes for her husband to remain their only choice.”

Her proposal put a scowl on my face. “Tell her I could return to her peoples’ freedom,” I said. “Tell her that I reward bravery. She does not need to play the game of Sapa politics.“

My words appeared to amuse the empress. “She thanks my lord for his candor,” Ingrid translated her answer, “But she insists that in these times when the dead rise from the grave and the sun denies them its radiance, the people of the mountains require stability and reassurance. They need unity, not division.”

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Eztli, however, proposed another translation. “She wants to be the power behind the throne, Iztac. She has more to gain as a conqueror’s wife than a conquered empress.”

“She… she isn’t wrong, though,” Nenetl said. As usual, my sister tried to see the best in our guest’s intentions. “A civil war is the last thing her people need right now… especially with the Nightlords at the door.”

I struggled to contain my annoyance. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for the Sapa tributaries to break away from the empire that kept them in bondage, and they would rather pass?

The skull at my side lit up with a familiar warmth and presence.

“You cannot force freedom upon those who do not wish for it, my son,” Father said wisely.

His words startled both Mother and Nenetl, especially the latter, who heard her father’s voice for the first time of her life.

As for me, they gave me pause. Father was right. I had learned that lesson very early in my reign when I tried to foster divisions within Yohuachanca and found myself hitting a wall of fanaticism. Many would rather take oppressive stability over the uncertainty of free will.

Moreover… in this case, she had a point. I needed to offer the mountain people more than the freedom of being killed by ravenous undead or each other. Grand ideals meant little when everyone struggled to survive.

Empress Killa’s proposal to at least stabilize the Sapa capital on our terms sounded like the most pragmatic course of action for now.

“And what does Empress Killa offer in exchange for this favor?” I asked.

“The Apu Inkarri,” Ingrid said. Now that caught my full attention, and that of my mother, who listened in silence. “She knows where he is and how to reach him.”

“Where is he?” I pushed, my Gaze burning with truth. If the empress dared to lead us into a trap, I would know.

“In a secret city called Paititi, located deep in the mountains,” Ingrid explained. “It is the holiest of places for the Sapa people. A sanctuary whose entrance is forbidden to most.”

“I’ve heard of it,” Mother confirmed the story, albeit with a frown on her face. “They call Paititi the City of the Sun because every building inside is said to be made of gold. I thought it was only a legend.”

“Golden city answers the tide of sorrow.” Lahun’s prophecy came to mind. That one comes after the Battle of the Three Wings though… Did my fight with Sugey count? Mother and my Mometzcopinques did participate…

Somehow I doubted that. I suspected a great battle awaited us on our way to this place.

“Why is this city sacred to the Sapa?” I asked Mother. All the information I’d gathered on Inkarri showed that he was planning a grand ritual of some kind. This Paititi had to enjoy special mystical conditions for him to retreat there.

Mother scowled. “According to Sapa legends, their first king is entombed there and will return to save them in a time of crisis.”

I pondered this information for a good minute. Both Mother and I had come to suspect that the First Emperor’s brother had founded the Sapa Empire, information which the Nightlords had all but accidentally confirmed on their own. If he was indeed the same king slumbering in the mountains, then it would explain some of the visions I’d received…

But that man was no god, I thought. Whereas his sibling fed on dead suns to ascend to the heights of divinity, his sibling had no other choice than to flee the land that would eventually be called Yohuachanca. The Nightlords believed as much. Even if that man could return to life, he should lack the power to defend this country against the Nightlords.

Then again, belief could turn into power in our world. Inkarri had survived since the early days of the Sapa Empire, so their first ruler might have endured as a Mallquis or a similar entity, growing fat and strong on his descendants’ worship.

Whatever the case, if Inkarri believed in this ritual enough to focus his attention on it even while his homeland was on the brink of collapse, then it should have real consequences for us. We had to either interrupt it or hijack it for our own purposes.

“Where is that city located and what is Inkarri doing there?” I asked Empress Killa. Perhaps she could tell us more.

A wisp of untruth escaped Empress Killa’s mouth when she answered. “She says that the Apu’s goals are a mystery to her,” Ingrid translated. “She can tell us the city’s rough location, though she cannot provide a clear map.”

“Lies,” I said, my Gaze brighter than the stars. “Tell her I will forgive it this time, but another attempt at deceit will cost her the deal.”

Empress Killa winced at my obvious annoyance, and spoke up before Ingrid could translate my words. Clearly she had guessed her misstep.

“The empress deeply apologizes if she might have seemed insincere,” Ingrid said. The wording made me and Eztli scoff. “She insists that neither she nor her husband know the Apu’s plans, and that she has never been to Paititi.”

I detected no lie in her words. “Then she does know its exact location.”

“She and her husband were taught the path to reach it in case they had to take refuge should the capital fall,” Ingrid confirmed. “However, she says that powerful sorcery shields this place from intruders and that she has no idea how to bypass it.”

Eztli sneered at our guest. “So she was trying to send us to our doom by letting us fumble in the dark?”

“I do not think so,” Ingrid replied. “She feels… uneasy about reaching the city.”

“She fears being caught in the crossfire should its magical defenses target us,” I guessed before turning to Mother. “Do you know how to disable them?”

“Not unless I know what those defenses are,” Mother replied uneasily. “We should interrogate Manco.”

“Agreed,” I said with a nod of agreement. I’d reached a decision. “Ingrid, tell our guest she has my sworn oath that I shall not harm either her husband nor her so long as they cooperate with us. I shall not take arms against her people nor foster further chaos, and I will help her secure her place as an empress of a peaceful land.” One way or another. “In return, she will have to guide us to this Paititi city and follow our commands once we reach the capital.”

And if she used the opportunity to lay an ambush for us, she would pay the price with her head.

And so my army marched south.

After we hammered out an agreement with Empress Killa, she agreed to guide us to the mountains holding the city of Paititi. I also took the liberty of cursing her just in case. A dire tragedy would befall her should she try to ensnare us. Chikal had also sent scouts ahead and hoped to put her hands on either maps or local guides so we didn’t entirely rely on the woman for directions. Empress Killa said that the path to Paititi would take us to the Sapa capital anyway, so we would stop at the latter on our way to the former.

Interrogating Manco about Paititi’s secrets unfortunately yielded little results, even with the Word to force him into truthfulness. While he did know the way to the city—and most importantly, confirmed that his wife had learned it as well—he had no idea about its protections, having only visited it once for his coronation and enjoying the Mallquis’ protection during that trip. It astonished me that a so-called emperor would know so little about his own realm.

I did learn three very interesting pieces of information however: one, the holy city was indeed entirely made of gold; second, every Sapa Emperor was required to make the journey there and offer a human sacrifice—a golden maiden like Aclla—on the grand pyramid as part of the coronation ceremony; and three, no living being dwelled there. Only the royal family, the Mallquis, and the holiest of priests were allowed to set foot inside.

No wonder Manco cared so little for Aclla’s death. He had been asked to sacrifice another to even climb onto his bloodsoaked throne.

Beyond the disgust this practice inspired, I couldn’t fail to see the similarities with the Scarlet Moon’s rites. A new emperor’s coronation in both countries required a murder perpetrated in the presence of its undead aristocracy. The two religious rituals echoed each other too; while the Sapa sacrificed virgin women, the Nightlords murdered male emperors; the sacrifice took place atop a pyramid, one under moonlight, the other under daylight; and both were meant to renew the line of kingship that stretched all the way back to the first emperors of both countries.

I now had the strong suspicion that the Nightlords weren’t the only ones maintaining a long-standing ritual.

The sun to my moon… The murals in Xibalba likened the First Emperor and his sibling to these two celestial bodies. One of these rites imprisons a god, so what should its reflection do? Empower one? Would it turn the legend of the first Sapa Emperor returning in his homeland’s darkest hour into reality?

With few other leads, my next option was to use the Augury spell. I asked Mother and Nenetl to assist me in this task; partly because I wanted to teach my sister magic, and partly because some family time was long overdue.

Meanwhile, Ingrid had taken upon herself to ‘entertain’ our Sapa guests during our time together as part of our diplomatic efforts. Knowing her, she likely hoped to gain a better understanding of the empire’s political situations and find flaws to exploit. She even voiced the idea of assisting the empress in sending letters and messages to imperial generals and her people alike, mostly as a means to gather more clear information on how the Yohuachancan invasion was going.

Eztli helped scout out the mountains ahead in the form of a bird alongside Necahual. While the two officially said they wished to gain some practice with their inhuman forms, part of me knew that they wished to spend some time together. It had been many months since they could do so without a vampire breathing down their necks.

Moments of happiness were always the most precious in their brevity.

I wished I could say the same for my own familytime, I thought as I looked around the table. Nenetl and Mother sat on each of my sides, and I’d managed to craft a rudimentary body for Father through Bonecraft to join us. I could almost cut the tension and awkwardness in the air with a knife.

The window was open to let the wind in, but for once it found nothing to say.

“Sometimes, silence is more painful than any word,” the breeze taunted me almost immediately. From the way Mother scowled, she found the Yaotzin’s sense of humor less than entertaining.

“I… I think I heard something,” Nenetl said. Her blood dripped from her thumb into a common bowl. My own fluids burned there next to Mother’s.

“The Yaotzin spoke to us again,” I confirmed. “Could you understand its words?”

“No,” Nenetl bit her lower lip in embarrassment. “Am I doing something wrong?”

“Pure hearts have no need for our counsel,” the wind replied. “Another watches over that one.”

“Another?” I whispered back, before realizing I could speak normally. I’d spent so many times using the spell in secret while fearing the Nightlords’ gaze that muttering under my breath had become a force of habit. “Whom?”

“The morning star which shines upon one of thy paths, scion of light and shadow.”

“It probably means Quetzalcoatl,” Mother said. Ever the opportunist, she immediately saw it through the lenses of our underworld quest. “This could be useful.”

I let out a sigh of annoyance. We had organized this session to help teach Nenetl the Augury spell as part of her sorcery training. Learning that she couldn’t call upon the Yaotzin in any way limited her spellcasting options.

“I’m sorry…” Nenetl apologized. “If I did something wrong–”

“You did well, Nenetl,” Father spoke. His cavernous voice startled Nenetl, much to his dismay. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean–”

“No, I’m the one who’s sorry!” Nenetl chuckled in embarrassment. “We, uh… we’re both too polite.”

“Yes, that we are,” Father said. He opened his mouth to say something, but clearly struggled to find his words. Mother didn’t dare speak up either.

This is almost painful to watch. I could hear the wind laughing in the distance. The Yaotzin fed on curses and damaging secrets, but it sounded petty enough to find amusement in this scene. Then again,I am barely any better.

Nenetl cleared her throat. “So you are… you are my…” She gulped, her face scarlet with a hint of shame. “Our father?”

“Yes, Nenetl,” Father replied kindly. “I have risen from the depths of the Underworld to meet you. Had I arms of flesh, I would be hugging you as we speak.”

“That’s… that’s nice…” Nenetl avoided his gaze. “Then… then you know about…”

“Yes, I know about the child.” Father gently grabbed Nenetl’s hand and squeezed it tightly. The sudden contact of his bones against her flesh briefly unsettled my sister, but it wasn’t long before she squeezed back. “I do not condemn you for what happened, and neither does your mother. Know that I am here for you.”

“That…” Nenetl exhaled, though I sensed no relief in her voice. “That’s good.”

“No words can wash away her shame,” the wind taunted us. Mother winced at these words, yet didn’t dare to speak up.

“Can you tell us anything useful about Paititi, or are you just here to gloat?” I snapped back at the wind.

“There is no wind that blows in a mountain’s heart.”

I grunted and cast the Doll to close the window. Either the Yaotzin’s reach didn’t extend to Paititi or Inkarri had found ways to protect its secrets from it. Whatever the case, this session had been a waste of our valuable time.

Once again, Nenetl thought she was to blame. “I’m sorry, Iztac. I’m not good at sorcery.”

“Far from it,” Mother replied. “You already have better control over your animal transformation than I did at your age.”

Nenetl’s aptitude with her wolf transformation especially stood out in that she lacked any divine embers. All totems expressed themselves differently, but the mere fact that she could at least sense the Yaotzin when it didn’t wish to speak to her showed that my sister had strong sorcerous potential.

“Perhaps we should focus on more physical-oriented spells like the Doll,” I suggested. “Or kinder winds like the one fueling the Cloak spell.”

“I thought the same,” Mother replied. “The wolf is a warrior totem, powerful and willful, more in tune with the moon than the wind. Her strengths differ from ours and should be nurtured differently.”

My sister’s scowl turned into a sly smile, much to my confusion. “What is it, Nenetl?”

“No, it’s just…” Nenetl let out a small chuckle. “You and Mother are so very much alike. You’re both so studious and ambitious.”

Both Mother and I froze in our seats in near-perfect synchronicity; which, as much as I wanted to deny Nenetl’s remark, probably served to illustrate her point. I even detected a glint of amusement in Father’s eyes.

I’d inherited more than magic from Mother. I couldn’t deny it, not after all the crimes I’d committed. While her cowardice shamed me, we shared the same ambition, inquisitive spirit, and hunger for knowledge. We’d both shed much blood in the name of our ideals and convenience. I liked to think that Father’s kindness inspired a bravery in me which Mother lacked, but in the end she too fought for her kin in my darkest hour.

“I’m just glad to see you all here today,” Nenetl said. As usual, she wore her heart on her sleeve. “I know this is still… very awkward for everyone… but it’s…” She smiled warmly. “This is good. This is nice.”

“You should teach me this tumi game I keep hearing about, Nenetl,” Father added with kind enthusiasm. “I admit I am no good when it comes to magic, but being dead gave me plenty of time to practice board games.”

“There is no time for games, Itzili,” Mother argued. “Our… our daughter–” Merely saying the word seemed to unsettle her, as if her very spirit still struggled to accept that she was back in her life. “–needs to learn how to defend herself.”

“And she will, but family time serves its purpose too,” Father argued calmly. “There are other sources of power than magic, Ichtaca. You should know that by now.”

Mother scowled and looked about to argue further, but Father’s words did give her pause. Did she finally realize it too? That all of my magic wouldn’t have been enough to defeat Sugey and save her without all the allies we gathered? This was the power which Lord Quetzalcoatl valued above any other spell.

“It’s been a long time since I have played tumi either,” I mused. “I recall that you can play the game with more than two players?”

“You can have up to seven,” Nenetl confirmed with a nod. “We could invite the others for a game another time.”

“I wouldn’t mind, but I would prefer to stick with the four of us for now,” I replied. I suspected having the likes of Mother and Necahual at the same table would be a recipe for resentment and disaster. “What do you say, Mother?”

Mother’s scowl deepened further. She met my gaze and then Nenetl, her shoulders crumpling down like ancient hills. A short silence followed, broken by three words hardly more audible than a whisper.

“I am sorry,” she said.

How strange. Mother spoke those words so quietly, and yet I heard them more clearly than the boom of thunder; perhaps I’d always waited to hear them, but never expected to.

“I am sorry for leaving…” Mother caught herself, though it clearly pained her to do so. “For abandoning you. All of you.”

Nenetl looked forlorn. “Mother, that wasn’t your fault–”

“No, Nenetl, it was. I… I could have fought more.” Mother looked away in genuine shame. “Watching young Astrid with her sister, and Necahual with her daughter… Both made my stomach ache with envy. I thought that once I’d accumulated enough power I could get all of you back… but there is no spell that can turn back time. I see that now.”

“It is not too late, my love,” Father comforted her, his boney hand squeezing her own. “You can still be part of their lives.”

“Yes, of course,” Nenetl replied with a warm smile. “I… I would like that very much.“

“I told you to stay back then,” I reminded Mother. In spite of everything she did, I still wanted her in my life. “It is not too late, for either of us.”

I had to believe that, for all of our sakes.

“I…” Mother gulped, the confident sorceress she portrayed herself as nowhere to be seen. Her tongue clicked in her mouth until she found the courage to smile back with all the uneasiness of someone who had no idea how to proceed. “I… I would like to play a game too, yes.”

This was a good start.