Revolutions

144 - Paxilche

When you grow up in Qiapu, you hear all the legends. They're like the air you breathe—how the land was sculpted from stone and fire, how the stars were forged and hung in the sky like jewels, how the gods wrestled with the sun to give us light. It was something to explain why the land trembled from time to time. Why Xutuina should be feared. They tell you about the wars, the sacrifices, the monsters locked away in the deepest parts of the world. They're meant to awe you when you're a child. To give you a sense of where you come from. To root you to our traditions.

I remember the way my father told the tale. Limaqumtlia and I would stare at him, captivated by his every word. His voice rose with excitement as his hands painted the story of Aqxilapu battling Ninaxu like it was something more than a fireside story. "The giant, formed by lava flows, claws digging into the ground," he'd said, his eyes gleaming with the joy of storytelling, with the pride of our people and our history. "Aqxilapu beat it down with a flurry of blows, fought it until his own hands burned from the heat."

To him, it was a tale of strength, of the gods' power over the forces of chaos. A reminder that no matter how fierce the world became, someone would always rise to meet the challenge. It was comforting then, in the way all legends are—distant, untouchable.

But nothing prepares you for seeing one of those monsters in the flesh.

I feel the ground buckling beneath me, the deep rumble vibrating in my bones. Ninaxu's roar is a sound so primal, it feels like it's cracking the sky open. The heat is unbearable, like we're already inside the mouth of the volcano.

I can feel the storm inside me, the winds building, the lightning crackling in my veins. I could unleash it all right now—strike at Ninaxu, at the fire priest. But I know what'll happen if I lose control. I've done it before.

But gods, I want to.

It's as if the whole mountain has come to life, awakened by the fire priest's cursed ritual. The massive Ninaxu towers over us. Its molten body shifts and seethes as lava drips from its claws like blood. The beast's glowing eyes lock onto us, burning hotter than anything I've ever seen. It lashes out, fire trailing in its wake.

"Scatter!" I yell, but my voice is already drowned by the roar of the terrain splitting apart, by the rumble of lava beginning to pour from the mountain. My body moves before my mind catches up. Wind surges around me as I push off, sprinting to avoid the molten claws that swipe down like thunder.

The others scramble. All I can see is Ninaxu's massive clawed hand, the size of a house, crashing down. The ground explodes in a spray of molten rock, and I throw up my hands on instinct. The wind answers my call, and a gust howls past me, somehow deflecting the molten spray just before it hits. Teqosa barely dodges a wave of fire as it rolls toward him. Walumaq is holding her ground, the turquoise amulet glowing at her chest. But even with her powers, I can see it's a losing battle. We're too small, too fragile against this.

The ground pulses beneath us, sending tremors through my legs. Ninaxu stirs within the molten flow, claws of cooling rock dragging against the stone slopes. Its colossal frame shifts upward, blackened and cracked with glowing fissures, gaining size and strength with every passing moment. Smoke billows from its mouth, as the stench of sulfur and charred stone fills the air. The fire priest stands just beyond it, arms outstretched, drawing power from the molten flow as if summoning the mountain itself into the beast.

Teqosa moves first. He sprints through the smoldering rubble, dodging the columns of ash that sprout like weeds around him. He cuts down one of the molten specters with a clean swing of his blade. The specter falls apart in a burst of embers. But just as fast, another one takes its place, bursting from the ground.