The Eagle on The Cactus

1168, from the perspective of Zolin

It is such a beautiful day, the perfect day for a marriage celebration. It seems to be that the entire village is buzzing with excitement, and for a reason. Today they will celebrate the marriage of our leader's daughter. At least that is what they think... I Zolin, am among the four that are to escort this precious girl to the temple for the ceremony. She is a nice young woman. The ideal candidate for pleasing the Gods. A slow feeling of excited nervousness creeps into my stomach, along with the sharp and intoxicating feeling of adrenaline caused by the upcoming sacrifice. That I am taking part in the appeasing of our Gods with the death of a human.

As we walk down the bright, sun drenched path the temple comes into view and so does the sacrificial altar awaiting us in the shadows. It is finally time. We are almost at the mouth of the temple and the girl is tense with the happiness at serving her people, but she does not know that she will not only serve her people, but her Gods as well. By serving these gods with her blood and death, she will keep our village healthy, without disease or famine. Causing us to not only grow in size, but in numbers as well.

Only five more steps. The tension is building up inside of me.

Four, there are butterflies in my stomach.

Three, the palms of my hands are getting sweaty.

Two, I lock eyes with the men across from me.

One, the time has come.

Just ten paces away from the temple we veer to the side moving to the altar. I see first confusion, then realization and fear dawn on the girl's face as she sees the great slab of stone. A high pitched noise, loud and piercing splits the air. She is screaming at the top of her lungs. It is annoying to know that she values herself over her people. We reach the altar, the girl thrashing about, kicking and screaming for help that will not come. It is hard to get her on the altar since she is strong enough to make it a chore, but not impossible. Once we have her laying down we grab an arm or a leg each, luckily there are four of us. It is at this time that the chosen person will perform the rituals. He raises her still beating heart into the air above his head scattering bright drops of blood across the dirt. The man starts to chant the ceremonial words used for giving this girl to the Gods, and we all join in, knowing all the words by heart due to past sacrifices performed when we were younger.

We complete the ceremony by dancing around a fire. The ritual ends at about the same time the leader will arrive to witness the joining of his daughter and the chosen male, hand-picked himself. I look down the path and see him walking towards the temple a smile on his face, not knowing what the fate of his little girl had been just moments before. I watch all of the happiness fade from his eyes as he comprehends what happened to his prized and precious daughter. His face turns red and his dark eyes are a close representation of the fire we sit around. The almighty leader shouts for his warriors to come and help him, but instead of ordering to kill us like what would normally happen he orders them only to chase us out. Until we are caught, we are alive.

The light of day is quickly fading as we run through the dark trees now cloaked in shadows, casting darkness over us. Vines are whipping and wrapping around both my arms and legs, threatening to trip me and condemn me to death. A spear whizzes past my head and sinks deep into the tree I just passed by. Apparently the leader changed the orders and now wants us dead. They are catching me, I can hear their heavy footsteps not far behind. I see a clearance in the trees up ahead, through it I can see the river, it glitters in the blood red sunset, to another it might seem beautiful and I suppose it should but to me it carries with it the memory of her blood seeping through the dirt and dust.

I break through the brush at the edge of the river where a boat is waiting, our backup plan meant for this outcome, the likes of which were always considered possible. We pile up into the boat and push off hard from the land, the boat glides to the center of the water and follows the flow. We are well on our way when a deep dark voice sounds in my head, it says in a gruff tone, " I am the voice of Huitzilopochtli, worship my orders and you will find the place where your people will thrive and where you will build a great city. I command you to move towards the south for as long as it takes to find the eagle on the cactus, when you die your spirits will not rest but continue on this journey until you find your destined home.". This message we soon found out was sent through everyone's minds and was not heard through the air, we decided that the best plan would be to follow these orders and find the place that the Gods have chosen for us, our children, and our children's children for many years to come.

1325,

For a span of 157 years we have been traveling, after the first twenty I died, and like we were told my soul has not rested, my soul still travels. We have arrived in a place the native peoples call the Valley of Mexico, Maybe it is here that we will find our one true home, the only problem not one unoccupied piece of land in sight, and no eagle perching on a cactus. With looks of dismay on their faces the group starts to move on again until they come to a lake, surrounded by mountains swampy land, then they see it... Right in the middle of this big lake is a single cactus, and sitting on that cactus is their sign of hope, their eagle. This is it, this is our home. In a way I am happy that I was not able to advance to the afterlife, I am grateful that I was able to see our destined home. The time has come for me to finally rest, as a loud cheer goes up into the air I can feel myself slipping from existence bit by bit. I don't want to leave I want to watch the birth of a new nation, will I be allowed by the great ones who have given me the chance to even see this place, to travel the world with my descendants, I raise my voice in a ghostly shout, my voice is raspy from no use for a long time and I can only manage a single word, "Please!". Instead of a shout, it comes out a whisper. Immediately I hear an answer in the same voice that spoke to me long ago, "You shall not stay here. You feel as though your people cannot do this without you, but you have to believe in them, for they will be greater than you or anyone you knew has been. Rest now and be free!" Everything is starting to fade from my sight and I feel a deep and peaceful nothingness creep into the space inside me. Just before...