My Life, and my Bloodline

My wolf skin

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In a different hidden cave “El Cerro San Rafael” at Zacatecas was another group of people in hiding. Among this group was a very sick and wounded Don Axayacatl Francisco Sanchez. His loyal mozos were keeping watch over him and nursing him back to health. He also hung between life and death. He had been shot in the chest, and shrapnel had cut him deeply on his arms and chest. His body appeared mangled, he had a lot of internal injuries. Along with Don Francisco’s’ mozos some rebel revolutionaries had joined them in hiding. These revolutionaries were loyal followers of Pancho Villa. The loyal revolutionaries had rescued the fleeing Don Francisco from his assassins..

The group had received word that Pancho Villa and his followers were heading to Zacatecas, the rebels were on the run, being pursued by the Mexican army.

Back at la Sierra del Tigre, Nachita had been keeping watch over the injured girl around the clock, she had organized the elders in shifts so that they were always a group of elders chanting for her. The girl was not to be left alone for a single moment.

Nachita was very good about keeping up the girls strength, she was constantly feeding her aguamiel, and broths, for she could not have any solid foods. Nachita also smoked peyote every night to transport herself to the presence with her “blood, and the blood of the ones that had gone before her; the bloodline from her past”.

Nachita knew how to open a portal between the now, and the past, the dead and the living. She invoked her ancestors every night. She would chant: blood of my blood, blood of my bloodline, wake up come to me now, your blood needs you”. And start naming her ancestors one at a time. Slowly the small cave would be filled by shadows. One by one her ancestors and wolves would appear in the cave surrounding Nachita and the young girl. A strong wind would blow through out the cave, and a low wolf howl would startup, and than many more soulful wolf cries follow.  The ancestors would than place their hands over the girl and force life and strength back into her. They would also feed into her mind memories of their past, memories of their beginnings, their lives, their battles and victories, but more importantly the memories of their secrets. The secret of their wolves, for they were people of the wolf, shapeshifters, Nahual.  The ancestors had to pass on all of their knowledge to the injured girl. Gently they were guiding her back from the dark world of “Kiskin” to the world of the living. The injured girl was still in a coma, seemingly unaware of what was happening around her, unaware of her upcoming tribulations and battles she would be having with Kiskin, unaware that her ancestors would be her guardians and protectors, and that they loaned her their strength and wisdom as her protectors.

But on that specific night, something different happened. As Nachita was in her trance surrounded by her ancestors a frightful giant materialized in front of her.

A fearsome dark stranger with a black obsidian smoking mirror hanging around his neck. The very presence of the stranger filled the cave with his power.

He walked directly up to Nachita and said

“Daughter the time has come, she has awaken”

Immediately in walked a beautiful large silver wolf with human eyes, not the eyes of a wolf, she wildly looked around at all in the cave, alive and in spirit. She let out a long howl, which was followed up with howls of the other wolves in the cave.

Nachita recognized this great warrior before her,

“Mi Seňor Tezcatlipoca I knew you would come, I knew you would save us, why did you forsake us”