As I started checking my equipment for the day ahead, the sun rising into the sky, that was when I heard the shouting, and the calls for alarm. This put me on high alert right away, even if I was only halfway ready. I grabbed my gun, though without the time to go for anything resembling a sidearm, and pushed myself free of the ramshackle tent that had been my home for about a week now. Weapon leveled toward the sound, but with enough trigger discipline I would avoid firing until I knew I needed to. I knew the colors that would indicate we were under attack. And I would recognize the sounds of battle.
Yet I neither saw nor heard those things, instead, I saw a small group, seven to ten of our fighters, surrounding someone who I couldn’t quite make out. More were on their way, and seeing as no one was shooting, I lowered the rifle, and started muscling my way through the small crowd. What I saw was slightly disturbing.
A young woman, on the shorter side, with black hair and amber eyes. However, that wasn’t the odd part about her, or why she had a small crowd surrounding her.
Patterned yellow fur grew up her arms and legs, said limbs more narrow and angular then they had been before. She had shed any footwear she had, for clawed feet and hands. Her mouth seemed to be full of fangs and other sharper then normal teeth, and spots of fur on her face seemed to be receding. In fact, all of her animalistic features seemed to be receding, into a woman I and a few others recognized.
Bianca stumbled forward, her entire front covered in enough blood that her skin and clothing color was gone in favor of matted crimson. Her hair and face had it too. She looked exhausted, like she hadn’t slept for days. Under her arm was a patterned clay urn…turned on it’s side, and seemingly spilling more of that crimson substance onto the ground. In her other hand, dangling between her fingers was a necklace, golden marked squares within. One of them laid blank.
I recognized the squares. And realized what had happened. The small collection, recognizing Bianca, began to clap a little bit, and let out muted cheers, for the returning comrade. I let out a sigh relief. One less friend stuck in that hell hole. I’d wake up Otto in a little bit, but for now, he needed his rest. Besides, best he not reunite with his sister while she was covered in blood. Ironically, I really hoped it wasn’t hers.
People had brought her water, by now, and she was thankfully starting to drink it. She looked a little dazed, but otherwise alright. Around now, I moved to approach.
“Bianca. It’s…good to see you again.” I spoke to her in one of the languages we shared besides Spanish, Chʼorti. We’d both come from the same village, once upon a time.
She gave me a muted looking nod. Searching for words before responding. I didn’t blame her, given her current state.
“…It’s good to be back. Even if I’m not sure how I am.”
Once again, the logic of it all didn’t make sense. Bianca, according to Otto, her brother, had been back in Tikal, with him. Which was far from a journey one made quickly, especially not on foot. But Otto had returned in two days, and by the looks of things, Bianca had made it in one night. And this wasn’t the first time this had happened in our favor either, in the past year or two. At least not according to rumors I heard around the camps.
That wasn’t my concern, though. I was far more concerned with ensuring my friend was alright.
“Not worried about that right now. Are you hurt?” I tried to scan her for injuries, but the sheer amount of blood made that quite simply, impossible, at least to my untrained eye. Though to my surprise, she shook her head.
“No. I’m not hurt. It’s just from that urn.” She nodded her head towards it. “Other then that…I’m just tired. I’ve been running for…almost a day now, I think.”
I frowned, as I looked over to the urn, which had been placed off to the side. Despite the fact I had seen it spilling, it still seemed to be full. I was tempted to poke it, or something similar, but I quashed that urge. My gaze also drifted the necklace, cord still clenched ironclad in her other hand, it’s contents dangling from her fingers.
“Is that what I think it is? Why you-”
Another nod.
“Otto told you? How all this…” She gestured to herself. She looked somber about it, with a hint of trepidation to it.
“I know the gist. You can shift. The more you do, the stronger it is, but the less control. And the more it’s used, the stronger the physical transformation. At least that’s what he’s…found. And I trust him on it, unless you think differently…”
She shook her head.
“No. That’s about right. I was in that…hybrid sort of state, my entire way here. Might be how we both got here so fast. I was stronger. Faster. I could see better…I brought the rest back, because I think we should use them. As many as we can. I think this might be what we need.”
I gave it a think.
“We’ll bring it up to Julian. Why’d you bring the jar?” I asked, looking over the urn again. It was almost unsettling to look at.
“Soto wanted it. So I made sure he couldn’t have it. I tried to break it, didn’t work. They…had a few things like it, in the place they found. These two were all I could grab. And…”
She took a long pause. I gave her a quizzical, almost confused look. I recognized Ramiro Soto, one of the government’s top goons. He’d used some of our own, including Bianca and Otto, as effectively slaves. He’d have some terrible word for it instead. Though her use of past tense brought me some hope.
“…I…I’ll…”
At this point, I sat down. A few people had come over with limited cleaning supplies. Mostly just wet rags. She started using some to clean off her face. I could make out her expression a little better. Pensive. I put a hand on her shoulder, but she subtly moved so that it fell flat.
“…We used to talk about how we wished for a flying woman to come save people like us, right?”
We had. Once upon a time. You didn’t grow up when we did and not here about her. The woman from the heavens, who protected us from things we couldn’t. She had even come to Guatemala, when were younger. Mostly just for putting out fires, helping with disasters. Never to help with anything that mattered.
She was the hero. The savior. A joke. But sometimes we wished there was someone who would come from the sky, and save us too. But why bring it up now? Sure, me, Gloria, Otto, Bianca, we’d all talked about it. But generally it was wishful thinking.
“Yes. We did, why?”
“I think there might be someone like that. And I think he’s on his way.”
Around now, our medic finally showed up. I wanted to grill Bianca more, but when I was practically shoved out of the way, I got the hint. Standing up, I gave her a look of…sympathy. Before I headed back off to tend to what I needed to. I dismissed what she had said for the most part, she was just tired. After all,
I stopped dreaming a long time ago.
I went about my day with a somewhat heavy feeling in me. Like I was carrying a weight I couldn’t see. I mostly ignored it. I was just concerned about Bianca. And…Gloria. And…a lot more people, really.
Thankfully, none of my tasks for the day were particularly taxing. Doing maintenance, checking a few hunting traps, nothing more then those. They did give me some time to walk and think however, which was honestly what I needed.
Two of my friends had been turned into monsters, my sister had abandoned me, and still some of our members were enslaved by the government which claimed to be acting for our good.
Whenever I thought about it, I wanted to sob, break something, and run away. Whenever I thought about why I was here, in the highlands, with people who felt the damn same way, or at last similar…it gave me no end of torment.
But I couldn’t just let this go. None of us could.
I had been born a year or so after the government had been taken over. I didn’t know much about how it happened or why. Only really the little bits that Gloria could remember, and that our parents had told us, along with people like Julian, from the army. The things I did know was that people on the few radios we’d had screamed about “Communists” and that supposedly, the new government was for the. Bullshit.
It hadn’t been. Of course it hadn’t been. Before, our home was on a better path. It wasn’t perfect, but it had been ours. People had a say. People had been trying to take a stand, push back against all of the corporations which wanted to take what was ours. And we had nearly make good progress.
Now? It belonged to everyone except for us. People were tossed in prisons just for the act of speaking out. Or even lesser crimes then that. Soldiers scoured the countryside, destroying anything which remotely opposed them. Our people were exploited for labor, or for our lives. Men like Ramiro Soto found it profitable to betray their homelands for the Americans and other foreigners who took advantage of a kicked dog while it was down.
That was what were up against. The strongest men in the world, hiding behind some of the weakest and most feeble.
I sighed, thinking about it all, as I checked another trap. Empty. Only two had anything of substance, in the game bag at my side. Not nearly enough. I’d hoped the others would have found more over time, but I didn’t have my hopes up by any means. We had plenty of hungry nights, recently. Julian wouldn’t be happy, but that was what it was. Hopefully, Bianca’s return, and with the rest of the necklace, could distract people from the lack of food another day.
I imagined tonight was going to be hectic. People were going to go crazy over the rest of the necklace squares, if only because everyone here would jump for power. I didn’t blame them, but they’d seen what Otto could do. They wouldn’t care how they looked, if it meant getting something like that.
I didn’t have much interest in it. Both because I didn’t trust this…the best thing to call it would be magic, wouldn’t it? And because if I was going to be in this fight, I was going to be in it as me. Not as some kind of animal. I needed to be able to look back on this once this was all over, and process each of my thoughts as my own. Be able to, no matter the outcome…
See it for what it was.
It was a hard thing to register, even if it was my own goal. But I knew I didn’t want to become like Otto and Bianca. That said, I wouldn’t blame anyone who did.
Gloria might have. But I wasn’t my sister. And when all this was over, and hopefully we had all the right people dead at our feet, I’d be able to tell her exactly why she was wrong. But for now?
I looked up at the sky. About midafternoon. I’d just checked the final trap, and found a trapped squirrel. Maybe a bit of luck after all, I mused, before heading back towards the camp.
Maybe I was lucky. Maybe we were lucky. In the moment, I thought I was doomed, when I heard the sound of a gunshot, and presumed we’d been found. When there was a second, then a third, I was even more assured of it.
I’d been under a covering, eating a rewarding meal of some curated berries and a bit of meat from some kind of wild squirrel, when it all started. I scrambled, just like I had this morning, the familiarity of the situation lost on me in the moment. Grabbing a gun, I hurried over to where the sounds were. A fourth shot. It didn’t register until I had moved over a segment of rocks, rifle in hand, that these were too measured out to be a full fledged gunfight.
That’s when I saw the peculiar scene going on down below.
A grouping of about seven of my comrades, circled up around a figure I almost thought was Bianca for a second. He too, had jaguar features, in the form of his head, which seemed to have the shape and proportion of a humans, but with the features and structure of a jaguar. But that was where the initial similarities ceased. A feathered scarf hung around his neck, it’s composition looking like a pygmy owl, and a cloak that seemed to be made from the shells and hides of multiple armadillos. He wore armor made from thick cloth, diamond shapes woven through it, and I recognized it from old collections I used to look at when I was younger. His feet and legs were wrapped in vines, and his arms were covered by gauntlets which glinted ever slightly with some kind of crystal material.
His eyes were a sickly yellow, the most monstrous feature I could see about him. I presumed it was a he, based on his build, and general distribution of features. That, and something about him gave off that sort of energy. Standing in his presence was an odd thing, because I felt something strange come over me. A sense of understanding. A sense of calm. A sense of reassurance, in my very blood, that this was alright. I stayed my weapon visibly, even if the seven people around him didn’t. It was odd, to me. Didn’t they feel the same way?
It soon dawned on me that four shots had been fired, and that these seven all still had guns raised. Given how close he was, they much have fired near point blank, and yet…the man in front of them was unharmed.
It was a few seconds that felt like eternity, only broken from my spell by noticing one particular thing: He was floating. Four inches off the ground maybe. But it was unmistakable. And that’s when the scowl met my face, and I started marching down towards the group, ignoring my instinct of safety and keeping my weapon in hand.
I switched to Spanish, a language we all knew at least parts of.
“…What’s going on, why are-“
“It came from the brush” One of them, a man named Bastian, spoke first. He was a lot bigger then me, with a head full of facial hair that hid a lot of his face. He gestured with his rifle towards the floating man. The term it was seemingly dismissed within my mind before I could even really consider it.
“…And I’m very sure I hit it.” Another, a woman named Alana, followed up. They were looking at me, though making sure to keep our mysterious visitor in their peripheral.
The tension was palatable. Weapons still pointed. I was convinced that if he as much as moved, we’d get seven more shots. Which was worrying, for a lot of reasons. This man seeming to be bulletproof among them.
My first thought, upon seeing him float, had been to compare him to her. The rage I felt mixing with the strange tremor of peace within me for an odd and aggravating sense of emotion. Of course he was bulletproof too. Just floating there, like some kind of messiah.
These were all conclusions drawn in but a moment. I had no backing for them. Just instinct. Like I’d always had.
I was lost in thought, for those few moments. Lost in the strange feelings stirring within me. The gun was heavy in my hands. The passing glances from the other seven weighed even further. The tension pushed down on me from all directions. The world was blending together, my head was pounding where it wasn’t before. I felt overwhelmed, in a way that I most definitely hadn’t been but a few moments ago. In a way that I had never felt before in my life.
It was to the point where I didn’t even recognize the series of further gunshots, and the man’s massive hands placing themselves around my shoulder. I widened my own, an indescribable series of feelings rushing through me, as the world seemed to almost fade away.
But it didn’t. It just changed. My eyes felt forced open, as I stared forward at the man who had clasped my shoulders. The gunfire and the men and women who surrounded me but a moment ago. The rocks beneath my feet were there for a lingering moment longer, before giving way to soft dirt.
I couldn’t look away. Even as he released, and I felt that I still had a gun in my hand. The smallest inkling. Shoot. Resist. But I couldn’t. And it felt so very futile.
Was this how I died? To a different brand of flying maniac?
It seemed not. He just stood there a moment, as I got my bearings again.
The landscape had taken on a faint redish orange hue. The stone within my feet given way to soft dirt, atop it various different floral plants. It would have been nice to look at, if it wasn’t for the circumstances. Where the sun was once in a position of mid-afternoon, it seemed to now be setting. It was a jarring thing to see.
The slope of the mountain was still there, even if the structure simply wasn’t. And down that slope, I could see several others.
One of the seven with the guns was here. A man named Dominic, who looked just as bewildered as I did. He was taller then me, stockier, and could probably throw me if he needed to, and had a mane of unkempt dark brown hair. He was from another village like mine, and didn’t talk all that much.
Further down the hill, I saw a few more familiar faces. A woman named Gala, who was missing an eye from an accident she didn’t bring up much. An eye patch covered the wound, along with her long straight hair which always seemed frazzled-not much time for hair care, out here. She looked as if she’d been eating when she’d been taken wherever this was, and looked around with some shock. Nearby her was Andreas, a friend of mine from the same village as myself, Bianca, Otto, and Gloria. He was about my age, and generally tried to keep upbeat, which just made him likeable overall. His easygoing smile was gone now, though, and he started moving up the hill towards me.
Finally, on the other side of me, three others. Colel, a shorter woman who came up to my shoulders. Granted, she could still easily kick my ass, and had multiple times. She was nice, unless you made fun of her height. She had, by some miracle, managed to keep her auburn hair short, and her brown eyes always seemed to be looking around for something.
The other two people were Otto and Bianca. Both looked like they had been sleeping, and slowly, and bewilderedly stood up. They looked like they were siblings, the same type of black hair, amber eyes, and even similar heights. Otto had a bit of untamed stubble, and Bianca had a few scars which Otto had been lucky enough to dodge. Otherwise, almost identical. They seemed to notice each other after a moment, and quickly moved over to one another, embracing. It was nice to see, enough to get a smile to my face, despite the circumstances.
The display couldn’t fully distract me however, especially when the creature in front of me, the man with the jaguar’s head, landed in front of me.
He was a lot taller then I was. Seven feet at least. He was imposing as well, in the way he almost loomed, sickly yellow eyes looking down at me. I wasn’t tiny, I was nearly six foot-but he made me feel that way.
It took me a long moment, but I spoke. Slipping back into Spanish.
“…Who are you? Why are you?” I mustered the most defensiveness I could into my tone. Dominic had taken a few healthy steps back, and was looking back over to the approaching Gala and Andreas.
On the other side, Colel was approaching as well, at a light jog. Otto and Bianca hadn’t moved yet.
He didn’t seem to understand me. His eyes conveying almost a sense of confusion, something which didn’t seem to fit his current demeanor. In a different context, it would have made me laugh.
I didn’t say anything else, just sort of standing there dumbfounded, until the others caught up. Colel gave me a pointed look, before speaking in Spanish again.
“…What’s going on. Where are we. Who is this.” She said questions like they weren’t questions. Dominic shook his head.
“I don’t think Kinil knows either. This guy showed up out of the brush. Took bullets to the chest, and didn’t even blink. Now…we’re here. Wherever here is.”
I nodded. Gala and Andreas looked confused, but then again, so did we all. Otto and Bianca had finally begun to approach, both smiling a bit too much for this particular scenario.
We waited for them, almost expecting them to know more. Their approach did warrant a reaction from him, as he looked down with his yellow eyes to watch them approach. Raising one arm, beckoning. This hurried their paces. Bianca smiled, speaking in Chʼorti to me aloud.
“Isn’t he wonderful?”
“Who is he?” I said, quickly in reply, switching tongues with ease.
“A savior for us. Like I told you. Tell them what you told me, savior.” She said, looking up towards the jaguar headed man. Bowing her head in reverence.
The jaguar man gave her a long look. Acknowledging the bow, before starting to speak. To my shock, he spot Chʼorti. It wasn’t perfect, but it seemed to function just fine. Oddly enough, the others, even those who I knew didn’t understand that language, seemed to be able to listen perfectly, without confusion.
“Your kingdom is in ruins. I have awoken to the drums of war. I have awoken to the faithful being long dead. I have awoken to only flickers of bloodline remaining. I wish to know what has gone on. And why.”
Despite the six others around me, he seemed to be looking at me, very pointedly.
I took that as reason to speak.
“Our “Kingdom” has hardly even been not in ruins. Not at war. Not killing each other. Are you asking what happened this time, or just in general? When exactly did you go to sleep, anyways? Seems like you took a long rest, nice and cozy wherever you were?” Those flickers of anger and resentment still lingered, but I pushed through them.
His gaze and expression did not shift, as he responded.
“I was entombed for this purpose. I knew I would awaken to mayhem. I seek to know what has happened, so I may put an end to it. I will save your kingdom, as I and all of my kind once did. But I must know how.”
I must have looked at him like he was crazy, because it was. But I followed up all the same.
“Save? Save?! How do you expect to save us? We’ve been fighting for years, and haven’t gotten anywhere. Just more people slaughtered, and more fighting that doesn’t end. You want to help? Go burn the rest of the world to ashes. Then maybe we can live in peace. But I somehow doubt that’s what you mean.” I spoke with vitriol, venom. Bitterness clinging to each word.
A long pause, before a reply.
“If that is what you wish, then I will see it is done. By the divine rested in me. But that will take time. What would you have me do now. While I prepare what you speak of.”
Just like that. I laughed. A most uncharacteristic thing, for me.
“…What are you? Some kind of messiah?”
A small nod.
“I could be called one. I am a god. One of many divines once serving the people who lived over this land. Now, it seems I am the last. And even my name has waned with my power. But that can be fixed. You have already seen some of my power, stored from the times when my name was known on every corner. They hold it.”
A heavy gesture, towards Otto and Bianca.
“And the rest can as well.”
I stood there, in stunned silence, for what felt like several minutes. No one else spoke, and even if I didn’t look at them, they seemed to be having a similar reaction.
A god. It was laughable. But the necklace. It was proof of some kind of power, wasn’t it? And if he had more like that, and he was willing to help?
I wracked my brain, trying to string my chaotic thoughts together. Above all, though, my anger was still there. But it was no longer directed towards the man in front of me. Instead, I looked out at the horizon, the landscape. The world which I wanted gone. Like I had just told him, to ashes.
I spoke again. Before anyone else gathered the courage to.
“You can help us. You want to help us?” I posed the question, for final confirmation.
He nodded.
“Then prove it. What can you offer us? The necklace was one thing, but if we’re going to burn the world down, or even take back our kingdom, we’ll need more.”
He seemed…not taken aback, but he had a small inkling of surprise to him.
“The necklace should be split amongst you all. One mote of it’s power for each, one beast for each. I can ensure your harness it. Control the beast, and not have it control you. You will be all the better suited for the fight ahead that way.”
“One mote for each of us but one, you mean. There’s seven of us, six squares.” I didn’t speak this time, instead, Gala did. Her voice was somewhat sharp, at that. For someone who only spoke a few words, her Chʼorti was pretty good all of a sudden.
His eyes settled on me.
“I had accounted for that. Each of you has a blood connection to me. Or, more importantly, the people I once served and protected. It is what will allow you to harness the power the necklace holds at all. However. The speaker has a stronger connection. It is a strong flow. I have another purpose in mind for him, if he allows it.”
I raised an eyebrow.
“And what purpose would that be?”
“In the times I am from, each god would have a favored champion. A servant which eclipsed the idea of servitude. Someone who stood as an incarnation of their power. Normally, it would be someone already faithful, but I believe the time for that has long passed. I would have you as my champion, if you would accept. The powers it would offer are great. The art of War, the knowledge of Sorcery, and the power of Opulence, these things would all be yours. Under my guidance, you could be truly great.”
Once again, silence. No one, including me, knew what to make of it. I had a moments reflection. Assuming this was true, and it wasn’t some kind of elaborate hallucination or trick, did I really want this? To enter into this kind of agreement? Did I really want to live in a world where I potentially became a monster, to fight the monsters which walked around my country? Was that the victory I wanted?
Those thoughts were quashed beneath the storm of my own anger, resurging with just the thought.
I nodded.
“I accept. What else?” I said, crossing my arms, and giving the ‘god’ a long look.
He once more, had the smallest bit of surprise. Andreas gave me a cautious look, he too speaking in Chʼorti where he hadn’t been able before.
“Are we sure about this? I’m not sure I want to take one of those necklace bits, when it happened to Otto-“ He flicked a gaze over to Bianca’s brother “He didn’t look…well.” A flash of concern across his face.
“That’s presumably where this god comes in. He promised to teach. I, for one, would love a chance for some uneven payback, for once.” Colel said, crossing her arms as well.
“Besides, I don’t have that rough of a time of it. If I can just get a bit of help, I’ll be perfectly fine.” Spoke Otto, in a counter, a half glare directed towards Andreas.
Andreas sighed.
“…Fine. I guess…if we’re the only ones who can do this, we have an obligation to, right?”
Everyone seemed to agree with that. I looked back to the god.
“As I was saying…what else?”
“Hm. Well, there is some prepar-“
He began, but I, emboldened, cut him off.
“No, that’s not what I’m asking. What else are you giving us? Seven people with magic isn’t going to be enough to take our kingdom back.”
Aggression seeped into my tone. Almost everyone was put on guard by this, for some reason, giving me cautious or worried looks.
A long pause. But he did have a response.
“Jaguar-child, Bianca. Did you recover the urn?” He said, his gaze settling on her instead of me.
She nodded, giving another small bow.
“I did. It is at my bedside.”
“Then I can indeed help you further. Your allies. If you trust them, tell them to each drink from it with their hands. Just enough to wet their tongues. That blood is of those who I once served. Once it is within them, I can bestow upon them blessings. Not potent ones, but perhaps enough to turn the tides for you. However, I cannot do much more beyond simply joining you in battle.”
That was an interesting way of giving the others power. But if it worked, it worked. And him joining us himself was a good sign. He was bulletproof, after all.
I nodded.
“That should be enough, then. Can we be returned to our camp? We should begin getting ready.” I was eager to talk to Julian about all of this.
“One final question. What shall I do first? What shall we do first? To take back your kingdom, of course, before moving onto the world.”
That gave me pause, and put me into a few moments of thought. It was Bianca who came up with the idea first, one which I never would have proposed…but it was perfect.
“The city. It must be ours first.”
Guatemala City. It had fallen once. And now, with this? Perhaps it would fall again. I smiled.
“Yes. The city, the one we overlook. That’s our first step.”
It felt giddy just to say it. The god seemed to agree, since for the first time in this entire odd sequence of events and conversation, I saw him smile a fanged smile. Holding both arms aloft, towards me in an almost reverent way.
“So it shall be. I name you Liberator, Beast-Friend, and He-Who-Mends. I name you, in the eyes of gods living and not, in the embrace of the chaos which spawned myself and all else in this world and the next, Champion. Champion of I, Champion of the Blood of Kings, Champion of the land you walk.”
His little speech wasn’t all that long. But it felt that way. And it was almost dazing, to see what happened next.
Each of the six people around me kneeling. Some of them with surprise, like they were doing it against their will. And some with full committal.
And with that, we returned to the camp.
I awoke in a cot, and shot up, much to the alarm of the people around me. It seemed I’d been moved to one of our shelters. It didn’t matter, though, I hurried out, and into the open.
In the center of the camp, I saw him. The god. Hovering about thirty feet in the air, seeming serene. A small crowd had gathered. By now, it was seemingly nearing sunset, just like it had been wherever I had just been. The light casting an odd shadow over the divine being.
The crowd, however, included the person I wanted to speak to.
My commanding officer, Julian. Holding the necklace carefully, dangled from his fingertips. With a giddy smile I called out in Spanish to him.
“Julian, we need to talk. We might finally be able to get something done”
He turned with a somber expression, that was fully gone by the time I explained my afternoon to him.
Kindling And Miscellany 