.The Quetzalcoatl Sacrifice.



Deep into the South American jungles, where Aztec ruins still remain unspoiled by greedy adventurers, there lies the hidden Aztec city of Tula. The jungle itself seems to help keep the city hidden from time, where it lays unspoiled and pure. Tula is gorgeous. The surrounding nature mingles peacefully with the large and elegantly carved buildings and the dark skinned people whom live there. Tradition is dominant here, and the tribe hasn’t changed in hundreds of years as they hide in their exotic sanctuary were they are protected by their deity, Quetzalcoatl.

Quetzalcoatl, the Feathered Serpent, is a benevolent and mythical deity, creator of the Aztec tribe and its guardian. The Aztecs have a group of several priests that devote their entire life to his worship, which includes human sacrifice every couple of decades…

French archeologist Marche Brea had booked a solo expedition to the amazon jungle, a bit intrigued by whatever remains of Aztec society. She planned out the solo expedition, primarily out of her distrust of those who only claim to be loyal to research, only to want the treasures just for themselves, or to sell to the black market. Aside from that, she preferred the peace and quiet of working alone, not that she wasn't trained in survival instincts should the need arise.

However, her simple journey to lost aztec civilazations took a turn for the unexpected; beginning with the discovery of a dead body stranded on shore, looking as if he were seeking to escape. In his hand was an amulet of sorts; most likely the reason he was where he was now. She decided he wouldn't mind if the poor soul was relieved of the amulet, though her intentions were to return the amulet to where it belonged.

She wasn't too far from her initial assumption, however; it was a necklace that decided the sacrifice to be sent to the deity, Quetzalcoatl, and the time for that sacrifice wasn't too long off, either. The rule was, simply, the one who possessed the amulet would be the next sacrifice to the deity. It didn't matter in terms of who or how; if you're carrying the amulet, you can be certain you would be offered to the Feathered Serpent.

Marche continued down the river, until she came across a growing view of something few before her had ever seen in their lifetimes...

The jungle teemed with life, and the dark skinned men blended perfectly into the underbrush. Their skin was dusky and slashed with green and brown paints as they prowled the river bank, their dark fathomless eyes focused on the boat that floated through their water. The men seemed to move on all fours almost as often as they moved upright as they stealthy followed the intruders. Each one held an assortment of weapons, and right now their hands were wrapped tightly around what appeared to be hollow sticks.

One man stood out from the rest, and when he raised his hand, the hunters stopped. His painted eyes widened as they caught a familiar glimmer across the water. He tilted his head slightly and rapidly spoke to the group. Their expressions turned excited, as they raised their blowguns and aimed for the passengers on the boat. Lucky for them, but the darts had only a paralyzing affect as they silently flew across the water at their targets.

(Marche was on a solo expedition... one person... >.>;; )

"...Huh?" Marche looked around, hearing some unusual noises. She began to get the feeling of being watched. Regardless, she began to hurry through the river, only to feel some stings on her side, arm, leg and neck. Feeling a drugged sensation, she soon enough passed out on the boat, which rocked a bit before it continued to float down the river, regardless of whether or not it was being steered now.

[Oh shoot! I’m sorry. Lol @[email protected]]

The men rushed after the boat, barely making any sounds as they agilely weaved through the dense jungle. It only took them a few moments to outrun the boat and get into position. One man kneeled down and wrapped his hands around a rope, his eyes catching those of his tribesman that mirrored him across the water. At a hidden cue, both men stood, raising a net between them. It spanned the width of the river and was tightly woven with thick ropes. Strands of plant life clung to it, and it was pretty obvious that the net had laid there for a very long time. It did its job however, as the boat was easily stopped.

The rest of the men waded into the river and pulled the boat to shore where their leader looked upon the woman with an excited grin. He turned to the man nearest him and motioned him forwards. Without looking back, he headed off down the riverbank. The other men turned to follow him, as one stepped forwards and reached into the boat. His hands were rough with calluses, but his touch was gentle as he picked the lady up and into his arms. The darts simply paralyzed their targets, so they remained completely aware, but unable to move. Knowing this, the man gave her a toothy grin that he considered to be friendly, but was most likely just threatening to the woman that lie in his arms.

The dark skinned man stepped back onto the river bank and began heading after the rest of the group. Within the hour, their footsteps began landing on large stone pathways. Tula was immersed in the jungle, but the stone buildings stood out. The men remained silent during the trip, but now they hooted and hollered as they returned to their families with gossip on their tongues. One man merely grinned and continued to follow the leader as they entered one of the large buildings. At his beckon, the man holding Marche moved over to one of the beds and laid her down. The paralyzing drug was soon going to be wearing off, and the men had other things to do other than taking care of their surprise guest. So it was no surprise when an elderly woman with deep wrinkles and long white hair bustled into the room with excited chatter.

”We leave her to you, Chantico.” The leader rumbled in a deep voice. The old lady cackled and ushered the men from her home, before rushing back over to the woman that lay still on her bed. She gave the woman a wink before bustling off again to prepare.

[I'm not sure if she can speak their language, but it would be pretty hard if she didn't. ^^]

Marche could only stare at the strange men as they secured her, and brought her to where they lived. She would of been at awe at the buildings of this new city if she wasn't shocked and confused. Finally, she noticed that she was being brought into one of the buildings, and laid down on a sort of bed. She looked on as an elderly woman, presumably the one the men left her to now, approached her. She seemed a bit unnerved by the wink, so she attempted to speak what little of their language she knew, as picked up by her translator.

"What's... going on..?" She slowly asked, as the wearing drug released its grip on her mouth.

Chantico stood next to the bed and was busy pulling out a chest when Marche spoke. She gave the woman a somewhat surprised grin as she answered, ”Ah! So, the white one does speak our language!” The elderly woman settled down on the corner of the bed as she opened the chest and pulled out a multitude of brightly colored ribbons. ”That is good. It will make getting ready for the ceremony that much easier.” The elderly woman added as she picked out a bright red ribbon. With the ribbon held between her fingers, she began to braid it into a section of her hair.

As she did so, a score of woman entered the room, each holding large buckets of steaming water. They all gave Marche excited and curious looks as they moved to the other side of the room and began emptying their buckets into what appeared to be a bathing tub. Chantico paid them no attention except when a few began to lag behind in an attempt to get closer looks at her guest. ”Off with you!” She exclaimed, rising from her seat and shooing the nosy women away. When they were gone, the old woman turned back around and simply grabbed another ribbon to braid into her hair. ”When you are able to move again, we must get you cleaned up and presentable.” She explained, with a friendly smile.

Marche blinked as the old woman was surprised that she could speak their language, though she tried to make out what was said other than that. She simply watched on as the elderly woman braided ribbons into her hair, and as more, younger looking women came in with buckets of steaming water, pouring them into what seemed like a bath, before watching them leave, some shooed off by the older woman.

Marche couldn't make out the old woman's next words... but... presentable..? "...For what?" She asked, her eyes widened a bit in surprise and confusion.

”For the ceremony tonight.” Chantico answered as she picked out another ribbon. ”There will be a huge feast, lots of dancing and games, beautiful music, and its all for you, my dear.” With those last words, she finished braiding the last section of her hair. A little more digging into the chest and the old woman pulled out a colorful dress which she easily pulled on. She then finished her hair by twisting it into a bun and leaving the ends of the braids poking up like small colorful horns around her head.

Chantico then moved over to the bath and picked up a few exotic flowers on her way. Once she was leaning over the steaming water, she began pulling off the flower petals and sprinkling them into the tub. With the bath now suitable, the old lady moved back over to Marche and grinned down at her. ”You can move now, yes?”

Marche blinked a bit; she didn't really bother to move very much since she was paralyzed, so she tried to sit up a bit, before positioning herself on the side of the bed she was placed on. "I believe I can now..." she replied, letting out a sigh of relief. She now had a better view of the elderly lady's room, especially the filled and decorated bath tub.

(Sorry if the posts don't seem to be very much... x-x; )

”Good! You can get into the water by yourself then, yes?” Chantico observed with a clap of her hands. She turned back to the chest and began pulling out more ribbons. ”When you are finished, then I will braid your hair for you.” There was excitement in the older woman’s voice and in the features of her face. It had been several years since the tribe had seen their god and guardian, Quetzalcoatl.

[It's cool. This one is really short. I just wanna hurry and get my character out! lol]

(Yeah, I kind of understand that. I wanna get to the main/fun stuff too~ XD)

Marche gave a nod in acknowledgement, and went over to the bathtub, removing her clothes in the process before she began to bathe. It was some time since she last took a warm bath, which was when she left on the long trip to the amazons. She figured they would want to hurry up and prepare for this 'ceremony' as soon as possible, so she made sure not to waste too much time as she finished bathing herself.

Chantico proceeded to lay out Marche’s outfit before she finished bathing. The attire was colorful to say the least, and one had to wonder at where the colorful feathers originated from. It consisted of a brazier, and a loincloth that would cover her front and back, yet leave the sides of her legs exposed. The cloth was long, nearly brushing the floor, and had intricate designs stitched into the patterns of snakes.

When the woman was done, Chantico helped her dress and then beckoned her to take a seat. She grabbed a handful of ribbons and began working them into Marche’s hair as she hummed an alluring tune. Even with old age, her fingers were nimble and she finished Marche’s hair in record time. She didn’t, however, twist them up into a bun like hers, but instead she returned to the chest and pulled out a beautiful headdress of colored feathers and beads. ”Here, here! This is yours now.” She said, laying it gently onto the woman’s lap.

After Marche was done, she allowed the elderly woman to help her into the attire without much complaint, and afterwards allowed her to tie the colorful ribbons into her hair. She almost seemed expectant of this 'ceremony' to happen, though she still had her suspicions...

She looked on as she was given a colorful headdress, before Marche picked it up and gingerly took a look at it. "This is for me to wear to the ceremony as well..?" She asked out of curiousity.

”Mmhmm..” Chantico murmured as she finally closed the chest. She gave Marche a smile before heading to her door and peeking out. Satisfied, she turned and waved Marche forward. It was finally time for the ceremony. It was surprising really at how fast the villagers had prepared for it, but then again they had been waiting a whole two decades for the amulet to turn up again. Yes, they were late, but the last amulet holder had managed to escape… thus their frantic preparation for this one. They were afraid that their God was angry, so they had to make this one extra special.

”Oh yes! What is your name young one?” She suddenly asked, as she opened the door and the evening sun’s glare filtered through the room; making the amulet glow.

Marche got up as she followed the elderly woman outside. She had to admit, she never wore something as revealing as the outfit she was wearing now, not in public at least. She took the motion to follow the old lady out as a sort of cue, as she began to put on the headdress. Asked for her name though, she took a quick moment to think of how to pronounce her name in their language, but decided to stick with the original pronounciation. "It is Marche." She replied simply, as she followed the elderly woman to where this ceremony would be taking place.

Chantico rolled the name around on her tongue a bit as she led the way outside. The sun was filtering orange glows around the stone buildings and painting the sky a mixture of pinks and oranges, casting an even more exotic landscape around the two women. Chantico’s house lay on the outskirts of Tula, and as they walked closer to the ceremony Marche could see that the village was at the base of a rocky cliff. Sounds of merriment grew louder as they neared the barrier, and with it came the smell of smoke.

In a matter of moments, there was a clearing before them, dominated by a large fire. The villagers were already camped out, and some of the women were placing the final touches on a large feast that had been laid out. The fire was bright, but if you could look past its glow, then you could see the large waterfall that tore the cliff in two. The villagers were loud, but you could still make out the rumble of the water if you listened.

Chantico’s smile was back as the villagers soon noticed their arrival. One by one, they turned their attention to Marche and grinned. When the pair grew close, Marche would be able to hear their whispered ‘thank you’s as she passes. The man that led the hunting party from earlier stood before the fire; his body artfully painted to look as if he had scales. He, too, wore a headdress of flowers, and a brightly colored loincloth. Chantico stopped some ways away from him, when his eyes turned to the pair. ”Come.” His voice was deep as he spoke to Marche, and he waved for her to step up to him.

Marche followed the elderly woman, listening as her own name was was spoken a few times. She wasn't very used to being barefoot as she walked along the stone pathways to were the ceremony would be held, but she didn't seem to complain very much, since she wasn't hindered by anything rough; maybe these people intended for there to be smooth pathways, with how they lived? Thinking that over, she soon found herself at the clearing, with all sorts of things going on; a large fire, a feast being laid out, and the like.

As she followed the elderly woman into the clearing, they were both greeted by a manner of villagers. As they passed by, Marche could manage to hear the 'thank you's being whispered to her. Thank you... for what? That certainly had her blink for a moment.

Finally, Marche was led to the very man who had brought her to the village. She was a little relunctant at first, but then she proceeded to come up to him as she was called.

The mysterious man watched as she approached, yet his expression had not changed. He instead turned to the crowd that was quickly forming a ring around him and Marche. He patiently waited for his tribesmen to quiet before he spoke. ”Over eighty seasons have passed since we last took up in offerings for our God and Guardian, Quetzalcoatl. He has shown us immense patience despite our neglecting behavior, but now it is time to make up for our wrong.” He paused in his speech; lifting his arms open wide. ”Tonight, we shall celebrate The Feathered Serpent like never before and… we shall pay our respects to our white-skinned sacrifice. For with her death, we shall live for many more seasons under the watchful eye of Quetzalcoatl!”A tremendous roar of stomping and clapping arose when he finished.
The tribe was overcome with excitement, their attention captured by Marche. They were praising the God, and Marche for her soon-to-be sacrifice.

Marche attempted to listen closely to the man's speech... she could make out a few words, such as Quetzalcoatl... she was aware of the Quetzalcoatl from the beliefs of these people, so she could assume they were celebrating this god... but something else caught her attention. With her death...?

She only took a few seconds to register what the man spoke to his fellow tribesmen... Then it hit her; she was meant to be a sacrifice of some sort!

She began to become nervous, biting her lower lip and clenching her hands into fists in secrecy, as the others cheered her on... She had a horrid feeling in her stomach; one that she would be forced to give up had she eaten beforehand... She was expected to die for these people... no wonder they were keeping that fact hushed until now...

The man watched in silence as the rest of the tribe erupted into celebration. His dark eyes were watching the sun slowly sinking beneath the rocky surface of Tula’s cliff and leaving the village in darkness. As much as he was paying attention to the sun’s descent, the mysterious man was also aware of the change with Marche. The fire was flicking light across his face and the dark limbs of his peers as they began to dance around the flames. Several men with strong looking arms moved over to take their positions behind large animal skin drums. They took up their sticks and began a slow and steady rhythm that seemed to vibrate through the village.

The summoning for Quetzalcoatl, was finally beginning, and it seemed like impatience was beginning to set in as well. It had been a whole decade since they had last seen their God, and they knew he must be angry with them for losing his last sacrifice. The whole village was worried. More and more of these white-skinned people had been showing up and their lives were being threatened. With sacrificing one of their enemies to him, the Aztecs hoped that he would stay with them and protect Tula once more like he did for their ancestors.

When the time was near, the man turned to face Marche. ”You must come with me now.” He said, extending a hand out towards her. He wasn’t sure if the woman could speak his language, but it didn’t matter. If she refused to come along quietly, then he would simply have to force her.

Marche also watched the sun set on the area, as if the sun had abandoned her. She also begin to watch the others dance and the drummers beat a rhythem that could of been her heart if she hadn't tried to maintain control. She noticed that they were celebrating eagerly... as if they were wanting to be rid of her fast.

So these are the last minutes of her life...

She was very relunctant, but she slowly began to follow the man who seemed to be impatient of the ceremony.. no, the execution's procedure, not bothering to take his hand. She began to have her regrets about coming to the amazon outright, but now that wasn't something to be undone.

As she followed the man, she muttered under her breath a prayer, this time in her own language...

"Whoever is watching me now, have mercy... In my darkest hour, I only ask to be kept from harm... or at the least, to be numb against the incoming pain..."

The man let his hand drop, and when he was satisfied that the woman was content with following, he led the way around the fire and towards the cliff. The waterfall formed a small lake at the base of the cliff, and that was their destination. The tribe was following close behind, the women, men, and children all dancing and humming an enchanting melody. The drumming was speeding up as the man and Marche reached the edge of the lake. Now that they were close, a stone pathway was visible. It cut through the lake and ended at the base of the waterfall.

The water’s surface was eerily still, but as soon as the man took his first steps onto the pathway, it changed. It almost appeared as if the water was boiling, and yet it didn’t. He only made it about a third of the way before he stopped. ”Quetzalcoatl!” He yelled, his deep voice ringing against the cliff side. He thrust his arms out and above his head. ”Quetzalcoatl, your people call upon you once more! We honor your presence with riches every sun rising, but today we give you something special. Our borders have been plagued by the white-skinned demons. We know they steal the land around us and destroy everything in their path. Now, fate brings one here wearing your amulet. We beseech you, oh guardian. Please take this woman and bless us with your presence like you once did for our ancestors when they were threatened.”

After a moment, his voice and the drumming fell away, leaving Tula in an eerie silence. It stayed like that for several moments, and the tribe’s faces began to fall as overwhelming sadness began to set in. The man’s body tensed. He was angry with the white-skins. Their Gods disappearance must be because of them. As anger built within him, the man began to turn to face Marche. Ready to unleash his anger on one he felt was responsible.

That was when the sound of the waterfall suddenly changed. The villager’s held their breath as they watched the waterfall split into two streams. It was like a curtain opening, and the water moved to spill down the sides of the pathway. Once the last of the water hit the stones, you could see that there had been a cave hiding behind the water, but its depths were hidden in shadows.

”Huemac.” A deep voice rang out from the shadows, and if ever a voice could sound like it held power, then this was one. It visibly shook the Aztec’s and they responded with gasps and yells of glee as they humbled themselves. Huemac was the name of the man that stood upon the pathway, and immediately the man fell to all fours when he was addressed by the mysterious voice.

((Thought I would give you a chance to respond if you want.))

Marche could feel a growing dread as she was led from the place of celebration towards the source of the waterfall, as it poured into a sort of lake. Marche only stood and watched as the man began to step into the lake, on a sort of pathway that was submerged. Finally, she heard the man speak, most likely of herself and being offered as a sacrifice. If that were true, then this Quetzalcoatl might reside within the vicinity of this area.

Almost desperate, she clasped her hands together, lowered her head slightly and began to mutter her prayer.

"God, or any god for that matter that can hear me, I wish for you to provide me my protection more than ever..." She looked up only a second to see that the man who led her hear was angry, not being replied to by his own dear god. She almost flinched until she noticed that the waterfall was starting to... split apart. At that, she continued her prayer.

"I am now facing a situation of inevitable death... I am only to ask that I am protected from the pain and suffering of death's grasp... by any means. Please hear me out, as I shall be eternally gratefu..."

She was then cut off by a loud bellow, which caught her in surprise. She could now feel her own heart pounding... was this the end?

Firelight flickered against something emerging from the darkness of the cave. His vibrant green eyes held a hint of melancholy as he looked upon the Aztecs while remaining hidden in a cloak of darkness. He recognized Huemac’s humbled form easily, since the chieftain was the only person whom ever walked upon the pathway during the ceremony.. that is except for the ‘sacrifice’. His eyes almost seemed to be dull inside as they slid to where she would be standing. He was hit with a bit of surprise, however, as his eyes landed on Marche. Her white skin and pale hair seemed to glow from the firelight’s kisses; making her appear as if she was only an apparition of his imagination. His heart beat faster.. but why?

He tore his gaze from the exotic woman and gathered himself. It was again time to play his role. With his handsome features a stoic mask once more, he began to slither forwards; the light catching the gold bird head of his headdress, which sat directly above his face, first. With another smooth movement, the fire illuminated his face and torso. He was very lean and muscular, and his skin was a creamy cocoa that sparkled oddly. His angular face was crowned with brightly colored feathers that fell from his ornate headdress to the point that one was curious if they were his hair. His face was decorated with four sharp stripes of a darker brown than his skin. There were two on each side, and they started at his chin and worked their way up. From his neck hung beautiful jewelry, and his torso was similarly decorated with dark brown designs.

With a final movement, the one called, Quetzalcoatl, finally moved onto the stone pathway and was clearly visible to all. His torso ended with brightly colored scales that glimmered like gems and led into a huge snake-like tail; except for the wings that also protruded from it. The ‘belly’ of the tail was a deep golden color, and the rest of it was a bright emerald green with slashes of sapphire blue and ruby red markings. From his hips sprouted two huge wings that belonged on some exotic bird. The feathers were green and blue, but faded to reds and oranges at the ends. The end of his tail swayed behind him as he came to a stop on the pathway. Unlike a snake, his tail ended with a slash of feathers on it.

”I accept your offer.” His voice rang out again, deep and brassy. ”I see the trouble that awaits Tula, and with this sacrifice I will guard your borders once again. No invaders will roam our jungles while I prowl beneath the trees.” He looked as if he might say more, but was interrupted with the thundering praise of the Aztecs. Huemac was smiling, tears coming to his eyes as he stood and turned to Marche.

”It is time.” He spoke softly, as he came up beside her. One of his hands went to the small of her back as he urged her forwards. ”We thank you white-skin.. and know that with your death you protect the whole of the tribe.” As Huemac spoke, Quetzalcoatl’s empty, yet bright, green eyes landed on her.