Conversation: Memories and Beginnings

At first, Xolotl had been somewhat hesitant about Ahuitzotl's arrival.

But before long, Ahuitzotl produced the High Priest's jade token. His grandfather had always kept this token close to his person; it represented an important trust.

"Your grandfather entrusted me with your care. From now on, I will be your teacher!"

Ahuitzotl said with a smile. His smile was like the refreshing fragrance of pine and cypress, making one feel close to him without realizing it.

"Now, I will help you adapt to this place. In the future, we share the same goal."

Avet spoke with deeper meaning, his smile profound. His smile was like a spring breeze, yet concealed a stern chill.

Within a few days, under Avet's gentle instruction and considerate care, Xolotl hesitantly accepted this wise uncle and teacher, even treating him as a close friend and confidant. After all, in such a grim army camp, aside from this uncle and teacher who had suddenly appeared, he could find no one else who could help him.

Of course, he remained cautious, always remembering his grandfather's words at parting and remembering his persona. In truth, this was not difficult, because much of the time, this was simply what the young body's instincts gave him.

"Xolotl, you are innocent and naive, ignorant of the world. You must obey the king and 'must not' speak recklessly."

Avet showed great concern for young Xolotl's daily life, attending to his clothing, food, lodging, and travel with meticulous care. At the same time, he always wore a sincere smile. Whenever he spoke with young Xolotl, he could always suit the boy's feelings, dispelling the fear and loneliness in his heart.

That day, Avet called young Xolotl out to watch the sunset. The two watched as brilliant crimson clouds filled the sky, while even the treetops glimmered with flowing, radiant colors.

Avet took out a small flask and drank deeply, then handed it to Xolotl. The youth drank deeply as well. Inside was Tequila mixed with honey and Spice. The liquor was delicious, seemingly refined, though its strength was concealed beneath the sweetness of honey and the rich fragrance of Spice. It went down exceptionally smoothly.

Young Xolotl gazed upon the majestic scenery while chatting idly with his uncle and teacher. Before he knew it, he had drunk too much.

Seeing the youth's flushed face and feeling the faintly swaying body leaning against him, Avet smiled slightly. Without revealing anything, he guided the conversation deeper. In the hazy exhilaration, under the effects of alcohol and some unknown drug, Xolotl no longer held anything back. At last, he spoke his heart.

"You mean the Sun is a great fireball, and the Earth beneath our feet is a great ball of dirt. And this great ball of dirt revolves endlessly around the great fireball day and night?!"

Avet stared at Xolotl in shock.

"Yes, yes! Avet, you really are clever. You understood as soon as I said it once."

The sweet wine slid down his throat, leaving him exceptionally comfortable and strangely excited. Xolotl excitedly patted Ahuitzotl's shoulder, his thoughts impossible to restrain, soaring like a bird.

"The ball of dirt beneath our feet also spins endlessly on its own. It is because it revolves around the Sun that we have changing seasons! And it is because the ball of dirt spins that we have day and night!"

Ahuitzotl frowned and studied Xolotl's face carefully. All he saw was sincerity, the red flush of drunkenness, and the excitement of encountering a kindred spirit. So he fell silent. Even with his abilities, he could not tell whether Xolotl was truly foolish in drink or merely playing mad and acting the fool.

"Child, you truly are different from ordinary people."

In the end, that was all Avet could say.

"Haaha! My grandfather said the same thing!"

Xolotl laughed happily, his whole body filled with an inexplicable sense of freedom. Yet the joy in his heart was genuine. Never before had anyone listened so patiently as he spoke of the science of his previous life and explained the workings of nature. He had once mentioned another understanding of the world to his grandfather and father. His father had dismissed it with disdain, while his grandfather had only been delighted that he was different from ordinary people. Yet neither of his closest kin, grandfather or father, cared about what he was actually saying.

Wine loosened the tongue, and the barely noticeable drug brought an intense feeling of trust. Xolotl's emotions were in a state of feverish excitement. He could not help speaking of the thoughts buried in his heart, releasing some of the ceaseless pressure this age—whose values clashed so severely with his own—had placed upon him.

"Ever since I was very young, there have been other memories in my mind—or perhaps, some scenes."

Xolotl's head swam as he gestured vaguely in description. Alcohol affected his movements and muddled his thoughts.

"Oh? What sort of memories were they?"

At this, Avet's spirits rose. His smile grew ever more sincere as he asked.

"In those memories, I lived in a peaceful land. I had never personally ended another person's life. In that world, at least around me, there was not so much bloodshed and killing."

As he spoke, Xolotl grew somewhat nostalgic, with a touch of melancholy.

Even in his previous life, there had never been true equality. The starting point of one's birth decided far too much. Yet there were, after all, ideas of equality in that world, and people unwilling to accept oppression, people who longed to change the world. It was unlike this time, where harsh notions of hierarchy had sunk deep into people's hearts like the decrees of the gods. Slaughter between different ranks was everywhere, just like a savage jungle.

"In my old understanding, power needed checks and balances, and there were always certain bottom lines that had to be defended. Those in power should not casually take the lives of the weak. Yet here, lives were taken suddenly, as if it were only natural, wholly impossible to resist!"

Since arriving in this age, young Xolotl had seen more blood than he would ever have seen in his entire former life. At every moment, he felt a powerful sense of insecurity. Even though he had been born into a family of high status, he still could not ensure the lasting safety of his own life.

In this age, lives vanished far too casually! The lives of commoners were like weeds, liable to wither at any moment. Nobles and Priests died on brutal battlefields and in hidden assassinations. In truth, young Xolotl had already brushed past death several times! And the fear of not knowing when the western colonizers would arrive was buried deep in his heart, something he could tell no one.

"Avet, look! The king stands at the highest point, calling himself the incarnation of a god. He freely dictates my life and the lives of others, forcibly taking me away from my grandfather. The nobles inherit their rank generation after generation, standing above others and controlling nearly all wealth; my family is the same. Commoners toil hard all year, yet struggle even to feed and clothe themselves, unable even to support their children and elders. As for slaves, they have no future at all. They may die in the mines, die in the fields, or become sacrifices."

"The Alliance has rigid hierarchies, a cruel order, bloody sacrifices, and backward productive power. None of this is simply ordained! Since I have come here, I should at least try to change something! Even if it is only to bring a tolerant order to this cruel society, draping it in a veil of tender warmth..."

Wine emboldened him. Xolotl swayed his head as countless memories of the past spun through his mind, and longing for "home" surged into his heart. There lay the values of his former youth, the advanced ideas passed down through many years, and the original self he had been before the age changed him!

In this era, the rigid hierarchical order was another thing he found hard to accept. Divine authority stood supreme and ruled society. Royal authority suppressed the nobles, nobles controlled Warriors, and Warriors decided whether commoners lived or died. The king methodically eliminated factions that threatened him; nobles cruelly executed disobedient commoners; Warriors coldly hunted down Wildmen who had not submitted. Lives were like duckweed, trampled and adrift with nowhere to rely on.

And he had come from an entirely different age, having received an utterly different education since childhood. Even now, he found it hard to grow accustomed to such rigid hierarchy, and he could never accept treating commoners' lives as worthless grass.

These conflicts of belief clashed fiercely in his young mind. Under the influence of hormones, he was sometimes impulsive and sometimes lost. Everyone around him was instilling in him another, pure law of the jungle, a system of understanding supposedly better "suited" to this era.

He was merging with this cruel age. That meant mutual compromise—whether by the world or by himself. Such compromise and growth could never be completed in a single day.

Thus, at times, young Xolotl would also slip out of step. He had pitied the girl during the capture of prisoners; he had recklessly dismantled his grandfather's divine attire in the Holy City. And here, with Avet, he was having this dangerous yet unavoidable conversation.

Avet remained silent. He no longer needed to wrestle with the question of whether Xolotl was truly foolish or merely pretending. A child like this, even one with strange knowledge, could not possibly threaten the king. Yet Xolotl's words still stirred faint ripples in his cold and cruel heart. Facing such a pure and harmless youth, he finally revealed some of his own ruthless thoughts.

"Xolotl, this world has always been cold and cruel. Lions eat deer, deer eat grass. If they do not eat, they die; once they die, they are eaten. Priests, nobles, Warriors, commoners, slaves. City-State people, foreigners, Wildmen. They all eat one another, kill one another. What difference is there between a City-State and the jungle?"

"Sunlight is limited. If weeds are not pulled out, Corn cannot grow. Look at the rainforest before you: the higher you stand, the more sunlight you receive, and the longer you live. Pine Wood lives for a hundred years, reed lives for ten, mushrooms live for one season. How could there be anything alike? Even death is not alike!"

As he spoke, rare emotion entered Avet's voice.

"The so-called lives of mortals, the so-called tolerant order, are all merely accessories of power! You must understand: as long as you are powerful enough, you can be free. And when you reach the very highest place, that is absolute freedom!"

At last, he unconsciously glanced toward the distant royal litter and the majestic king seated upon it, murmuring in a low yet resolute voice.

"And I, too, bear the bloodline of the gods!"

The moment the words left his mouth, Avet became alert. He stopped speaking and looked toward Xolotl beside him, only to find the other still lost in drunken reverie. He relaxed slightly, changed his expression into a smile, and once more became flawless.

Avet patted Xolotl's shoulder, steadying the unsteady youth. With a gentle smile, he said,

"Xolotl, though I do not know what memories you speak of, I can hear the contradictions and confusion in your heart. Whether as a Warrior or a noble, excessive thought is meaningless!"

As he spoke, he glanced again at Xolotl's Celestial Dog attire and added a serious lesson.

"And as a Priest, you should put more thought into divinity! To the royal family, divinity is humanity. Only by understanding divinity can you avoid dying for nothing."

"Uh... divinity and humanity? Dying?..."

Xolotl asked in a hazy murmur. Avet considered it, then suddenly smiled.

"No, that was wrong. Xolotl, you are very good as you are, very good! I will relay your understanding of the Sun and the Earth to the king."

Because only in this way can your precious life be preserved, granting you a tolerant order...

Avet thought with a faint smile, and thought of much more besides. Naturally, Xolotl had no way of knowing these unspoken words. He merely leaned against Avet's shoulder and drifted off to sleep in a daze.

May, with its gentle breeze and fine rain, was summer's tenderness. The warm wind carried the freshness of moisture, and the rainy season had quietly arrived.

After the Teotihuacan Legion joined the army group, the great army marched north. It first turned northeast, threatening Tlaxcala's northern frontier bordering the Empire. King Tizoc met with representatives from Atotonilco Province, namely Reed City, displaying military strength while arranging defenses against the Tlaxcalan.

At the recommendation of the Cihuacoatl officer corps, the king left behind two directly commanded legions here to strengthen defenses and, incidentally, watch the Tlaxcalan and the various City-States.

Then the army continued north for several days, reaching Metztitlan, which Xolotl had once passed through. King Tizoc met with representatives of the Huastec here and accepted another tribute. Next, the army turned southwest and received another City-State Legion from Hueypochtlan, restoring its strength to twenty legions. Of course, more than half the Militia would be needed to maintain logistics.

Once all arrangements had been made, the great army marched directly west, charging toward the nearest large City-State of the Otomi People! This was Xilotepec Suiqiu City, a northern stronghold only two weeks' journey in a straight line from the Lake Capital.

Before long, twenty legions completely encircled Xilotepec, cutting off the City-State's supplies of food, Salt, and part of its water. This typical Mesoamerican city covered only four or five square kilometers. Eight core legions camped east of the city: roughly ten thousand veteran Warriors, twenty thousand capital Warriors, and more than thirty thousand village soldiers maintaining logistics, all stationed beside a tributary of the Tampico River where the supply route was most convenient. These were the forces directly loyal to the king.

As for the remaining twelve City-State Legions, they were evenly stationed along the west, south, and north sides, with more than thirty thousand men on each side. Roughly forty percent were City-State Warriors, and sixty percent were Village Militia. Meanwhile, Xoloc, commander of the Holy City Legion, led the Teotihuacan Legion and camped to the west, where Otomi reinforcements were most likely to appear.

Father and son were stationed far apart, one to the east and one to the west, facing each other from afar. Since their parting in the Holy City, they had not met again. Xolotl often looked westward, but one evening, he only saw more than eight thousand directly commanded Royal Warriors quietly vanish into the forest beyond the camp.

Supplies from the capital could travel north along Lake Texcoco, pass through Lake Xaltocan, and enter the main course of the Tampico River. The grain fleet would then turn west, following a tributary of the Tampico River until it reached a point not far from the riverside camp. A Canoe loaded with grain needed less than half a month to complete the entire journey.

King Tizoc's army was high in morale, with no worries of food shortages. Avet told Xolotl that according to the latest scout reports, Xilotepec held only eight thousand City-State Warriors, more than ten thousand village levies, and several tens of thousands of commoners. Though the city was strong and had been built over many years, the Otomi People within had low morale and were gripped by panic.

If the two sides met in open battle, eight thousand veteran Mexica Warriors would need only one charge to easily rout the Otomi People and drive them into the Tampico River like a Monkey Troop.

And now, Xolotl stood outside the eastern gate. Before his eyes was a city wall around six meters high, built from packed earth and stone and crowded with defenders. Along the narrow wall, the Otomi Warriors' slings, javelins, simple bows and arrows, as well as piled stones, wooden blocks, and ceramic jars of lime, were all clearly visible.

Note: Beginning with the capture of prisoners at age twelve, the protagonist formally left the Butterfly Palace of the Holy City Teotihuacan and began his growth as a youth. The values he brought from the past would gradually merge with the era. After enduring all kinds of trials and brushes with life and death, he would become a true Warrior, a true ruler. In the author's view, real heroes are not born—they require the tempering of time. An ordinary modern person with normal values would find it difficult to inwardly adapt to the cruel, rigid society of antiquity, and even harder to suddenly adapt to a savage, bloody battlefield. It is a complete remolding of the self. Therefore, this book gave the protagonist enough time, along with the guidance of the elders around him, so that he could grow reasonably, step by step.