Xolotl's Day

A gentle breeze drifted through the mountains, stirring the fresh buds at the treetops and carrying moist vapor with it. It was April, when all things sprouted. The Alliance Army had besieged the city for half a year; the plateau's dry season had passed, yet the new rainy season had not arrived.

After returning to the siege camp, Xolotl first rested in his hut for several days. Then his father, Xoloc, came to see him and exchanged news of this campaign with him.

Pamus in the north had nearly been burned to bare white earth, and many Chichimec nomadic hunting tribes had moved south. After Guamare and the Pamus city-state were crippled, the Otomi People's harassment of the army swiftly weakened, and the number of Militia raiders dropped sharply as well.

Though the Otomi People's guerrilla attacks continued, their force had changed from flies into mosquitoes. Each month, Mexica Warrior casualties had finally fallen to a little over a hundred. The city-states' warriors were still somewhat dissatisfied, but it remained within the limits of what they could endure. Food supplies could now keep pace with consumption, and the camp's stores had begun to grow. The course of the war seemed to be improving.

Life during the siege was somewhat idle. Having been on campaign for months, Legion Commander Xoloc had higher expectations for his son. He held a secret talk with Level 4 Senior Warrior Bertad for half a day, then resumed Xolotl's family military training.

As soon as dawn broke each day, Xolotl had to crawl out of bed and begin a warrior's training alongside the newborn Morning Sun. Bertad served as his instructor, teaching him practical combat skills.

The Aztec City-State Alliance was a typical classical militaristic society. Every youth in every Mexica city-state was compelled to undergo military training. Family warrior training began no later than the age of twelve, though the exact timing depended on the family's means.

Xolotl's training, however, had begun when he was ten. His father Xoloc provided him with the most abundant food: fine Corn flatbreads and scarce meat, then had Jaguar Olorosh teach him martial arts.

At first, Xolotl, who possessed an adult's memories, resisted training. He used all manner of hiding places to test Olorosh's intelligence at finding people, thus delaying the start of each lesson.

To raise the boy's interest in martial training, the Jaguar Warrior demonstrated the signature feat of a top warrior under the warriors' protection: facing a Jaguar alone, with nothing but a club. As a human, he could nimbly sidestep the pounce of the great cat, then savagely swing his Obsidian War Club with both hands—one blow to stun the Jaguar, ten blows to kill it!

From then on, the stunned Xolotl obediently completed Olorosh's training requirements. All that tempering eventually became the lines of muscle beneath the boy's thin clothes.

Once city-state youths reached fifteen, they entered the city's strict community military school, the Telpochcalli, where they received practical skills and military instruction. The instructors were all Level 4 Senior Warriors. Like Jaguars watching over a litter of kittens, they could absolutely give every youth an unforgettable "wonderful" memory and leave them "full of spirit."

Those "wonderful" memories lasted five years, until graduation from military school. Outstanding youths gained the status of young warriors and became part of the reserve ruling class. Then they began the advancement process of capturing Captives for promotion, charging fearlessly forward from youth to middle age, until they reached the ceiling of a commoner's struggle: Level 4 Senior Warrior. From then on, they qualified to join the Jaguar and Eagle Legions and become Military Nobility.

Those who failed the assessments would henceforth have no connection to the ruling class. They became Artisans, merchants, or farmers at the very bottom. The finest Artisans could take part in building pyramid Temples, while outstanding merchants were recruited as Pochteca intelligence scouts. They too stood at the edges of the Alliance's ruling class.

A small number of descendants of nobles and Priests entered the city-state's directly administered higher school, the Calmecac. There, military instruction became secondary. The main subjects were noble literature and politics, astronomy and theology, ultimately granting them a higher "starting point": young Noble Warriors or assistant Priests.

Young Noble Warriors and Priests still had to advance in rank by capturing Captives. Level 4 senior noble warriors usually found it easier to join the Jaguar or Eagle Legions and become Level 1 Military Merit Nobles. Level 1 Military Merit Nobles belonged to the minor nobility; above them began the ranks of the great nobles. Higher still came Level 2 Hereditary Nobles, then Level 3 Honorary Nobles, and finally the royal family and king descended from the Sun God. Honorary Nobles already possessed the qualifications to rule a city-state as its lord!

For War Priests, the peak of advancement through capturing Captives was Level 5 Coyote Priest. Beyond that, city-state Priest Elders, Teotihuacan High Priests, and Tenochtitlan Chief Priests all belonged to the summit of the ruling class, one radish to one hole.

In short, to Xolotl, the Aztec class system resembled the Qin State in the eastern lands—"nobility awarded for military merit"—or Prussia in the west—"an army that has a state."

Training in the main camp always began facing the Morning Sun. Xolotl first had to take a half-hour cold bath, wearing only a single pair of trousers in the chill dawn wind to temper his will. Then, in the morning, he underwent two or three hours of endurance training: running, climbing mountains, carrying stones, lifting shields, and marching under loads.

After a brief rest, he continued learning the techniques of shield and War Club from Bertad. Normally, he began by raising the Shield to block, then practiced chopping, striking, and slapping with the War Club, mastering the difference between killing and capturing Captives, before finally engaging in one-on-one sparring.

At such times, Bertad always showed him through nimble strikes what it meant to lift heavy things as lightly as feathers, and what it meant to be impossible to guard against. Xolotl often felt that his Shield was mere decoration, less useful than simply being agile. Bertad, however, always patiently emphasized that the Shield was a warrior's life! This was especially true in large battle formations. If a War Club was lost, there was still a spare dagger; if a Shield was lost, one often would not live another quarter-hour.

Training ended with a hearty lunch. Harsh training required sufficient nourishment, and this was also the greatest constraint in training Commoner Warriors.

Lunch usually began with a cup of hot Cacao. Xolotl truly could not get used to the traditional cold Cacao mixed with Spice and Chili, so he changed to hot Cacao with honey. It still tasted bitter, yet left him feeling comfortable after drinking it.

Mesoamerica was an excellent land for growing Sugarcane, but Sugarcane had not yet arrived. To taste even a little sweetness, one could only rely on costly, scarce wild honey, bland Agave juice, and seasonally limited maple sap. It was said that the Maya People had mastered the top-secret art of keeping bees, giving Xolotl yet another reason to attack the Maya Tribes of Yucatan.

The staple food of Alliance Warriors was Tortillas filled with Black Bean Paste and green beans, providing basic carbohydrates and protein. Warriors loved adding Chili, avocados, and small Tomatoes to their Tortillas. Avocados and Tomatoes were usually expensive. On the Mexican Plateau, however, Chili was available in unlimited supply.

Next came Xolotl's favorite supplemental meal: roasted Venison with Salt and herbs. In meat-scarce Mesoamerica, this was absolutely food for the great noble class. Because Venison was so rare and difficult to obtain, ordinary warrior families often had no choice but to substitute dry, tough Turkey meat.

It was said that the Eastern Maya Tribes had also invented roasted lizards, roasted conches, roasted turtles, and roasted prawns. Xolotl respectfully declined, not daring to try such dangerous foods. Even delicious prawns, once eaten with parasites, could leave one afflicted for life in this era, with almost no cure.

Finally, lunch ended with Agave drinks. Bertad drank a small cup of Tequila, while Xolotl preferred slightly sweet Agave juice. Agave was one of the most important plants in Mexica People's lives. Agave stalks could be roasted and eaten, Agave leaves fed to Turkeys, Agave juice drunk or brewed into wine, and its leaf fibers made into rope. Xolotl thought it ought to be usable for making paper as well.

After lunch came Xolotl's favorite time: study. Every afternoon, he organized the Chinese Characters used in daily life and drew instructional diagrams. Sometimes Avet came to help, taking the opportunity to tell him the latest military news.

Then, as The Sun slanted westward, he happily gathered his followers and watched the imposing warriors beneath the sunset study writing with utterly baffled faces. This was also the rare time when Bertad, the ever-still, weathered warrior, wore a miserable expression.

After night fell, there were no candles made from fat and no songs from the opposite sex, so the warriors had little to do. They could only gather around bonfires to chat, boast, sing, wrestle, and drink. Of course, scarce alcohol was generally supplied only on important ritual days. It was said that the Coastal Tribes of the lowland jungles produced vast quantities of Fruit Wine, especially their sweet Pineapple wine. Unfortunately, Fruit Wine was not so plentiful on the Mexica Plateau.

At such times, Xolotl chatted about everyday matters with his followers, listening as well to life in the city-state streets and markets, tales of distant tribes, and the longings of Commoner Warriors.

When the night deepened, he returned to his hut beneath the moonlight, lay on his grass bed, and watched the hazy starlight beyond the cloth window. His thoughts drifted far away, crossing time and space, until he slowly fell asleep.

Bertad, meanwhile, lay alert on a grass bed in the corner of the hut, quietly guarding a past held in memory and a future he awaited. Beyond the camp, in the mountain forests, the struggles and slaughter between Mexica Warriors and the Otomi People were shut outside, as though separated by a lifetime.

This was Xolotl's day: rising with the Morning Sun, resting beneath the starlight, waiting for the turning point of the war.