City-State

The sky was high and the clouds thin, the plateau vast and boundless. After leaving the Huastec village, the party hurried south for several more days.

The rainforest had long vanished, replaced by sparse mountain forests. The sky became broad and clear, and signs of human habitation gradually grew denser along the road. The land became fertile and easy to cultivate, with roughly tilled fields spread along both banks of the river.

At noon that day, Xolotl spotted a small lake by a tributary of the Tampico River. In the middle of the lake lay a field that looked like a floating island.

Around the edge of the Floating Field stood a ring of supporting fences, half submerged beneath the water. At its center, neatly crisscrossing canals divided the floating island into even plots. The fields were densely planted with the three staple crops—corn, pumpkin, and beans—as well as chili, sunflower, and precious herbs.

"This is the first Chinampa on our journey home."

Seeing the fields in the lake, Olorosh finally smiled.

"We have finally returned to the lands of the Mexica city-states. Tonight, we can sleep soundly. The city-state of Metztitlan is not far ahead. Xolotl, you can take Tercer to the central market and buy a few little things you like."

Sure enough, not long after Xolotl continued onward, a Central American-style city appeared beside the river, suddenly filling his sight.

A ring of earth-and-stone walls, four or five meters high, counted as formidable defenses even in the medieval age. Dark-red patterns adorned the walls. Beyond them rose the Aztecs' distinctive Twin Pyramids, dozens of meters tall, jointly enshrining Tlaloc, the Rain God who governed agriculture, and Huitzilopochtli, the Guardian Deity.

It was still afternoon, and the city gates stood wide open as villagers began returning from the city. Most were bare-chested, with only long loincloths tied around their waists, carrying newly purchased stoneware and pottery. A very few clutched lengths of cotton cloth as long as a man to their chests and hurried away with great care.

The city-state's warriors wore everyday white or yellow vests, loincloths or leather skirts around their waists, small shields on their backs, and war clubs at their sides. They gathered in groups of three or five, discussing something unknown. Their voices drifted over on the wind, and Xolotl vaguely caught the words "legion," "war," and "Otomi People."

A little farther away, several nobles and priests sat comfortably in sedan chairs, dressed in magnificent garments as slaves carried them slowly closer. Commoners and warriors alike lowered their heads and stepped aside along the way.

Xolotl looked at their colorful cloaks and long feathered crowns, then at the flowers and herbs decorating the sedan chairs, and guessed that they had just returned from an outing in the nobles' botanical gardens.

He smiled. The Aztecs' social hierarchy really could be seen at a glance. In short, the more one wore, the higher one's status; the more splendid the colors, the greater the reverence received.

The party made camp outside the northern gate, and Olorosh left several warriors behind to guard the captives. Then the Jaguar Warrior exchanged a few words with the gate guards and led the group into the city. The warriors quickly scattered afterward, each off to find his own amusement.

The instant he entered, a gate guard glanced at the Obsidian necklace around Xolotl's neck and revealed a flicker of mingled surprise and reverence.

The first thing Xolotl saw upon entering the city was still the towering pyramid Temple. The Temple was the city's center; divine authority ruled the city-state, intertwined with the power of the nobility.

Below the temple lay the city-state's central plaza, covering more than a thousand square meters. During festivals, it served as a site of sacrifice; ordinarily, it was also a trading market. It reminded Xolotl of the farmers' markets in distant memories of his hometown.

Around the outer edges of the farmers' market stood the little stalls of villagers and townspeople, their goods a dazzling jumble. The farmers brought turkeys, dogs, rabbits, tortillas, black bean paste, pumpkins, chili, sunflower seeds, and last year's avocados.

The city's tokou sold all manner of everyday pottery, some also selling stone farming tools.

At one stall, Xolotl spent two cacao beans to buy a handful of sunflower seeds. He cracked them as he wandered around, with the young warrior Tercer trailing behind him and looking about just as curiously.

A turkey cost eighty cacao beans, while one tortilla cost about three. Black beans and pumpkins were roughly the same price. A pottery pot for boiling soup cost around a hundred cacao beans, making it an important household utensil for commoners.

After walking for a while, Xolotl saw a farmer stuff a turkey, several tortillas, and a messy heap of avocados and cactus tubers into a tokou's hands. Then he accepted a large clay jar and left happily. Farmers and tokou alike stood at the bottom of society and could not possibly possess enough cacao beans to use as currency. In truth, the overwhelming majority of market transactions were barter.

Farther inside were the craft artisans. Obsidian goods filled the stalls in dazzling array—warriors, animals, divine symbols, all sorts of little statues that made the boy's eyes swim.

Xolotl looked around, wanting to pick out a warrior statue for his father in this life. Yet after choosing for a long time and looking at all the archaic, "impressionistic" human faces, he always felt something was off. After thinking it over, he continued deeper into the market with Tercer.

Further inside, the farmers' market began to feel like a proper marketplace. Xolotl crossed a boundary guarded by several warriors and stared in surprise at the bustling inner market.

The warrior in the lead, wearing a pointed cap, had a cold, hard face. He first shot Xolotl a fierce glare, then was drawn to the Obsidian necklace around the boy's neck. His gaze lingered on it for a moment. Without saying anything, he turned back to watch the outside again.

The inner market gleamed with precious metals. The boy saw one simple or exquisite awning after another, each displaying ornaments of silver and gold.

Most of those moving through the streets wore colorful robes, gold, and silver: nobles. There were also priests wearing necklaces and long feathered crowns.

As Xolotl turned a street corner, he was startled to see Olorosh. The burly Jaguar Warrior stood before an exquisite cloth awning, contentedly exhaling clouds of smoke with a lit cigarette pinched between his fingers. The people around him wore equally satisfied expressions, sharing in that relaxing air.

The boy leaned closer for a careful look. The cigarettes were wrapped in leaves and filled with dried tobacco, mixed with unknown herbs and spices.

Then he turned to look at the shopkeeper, only to freeze in shock once more at a skull twice as long as his own! That skull curved "elegantly" backward from the forehead, extending into a long crown, topped with lofty feather ornaments and dangling silver decorations, as if an alien had descended upon the world.

Startled, Xolotl unconsciously stepped back. Only then did he see the shopkeeper's plump, prosperous face and the sincere smile that came from his heart.

"Ah! The gods bless us! Greetings, little priest of the city-state!"

The round-faced alien swept his gaze over Xolotl, quickly noting the Obsidian necklace around his neck, and smiled even more sincerely.

"As you can see, I have newly arrived Divine Smoke here! It comes from the sacred rainforest lands of the distant Eastern, the sigh of the gods left in the mortal world. With only one little cigarette, you can connect with the gods for a quarter of an hour and experience the wonders of the Divine Kingdom!"

As he spoke, the "alien" took out a palm-sized cloth pouch.

"As a gift for our first meeting, this bag of Divine Smoke will cost you only one small gold ornament, or cotton cloth two men long, or five hundred cacao beans!"

"Crafty Maya People!"

Before Xolotl could reply, "Jaguar" Olorosh let out his signature roar.

"I ought to use an Obsidian staff to smash your misshapen long head flat! This is my student, Xolotl, and you dare cheat him? Cotton cloth two men long is enough to buy five bags of cigarettes this poor!"

"Oh, Olorosh, so he is your student?"

The alien was neither afraid nor angry. He merely chuckled, calm and unhurried.

"Then let me introduce myself. I am Tikalo, a Maya merchant and a Pochteca specializing in long-distance trade, from the Tutul-Xiu city-state in the distant eastern rainforest. An elongated skull is the symbol of divinity. We Maya nobles are descendants of the gods, born with grace and kindness, and we are also the eternal friends of you Mexica People!"

"Damn it, call us Mexica People! Do not use that blanket term, Aztec!"

At that form of address, Olorosh sharply corrected him in displeasure. The Aztecs preferred to call themselves Mexica People—"those settled in the Valley of Mexica"—rather than "those from Aztlan."

"Fine! Then when will you repay the cotton cloth and cacao beans you owe me, honored Mexica Jaguar Warrior?"

At those words, the teacher beside the boy abruptly fell silent.

"By the way."

The Maya merchant Tikalo smiled, then winked at Xolotl.

"Right now, you need only five hundred cacao beans to buy five bags of exquisite cigarettes from me! Believe me, the priests all enjoy this flavor. You should give it a try!"

Xolotl was somewhat curious. What had the earliest Maya cigarettes tasted like? But Olorosh looked resolute and strongly objected.

"Xolotl, you are only twelve! If you try Divine Smoke too early, the gods will suck away your vitality. It will not help a warrior's body grow strong!"

Then the Jaguar Warrior practically tucked Xolotl half beneath his arm and carried him away from the Maya shop.

"Maya nobles are no good."

As they walked away, Olorosh grumbled and cursed, still burning with anger.

"Their minds are as crafty as monkeys, their bodies as weak as sloths, and they dress like mountain finches, yet every last one of them has a silver tongue and calculates numbers better than anyone! Before you know it, you owe them money. Face them on the battlefield, and I could take on ten of them by myself!"

Xolotl inexplicably wanted to laugh, yet did not dare let it out. He only looked back at the Maya merchant who stood head and shoulders above the crowd, his thoughts drifting far away.

In his previous life, he had traveled to Cancun, watched a so-called "Maya" performance in a large amusement park, and driven through the breathtaking ruins of the Chichen Itza Pyramids. Those few hours of flights and driving now seemed like an uncrossable gulf!

In this era, such a journey meant a full half-year of arduous rainforest travel by land, followed by treacherous canoe travel across stormy waters. Difficult transportation had made another visit to Chichen Itza almost a wish for his lifetime.

Then what splendor and beauty did the Maya states possess now? If the Alliance gained the Yucatan Peninsula, it could reach the tribal islands of the Caribbean and the distant Europeans' foothold sooner. Find the crisis while everything was still just beginning to sprout!

Xolotl's thoughts spread outward by habit, carrying a trace of gravity.

Perhaps when I return to Chichen Itza once more, I will no longer be alone!

The boy followed close behind the powerful Olorosh. Before him was the fierce, imposing jaguar-head helmet of the Jaguar Warriors; behind him towered the solemn Aztec pyramid.

For no reason he could name, a new longing for conquest slowly began to burn in the Mexica boy's chest. It was the heart of a warrior, yearning for the distant lands of battle.

"Mexica warriors will always be fearless, facing the known world with their own weapons! Meeting the unknown future with the resolve to fight! No matter who the enemy may be."