A warm January wind blew over the tropical shore of the Gulf of Mexico, bringing dampness and heat. The sea breeze went west, following the Owl River for seventy or eighty li, and arrived at the southern ancestral land of the Huastec—the prosperous riverside city-state, Crow City Papantla.
Several gray crows wheeled at the edge of the sky, looking down on the familiar stockade, villages, and Temple below, as well as seven strange, long, slender ships. Over a hundred bare-chested Huastec craftsmen were gathered around the longships, holding blackened clay jars in their hands, heads lowered as they busied themselves with something.
A moment later, one crow curiously lowered its altitude and perched on the top of a longship's mast. Then it stared with its round eyes, turned slightly, and let out a smug cry at the black Wolf Banner flying from the mast.
"Caw! Caw-caw!"
"Hm?"
Hearing the cry, the old Militia Chiwako raised his head and saw the crow standing on the mast, smug as could be. The old Militia's face immediately blossomed into a smile.
"A crow has landed, cawing clear and bright! Good! A rare auspicious omen!"
Er, that was right—this truly was an auspicious omen! In Mesoamerica at this time, crows often descended during sacrificial rituals. They were like envoys who came down from Sky Family after prayers to the gods, carrying mysterious and unfathomable divinity. Likewise, they would appear when an old person was near death, like envoys of the Death God, guiding the departed soul. Therefore, among the various peoples of Mesoamerica who revered death, crows were indeed birds of good fortune.
"Damn it! These scorching coastal lowlands are a whole lot hotter than the highlands upstream on the Owl River!"
Puapu wore a wooden eagle helm, lifted his head to glance at