The Sun sank soundlessly, and black shadows stole in. The side hall of the Feathered Serpent lay hidden deep within the Temple pyramid; lit torches swayed in the night wind from the vents. Firelight flickered unsteadily, the heavy brick and stone reflecting faint glimmers that outlined the many chiefs collapsed in the great hall, and the few slender figures still standing.
"Mm-hm! Truly, they can't hold their liquor. Just one cup of blood wine, and they've all gotten drunk!"
The statue of the Feathered Serpent cast a long shadow. The Snake Priestess Miawa did not stand within that shadow, but stood openly beneath the firelight. Her eyes moved fluidly as she looked around at the great chiefs in the hall, studying them one by one. The Feathered Serpent's side hall, which had just been boiling with noise, fell into dead silence in an instant. And the Captain of Warriors Qiyan was crouched beside Great Chief Chichini, carefully supporting his lord's back so he could lean seated on the ground.
Chichini lowered his head, resisting the violent dizziness. His face was numb, his eyelids as heavy as a thousand catties, yet by sheer will, he kept his eyes from closing. He had only drunk less than half a cup of blood wine, and had not taken much of the drug; though he could not stand and walk, he could still barely speak.
"...Qiyan, go! Let my personal guards in! Subdue every chief and tie them up tight!"
"Yes! My lord."
"Ugh! What... is... going on?"
Just then, a weak voice rang out with difficulty from the side, making both men pause. Chichini froze, then forced himself to lift his head and look over, meeting another pair of bewildered eyes. It was the burly, powerful chief of the Lake Sacrifice City Tribe,