Chapter 12 Dedication Song

Xutel nodded, and followed the Messenger away.

The High Priest today was particularly grandiose, adorning his full set of regalia. A Ruby Divine Crown, a Sun Cape, a robe adorned with gold and silver symbols of the sun and the moon, Gold Feather Bracers, and Wolf Feather Shoes. In his hand was an additional Divine Artifact: the Feathered Divine Staff from the murals of the Sun God, with its shaft curving downward and ending in a golden serpent's head.

His pace was slow but resolute as he walked through the aisle parted by the "crop-haired samurai," approaching the dazzling and daunting "skull warriors."

Xiulote found the scene inexplicably familiar, reminiscent of certain games he used to be fervent about. He looked around, only to see that whether they were priests, nobility, or warriors, everyone held their breath and cast down their eyes, not daring to disturb nor directly witness this sacred moment.

The "skull warrior" Tizoc rose from his shoulder-litter, looking down from his elevated position and appearing unusually tall. He also unfurled his Sun Cape, then lifted the Sun God Scepter from his waist, touching it to the Divine Staff in the High Priest's hands, symbolizing the exchange between gods.

The two suns completed a set of elaborate and soundless rituals, akin to a mime show. Only then, amidst everyone's awe-stricken gaze, did they resume normal human interaction.

"The theocracy of the City-State era is somewhat like the Pharaoh regime from ancient times. Relying on the rule of mythology, once the mythology is broken, people will become directionless," pondered Xiulote.

The King and the High Priest's human interaction, however, was brief. The two exchanged a few words with stern expressions before nodding to one another.

Soon, Xutel gestured for him to come forward, and then Xiuxoke advanced, kneeling on one knee with his head bowed, allowing the King to grasp his hair. Xiulote had seen this scene in the murals before and surmised that it must signify an oath to dedicate one's life. Afterwards, the young man stole a glance at the King; through the slits in the bone helmet, intertwined tattoos obscured his face, but Xiulote sensed he was around forty to fifty years of age.

When it was Xiulote's turn, the ceremony was much simpler. The King merely gave the boy a cursory glance and nodded slightly. He then bestowed upon him a finely-crafted Obsidian Dagger, its hilt inlaid with exquisite turquoise. Conveniently, the boy slipped the dagger into his bosom, his previous one having been given away during a prisoner capture.

After meeting with relatives, the King summoned some of the Great Nobility and the priests in turn, performing some procedural rituals. Afterwards, the High Priest invited the King to enter the ancient city and enjoy the banquet together.

The banquet was the most lavish meal Xiulote had ever had. It started with hearty pottery bowls of corn, pumpkin, and beans, representing the three most important staple foods bestowed by the gods to mankind. However, this was more a formality, and at such an event, no one would partake of these.

Next was a bowl of blood-red cocoa beverage, mixed with chili, honey, and an array of spices, then colored to resemble fresh blood. This was a drink for warriors and nobility; it had to be consumed with a solemn and dignified demeanor.

After drinking, Xiulote's face completely changed color – the taste was a bizarre mix of bitter, spicy, sweet, and cocoa.

The food that followed was much more normal: boiled tomatoes, turkey, deer, cacti, papaya, avocado, and tequila infused with insects or chili, available for selection as desired.

Xiulote ate a bit then stopped, as did everyone else. His utensils were an Obsidian Dagger with a shallow indentation in the middle, which could cut meat and also serve as a spoon and fork, just careful not to cut his mouth. In such formal occasions, the wooden spoon Xiulote normally favored was not quite presentable.

After several rounds of drinks, the High Priest, Xutel, waved his hand, signaling for the dance to commence.

First, naturally, was the dance of sacrifice. Braziers were lit with smoking leaves and spices; the mystical fragrance wafted through the hall, inducing a trance-like state as if entering the Divine Kingdom. The priests, adorned with feather crowns and jeweled belts, step forward to dance and perform, singing an ancient and archaic chant:

"My heart is a flower,

It blossoms in an instant,

The king of night indeed,

Oh ya oh ya oh a ya.

"

"The Goddess returns from afar,

Our Earth Mother bestows,

All things upon me,

Oh ya oh ya oh a ya.

"

"I am the God of Maize, born in Heaven,

Amidst the blooming flowers.

That one flower unique in the world,

Yantala, yantala, a ya ya a.

"

"I am the God of Maize, born in the land of mist and rain,

The cradle of mankind.

The Mountain God's homeland,

Yantala, yantala, a ya ya a.

"

"Dawn arrives with a radiant sunrise.

With my colorful spoon,

I drink nectar from standing blooms,

Yantala, yantala, a ya ya a.

"

"Upon the Earth,

Walking through the bustling market,

I, the Feathered Serpent, Quetzalcoatl,

Am master of the world,

Yantala, yantala, a ya ya a.

"

The priests' song was deep and resonant, the rattling of their attire echoing through the air, an ancient charm fading with the wind. The King Tizoc was completely entranced, lightly nodding his head to the rhythm. After the song concluded, it took him a long while to come back to his senses. "High Priest, what is this divine chant? I've never heard it before," he said.

"Your Majesty, this is the Hymn of the Feathered Serpent," Xutel replied with a smile and a nod, "Over the years, the priests have been studying the murals of our ancestral city, finding many myths that differ from the ones passed down to us. This song speaks of the Feathered Serpent once being the ruler of the world."

Tizoc nodded, "After the banquet concludes, please, High Priest, tell me more about our ancestors' myths. We must always return to the Divine Kingdom."

Next was the Nobility Song. Some noble girls draped in lavish capes, wearing passionate tunics, and shaking gemstone bracelets, began to sing the joyous song of leisure of the nobility:

"I love the colors of the world,

the brilliant flowers and feathers.

In the season that moves your heart,

light up the intoxicating divine smoke.

"

"Dance with us,

let your bitterness flee,

adorn yourself with them,

the beautiful gold cocoa flowers.

"

"Then kiss beneath the blossoms,

share the joy of you and me,

singing beautifully here.

The cheerful songs of birds and parrots,

echoing beside the tinkling springs.

"

"You are like a cup of cocoa,

with it, my heart is filled with joy,

my heart is soaring,

my heart is soaring.

"

The girls' singing was melodious and cheerful, like larks in the sky. Their capes whirled, revealing their graceful figures, also with a hint of allure and temptation. As the passionate dance finally came to an end, sweat drenched their tunics. The girls then caught their breath, with dewy eyes, anticipating the king on stage.

Perhaps it was the fervent message hidden in the song, or perhaps it was the fragrance of the girls close at hand, Xiulote felt a rush of heat to his head and soon blushed.

The rest in front of the hall maintained their composure. Clearly, such singing and dancing were just a trivial scene for the nobles present.

Tizoc stroked his hand and lightly praised, "The song and dance are decent, not as grand as those in the capital city but has its own sense of purity."

Xutel nodded with a slight smile, "Does the king fancy the dancers in the song?"

Tizoc pondered for a moment, shook his head. His expression unchanged, "On the march, there's no hurry for the pleasures of singing."

The High Priest then waved his hand, signaling the beautiful girls to retire.

Lastly was the Warrior Dance. The city-state's most outstanding samurai entered the hall, led by Olosh, adorned with bright flowers, carrying ancient shields and wooden sticks without obsidian blades in them. When shield and stick collided, they sang the song of the warrior and the flower:

"The life of a warrior fades like a fleeting flower,

all glory shall pass away,

dazzling honors return to the earth.

Is there a most brilliant moment?

"

"Let flowers die in their bloom,

leaving behind unforgettable songs!

Let my heart be an offering to the land,

this mortal world is but fleeting~

"

The samurai's dance started with soothing calm, then resonated with metallic clangs, and finally, all returned to a solemn calm. Afterwards, the leader Olosh stepped forward, knelt on one knee before Tizoc, offering him a bouquet of flowers.

Tizoc merely nodded slightly, maintaining a godly aloofness, without saying a word.

Xutel gestured for the samurai to retreat as well. He then inquired, "What does the king think?"

"It's adequate," Tizoc simply stated, obviously not much interested in the samurai's performance.

"High Priest, since the entertainment has concluded," Tizoc leaned slightly, his tone bearing some anticipation, "let's discuss the myths of the ancestors in detail. Once this campaign is over, I can carve a new ritual plate beside the sun stone sacrificial plate in the temple, combining the myths with war."

"It would be my pleasure to serve you."

The lengthy banquet finally ended, bidding farewell to the spirited king. Everyone dispersed, and the family of three could finally gather together.

Looking around, Xiuxoke asked softly, "Father, did you specifically arrange the entertainment to see what the new king is like?"

"An exceptional Divine Descendant, a competent noble, a lacking commander-in-chief," Xutel pondered for a moment, the old wrinkles not overshadowing the sharpness in his eyes, "This campaign is likely to end in difficulty achieving victory, but it would only be a minor defeat!"

Xiulote seemed to understand something—it was a trial. In this era of frequent wars, with city-states standing side by side, everyone held their own opinions and judgments.

"In today's world, not only does a king choose his followers, but the followers also choose their king!" The youth couldn't help but softly exclaim in admiration. Looking at his grandfather's weathered face, he was wholeheartedly convinced!