-10-Calli-

What else could I do except wait this through? Just count the days until the next family of days and hope this mess all blows over.

Please blow over. All this pestering is starting to get old.

"Aren't you excited, Yolotzin?" Hyats'i asked me with that stupid goofy smile he always seemed to wear on his face, bumping my shoulder to emphasize his point, leaning over to my left so his face would invade my personal space, forcing me to grimace at the proximity.

"And what am I supposed to be excited over, exactly?"

We stood together, beginning the tedious task of removing bark from the trees and harvesting fire wood. I would peel the bark off with my trusty long blade while Hyats'i would use a heavy axe to hack at trees. His wide grin stretched even wider and a childish lilt remained in his tone despite his boisterousness. I should know better, by now, not to feed that childlike wonder and enthusiasm.

"You know, the whole apprenticeship in the capital! Aren't you happy?"

“Yes, I'm elated." I dryly retorted, tossing the newly stripped bark into my pile. Hyats'i snorted loudly, the idiot nearly hitting his own thumb with his axe in the process, the dull and eroded copper head gleamed in the sun's glare as he swung it far above his head, repeatedly slamming it into the trunk of the tree before him. The methodical beating noise,

thwack,

thwack,

thwack, resounding deep within the forest's open air. I narrowed my eyes at him, wiping at the sweat stinging my eyes as I watched his tensed back flex at the simple task he set upon himself. 

"You know, if you leave, you're going to be leaving all this behind." He snorted derisively at me as he stopped hacking away simply to gesture to the surrounding trees with his axe. 

”Do you really want to live the rest of your life in the capital surrounded by nobles? Sounds tiresome."

“Tell me about it.” 

"Then again, that would mean that you would have to get used to having a stick up your butt." Hyats'i laughed and pointed at my grimacing face with a knowing grin. I couldn't help myself, I tossed another bark in his pile with my foot and gave him a snort of my own. He had one of those ridiculous laughs that just didn't want to die. His cheeks were bright and pink, and when he smiled I couldn't help but think that I wanted to laugh at it too.

He's ridiculous.

"Yes, a stick up my ass would be such an improvement on my person."

"You would be unrecognizable!" He guffawed loudly. My heart squeezed tightly. How could someone who I had come across just once become the friend I have relied so heavily on over the years? He is too simple and stupid to be able to grasp the idea of fate. Yet the moment I met his eyes it was like seeing an old face, someone you had known for so long they are your home. He was that kind. He would always come back and bother me even when he didn’t have a reason to, it has just come to be that the both of us just grew comfortable in each other’s company.

He laughed uproariously, clutching onto his sides and wiping tears from his eyes. Then, without missing a beat he shot me another impish grin. He took the opportunity to tackle me again, wrapping his arms around my body and giving me a fierce hug. Had he caught me off guard  one second too late I would’ve hacked at him too but alas, he managed to hold on to me for an agonizing moment. He clung tightly to my waist and I felt my body start to ache from the weight. My breath left my body and I could not bear the fact that I could hear his heartbeat pounding in unison with my own. 

He knew better but he was still my friend. That was his answer to everything I said. 

"You have to admit, this is the perfect opportunity." His eyes sparkled excitedly as he spoke, voice low as though he had a deep secret that he could not keep. His bright face leaned close to mine, a sly grin slowly appearing upon those rough, chapped lips. I gave him an expectant look, turning my body slightly so I could face him better, giving him my full attention.

"And I'll follow along and live with you!" Hyats'i said cheerfully. "And we can be friends forever."

"I think not. I'm not too fond of being tied to an idiot for the rest of my life, thanks." I teased and flicked my thumbnail against his brow, only for the older boy to gently pinch the bridge of his nose.

"This oaf is going to drag you down to Tenochtitlan either way so you're going to have to suck it up and deal with him."

“I'm not going, Hyats'i.” I rolled my eyes and turned away to get back on with my work, however it proved futile when his broad and wide frame blocked my way and attempted to grab my long blade with his bare hands. Obviously, I stop what I’m doing, quickly swatting his arms away. 

“Ow!”

“Hyats’i, you’re just so…” I grunted, blowing a strand of hair away from my face. How do you even describe something so…him? A good-hearted idiot that I just can’t help but allow to put my trust into. I shook my head and tilted my chin down slightly, glaring at him from underneath my thick brows. 

It doesn’t work, no surprise there. In fact it only made the guy cover his mouth in amusement. I could tell he was holding back his laughter, even with his back turned to me, could picture his expression so clearly.

“Just so…me?” The damn guy questioned. The sun shone brightly against his face, almost blinding me as he adjusted his position on the dry soil, revealing his profile. The bastard always manages to annoy the shit out of me! It’s his talent it seems.

”Why won’t you go?” He finally asks after an excruciating pause. “Always working out in these hills, running around this mountainside village carrying loads of goods twice your size. What’s holding you back?”

I shrugged him off, because how the hell do you answer that? He thinks I should go, that much was obvious. With those pleading and expecting eyes, practically itching to dig out every word of my answer. But, if even he thinks it’s a good idea, surely that means something? 

I sighed, letting my hands rest on my thighs. My fingers unconsciously flexed and unflexed, itching for something to occupy me. Anything but this. More pestering, and this time from Hyats’i himself. The person I least expected to bring it up. 

No.

The person I hoped wouldn’t bring it up. This is ridiculous. Just a speckle of gold that got into his eyes. That’s all. Him and the other villagers, lost in the allure of precious metals and status. When would this end? The heavy silence was clear. Hyats’i wanted an answer and no one was as open as he was. As understanding. He would definitely stop bringing it up when I tell him and we can get back to work like usual. Then maybe this sinking feeling in my stomach would finally go away and I wouldn’t have to avoid the plaza anymore. Nothing would matter—no one’s words would matter because I had Hyats’i on my side.

Everything would go back to normal.

The older boy shifted in place on the dirt beneath his toes, toying around with the knot that kept his netted tilmatli held in place over his left shoulder. The damn thing should barely even be considered a tilmahtli, its more net than cloth and wouldn’t protect him from the sun’s harsh rays. When I asked him why he even wore it out he gifted me with one of his usual goofy grins. Something too innocent. So carefree in comparison to all of my recent worries.

‘For when I run out of nets.’ Is all that damned fool replied. It was silly. More of a ridiculous excuse to wear the pitiful thing he called a cape. Made me want to shove him back into his home and pick out another. Preferably, one without holes in it?

Ah, but he does like it though.

”Yolotzin.” He murmured, taking a few hesitant steps towards me before collapsing next to me with his back propped up by a nearby tree trunk. Close enough for me to feel the warmth of his arm. Tangible but not nearly close enough to actually touch him.

"The allures of riches and colorful capes mean nothing to me.” I quickly told him with a huff, pretending to find a cloud above us more interesting than our current conversation. 

“Think of it as a paid vacation!” Hyats’i beamed.

”You idiot, I’m getting bought and sold like some dog. I won’t get to enjoy a single thing!” I hissed in disbelief. My fingers dug painfully into the dirt, clenching a large clump of it, grinding it down into loose dirt. The grains lodged painfully underneath my finger nails. When Hyats’i reached out to grab my hand I yanked my fist away, instead of accepting his gesture. In fact, I only shifted further away. Yet his face showed nothing.

Shouldn’t he be upset? Angry? He simply stared at me, for once, quiet and serious. Observing. Reading me like he always does. An almost longing look, a fond one, eyes cast towards the ground, waiting. Patient as always.

”All I’m saying is that…Well, you’ve only seen fourteen summers. You shouldn't have to provide so much already.” He continued after a while, his gaze lifting to meet my own. The older boy’s fingers nudged against mine, this time, more softly than the last. 

And this time, I let him. 

Not like I had a choice. His grip had always been almost bone shattering, it didn’t especially help that his palms were more calloused and rough than I'd like to admit.

“Can we get back to work? At this rate, we’ll finish by the New Fire Ceremony.” I groaned in response, lashing out with my spare hand and pulling at his cheek, giving it a light smack.

“By the next century? We’re not that slow, are we?” He guffawed, a dopey grin spreading across his face. He let go of my hand to push me, knocking me from my spot on the dirt ground. As I landed harshly, ants scampered across the floor, diving into crevices and fallen tree trunks for safety. In turn I shot him the nastiest glare I could muster, yet by the time I managed to sit back up, that damn bastard was already hacking away at a nearby trunk. No doubt, trying to play as if nothing happened.

That bastard better sleep with his eyes open.

Shaking some ants off my wrist, I forced myself back onto my feet, spinning the long blade in my hand to have it fully situated in my palm. With a grunt, I swung my tool down and slashed fiercely at the bark before my eyes, tearing off large strips and then proceeding to add them into the pile I was collecting for some of the paper making workshops. Another side gig of mine. And although harvesting bark was more time consuming and way more physically demanding, I think I prefer it over being a runner.

The rhythmic motion, the slicing, the movement and flow it put through my muscles—it was relaxing. Not to mention no human interactions. Well, with the occasional farmer or merchant passing by, but I’d usually finish up before we’d get to cross paths.

But other than them, and I suppose me, no one had any business being here so far from the village. From the moment we learn to walk, our elders recount stories to us about the dangers of straying away from the designated paths. How not too long ago, a villager or two going missing wasn’t out of the ordinary. Not ideal, but definitely not underheard of. 

They say that it was man eating beasts that took them. Or the shapeshifting sorcerers who roam these parts and lure the ignorant astray, stealing away their tonalli—life force, to fuel their spells and magic. 

Although that was way before my time, I do remember a story one of my fellow hunters had told us as we carefully tracked some rabbits. It was before dawn, our eyes still drowsy with sleep and our torches lit just enough to see what was in front and beside you. Perhaps it was the man’s idea of teasing us, but, the man whispered it in low murmurs, pausing in between every word or so for dramatic flair. He obnoxiously cackled when some of us reacted. 

He told us the story of his great grandfather and of the village before the barrier just like every elder did. Unlike the rehearsed precautionary tales they’d recite though, he went into much more detail. 

It was an early morning during the cold months, the sun had yet to rise then too. When it gets that cold, the crops didn’t do as good, the river froze and everything started to wither and die. No one went out in the chilling breezes of the evening and early mornings, not unless absolutely necessary. 

It was on one of those occasions that, supposedly, some foolish hunters had strayed off course, the trail lost underneath the newly fallen snow. And interesting enough, so did a boy of 10 summers. The son of a humble farmer, he and his father were already up at those hours, tending to the bean plots in hopes that, if they got a head start on them, that they would miraculously fare. But farm work never caught the kid’s attention, no matter how much his father would insist that it was necessary and that it was his duty as a son to continue what his ancestors started. So, when the boy’s father turned away to collect something from his pouch that morning, the brat seized the moment to wander off. There, he caught the sight of a jerky wild turkey, squawking for its unattentive kin as its feather ruffled in the breeze. It was small and looked thin. So very easy to capture and bring home to show his father! Then he’d prove himself to him. Prove that perhaps he wasn’t meant for boring life on the field and the responsibility of following in his ancestor's footsteps. So off he chased after the bird with reckless abandon, slipping into an area which he believed would lead him straight to that tasty turkey. 

It wasn’t a turkey.