The Serpent Codices: The King and the Feathered Serpent

Chapter X — The City of Thunder (Part 2)

The City of Thunder was, in truth, remarkably beautiful—filled with flowers, gardens, and small streams winding between the buildings. Walking through it felt like wandering through an immense garden. When the people in the marketplace noticed the arrival of the newcomers, they stopped what they were doing and stared with curiosity. Some murmured that at last the God-King had come among them, while others seemed uneasy, fearing that his arrival might bring trouble to the city if they failed to defeat the impostor king. Many were wary, for they had already been deceived once before.

The city was vast—perhaps more than thirty thousand inhabitants lived behind its walls. Around the main avenue, which stretched half a kilometer into the city, smaller streets branched out vertically. Upon them rose majestic pyramids the same reddish hue as the lines that marked the roadway. There were also buildings with columns—structures resembling halls or palaces—equally red, though decorated with yellow or multicolored lines that gave them a singular beauty.

Some of these structures were temples; others were hospitals, schools, or great houses belonging to noble families. It was the first time many of those present had ever seen the Dajin, and for Elías it was his first encounter with a city of Aztlán.

To the right of the main causeway stood a field surrounded by tiers of seating, giving the impression of a small stadium. Along another street that crossed the avenue horizontally, there was a great market filled with handicrafts, fabrics, and flowers, crowded with people who watched them with interest as they passed.

At the end of the causeway, directly ahead, stood a beautiful garden rising upon an elevation of earth—a small hill. A narrow reddish stone path spiraled around it.

“Yarátu, Ikal, this is as far as your warriors and the people of Cot will come,” said Béelia. “I will order my men to place them north of the city, where the training fields and their citadel lie. They can camp there for now. The wounded will be treated and taken to the city’s hospitals.”

At once, though not entirely convinced, Itzmin led everyone toward the place his lady had indicated, separating them from the main group.

“We must continue the path,” the beautiful woman added, still mounted upon her enormous lizard.

They followed the reddish stone road that led to the summit of the elevation. It was not very high—perhaps thirty meters—but surrounded as it was by thick trees and tall pines, its true size was difficult to judge. As they climbed, they often had to ascend small steps. More than a hill, it seemed like a garden: along the path stood figures carved in stone, surrounded by multicolored flowers. There were even gardeners tending the grounds, who watched them in astonishment.

After several minutes they reached the summit of the small hill, only to discover more buildings hidden among the trees. They were temples and pyramid-shaped structures spread across a vast area. Unlike the lower part of the city, there were no crowds here. Everything seemed more private—reserved only for the most important. Numerous soldiers guarded the place.

One structure in particular drew the young man’s attention: a beautiful and majestic pyramid unlike all the others. Its architecture was different. Built of granite or finely carved stone, it rose in stepped tiers—seven levels narrowing toward the summit. It stood more than thirty meters tall and about twenty-five meters wide at the base. It was painted in vivid blues and reds and dotted all over with small square windows. In fact, it seemed to be made almost entirely of these niches.

“Perhaps it is one of the most beautiful cities in the empire,” Zazil remarked, unable to hide his wonder. “Though in the south there are majestic places as well.”

Standing before this pyramid were Zazil, Yarátu, Ikal, Elías, and Béelia.

“Welcome to the sacred district of the city!” exclaimed the Tlatoani. Swiftly, with the help of her giant lizard, she climbed to the top with surprising agility. “What are you waiting for? Come up! You’ll have to do it on foot!” she shouted from above.

Elías could hardly believe he would have to climb all those steps.

“Well, friends, let us go up,” said Yarátu, somewhat wary, fearing it might all be a trap. They dismounted from Mixtu’ with no other choice.

“Wait for us here, friend,” he whispered into the puma’s ear. The animal obeyed, lying down in the grass.

“Come on, young king! Up we go—don’t be lazy,” said Zazil, giving him a shove.

As they climbed, they noticed that the city was indeed enclosed by the wall in a semicircle. In the north, the wall joined with a great mountain, forming a perfect natural barrier.

After several minutes of climbing, they finally reached the top. There they found only the giant lizard. From that height they could appreciate the true scale of the city: the sacred district lay at the center of the Dajin, and from there the city stretched in every direction. All were amazed—except Yarátu, who already knew it well.

“But where has that woman gone?” Zazil exclaimed irritably.

“Calm yourself. She probably went into the pyramid,” Yarátu replied, approaching a set of pillars that marked the entrance to descending stairs.

“More steps?” Zazil groaned wearily. “This cannot be true!”

Now it was the young king’s turn for revenge. He shoved Zazil toward the entrance.

“Don’t be lazy, Zazil. Let’s go,” he said with a laugh, provoking laughter from Yarátu and Ikal.

“Don’t laugh! It’s not funny!” Zazil grumbled. “We climbed all the way up just to go back down again!”

With no remedy, the four friends descended the narrow spiral stone staircase, dimly lit by small torches. After a long descent they reached what seemed to be the base.

Before them stretched a wider tunnel, also lit by torches. About fifty meters away they could see a large wooden door.

“She must be there,” Ikal remarked.

“I remember this place,” Yarátu said nostalgically. “My father once brought me here.”

The four friends walked slowly toward the door, studying in the flickering torchlight the strange engravings carved into the walls: glyphs and humanoid figures everywhere. At last they reached the door, which stood slightly ajar. Zazil, who walked at the front, pushed it open with some apprehension.

“Come in, do not fear!” Béelia’s voice called from within.

Beyond the door lay a great hall. In the center stood a rectangular stone table laden with exquisite dishes and drinks. Béelia was already seated there, now wearing a magnificent multicolored feathered headdress—the crown of the realm. Zazil, hungry, sat down without a second thought, followed by the others. The table held fish, meats, fruits, and exotic stews. There was also pulque, the traditional drink of Aztlán.

The young king looked around. To his right, a vast mural depicted a detailed map of Aztlán. Unlike the one he had seen in the camp, this one showed settlements and names from the northern empire he had never heard before.

At that moment Itzmin entered and took a seat as well. He was an experienced warrior skilled with spears and stone knives. His skin was dark, his black hair cut very short, his voice deep and his gaze steady. Elías thought he looked like a brave and trustworthy man.

“Before anything else,” Béelia said, breaking the silence, “I would like to know the exact reason you have come to the City of Thunder.”

“That question offends me, Béelia,” Yarátu replied, somewhat irritated. “I imagine your lackeys have already told you about the attack we suffered—and more importantly, that sitting at this table is the true God-King.”

“I know,” she nodded, looking at the young man. “But I mean your plans. Do you intend to attack King Alarii?”

“He is not King Alarii!” Ikal snapped angrily. “The true one is here. Call him what he is—an impostor.”

“You know well why I cannot trust only what this boy says. Though I admit there is something special about him. But we will discuss that later,” said Béelia. “If you truly believe he is the reincarnation of Quetzalcóatl, then what concerns me is the size of the impostor’s army…”

“We are so certain that we need you to join us!” Ikal interrupted. “If we send secret messengers and recruit warriors from the south, they will rally to us. You know well that, though they swear loyalty, they despise him in silence.”

“It’s true, Béelia,” Yarátu added. “This time we have a chance. Some Tlatoanis of the south are against him. They remain loyal only out of convenience.”

“They are few,” she replied thoughtfully. “Most still believe he is the true God-King. Kingdoms such as Toniná, Mutul, and Zamá place their armies at his service. His sentinels control the southern routes.”

“So you will turn your back on us again, as you did years ago when we needed you most?” Yarátu accused.

“You know there was no other choice. The war was lost. My hope was that one day my eyes would see the true God-King—and then I would join him. I could not allow the impostor to destroy this city. The Otoneco people had already suffered too much. We built this wall to endure… to wait for the true king and turn this city into a bastion.”

“Does that mean we have the support of the Army of Thunder?” Ikal asked.

Béelia nodded.

“But my lady… we are placing thousands of citizens in danger,” Itzmin objected anxiously. “If the king decides to destroy us, he will stop at nothing. How can we be sure this young man is the true king? We have been deceived before.”

“Watch your words!” Zazil roared, drawing his sword and pointing it at Itzmin’s throat. “You stand before the true God-King and owe him respect! He has already saved us once—you would not want to face his power. I witnessed it myself.”

“Besides, Itzmin,” Ikal added, “you also felt your strength change in the past few days, didn’t you?”

“Enough! We must not fight among ourselves,” Béelia intervened. Zazil lowered his weapon and sat again.

The woman turned to Elías.

“Do you know who the false king truly is? How did he obtain the bracelet?”

Elías was silent for a moment. Then he spoke thoughtfully.

“I have a friend who, a few days ago, managed to enter this world with the help of my bracelet. We were attacked by masked men, and he—without meaning to—was transported here… but I do not understand how the king could have the bracelet. They say he arrived a hundred years ago. My friend is my age. It cannot be him…”

“What is this friend’s name?” Béelia asked.

“His name is… David,” he said hesitantly.

The Tlatoani’s face filled with astonishment. She stood and began pacing.

“What surprised you?” Yarátu asked uneasily.

“When the impostor arrived, many years ago, he said his name was David. That was the name they called him in his land. He asked about a friend… and said men wearing feline masks were pursuing him.”

“That’s impossible!” Elías exclaimed. “He cannot be… I mean, he could not have caused all this…”

But he stopped. Something inside him told him it was true.

“Perhaps when he used the bracelet without being the chosen one, he ended up in another time. The gods command time. The bracelet’s magic is powerful—and dangerous,” Béelia suggested.

“It’s true,” Yarátu agreed. “If it was not worn by the true God-King, the bracelet may have thrown him out of his own time. My father said the ancient kings could travel through time with magical objects given by the gods. There is no other explanation.”

“Wait!” Elías cried, rising to his feet and staring at the great map. “I cannot believe David… If this is all true, there must be another explanation. He would not do this. Not to me.”

“I don’t know,” Béelia replied softly. “When I met him, he was young—just like you. He was desperately searching for his friend. He spoke about the men with masks.”

“My king, you also spoke of them,” Zazil reminded him.

“Yes. They wore masks shaped like felines… and they were searching for the bracelet. But now that I think about it, it seemed like they were waiting for us. Everything felt too strange.”

“There is no one in the empire who wears masks like that,” Béelia murmured.

Just then two soldiers burst in.

“My lady! A hummingbird messenger has arrived!” one announced.

“A hummingbird? How strange… we have not received one in a long time.”

“It must be Solvit. He knew we would come,” said Zazil.

The Tlatoani took the message and handed it to Yarátu. As he read it, his face grew grave.

“It cannot be! A large part of the king’s army is marching here. He himself leads it… and he has ordered the city destroyed if necessary. He wants Elías’s head!”

“That was to be expected,” Ikal muttered, striking the table.

“I told you!” Itzmin cried anxiously. “King Alarii will come with everything he has!”

“Do not fear, my friend,” Béelia replied, turning her gaze toward Elías. “This time we will fight with all our strength. That is what we have prepared for. And besides—the true God-King stands with us. Gather all the soldiers before the Pyramid of the Niches. We must tell them the news and prepare.”

“And please stop calling him King Alarii,” Ikal added sharply. “He is an impostor. Your king is here.”

Itzmin looked at the young man, bowed deeply, and hurried out of the hall.

Elías remained in shock. He could not accept that David might be capable of this. Perhaps he was no longer his friend… perhaps he had changed. How could someone so close to him want him dead?

“I think you will finally meet him again and we will learn the truth,” Ikal said quietly, seeing his expression.

“You should eat something. The table is still set, and time has flown by,” Béelia said.

Two hours later thousands of soldiers had gathered in the main plaza before the Pyramid of the Niches, while many more filled the surrounding streets. Yarátu, Ikal, Zazil, Béelia, and the young king climbed again to the top of the pyramid. From there they beheld the vast army assembled.

“It is incredible,” the boy exclaimed in awe.

“Indeed it is,” Yarátu replied, “but even so, the false king’s army surpasses us in strength and number.”

Then Tlatoani Béelia stepped forward and addressed her people in a firm voice.

“Today is a moment of great joy for our city and for this great empire!” she cried. After a pause she continued: “For years we wondered if the true God-King would ever come! We were silenced, humiliated, and massacred by the one who called himself king and usurped the throne of Aztlán! But we endured and waited! We isolated ourselves behind these walls! And now I tell you, my friends: here, beside me, stands the true God-King of Aztlán!”

The warriors erupted in jubilant cheers, praising their leader and the young king with fervor. Elías watched nervously, thinking he might have to speak as well. He felt that if he opened his mouth, he might faint.

“Do not fear!” Yarátu shouted. “The impostor believes we are inferior—but we have conviction, courage, and heart to win! We will not allow this city to fall as those of the south did! Here we will prove to him that he may have won many battles—but he will never win the war… not now that the true God-King stands with us!”

Once again the crowd answered with thunderous cheers that sent a shiver down Elías’s spine.

“How far?” Yarátu shouted, raising his spear.

“To the end!” roared the resistance in unison—their call to war.

That night the queen ordered the soldiers to return to their homes and spend time with their families. Great bonfires were lit across the city. Some people danced, others sang and celebrated. From the top of the pyramid, Elías watched the scene with a mixture of nostalgia and worry, knowing many of them might die in the coming battle.

Then his friend Ikal approached him.

“The city looks beautiful lit like this, doesn’t it?”

“Yes,” he answered softly, his gaze distant.

“What were you thinking about?”

“I’m not sure I have the strength to fight my…—” he paused, correcting himself. “—to fight the impostor. I’m afraid of failing my destiny, of disappointing all these people. And if it really is my friend… I don’t know what I will do when I face him.”

“That will not happen, young king,” Ikal assured him. “You have our support, and you will never be alone. You must trust yourself. You are the Feathered Serpent. You must face him without fear. Once, a very wise woman told me that envy, resentment, and the thirst for power reveal the true face of friendship. Whoever finds a faithful friend who withstands all that… finds a treasure. And you can be certain that we are that friend.”

Elías smiled at those words. He said nothing more. He simply gazed at the sky beside Ikal. On that moonless night, the stars shone brighter than ever…

… "