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    eaureka

    ☆quiet follow Send AirSkeb request Yell with Emoji 💖 👍 🎉 😍
    POIPOI 29

    eaureka

    ☆quiet follow

    (Tez--->Day)

    A fic for my birthday and Daybit's birth month. I write TezDay once in a blue moon.

    Cracking Pots, Raining SweetsUnder the shadow of two trees and thick shrubs, Tezcatlipoca stood and watched from afar.

    The house he was watching was crowded with a group of Ocelomeh. Both men and women wore clothes and headdress of many colors; the women in particular looked gorgeous with their layered skirts and jewelries. Another group of men appeared from the left. They carried a wooden pillar with a bar poking horizontally at one end to be installed in the middle of the house’s garden. A rope dangled from the bar with which a clay pot decorated in shiny stones and feathers was hanging.

    As soon as the men finished installing the pillar, the women called to the children who were still inside the house to come out. The sound of little feet rushing out to the garden and cheerful chattering filled the air as the kids enthusiastically gathered around the pillar. But, what captured Tezcatlipoca’s attention the most was a single boy who left the house last. He was blindfolded and led by his mother to the center of the garden, where the other adults and children formed a big circle around the pillar. Another kid, presumably his older brother, handed him a wooden club and spun the kid gently a few times before gingerly backing away. The crowd clapped their hands and sang, and the blindfolded kid moved forward to try hitting the pot with his club.

    Tezcatlipoca had never seen the Ocelomeh holding an event like this. More like, if it was a celebration, it was something entirely different from what he had taught them. As he watched the birthday boy stumbled left and right, his interest grew bigger.

    “Big Brother.”

    The almighty god reluctantly pried his gaze from the crowd. He was so absorbed in his observation he didn’t notice Tenochtitlan’s presence. “Why, Hummingbird. Fancy seeing you here,” he greeted her.

    “Izcalli had an urgent matter that he wanted to discuss with you. He sought every corner of the city it’s painful to watch even for me, so I did him a favor of scouting,” she explained.

    “Didn’t he just has another discussion yesterday… Nevermind, I’ll check on him later. You didn’t have to go this far to find me, though, but since you’ve gone through all the trouble…” The god gestured at the direction of the house to his little sister. “I want you to take a look at that.”

    The great city personified walked closer to where Tezcatlipoca was standing and fixed her gaze forward.

    In the garden, the birthday boy was still trying to hit the pot. He waved his club in the air like feeling the wall in total darkness to find a candle, trying to sense the direction of the pot. At one time, the tip of his club touched the pot and he immediately swung his club forward. But, his swing wasn’t hard enough, which resulted in the pot being merely pushed to the other direction. As if trying to smash it blind wasn’t hard enough, the other children would deliberately moved the pot away from the kid for extra challenge and mischief. Meanwhile, the adults started to increase the pace of their singing and clapping. The longer the kid failed to hit the pot, the faster the song became.

    Tenochtitlan frowned at the cacophony before her. “Isn’t that…”

    Tezcatlipoca glanced at her. “You know something about that party.”

    “The way they decorate the pot and hang it from a pole… How the kid must break the pot while being blindfolded… I can’t shake the feeling that it bears resemblance to that ritual. The ritual to honor the birth of ‘Hummingbird-Left’, Huitzilopochtli.” Tenochtitlan gritted her teeth. “I may have only inherited the great god of warfare’s power and divinity, but I could trace the memory of our people that’s been imprinted in me. I could recall one ritual… where the priest leading the ceremony was also blindfolded and must break the hanging pot. There were offerings inside the pot, and by breaking it, the offerings would land on the feet of Huitzilopochtli statue.”

    “Correct. It does have some similarities to the celebration of Huitzilopochtli’s birth, and yet here the Ocelomeh family use the same rite to celebrate their kid’s birthday instead. Hm”

    Tezcatlipoca looked up. Dark clouds began to gather and slowly moved toward the Ocelomeh’s village. He saw Tenochtitlan’s face darkened, stretching the whip with both of her hands.

    “That means…,” she growled. “They stray from the teaching of the gods and insult the ritual. Big Brother, can I punish them”

    Tezcatlipoca promptly gripped his sister’s shoulder. “Calm down, Hummingbird. Let’s observe them a bit more, then we can decide if what they do is blasphemous.”

    A loud, unison scream came from the crowd. After several failed attempts, the birthday kid finally hit the pot with his last remaining strength. A hole appeared at the bottom of the pot where the club landed, and rain of confetti and candies poured on the kid. He threw away his blindfold and club and scooped as many candies as his tiny arms could hold. The other kids also didn’t waste their time to gawk at the scene and soon followed suit in pursue of the remaining candies.

    Tenochtitlan gritted her teeth, he shoulders tense. “Forgive my impudence, but why did you stop me from striking them They’re tainting the sanctity of the ritual”

    “Do you remember the first day we took the Ocelomeh to Mexico City” asked Tezcatlipoca.

    The goddess frowned at the sudden question. “Yes. I remember when they only knew how to scrape the forest floor for food and run away from the deinos.”

    Tezcatlipoca nodded. “From the beginning, they almost had no chance to survive living side by side with the apex being of this land – Malla had her bias, you see. We took them in, teaching them our cosmology, life, principles, language. We taught them how to weave, cultivate the land, and handle weapons. They slowly learned to build a proper civilization under our tutelage and, apparently, they also began to understand the meaning of their lives. What’s in front of us is part of that process: finding and celebrating one special day when a new life is born into this world. A ‘birthday party’ in modern human language.”

    “Our people also celebrated their children’s birthday, but they did it by visiting temples and paying respect to the gods,” Tenochtitlan argued. “They had a feast, but the feast was to honor the god. One can’t separate their day of birth from the respective deity that governed the date. That’s how it’s always been for us. Holding a party out of personal desires didn’t sit right with me.”

    “I’m curious about that, too.” Tezcatlipoca spun the end of his hair lock on his finger. Thinking made him wanted to smoke, but he didn’t want the Ocelomeh to notice his presence.

    As he watched the children retreated into the house with their spoils, followed by the adults, he suddenly recalled another thing he has studied from modern civilization. Over the course of centuries, he saw ancient rites being assimilated into the practices of the new faith. In doing so, the people became more willing to embrace the new faith as the new faith acknowledged the significance of past traditions. The concept of ‘birthday’ also underwent this transformation, even going as far as separating itself from the spiritual connection behind the celebration. The birthday celebration he just witnessed felt…very modern.

    Something clicked inside his head. He could guess who taught this concept to the Ocelomeh.

    “Big Brother” Tenochtitlan asked. The dark clouds over her head had dissipated now that she calmed down.

    The Lord of the Night Wind chuckled. Of course it had to be him, he thought.

    He turned to Tenochtitlan and asked, “Hummingbird, have you ever heard about ‘piñatas’”

    The goddess answered, “No. In fact, this is the first time I heard about it. Is that another modern invention”

    “You could call it that way. You see,…”

    ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    [MICTLANPA, AFTER THE PURGE OF NAHUI MICTLAN]

    “Where are you taking me”

    “You’ve been asking me for Great Teotl knows how many times now. Just follow my lead and try not to trip on your feet.”

    Amidst the misty plain of the land of the dead, Tezcatlipoca brought Daybit to an open area with a hut and a garden in front of it. There was a pole with a rope attached to its bar in the middle of the garden, and dangling from the rope was a large paper piñata. As an added element of delight courtesy of the god of conflict himself, the piñata was in the shape of an angel. A vague, non-descript angel with a white conical body, a round head without eyes and mouth, and a pair of cardboard cutout wings. The god wasn’t too keen on giving details for the paper angel. Thought it would only stroke the damned creatures’ ego and he wasn’t going to stoop that low to acknowledge their presence, moreover their influence over his warrior.

    Besides, today was a special day for Daybit.

    “Almost there,” said Tezcatlipoca while holding Daybit’s hand to bring him closer to the pole.

    The younger man grumbled and tried to loosen the blindfold by shaking his head. “If you give me another lame surprise, I will start to doubt your credibility as an almighty god.”

    Tezcatlipoca groaned. “Just… walk. Please.”

    Right in front of the pole, the blonde-haired man told Daybit to stand on the spot where the piñata was hanging one step away from them. He lifted the younger man’s right hand and slipped a wooden club in his grasp, then walked behind him.

    Daybit’s fingers gingerly moved along the length of the club. “A club and a blindfold. Is this a piñata party”

    Tezcatlipoca whistled. “You catch on quick. Well then, there’s no need for me to hide it anymore.”

    Daybit weighted the club on one hand, then practiced a few light swing. “It’s not something I’m unfamiliar with,” he said. “Piñata is a common thing for children’s birthday party in my place. The parents fill a large cartoon figure made of paper with candies, then hang it on the ceiling for the birthday kid to hit with a bat. Other guests will clap their hand and sing the piñata song while the kid tries to hit the piñata blind. The game ends when either the piñata is broken or the kid fails to hit it at the end of the song.”

    Tezcatlipoca clapped his hands. “Yes, and I do have a piñata for you to smash with that club.”

    “What are we celebrating, though” asked Daybit.

    “I’ll tell you when you can crack the piñata in front of you. But, it won’t be a game without a little challenge.”

    He grabbed Daybit’s shoulders and spun the younger man two, three times. Then, he moved behind the piñata and shouted, “Mictlanpa piñata party starts…now”

    Daybit rushed as soon as he gained his footing and swung his club forward, but Tezcatlipoca pushed the piñata to the right and backed away swiftly to avoid the club. The piñata swayed back to the center, carried by its momentum, and bumped into Daybit’s head. Daybit turned around and threw another blow, only for the tip of his club to graze the piñata’s surface, pushing it to the other way. As the younger man fought the paper statue, Tezcatlipoca clapped and sang.

    “Dale, dale, dale No pierdas el tino Porque si lo pierdes Pierdes el camino”

    One time, two times. The paper statue danced around following the beat of the song, gracefully avoiding Daybit’s every attempt to hit it. The younger man grunted and swung again, but he was only hitting thin air. The god laughed, prompting Daybit to realize that he faced the wrong way.

    “Ya le diste una Ya le diste dos”

    The song entered the phase where the tempo became faster. Tezcatlipoca watched Daybit going back to the center and swung again, this time harder than usual. His frustration was visible in the way he gritted his teeth, but the god knew too well the man wasn’t a quitter. Even in his paradise where he supposed to relax, Daybit seemed to still abhor idleness and would sometimes wander around until he reached the edge of the land much to Tezcatlipoca’s dismay. But, that part of Daybit was also what made him irreplaceable to Tezcatlipoca. A warrior worthy of his protection.

    “Ya le diste tres Y tu tiempo se acabó”

    And along with the last note, Daybit’s swing finally connected with the piñata. A hole appeared from where the tip of the club broke the paper angel’s body, pouring rain of colourful papers and candies from its cavity.

    “Whoo You did it, Brother” exclaimed Tezcatlipoca. He approached Daybit, who had taken off his blindfold and was now staring at the broken angel figure, and wrapped one hand around his shoulders. “How do you like my piñata”

    “You have a bad sense of humor,” answered Daybit matter-of-factly while collecting the candies on the ground. “So, what do you want to tell me”

    “Right. The reason I held this party was...just as you explained before. It’s one way to celebrate a birthday, in this case it’s your birthday,” answered Tezcatlipoca.

    “My...birthday”

    “Yep. I don’t know exactly when your birth date is, so one day I decided to throw one for you here. Think about it as a way to make up for every birthday party you missed back on Earth.”

    “You really like to go the extra mile whether I approve it or not, don’t you” asked Daybit. His arms were full of candies now and he cradled them like a child protecting their prized possessions. “But you’re right. I’ve never had a birthday party for years since...since I was brought back to Earth. I just thought there was no need to spend a certain amount of time celebrating a fleeting existence, at least for me. But, I think I remembered coming to some kids’ birthday parties. There were rainbow paper hats, cakes, and presents, and even though every party was the same the kids always look happy. I just thought that was a good thing.”

    “And that’s why you taught a family of Ocelomeh about birthday parties and piñata”

    Daybit blinked. “I think I remember telling one Ocelomeh family in a village about piñata party. They wanted to have something special for their son’s birthday, but they didn’t know what to do and prepare, so I told them about the piñata. How did you know”

    Tezcatlipoca whipped out a lit cigarette between his two fingers. “It was such a strange sight I couldn’t just ignore it. I don’t think you know that the Aztecs had a ritual to honour Huitzilopochtli’s birthday with similar procession. Breaking a hanging pot to present the offerings inside for the god.”

    “So...the piñata party was a bad thing” asked Daybit, slightly dejected from the god’s answer.

    “No, no. I think it’s interesting how the ritual’s meaning changes over time into what you know today as fun activity for the kids. But, what’s important is you gave the Ocelomeh an inspiration to celebrate life, their own life, and that’s a good thing.”

    Tezcatlipoca saw Daybit’s eyes widened at his approval. The Lord of the Night Wind stretched his arms, inviting the young man to come closer. “That’s also my reason for holding this party for you. There’s nothing wrong with having one day to remember how far you’ve come through and cheer to that before moving forward again. You deserve a huge feast, but since there’s only the two of us here, think of it like a private party.”

    Daybit blinked. A faint blush appeared on his cheeks as he also smiled. “Is that so” he asked again.

    “I said so.” The god cupped the young man’s cheeks and kissed his forehead. “Happy birthday, Daybit.”
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