Teoyotl Miquiztli (Onteotlahuanac)

He lay there with his back upon the sacrificial stone. Had he been in the state of mind to think of it, he would have supposed that it should have felt hard and uncomfortable, and yet his mind was not in that state. Drunk and drugged from the ritual octli he had consumed, there was no feeling of discomfort lying there in his stretched position. Perhaps if he had consciously tried to think of it, he would have been aware of the feeling of the stone in some sense, but without thinking on it, he barely felt anything at all.

In fact, he felt like he was floating. He drifted away as he laid there, all of his senses warped, though not unpleasantly. In addition to the floating sensation, his sense of hearing seemed distant. Everything felt hollow and echoing, as if the sounds came through a vast space. His sense of smell worked well, if anything better than normal, allowing him to smell the sweet, resin scent of copal smoke as it wafted from the burners perched at the edges of the temple platform.

He looked straight up from where he lay upon the altar stone. Directly above him lay the constellation of Tezcatlipoca, hovering in the night sky that seemed so vast to his affected mind. It seemed to hover there just as he felt he was doing, and in his awareness he could not tell whether it seemed that the constellation had come closer to him, or the temple pyramid was actually so high as to be within the heavens themselves, or if it was that through his floating he had come closer to the stars of his god. He didn’t concern himself much with which it was in any case, for his state of being was so altered and he was in such awe of the sensation of this, that his only true thought was of the fact that it felt almost as if he could reach out and touch those stars, they were so close.

He could see rather vividly even from the corners of his eyes. He could see the priests standing there in the dark, illuminated only by the red-orange glow of the temple fires and the smoking censers. Their faces and bodies smeared in soot and their hair streaked with blood, his eyes picked up their activities, though his gaze remained affixed to the stars above him, barely paying attention to what the priests at his sides were doing. Through his ears he picked up the sound of their voices chanting and making intonations, though the sound quality was filtered through his disconnected awareness. He barely listened to them, however. And he was almost completely unaware of the thundering sound of drums that did echo through the physical world around him, a steady beat that would have seemed ominous to many an ear.

Perhaps he should have been afraid. He was, after all, laying in wait for a sacrificial knife to remove his heart. But the concept of fear seemed unable to filter through his current state of consciousness. Even if he had been in a state to think much about it, any fear he would have felt would have been more like nervousness than true fear. Sacrifice was a major part of his people’s culture. He remembered seeing such displays even as a child. And he had, after all, volunteered for this position, and he was to receive a glorious afterlife in reward for his sacrifice. Indeed, in his drugged state he could feel little but the sensation of floating and the immense awe of being in the presence of his god, which he could feel all around him, and, in fact, within him as well.

There had been pride in him about this for a long time. He had been chosen, after all, as the most fit representative of Tezcatlipoca, the Aztec god of the night who was the patron of sorcerers, warriors, and young men. A representative of Tezcatlipoca had to be among the most handsome men in the city, as well as cultured and refined. And he had been chosen as such. Being a particular follower of Tezcatlipoca, he had been thrilled, honored, and proud at such a choosing. Indeed, he believed himself just as fit for the position as the priests apparently did. Who in all the city was as handsome as he? He was extremely proud of his appearance and his mind, and he knew that his devotion was great enough to serve his god in such a fashion. He remembered all the times he had looked in his obsidian mirror, the symbol of his god, grooming himself in pride as he stood there dressed in the finery of Tezcatlipoca Himself.

But now, all that pride was gone. He had been stripped of all the god-worthy riches he had possessed in the last year, just a short time before he had climbed up the pyramid to meet his fate. Even so, his pride hadn’t resided in the physical possessions he had been given. If he had concentrated more on the why’s of his current position, he would have puffed his chest out in satisfaction at his state of affairs. Even as he had climbed the steps of the pyramid temple, breaking a tiny flute on each one as he traveled, he had been consumed by the glory of his fate. But he didn’t think of this now, for he was too overwhelmed with awe as he stared up at the night sky.

In the corner of his eyes he could now see the high priest, as he seemed to drift up to his side and raise his left hand as he began to invoke the god Tezcatlipoca. He had been seized almost immediately by the five offering priests when he had finished his ascent, reaching the top of the pyramid. Logically, he knew that his life would only continue for a few minutes after that initial point, but he was no longer functioning on logic. It seemed as if he had hovered here among the stars for many pleasant hours. But he had only been here for a few moments… hadn’t he? He had just been helped up to the stone and his limbs grasped tightly by the priests, hadn’t he? Or had that been yesterday? He wasn’t entirely sure, but he didn’t care, either. He was mesmerized by the spectacle above his eyes, and felt that he could stay there for an eternity and feel ecstatic.

It had been exceptionally good octli. But then, he knew that what he had consumed wasn’t purely an alcoholic beverage as normal octli was. He knew that the ritual octli had been laced with the herbs and plants that the priests used to help them enter the realm of the gods. He had felt its effects early on in the evening. He had been feasting with his four wives, and with the ruler of the city, on his last day of life. The priests had married him twenty days previous, and his wives were said to represent goddesses just as he represented a god. He had liked those twenty days. Aside from a few of his ritual, godly duties, all he was expected to do was be with these women however he wanted. And he had wanted.

The food had been excellent, but then the feast was over, and though he felt happily drunk, all around him seemed solemn and serious in their activities after that point. He understood why, but couldn’t partake in their grim mood. He had danced happily through the streets as the light faded to darkness, being directed gradually towards the temple that would be his last destination. Although the time truly hadn’t been very long, rather than his head slowly clearing, he seemed to become more inebriated as the time progressed.

Still, he had remained fully in control of himself when his own entourage had stripped off all his fine ornamentation and left him wearing nothing but his loincloth and the black stripes of Tezcatlipoca that had been painted across his face. Then, they had taken his wives away and left him there with the priests, who stood there looking at him out of their serious, soot-darkened faces, with their serious, dark eyes.

The whole thing seemed almost like a dream to him now. The past year of his life echoed in his mind the way the voices of the priests did as they recited their incantations. The only thing that made the last half hour or so of his life seem any closer to reality was the fact that the priests were right here next to him, some of them the same as the ones who had guided him to the temple steps. At least, he thought it was real. Or maybe they were dreams and he was a star in the sky as he felt. No, they were real. He could see the priest who loomed next to him now make some motions with his arms. Was he picking something up? It must have been the knife, he thought. So far as he could think.

Although he had felt the octli affecting him even more as he climbed the stairs of the pyramid one by one, he had managed to keep his mind relatively straight enough and not loose his balance. He would have supposed it took him a long time to reach the top, since he had to stop on each step and break one of his whistles on each the stairs, but as soon as he had found himself standing in front of the pyramid, time had begun to lessen it’s grip on his reality. Pausing on each step had seemed like one here and now moment that was both an instant and an eternity. And as he ascended, he could feel the divine presence of Tezcatlipoca surrounding him, awaiting him in approval at the top.

The whole thing seemed almost like a dream to him now. The past year of his life echoed in his mind the way the voices of the priests did as they recited their incantations. The only thing that made the last half hour or so of his life seem any closer to reality was the fact that the priests were right here next to him, some of them the same as the ones who had guided him to the temple steps. At least, he thought it was real. Or maybe they were dreams and he was a star in the sky as he felt. No, they were real. He could see the priest who loomed next to him now make some motions with his arms. Was he picking something up? It must have been the knife, he thought. So far as he could think.

Although he had felt the octli affecting him even more as he climbed the stairs of the pyramid one by one, he had managed to keep his mind relatively straight enough and not loose his balance. He would have supposed it took him a long time to reach the top, since he had to stop on each step and break one of his whistles on each the stairs, but as soon as he had found himself standing in front of the pyramid, time had begun to lessen it’s grip on his reality. Pausing on each step had seemed like one here and now moment that was both an instant and an eternity. And as he ascended, he could feel the divine presence of Tezcatlipoca surrounding him, awaiting him in approval at the top.

The whole thing seemed almost like a dream to him now. The past year of his life echoed in his mind the way the voices of the priests did as they recited their incantations. The only thing that made the last half hour or so of his life seem any closer to reality was the fact that the priests were right here next to him, some of them the same as the ones who had guided him to the temple steps. At least, he thought it was real. Or maybe they were dreams and he was a star in the sky as he felt. No, they were real. He could see the priest who loomed next to him now make some motions with his arms. Was he picking something up? It must have been the knife, he thought. So far as he could think.

Although he had felt the octli affecting him even more as he climbed the stairs of the pyramid one by one, he had managed to keep his mind relatively straight enough and not loose his balance. He would have supposed it took him a long time to reach the top, since he had to stop on each step and break one of his whistles on each the stairs, but as soon as he had found himself standing in front of the pyramid, time had begun to lessen it’s grip on his reality. Pausing on each step had seemed like one here and now moment that was both an instant and an eternity. And as he ascended, he could feel the divine presence of Tezcatlipoca surrounding him, awaiting him in approval at the top.

When he had reached the top and been stretched across the stone by the offering priests, he had lost any grip on the physical reality around him and succumbed fully to the effects of the drink he had consumed.

Still, he knew why he was here. He was Tezcatlipoca! He wasn’t close to the night sky. He ruled the night sky! He was the night sky. And he wasn’t floating. He was the wind blowing through the treetops, causing the billowing copal smoke to go whichever way He wanted, whenever He wanted. He was the master of all of this! These priests were His priests, and they were serving Him. He observed as the high priest raised his knife, though he watched it from both above and below. There, from the point of view of His representative. He was going to be offered a life, and it was rightfully His! Perhaps He should go and take it…

The knife flashed in the firelight and he knew nothing more.