The Serpent Codices: The King and the Plumed Serpent

Chapter VI. In the Midst of War (Part 1)

Weeks had bled into one another since David’s disappearance. Haunted by relentless dreams, Elias decided to return to the island in search of his friend. He had a gut feeling that this time, he would find the rock formations. Though he had ventured there a few times before, he had found nothing—only a stern warning from the police to stay away. After that, stripped of hope and help, he had spiraled into depression and given up. Yet, the dreams had provided the spark he needed. Decisive and without a second thought, he set out for Crocodile Island.

Moving like a shadow, he dressed carefully to avoid waking his parents. Dawn was only just beginning to break; the world was still draped in darkness. He grabbed a few crusts of bread from the table for the journey—it was all he could find. Before slipping away, he approached his mother’s bedside and tenderly kissed her forehead, careful not to break her slumber.

“If I don’t come back, remember that I love you… and that I’ll always carry you in my heart,” he whispered. His mother remained in a deep sleep, barely stirring.

With a lump in his throat, he left his home, leaving behind the only people who loved him with all their souls—the people who would surely suffer if they never heard from him again. Still, he had to go; his friend needed him now more than ever.

He moved swiftly toward his destination. Reaching the lake’s edge, he stared intently at the island. Since that day, it no longer seemed mysterious, save for its peculiar, jagged silhouette. He quickly climbed into his father’s canoe and began to row with rhythmic, tireless strokes.

Upon reaching the island’s shore, the first thing he did was shout Tlaloc’s name. However, the dense jungle replied only with the cries of monkeys and birds in the canopy. The monkeys howled incessantly through the thicket, as if sensing an approaching storm.

He remembered that during his last visit, the forest had been silent. Despite his fear, he pressed on, determined. He wandered for several minutes, calling out to the god, but the jungle felt ordinary. The cliff was gone. Something had changed. He knew his friend had left this place forever… or perhaps not. He had to find the rock formations to try and reach him; surely David was terrified or in danger in an unknown world.

After walking for a long time, his hope flickering, he heard a bird’s song. It was the most beautiful melody he had ever heard, and he began to follow it. The further he went, the closer it sounded. Suddenly, he reached the source of that sweet music. His heart skipped a beat: perched upon the very rock formations he had been searching for was the beautiful white heron, watching him intently.

He ran toward it. As he approached, the majestic bird took flight and vanished among the trees. The youth stood still, watching it go. He thought of thanking it, but there was no time. He wondered if it were a coincidence or if Tlaloc was behind it. Surely the latter; though the heron had not spoken, he knew it was the same one.

He examined the formations: they were circular, roughly ten meters in diameter. Several small pillars jutted out, resembling a massive stone clock. In the center stood a taller rock—reaching the height of his shoulders—right where the bird had been perched.

Instinctively, he invoked Tlaloc’s name again and again, but nothing happened. Exhausted, he sank to his knees and began to weep. He realized he might never see his friend again. Then, he remembered what Tlaloc had told him: he had to bathe the bracelet in his blood.

Swiftly, using a small knife he carried, he cut his hand and smeared his blood over the center of the formation. Suddenly, the monkeys’ howling intensified, and in that exact moment, day turned to night.

“Do not weep, King Alarii!” a voice echoed from afar.

He looked up and scanned his surroundings but saw no one. Then, the howling stopped abruptly. A chill ran down his spine. He wished with all his might for someone to appear and help him make sense of it all.

“Son of Mixtli!” the voice spoke again.

This time, a man emerged from between the stones, shrouded in grey smoke. He gripped a long spear with a white stone tip that shone like marble. Around his neck hung a crescent of black feathers, like those of a raven, covering most of his chest. Across his back, he wore a cape of fine grey feathers that moved like silk. He wore a headdress of long black plumes that blended into his flowing hair, trailing behind him like dark tresses.

“Who are you?” Elias asked, stunned.

“My name is Tezcatlipoca, ‘The Lord of the Night,’” the god replied, observing the boy for a few moments. “I have come to your world to bring you a message of great importance.”

“A message for me?” he asked, intrigued.

Tezcatlipoca walked a few paces, turning his back before answering:

“Indeed, young king. It seems a lapse in your judgment has brought grave trouble to our world. The bracelet granted to you on the day of your birth has fallen into enemy hands.”

The boy remembered that David had taken the bracelet with him, and that it was because of it that he had disappeared.

“It’s true! David disappeared with it, right here on these stones… and because of me, I don’t know what has become of him,” he said with heavy regret.

“That oversight has brought despair and death to Aztlan. War has risen once more—a war that has divided the empire as hasn’t been seen in recent memory,” the god affirmed.

“War?” Elias asked immediately. “What war are you talking about?”

“King Alarii, we, the gods who inhabit that world, sacrificed our lives long ago to save you—you, the reincarnation of the Plumed Serpent. We placed part of our blood, and thus our essence, into that bracelet. That is why we did not vanish entirely. Without your return, we cannot fully return either. We do not yet have the strength to intervene and help the people of Aztlan. Only you can do that.”

Elias, still confused, asked again, “What do you mean?”

“You must recover the bracelet so that on the day of the Festival of the Plumed Serpent, Quetzalcoatl may awaken within you… the day appointed by the solar calendar. The prophecy must be fulfilled,” the god replied, looking him dead in the eye. “If you do not recover the bracelet before that day, I fear Aztlan will be in peril… and your world as well.”

“But… do you know what happened to my friend?” Elias asked. That was his primary concern, far above anything the god was telling him.

Tezcatlipoca fell silent for a few seconds. When he tried to answer, something seemed to hinder him. He began to fade.

“I cannot waste more time on explanations. It is taking a great toll on me to remain here.”

“I need to know!” Elias insisted, anguished, but he was cut off.

“The energy I am spending to reach your world is draining me. When you arrive in Aztlan, you will have all your answers. You must reclaim the throne and end the war.”

Though he didn’t fully grasp the situation, Elias responded with resolve:

“I don’t know if it’s true that I’m a king there. I still find it hard to believe. But if everything you’re telling me is my fault… then I have to make it right.”

The god offered a faint smile and approached him with visible effort.

“You are just like your father… and your father’s father!” he said serenely. “There is no time to lose!” he declared, suddenly seizing the boy by the shoulders and leading him to the center of the rocks.

Once there, he motioned for him to place both hands on the central stone.

“The time has come, young king! The destiny of all rests entirely upon you. Seek out the Eagle Warrior, Yarátu; he will be of great help,” the god finished. With his last bit of strength, he touched the boy’s head with the tip of his spear.

“I hope I can do this,” Elias managed to say, unaware of what was truly coming. “Hey… but who is Yara—?”

He tried to continue, but at that moment, a powerful light erupted from the staff, flooding his mind and descending slowly through his entire body until it reached the ground, dispersing across the formation. The stones glowed a vibrant green. Suddenly, the radiance intensified so sharply that he was completely blinded.

When the light faded and his vision cleared, he found himself surrounded by a thick jungle. For a moment, he thought he was still on the island… but what he heard next changed his mind: a high-pitched, almost deafening screech filled the air. He remembered it well—the same shrieks of the birds that had attacked them on the island.

He looked up. In the sky soared enormous birds, at least a dozen of them. Instinctively, he ran to hide behind some nearby trees. Not far away, emerging from the vegetation, an army of strange men marched, painted in red and wielding axes and shields. They were all moving in the same direction: south.

Suddenly, an explosion rocked the area. Cautiously, he peered through the bushes and saw multi-colored birds beginning to attack the soldiers and the giant black birds that circled the skies.

He was so absorbed in the scene that he didn’t notice someone approaching stealthily from behind.

“Who are you?” a firm, threatening voice asked.

Startled, he spun around. Before him stood a tall man, slightly taller than himself. His hair was black and cropped short. He wore two large black rings in his ears made of a shimmering rock. His face was rounded, with a broad nose and thin eyebrows. He was dressed strangely: a long, colorful loincloth, and a thick leather circular flap over his chest that also covered part of his back. It reminded him of the attire worn by Tezcatlipoca or Tlaloc.

In his hand, he gripped a long, strange sword made of sharpened stone. Twelve jagged points protruded from its sides. The hilt appeared to be carved from a brown, marble-like stone, and ancient, mysterious symbols were engraved along the blade.

“I asked: who are you?” the man insisted, pointing the sword threateningly while eyeing him from head to toe with a look of bewilderment.

The boy stood silent for a few seconds. He didn’t know how to respond; this man could be an enemy. However, he had no choice but to speak.

“My name is… Elias!” he said loudly, almost shouting from the adrenaline. “And who are you?” he asked, swallowing hard.

The man seemed surprised by his words and was about to respond when several axes began whistling past them. Immediately, the warrior protected him, pulling him toward a nearby tree. He looked at Elias for a few seconds, checking for injuries, and then roared:

“Advance!” he cried, thrusting his sword into the air.

He ran at full speed toward the red-painted soldiers in the distance. Behind him, hundreds more warriors emerged from the trees and bushes. All of them wielded those strange swords and carried small shields on their forearms. In seconds, they collided with the enemy army, and the battle began.

The youth could do nothing but watch, terrified. The red soldiers threw their axes with precision, like boomerangs, wounding and killing many of the warriors. Dead birds fell from the sky as well, their bodies crushing the combatants on the ground. The aerial battle was fierce; fewer and fewer birds remained in the air.

Nearby, atop a small hill, a standard was raised by a singular warrior. He wore a black cape and a headdress with three red feathers. What struck Elias most was that the man was mounted on a giant reptile—much like the green iguanas from the jungle back home, but of a colossal size, capable of carrying him on its back.

The standard displayed a familiar symbol: a plumed serpent with a crown on its head. Below it was an inscription, but he couldn’t read it from that distance.

In that instant, the rider seemed to spot him. At first, Elias thought the man was looking elsewhere, but he soon realized he was the target as the warrior and his mount began charging directly toward him, dodging and trampling any soldiers in their path.

Elias stood paralyzed, not knowing where to run. When he finally tried to react, the lizard opened its maw and spat a black viscosity onto one of his legs, trapping him. He felt an intense sting; the substance was hot and burned his skin. He tried desperately to break free, but it was impossible.

He looked up just in time to see the enormous reptile leaping over him, landing behind his back. Terrified, the boy managed to turn his body only to see the rider aiming an arrow at his chest.

Driven by pure adrenaline, he pulled with all his strength until his leg snapped free. At that very moment, the arrow grazed his shoulder. Without wasting time, he bolted toward the jungle to hide, but before he could reach it, the man on the lizard cut him off.

“Akin ti?” the warrior said firmly in a language he didn’t understand. “Who are you? Why are you dressed so strangely?” he asked, aiming another arrow.

“My name… is…” he started to say, but just then, the warrior he had seen at the beginning threw himself at the enemy, knocking him off the iguana.

The two men began to grapple fiercely.

“Leave the boy alone!” shouted the warrior who seemed to be on his side.

Both men scrambled to their feet, facing each other. The man who had been riding the lizard was livid.

“Traitor!” he hissed. “Ikal, you insolent fool! Do you really think you can defeat us?”

“Look around you, Iktan, and see for yourself!” Ikal responded firmly.

When Iktan looked up, he saw his soldiers fleeing before the strength and numerical superiority of the warriors commanded by Ikal.

“But… how is this possible?” he exclaimed, incredulous.

“The time has come for you to pay for everything. I will be the one to end your life,” Ikal threatened, brandishing his massive sword.

However, the enemy’s iguana delivered a tail-swipe so powerful it sent Ikal flying several meters back.

“My king will be pleased when I bring him your head,” the enemy growled, seeing Ikal downed. “But first, you must die,” he declared, turning toward the youth and firing an arrow at his chest.

Instinctively, Elias crossed his arms to protect himself, and miraculously, a barrier surrounded him. The arrow disintegrated completely. It was as if an invisible energy were shielding him.

Ikal, struggling to stand, watched in shock, as did the enemy. Neither could believe what they had just witnessed.

“This!.. This is impossible!” the man cried, skeptical. “Only the Thunder Warriors possessed such power…”

“Look out!” Ikal shouted at that moment.

The massive iguana lunged at Elias to bite him, but it was stopped abruptly by an invisible force that seemed to hold it back. It was Ikal who, with a movement of his hands, had summoned that strange shield. He himself looked surprised to have wielded that power again after so long…

…"

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