Cuathli suddenly woke up.
At first, he was confused, but then he began to think hard. He tried to catch every detail of his dream and interpret it. After a short time, he had a plan.
Usually, he would calmly ponder over the vision, writing down every single detail on paper. This time, however, he couldn't sit and contemplate. He had to act. He grabbed his cloak, and screamed:
"Guards! Guards! Come to me, now!"
He started tying the laces of his sandals, so he would be ready to go when the guards arrived. As a person of his status, he should call acolytes to assist him while dressing. But he didn't want to waste a single second. Following the vision was far more important than earthly conventions.
As he tied his cloak, guards led by an officer burst into the chamber.
"High priest, what happened?"
They were clearly confused. The high priest called them, but they saw no danger. What could have happened?
"I received a vision from Xochipilli. We have to go to the temple. Now!"
The high priest left his chamber, and the guards, although confused, followed after. When they went outside, the officer asked the high priest:
"Your Holiness, what are you looking for?"
Cuathli looked at the officer while walking.
"We're looking for something that connects with a flute and pulque. If my interpretation of the vision is correct, this is the sacrifice Xochipilli wants. We should find it on the temple steps."
They left the building. There was still much time before the dawn, so they lit torches. When they reached the temple stairs, they found a young man sleeping on them.
"What is he doing here? No one should be here at this hour."
The guards' leader walked towards the sleeping man, but the high priest stopped him with his hand. Cuathli himself approached the person lying on the steps of the temple — the symbol of the border between the mortal realm and the realm of the gods.
Although the only light source in the darkness was torches, it was still possible to see that the sleeping man was very young — he had barely entered adulthood. His beauty was striking — delicate, almost feminine. He wore just a maxtlatl, patched in a few places. Judging by its appearance, it was made from agave fibres. His hair was tied at the back of his head. Which meant that, if he was a warrior, he had not yet taken any captives for sacrifice.
Cuathli shook him gently, but that didn't wake up the young man. Then the high priest saw an object lying next to him. It was a flute. Simple tlapitzalli made from clay and decorated with small carved flowers. The man looked more closely at the instrument. It looked just like the one he saw in his vision. That made him search for the second element of his vision: pulque.
At first, he looked for a jug, even in the form of broken parts, but he didn't see anything like that. Then he had an idea. It seemed silly for a moment, but it was worth trying. He bent to the young man's mouth, who sighed at that moment, still dreaming. The priest received the answer he expected. He smelled the holy drink in the mysterious young man's breath.
"We found it."
Cuathli took the flute, and then he lifted the unconscious young man. He knew his vision concerned this young man, but its meaning remained unclear. It was something he had yet to discover.
The young man had to wake up first and explain why he was on the temple steps, before the high priest could decide what to do next. The middle of the garden wasn't a good place for questioning, especially since the stranger was deeply asleep. First, the high priest had to move him to the right place. In fact, there was a place in his residence for such unexpected guests. A ritual prison where candidates for a sacrifice to the gods were kept. Cuathli had no idea if the young man was to be sacrificed, but it was an appropriate place for him. Currently, it was empty. Since it was isolated from the rest of the residence, it was a private and tranquil space.
The prison did not resemble a place of punishment in any way.
It was a flower-filled courtyard enclosed by a barred ceiling. In the middle of it, between the columns decorated with floral patterns, a censer decorated with images of flowers and dance scenes stood. Cells in the wall drew the high priest's attention. There were no bars or heavy doors. They weren't needed. Those placed there were no criminals, but potential mediators between mortals and gods. A warm-coloured fabric with embroidered flowers and butterflies covered the entrance, providing just enough privacy. He chose one of the cells and brought the young man inside.
The cell was simple, decorated with delicate flower ornaments. Inside, there was a sleeping mat with a blanket and a simple table.
Cuathli laid the young man on the mat and covered him with the blanket. He put his flute next to his hand. The only thing left was to wait for the young man to wake up.
"Should I bring some water, high priest?"
Apparently, the soldiers weren't as patient as he was. It was a trait of hotheadedness he knew all too well.
"No, let him sleep."
"Watch him in pairs and report as soon as he wakes up."
Again, the same. Waking up in the company of soldiers would be even more stressful than the cold shower. The high priest wanted the young man to wake up feeling safe.
"No. Wake up one of the acolytes. Meya… Wake up Meya. Tell her to watch him. Leave one guard in the prison. He should just stand in the square and act like a regular guard."
The guards left, leaving only one of them with the high priest. Cuathli wanted to stay and wait for the young man to wake up, but he was a high priest. He had his responsibilities, and he couldn't shift them onto someone else just because of that.
Soon after, Meya came, yawning and rubbing her eyes. Well, he couldn't blame her. If not for the circumstances, she would still be asleep. The girl looked like a common charming maiden who could be seen during a walk in the market. However, Meya did not come alone. She was accompanied by Xilonen, who stretched lazily, subtly highlighting her femininity. While Meya looked like an ordinary girl, Xilonen was the personification of fertility — large round breasts and hips; a perfectly shaped soft body. She was also playful and outgoing. She had many admirers, and the boldest ones even tried to sneak into the residence. How many times did he and the temple guards have to chase them away?
"Good morning, high priest."
"Morning. Do you know what time it is? Why do we have to watch someone?"
He didn't summon Xilonen, but her presence might come in handy. He opened the door and showed them the sleeping boy.
"I found him sleeping in the temple grounds. He smells of pulque. I want him to wake up and explain everything to me."
Meya looked surprised at the sleeping young man, and Xilonen awoke in a moment. She smiled and moved to enter the cell, but Cuathli stopped her.
"No, not you, Xilonen. Meya, you'll be watching him sleep. When he wakes up, tell him that I found him in the temple grounds, and right now he's in our residence. Don't tell him that he's in the ritual prison. Xilonen, that goes for you, too."
Izel was right. You could never have known what Xilonen was thinking about. He knew her smile. That girl had already come up with some crazy ideas. He could only guess what she wanted to do with the sleeping young man.
"Xilonen, go to Izel and Nenetzi and tell them that another group will take over your ritual duty. At dawn, you will bring Meya and our mysterious guest breakfast. Tell our cook to make agave broth for him."
Xilonen smiled.
"For hangover?"
"Yes, I don't know how much he drank."
Xilonen understood in one moment as she liked to drink, just like she liked boys, dance and music. She enjoyed life to the fullest, but she had to be watched so she wouldn't lose her way. The high priest rested his hand on her shoulder and spoke gently:
"Xilonen, Izel and Nenetzi are waiting."
The girl pouted, displeased that the high priest stopped her from doing something interesting. Meanwhile, Meya sat beside the sleeping young man and started to watch him.
Xilonen and Cuathli left the prison.