Story of a Mexica Warrior

The tears rolled off Chalcuchima's cheeks as he sat atop a great mountain surrounded by his fallen comrades. Vanquished by the Spaniards, Chalcuchima, the dauntless Aztec Warrior, was the only one to survive the massacre.

As he sat amidst lifeless heroes scattered like slaughtered sheep, the moon blew mournful clouds over the valley, Huitzilopochtli, the divine Aztec deity, wept tears of rain across the lost territory.

Anguish and guilt cloaked Chalcuchima's heart. He believed his to be forever blacked. The only way to cleanse it would be to cut it out and offer it to the sacred ones as a source of sanctimonious survival. Restless and ridden with guilt, He pulled his dagger from its sheath.

Just as he was about to drive the blade into his chest, the rain ceased and the clouds parted to reveal a brilliant light. Chalcuchima blinked furiously, his hands before his face. From the light a fierce Aztec Warrior appeared and descended gripping a treacherous plumed serpent.

Clothed in a ceremonial robe, his eyes were orbs of fire, his feet dazzling crystal, his voice the roar of a waterfall. His faced blazed like the sun at noonday.

Chalcuchima fell down at his feet as though dead, but the hallowed warrior laid his hands upon him and said, "Do not be afraid, I am the river of life, the river of life, the God who has guided the Mexica through catastrophe and prosperity," Chalcuchima wept, for he thought he was dead and unworthy to enter the gates of eternity.

The graceful entity looks puzzled and said, "Valiant warrior, why do you weep?" The exhausted warrior looked up to see the concerned deity and said, "I am not worthy to be in your presence, I failed to fulfill my destiny," "You have failed nothing my foolish friend," replied Huitzilopochtli. "Then why is my heart poisoned with guilt?" Asked the confused young soldier.

"You are a foolish young man who has inherited the beliefs and values of your father and his fathers. You did not fail some fatuous destiny. You survived to face your destiny," Said the benevolent God. "But my destiny was to die with my brothers," replied the warrior.

"Chalcuchima, I have the keys to the temple of death!" Lashed out the spirit. "Make no mistake my friend. Your destiny is not set to one path, it is a mystery. It's a path that you must seek out," the wise spirit sounded. "I have no family, no friends and no home. Is it not my destiny to fight for the Mexica?" Asked Chalcuchima.

"The Mexica will fall Chalcuchima. That is their destiny, but the spirit of the Aztec people will live on. My friend, find yourself a home and begin a family. Go down the mountain and inherit the wind."

"What does that mean, my God?" Questioned the warrior. "Your destiny is like the wind, it can go in any direction. Inherit the wind, Chalcuchima. Inherit the wind!" Thundered the God, with that the glorious spirit ascended into the clouds and disappeared with a bright light that became the sun.

Chalcuchima, the great Aztec Warrior seeking his true destiny, began the long journey down the mountain, following the path of the northern wind... - Anonymous

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