Chapter Twenty-Two: The Sulfur Sun

Chapter Twenty-Two: The Sulfur Sun

The palace’s temple reeked of blood and tar.

I had come to expect the former from all the vampires’ creations, but the latter had come to surprise me. From the Nightlords’ dark abode at the center of my palace to their secret altars, every place of significance to these parasites’ false religion included at least one pool of the black, viscous substance.

A moat’s worth of that filth filled the palace’s temple, surrounding a hill of ashes standing tall under a black dome of obsidian. A large hole in the ceiling let the moon illuminate the room with its ephemeral light. Murals representing cosmic phenomena, from the dance of constellations to the rise of an eclipsed sun, adorned the sturdy wall. Rows after rows of stone benches filled the hall, with no one to sit upon them.

The temple’s true masters looked down on me from above. I felt their crimson eyes gaze upon me the moment I stepped alone into this unhallowed sanctuary. I looked up to match their glares.

A flock of Nightkin hung upside down from the ceiling, their talons sinking into the obsidian to lock them in place, their jet-black wings furled like mantles of darkness. I could hardly distinguish their numbers in the darkness. Dozens, maybe hundreds of them? Whatever the case, a court full of vampires had gathered to witness this ceremony.

“Come, Iztac,” an oh-so-familiar voice called out to me.

Yoloxochitl’s kindly whispers never failed to inspire dread.

I crossed a bridge of stone over the moat of tar and walked into the moonlight. Yoloxochitl awaited me at the ashen hill’s bottom alongside Eztli. I couldn’t tell how I managed to keep a blank expression when I saw them.

Yoloxochitl had lowered her robes just enough to reveal her naked chest. Eztli knelt in front of the Nightlord, her fangs biting into her left breast and suckling her vampiric progenitor’s sick black blood.

The scene might have seemed titillating to some, but not to me. Eztli’s sharp fangs pierced through her mistress’ skin deep enough to reach the swelling veins below, yet not a single drop trickled down. My consort’s eyes were lost in an expression of ultimate pleasure and satiation. She didn’t even notice my presence. Her hands tightly gripped Yoloxochitl’s breast, squeezing it, holding on to it. The more Eztli tasted the Nightlord’s blood, the thirstier she became. I almost thought she would chew out her flesh to make the process faster.

The thirst had overtaken her mind.

Yoloxochitl appeared to share in her brood’s pleasure too. She moaned and chuckled with each suction, her eyes closed, her tongue sticking out of her cursed mouth.

“Yes,” I heard her whisper, her hand gently caressing the back of Eztli’s head. “Yes, my daughter, feed on... If thou be thirsty, then drink...”

Another man might have found the scene arousing. I personally struggled not to vomit.

A lifetime ago, I had witnessed women breastfeeding their infant children on Acampa’s riverbank. The beautiful miracle of a mother nourishing the new life they had helped bring into this cruel world. The scene before my eyes was a mockery of this sacred human moment, a twisted reflection of reality cast on a cursed obsidian mirror. An ancient parasite feeding its ill-gotten blood to a stolen daughter. Necahual’s usurpation as a living mother, a reminder that Eztli’s life now belonged to another.

The fact I knew exactly how the Nightlord looked beneath her beautiful human mask only heightened my disgust.

“Mother Yoloxochitl,” I said, hoping reminding them of my presence would end this twisted union.

Thankfully, it did. Yoloxochitl smiled at me sweetly, then gently shooed Eztli away from her breast. My friend and consort whined like an animal denied its meal, but did not resist the Nightlord’s command. The bite marks she had left on Yoloxochitl’s breast closed instantaneously.

“Greet your husband properly, my daughter,” she commanded.

Sanity instantly returned to Eztli’s gaze. She blinked a few times, as if awakening from a pleasurable dream, then noticed my presence at last. The blissful smile on her lips swiftly faded, a flash of shame crossing her dilated eyes.

“Iztac,” she said, black blood dripping down her chin. “Sorry for the mess.”

She doesn’t like me seeing her like this, but vampires are compelled to obey their progenitor’s orders, I remembered to my own disgust. One night I shall free you.

“How does it feel?” I asked her, slightly afraid of the answer.

“Wonderful, Iztac. Like drinking the heavens themselves.” Eztli forced herself to smile for Yoloxochitl’s sake and licked the blackened blood on her face, consuming every last drop. “You should try it too.”

I know she only meant it to stay in the Nightlord’s good graces, but the very idea of sucking Yoloxochitl’s blood, of inviting any part of her into my body, repulsed me to my core. I loathed the thought of that parasite strengthening her already unbearable hold over my soul and body.

Yoloxochitl smiled kindly at Eztli before covering her breasts with her robes. “He cannot,” she said before turning her attention to me. “You cannot, Iztac.”

“Why is that?” I wondered while doing my best to hide my relief. Come to think of it, wouldn’t it have been easier for them to bind me the way the Nightlords bound their red-eyed priests?

“Your blood must stay pure,” the Nightlord replied calmly. “My sisters and I share a bond with you deeper than any familial tie. However, our union requires balance. The north cannot encroach on the south, nor the west on the east.”

The truth became clear to me. Beneath all the esoterism, the Nightlords simply didn’t want either of them to gain more power over whatever ritual bound my soul to their altar. They had ruled so long by sharing power and not vying over it.

I was almost tempted to drink Yoloxochitl’s blood and sow chaos between the sisters, but a mere glance at Eztli’s ecstatic, addled expression convinced me otherwise. To partake in a vampire’s blood would mean tightening my own chains.

“Moreover, while our blood would preserve you from time’s sway, it would also wither your loins,” Yoloxochitl said. “Your divine blood must keep flowing, my son.”

As always, I was nothing more than a breeding turkey. I was almost tempted to ask Yoloxochitl what happened to the previous emperors’ sons, to lift the veil of that particular mystery from my mind.

No, not yet, I told myself. Patience. I needed to build more trust beforehand, lest I arouse suspicion.

“What of my blood?” I asked cautiously, hiding my malice behind a mask of generosity. The very thought of letting a vampire feed on me disgusted me, but the Parliament of Skulls promised me that the fire in my veins would hurt them. “Would you partake in my blood if I offered it, Mother Yoloxochitl?”

Will you let my burning blood incinerate your veins from within? I thought. Will you bite my neck and partake in this poisoned meal?

“You are very kind, my child, but I must refuse,” Yoloxochitl replied, albeit with a hint of reluctance. I caught a brief flash of thirst and desire when she stared at my neck. “I am forbidden to taste your blood until the Scarlet Moon. There are laws that even I must obey.”

I had expected that answer, and did not push the subject further. Even if she decided to feed on my blood—a prospect that frightened me as much as I relished the thought of poisoning her—I lacked the strength to overpower her afterward. Feeding her my blood would weaken the Nightlord, but it would not destroy her.

I too would be patient. Yoloxochitl felt the thirst and fought back the hunger. She wanted to drink my blood, only holding herself back from fear of punishment; and when there was a will, there was a way. Forbidden pleasures possessed an allure that made them difficult to resist, and Yoloxochitl had proved herself to be deeply impulsive; enough to upset her sisters’ plans and go against their will by claiming Eztli as a Nightkin. She lacked the Jaguar Woman’s self-control. She would give in if properly pushed.

The Parliament of Skulls asked me to cultivate my relationship with Yoloxochitl until I could learn more about her fatal weapon. And I could go farther. I could lay the groundwork for her demise. Be the snake in the grass closing in for the fatal bite.

Vampirism had unbalanced Yoloxochitl’s mind and filled it with dark obsessions. Her madness followed a logic of its own. I had to play into it. To put a Veil on her deeper than any illusion, to slowly lower her mental defenses until she finally gave in. A seduction of a sort.

“Now, my son, give your mother a kiss,” the Nightlord said.

I dutifully obeyed, my lips touching her cold, lifeless cheek. Think of victory, I told myself, blocking the horrific memories of vines and claws erupting from under that pristine skin. Everything is permitted in the pursuit of victory.

“How was your training today?” Yoloxochitl asked as if she cared.

“We were told you performed admirably,” Eztli mused with a mischievous, malicious smirk. “Much to our dear Chikal’s appreciation.”

“I have heard that your amazon consort proved...” A flash of anger passed in Yoloxochitl’s eyes. “Rough.”

“She is a harsh teacher, but a fair one,” I argued, hoping to spare Chikal a deadly visit. “No man has become a great warrior from being coddled.”

“That is true, Iztac,” Yoloxochitl confirmed. “However, much like an eagle looks down upon turkeys struggling on the ground, an emperor stands above the petty indignities of battle. Your spear is an army, and your shield is a thousand protectors ready to die for you.”

“That may be so, Mother, but I remember you saying that our poor soldiers deserved comfort.” That was how she had justified trying to enslave Necahual not so long ago. “Seeing their emperor share their struggles will be like balm to their wounded hearts.”

“It is one thing to be bold, Iztac, and another to be wise,” Yoloxochitl declared with what could pass for wisdom. “Promise me not to endanger yourself, child. It wounds me to see you threatened.”

Then you should spare me the altar. Her terrible actions spoke louder than her empty words. “I have no doubt your benediction shall grant me victory,” I said, baiting her. “Though if I may ask... what is this great weapon that will turn the tide against the Sapa?”

“Patience, Iztac.” Yoloxochitl lightly stroked my cheek, as if to reprimand an overeager child. “Miracles must be seen, not heard. This flower shall bloom in due time. An emperor’s duties to his subjects pale before those he owes the heavens, and for now, a greater task awaits you.”

I nodded dutifully, suppressing a flash of anger. The time hadn’t come yet. “As Mother wishes.”

“Worry not, all your prayers shall eventually be answered.” Yoloxochitl waved a hand at the hill of ash, inviting me to look upon it. “The year cometh to an end, Iztac. As emperor, it is your duty to see that past afflictions and sins do not carry into the new cycle of the world.”

I looked up at the hill’s summit and caught a glimpse of a figure kneeling at its top, hands joined in prayer. A shiver went down my spine as I realized what ‘sin’ I would purge from this world.

A headless, desiccated corpse with a perfectly carved hole at the center of its chest towered high above me. Though its mummification had made him thinner, I immediately recognized to whom this husk once belonged to. Even in death and desecration, the Nightlords had clothed him like an emperor, with rich finery and golden filigranes.

I stared at the beheaded corpse of Nochtli the Fourteenth, whose skull had joined my reliquary.

I had witnessed my predecessor’s murder alongside the rest of the empire, watching in silent dread as the Nightlords carved his chest open and fed his heart to their sinister sire. Should I fail to defeat the sisters, my remains would one night stand atop this altar in silent desecration.

“These are the past emperors’ ashes.” Yoloxochitl’s hands settled on my shoulders, her nails sharp as an eagle’s talons. She loomed behind me like death’s shadow. “Much like my father before them, they too have suffered the penance of fire. While their skulls rest in the reliquary, their remains shall fuel the flames of a new year free of sins.”

I ought to throw you into the fire then, I thought. “I see no flame yet.”

“For you must light it with your own hands,” Yoloxochitl explained. “For the next four nights, you shall tend to it from sunset to sunrise. Feed it. Cherish it. Then, on the fifth day, you shall ascend to the top of the world and herald the dawn of a new year.”

“Sunset to sunrise?” My heart stopped. “I... forgive me, but I had planned for Ingrid and her mother to visit me tonight.”

And moreover, I had promised the Yaotzin a payment for the night. If I failed to deliver in time, I dreaded to imagine the resulting penalty.

“They shall await until dawn,” Eztli whispered into my ear. “Do not worry. I shall keep you company until then.”

“These next few days shall be trying, my child,” Yoloxochitl said, her tone gentle but firm. “But the cosmos demands it.”

I hadn’t expected this, nor been informed. Moreover, it would disrupt my journey to the Underworld. While I could catch up on some hours of sleep in the morning, my imperial agenda would force me to awaken early.

They’re here, I thought, my blood running cold. They’ve answered the call.

The other Nightlords had joined their sisters to witness this strange miracle. They formed a circle around Nochtli’s remains, as if ready to tear him limb from limb again.

“I thought the chains broke, but this...” Sugey, the Bird of War, crossed her arms. Was that dread or joy that I saw in her trembling fingers? “This is it...”

Iztacoatl nodded in excitement. “The flame burns with smokeless sulfur. A sacred hunger that requires no sustenance.” She raised a hand, feverishly approaching the flame. “All the power we can drain from this...”

The Jaguar Woman angrily slapped her sister’s hand away from the fire.

“Restrain yourself,” she chided her sibling. “Those are favorable auspices, but fraught with peril.”

Chains? I wondered. Did they mean the chains around my soul? A few of their words drew my attention too. Drain? Not gain?

“I do not understand,” I whispered, fishing for information.

“Our Dark Father has blessed your divine rule, Iztac,” Yoloxochitl replied with motherly pride. “This age, your age, shall be one of blessed darkness and glory. Fifty-two years of terror await our enemies.”

“Our sister speaks true, Iztac Ce Ehecatl,” the Jaguar Woman said. The blue flame’s hue reflected in her exposed eyes. “Your term will be the most important since our empire’s foundation. Feed the flame, child. Feed it.”

“With what?” I rasped.

“Blood.” The Jaguar Woman turned to Eztli, her tone hasty and imperious. “Fetch him blood!”

I spent the night trying to douse that cursed flame.

If the Nightlords wanted it to burn, then it made sense for me to smother it in return. I had little luck with that.

First of all, the four sisters stood watch over their twisted prize. They observed my work with the zeal of taskmasters. I was only allowed to pour the cups of blood Eztli climbed the ashen mountain back and forth with.

The longer the night went on, the more I started to doubt that anything could extinguish this unnatural fire. It consumed blood and wood alike without leaving any waste. The fluids did not boil or turn to steam at its contact. They simply vanished into the blue fire.

The flame neither grew larger nor hotter no matter how much blood I fed it. I was filling a bottomless hole from which nothing escaped. My task appeared as pointless as it was mind-numbing.

“The dawn approaches,” Yoloxochitl said after many hours. “Go rest, my child. You have earned it.”

“We shall meet again at sundown,” the Jaguar Woman added. “Do not delay.”

I considered disobeying, but her tone implied that they would drag me to this place if I did. Whatever purpose this ritual served, the Nightlords considered it important enough to oversee personally.

I climbed down the ashen mountain with Eztli’s help. She had helped me transport bloody cups all night long without ever uttering a word. Her hollow gaze was empty of its usual mischief and bravery.

“Eztli?” I asked once we finally left the temple. I admit I found myself relieved to escape this place, though it was short-lived. My silent guards dutifully flanked me the moment I walked into the next corridor. “Eztli, are you well?”

My friend and consort suddenly seemed to remember my presence. “Do you remember that time we found a snake in the river, two years back?”

“Of course I do.” It had given her quite the scare then.

“That flame... It frightens me the same way, Iztac.” Eztli rubbed her arms with her hands. I had never seen her so scared since... since she had turned. “It wants to eat me. I can tell.”

“I won’t let it harm you,” I promised her.

At this moment, she gave me the strangest of looks. Despair, sorrow, and something I couldn’t quite understand. Something unbelievably sad.

“You are sweet, Iztac,” Eztli said softly, “But what makes you think I want you to?”

She vanished into the shadows before I could ask her what she meant.

“Eztli?” I called out to her, shaken by her response. “Eztli?”

Only my silent guards’ steps answered me. I was surrounded by armed men, and yet alone once again. Somehow, Eztli’s words frightened me as much as whatever terror the Nightlords brewed in that flame of theirs.

Tired as I was, I did not return to my chambers immediately. Instead, I went to the reliquary, officially to meditate, unofficially to consult with my predecessors.

The previous emperors’ skulls were already awake when I arrived, their empty sockets shining with an eldritch glow. I took it as a dire warning. They had witnessed tonight’s events through our link, and found it concerning.

“What happened?” I asked immediately. “What was that?”

“Something that’s never happened before.” Six hundred skulls marked a short pause, their minds clearly struggling to understand what they had witnessed. “The flame has never turned blue since the New Fire Ceremony started, nor did the Nightlords show so much interest in its upkeep. This is unprecedented.”

A word that did not warm my heart. As for the creature I had witnessed in the fire... that glimpse into an abyss of absolute evil and hunger...

“That thing in the flame...” Remembering it alone caused my heartbeat to quicken. “Could it be...?”

“Mayhaps,” the Parliament replied. They had guessed the likely source of the power within. “Or maybe not. We cannot be certain yet.”

The previous emperors spoke with wisdom, but I sensed their fear beneath the caution. The four sisters were feeble shadows compared to that entity’s power and malice.

“There is another detail you should know, our successor,” the skulls said. “When the sulfur flame lit up, we sensed a surge of power rising from deep below the Blood Pyramid.”

“The Blood Pyramid?” I immediately thought of whatever horror took place there; something so terrible the Parliament would not speak of it. “Why?”

“It’s unclear as of now, but we can warrant a guess,” the Parliament said. “The ritual sacrifice of emperors to their progenitor imbues the Nightlords with magic. The New Fire Ceremony and the Scarlet Moon probably feed into each other somehow. A threshold of some kind has been crossed, whether from the weight of six hundred years of sorrow or because of some cosmic alignment.”

I supposed their mountain of ashes had grown big enough. “The Nightlords hope that this sulfur flame will strengthen them.”

“All the more reason to douse it, our successor. The quicker the better.”

“Douse it with what, water?” I replied dryly. “It consumes all that comes in contact with it. Neither will the Nightlords let me out of their sight.”

The skulls fell into the silent gloom. They had no more solutions to offer than I did.

For perhaps the first time since we formed an alliance, they were at a loss at what to do next. We had ventured into unknown territory where old wisdom could not help us.

I replayed tonight’s events in my mind, trying to grasp their significance. I was certain important details, if not overlooked, would prove key to our future victory.

The First Emperor still existed. The Nightlords feared his wrath, my soul was bound to his altar, and the vampire curse endured. Tales said he had become the new sun in the sky in a great act of benevolence and that without blood to sustain him, he would cast the universe into eternal darkness.

If... if the entity I had received a glimpse of was indeed the First Emperor, then he was indeed burning. Not in a sun’s heart though. I had witnessed a dead sun and tasted their embers. The flames consuming the First Emperor were of a different sort, their smell unmistakable.

A sulfur cage.

Neither did I feel any kindness or martyrdom coming from this dreadful vampire progenitor. I only tasted a sip of endless hate and bottomless hunger. No fire burned half as hot as that monster’s wrath. As for that final curse he uttered, not at me, but at the four parasites claiming to be his daughters and heirs...

Traitors. The word echoed in my head, sharp and clear. Traitors.

“What if...” I cleared my throat, a risky idea forming in my mind. “What if we didn’t douse the flame?”

The old emperors wisely listened. “Explain yourself.”

“I caught a glimpse of what fuels the fire,” I reminded them. “Whether it was the First Emperor or something else, it resents the Nigthlords with a hate that surpasses even ours. That, and the sisters... they said they would drain power from the flame.”

“You believe that this power is not granted willingly,” the Parliament guessed. “It is stolen.”

“I think so,” I confirmed. “What if instead of canceling the Nightlords’ ritual, we could cause it to backfire on them? Let the entity reap its revenge against them?”

For the second time since I had met them, the skulls making up the Parliament started silently debating between themselves. Such was the gravity of my suggestion.

“We presume that you understand the risks at hand,” they said upon reaching a consensus. “Sorcery of this magnitude is like wielding an obsidian dagger without a hilt. A single mistake might spell your destruction.”

“We have all perished once before,” I replied with determination. I had stabbed my own heart to spite the sisters on the very first night of my rule. I could do it again if needed. “While I would rather live to see Yohuachanca crumble, I will gladly offer my life to drag the Nightlords down into the Underworld’s depths.”

“Your resolve does you credit, our successor.” The dead emperors rattled in approval. “We must ponder this further and gather more information. Until then, you should rest and think, our successor. We can discuss our options with a clearer mind afterward.”

I excused myself with a final bow, so tired that I relished the thought of going to bed. Yet my mind remained worried. If the First Emperor truly fueled that sinister ritual, then it made it all the more imperative to study his codices.

I needed to obtain those books by whatever means necessary.

Only then could I cut the vampire curse off at its source.