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We’re too late. It’s too late. I’m too late. The same thought ran through Citlali’s mind over and over again, like a broken record repeating the same few seconds of a song, unable to move on to the next line. She knew Mavuika was going to pull something like this, and when someone had finally noticed the archon had disappeared from the celebration, she and Xilonen immediately knew what was happening. She was going to fulfill the pact she had made with Ronova. And she was going to die. For the sake of her nation, and her people.
Citlali knew there had to be a way to fix this, but Mavuika had turned down every suggestion Citlali had offered up, as though she was determined to sacrifice herself, and let her bright flame burn low, to nothing more than dying embers on an ash-covered floor. Citlali cursed herself, for not realizing sooner, and cursed Mavuika, for being so damn stubborn . She couldn’t die. Who would Citlali have without her?
Who would always be there to ask her for advice? Who else would tell her about their day, just for the sake of having company and a listening ear? Who else’s soul would burn so brightly, casting light and warmth to all those surrounding it? Who else would smile at her like she was the center of the world?
Tears pricked in the inner corners of her eyes, but Citlali blinked them back, refusing to let them get in the way of her journey to Mavuika’s side. She couldn’t be dead. Not so soon. Ronova wouldn’t have called upon her to complete the pact mere hours after the battle’s end. That wouldn’t be fair .
But then, Citlali couldn’t be foolish enough to think one of the Heavenly Principles, the Ruler of Death herself, would do things in a way that was fair . ‘Fair’ meant nothing to Ronova, and never would. To her, Mavuika was nothing more than a payoff for a debt owed, nothing more than a pawn in her great machinations.
But to Citlali, Mavuika was her whole world. Mavuika was the sun in the sky, the warmth in the earth beneath her feet, the steam above the water in a hot spring. Mavuika was everything and more. She was the light in a dark room, the flame burning the wick of a candle down to nothing but ash in a tray. She was all that mattered to Citlali at this moment, and if they were too late and she truly was dead…Citlali would never feel true warmth and love and joy again; she was sure of it.
Citlali’s feet and legs burned, her muscles screaming from far more exertion than they were used to, her lungs begging for more air. Xilonen was several meters ahead of her, her rollerskates giving her a boost in speed that Citlali could never achieve, but Citlali did not stop running. She was so close, and although she had a feeling deep in her chest that they were far too late to prevent Mavuika’s fate, she refused to allow herself to give up. She saw Xilonen grind her rollerskate wheels into the stone up ahead in a sharp stop, and Citlali gave every ounce of energy she had left to run just a little faster, and catch up to Xilonen, all but collapsing next to the other woman.
“She’s…not here,” Xilonen gasped out, fighting to get enough air to be able to speak.
“What do you mean she’s not here?” Citlali asked, incredulous. “She must be. Dead or alive.”
Xilonen shook her head. “Look at the throne. That’s not her body.”
Citlali looked up, vision blurry as a result of her excessive exertion, and squinted through tears forcing their way out of her eyes. Xilonen was right. A body sat frozen on the stone throne before them, and that body did not belong to Mavuika. Citlali recognized it, though. The body is that of Capitano, the Fatui Harbinger who came to Natlan claiming to want to help Mavuika fight off the Abyss Order and Gosoythoth.
“Him…?” Citlali’s breaths still heaved, her lungs expanding to their maximum capacity, which still wasn’t enough. “Why is he…?”
Xilonen’s eyes widened. “Do you think he might have-” She cut herself off, turning her head to meet Citlali’s gaze.
“If he chose to be the payment in place of Mavuika, then…where is Mavuika?” Citlali asked, pausing every other word to gasp for breath. Her tears refused to be held back a second longer, and spilled past the floodgates, pouring down her cheeks as she curled up at Xilonen’s feet, her choked sobs echoing against the stone.
Xilonen knelt at her side, carefully placing a hand on Citlali’s back. “I don’t know, but…if she’s not here, then that must mean she’s alive.” The other woman looked up at Capitano, still and stiff on that throne, and winced. “Let’s split up. I’ll go back to the festival and see if she went back there, and you go to the Speaker’s Chamber. If she’s not there, meet me at the Stadium and we’ll start getting search parties together,” she said, clearly struggling to keep a strong facade up.
Citlali sat up slowly, wiping her tears away as best she could with one hand, and nodded. “Okay. I’ll send a messenger to you if I find her at the Chamber.”
Xilonen gave a grunt of approval, and immediately set off back in the direction they’d come from, leaving Citlali sitting alone on the cold stone floor of the cave. She didn’t move for a while, paralyzed by grief and fear. She could feel none of Mavuika’s warmth in this place, and that terrified her. If she and Xilonen couldn’t find Mavuika, where could she possibly have gone? What could have happened to her?
Citlali burst through the doors of the Speaker’s Chamber, tears welling up in her eyes once more. She tripped on the threshold, landing on her knees, her hands not moving fast enough to break her fall. Tears fell from her eyes, splattering on the russet stone floor of the room, another choked sob wrenching its way from her throat.
“Citlali?”
A voice tentatively called her name, the singular word echoing through the emptiness of the room. A familiar voice.
Citlali looked up, seeing only blurs of color swimming before her. Black. Red. Yellow and orange. Mavuika. She leapt to her feet, racing forward to reach out and grab Mavuika’s arms, to touch her, to make sure she was real. “You’re-” She couldn’t get even a word out before her voice broke, and sobs took away her voice again.
“Citlali, this is very unlike you, what’s-”
Citlali cut her off. “You were supposed to die.”
Mavuika winced. “Yeah, I was.”
“How are you alive?” Citlali asked, practically blubbering through her cries. She shook her head in disbelief, and fought the urge to pull the taller woman into her arms and just hold her, feel her form, feel the warmth and pulse of a living, breathing, human body.
“Capitano. He convinced Ronova to take him instead, and break her own rules.” Mavuika stared at the floor, bowing her head in what seemed like…shame.
Every word Citlali tried to say dried up in her mouth like a puddle in direct sunlight, and so she and Mavuika stood there in complete and utter silence for many minutes, Citlali still holding onto Mavuika’s arms. She noticed she was still doing so, and immediately let go, an instinct preserved from her usual need to remember that Mavuika was her archon. She took two steps back, her tears beginning to dry on her face. She needed to let go of that need now.
“I thought I was too late,” she said, pressing her lips together tightly as more cries threatened to leap out of her lungs. “I thought you were dead, Mavuika. I thought…I thought I’d lost you.”
“Citlali…”
“Please…just let me say this.” She looked up at Mavuika, sheer agony and grief still welled up in her blue eyes. “I…I can’t go another moment without letting you know this. Thinking I’d lost you and let you die without knowing that I- it was maybe the most painful thing I’ve ever felt, Mavuika.”
Mavuika’s eyebrows drew together in concern and confusion, and she worried at her lower lip. “Without knowing what?” she asked, voice the softest Citlali had ever heard it.
“Without knowing that I…love you.” Citlali stepped back unconsciously upon letting the words leave her mouth, terrified of what Mavuika’s response would be.
Mavuika’s worried expression seemed to melt right off her face, and she stepped forward and pulled Citlali into her arms, tucking Citlali’s face into the nook where her shoulder met her neck. “Citlali, I- I genuinely don’t know what I’d do if I lost you. When I was on my way to meet Ronova, I…I couldn’t stop thinking about how badly I wanted to stay. With you. To love you.”
Citlali wrapped her arms around Mavuika’s waist and held tight, letting her tears flow again. “Do you really…?” Her voice trailed off, and she pulled her head back to meet Mavuika’s eyes.
“Of course I do, Citlali. How could I not?” Mavuika gently placed one hand on the back of Citlali’s neck and tilted her head up to kiss her, her lips warm and gentle, reigniting the snuffed-out flames in Citlali’s heart. They spent the rest of that cold night there, together in the Speaker’s Chamber, making up for lost time until the sun peeked its head over the horizon again.