“Those capable of vibrating in others can become the best transmitters of nightmares, but they can also be the ones who sow in the minds of others the most fascinating stories that can be built”The Messenger
By Ariadne Gallardo Figueroa
Many have to wonder why my characters are still linked in some way along the path, the answer is simple: No one escapes the DNA that has formed us and although everyone’s genetics have variants, talk about globality in ancient times is as valid as it is now.
The most valuable thing and that which has placed us in various norms is genetic memory, what we have placed in the minds of others, that which makes us continue a tradition and decide that in it there is nothing new to discover, it is there and it is necessary to give it continuity, without criticism, without doubt, without contempt.
Painani was part of a special group, her tutor had placed doubt, criticism and analysis in her hands and mind to look at the same reality from different sides, her strength was in never letting an idea escape without considering it as part of a path and a destination and at the same time the responses it received from the environment were different and soon it would stop understanding with the people of the environment, their languages would say in a different way what it was necessary to name and feel.
The village to which she approached received her with suspicion, enormous distrust since a Painani woman was an offense to the traditional and an outburst of unnecessary vanity. Explaining yourself in other dialects would also be complicated and a waste of time. The only resource they would understand was magic and thanks to it, Painani was able to get a place to spend the night and some food.
Knowing the power of medicinal herbs when someone had a worrisome cough that prevented them from sleeping was the resource to gain the trust of the group and follow their path with some indications that they could show her by describing them with a stick in the sands of that village.
Elsewhere we see how Erandi stands at the arrival of the New Fire initiates the celebrations, she grants a headdress to each of the women who will have to dance and recreate rhythmic sounds with their flutes before giving themselves as offerings.
Erandi’s words to each one of them is different and is nourished by what she sees in their eyes, those who fear but know that they were chosen, receive a different message from those who have passionately taken the commitment as a choice that is not it would be for others.
When her turn comes to Dayami, which in the Nahuatl language means Goddess of the River, the words of the priestess of the Ometeotl temple change and the speech opens a possibility for her because of what she understands vibrates in the thought of that maiden:
“The universe has endowed with magic, may your blood be the riverbed that grows in the seeds of the fields and the strength of thoughts. ”
Rarely do we find in our name the possibility of being one with it and understanding the name as part of a route, not all They conceive that way and it is not for everyone that it happens, but if that is the case and we have someone who recognizes it nearby, we will have managed to open the necessary portal. Dayami’s blood would serve a purpose beyond her death.
We still do not know the name of the man from the South, nor that of the Messenger in the course of the story we will understand that some are named as part of a journey and those who have a name to star in events and change the course of all of them.
Despite understanding what her time determined as part of a ritual, Erandi sensed that there would be other times where life would take another form and she understood the balance between life and its cycles, precisely on that occasion; for that reason urged her to keep the blood in a bowl. Dayami’s spilled blood to make her the bridge between the shadows and her need to illuminate secrets.
The powers of a sorceress will always be beyond everything we imagine, everything that others plant us as a certainty, connecting with the universe was part of her privilege.
Ceremonial Clay Flute Photography with Free Filter by PicsArt