“The offering would be the communicating vessel, it would open the ways to find answers beyond itself, an inhospitable place ceases to be until you manage to feel it and be part of it”The Messenger
By Ariadne Gallardo Figueroa
There was not much to explain, Erandi went to the place where the flow would carry the precise and necessary message to her, she would only have to be patient and wait for the moment; She took her belongings and started on the path where she would be able to understand where the message came from that had to make sense of a reality that she did not know.
She observed from afar the feathered headdress of her beloved who looked at her from the top of that fortified structure where the Goddess Coyolxauhqui was honored and remembered with joy his words:
<Beloved Erandi, I will wait for you, I will count the lunations to recognize the time it takes you to find the place where the song of the butterflies lives, may your offering be a valuable message in the voice of the wind and may your ritual cover all the mysteries>
Erandi knew perfectly well that there are certainties that are carried in the soul and in them the hope and recognize reality no matter how bleak it may be.
We know that like all body tissues, blood fulfills multiple functions necessary for life such as defense against infections, gas exchanges and the distribution of nutrients. For the Aztecs and other peoples of humanity in ancient times it was the fluid where life flows and where, like the sap of a plant, it revitalizes us and allows us life.
Erandi did not act under the designs of anyone, her intuition allowed her to go in search of the paths that her heart dictated to her, the voice of that mighty river that crossed mountains and valleys as if it were a silver thread until it reached the mouth of the river. sea, would be her ally, her messenger, and the blood of Dayami her tool.
Unlike the Master who saw in the seeds of the trees a living offering, the Aztecs literally observed humans like a seed, opening it, extracting its essence and even exposing it to fire, was part of some of their rituals: Men Corn was undoubtedly a magical and accurate term in pre-hispanic times and even further afield.
It is not difficult to suppose that the cocoa seed, by containing its fruits within a large seed that needed to be opened, came to have the power of exchange currency in its businesses; and the Xocolatl drink, a delicacy whose intake was reserved for the nobles.
Along the way, Erandi reflected on the impossibility of taking the lives of all the maidens in her hands so that they could recreate it, that special gift would not have to be taken away. Clinging to the clay pot where she carried the maiden’s blood, she said to herself:
<May the place of the butterfly’s flight be the place of your rest, may the magical messengers carry you into the river on their wings to the place where you can show me that of which I have been warned and against which I have no defense, neither do my people.
Never think that there is someone so desolate that even beyond his death he is not able to deal with what he needs to understand and make it known to those who trust his legacy, to all those who await the spell wrapped in the vastness of the immense sea, There I entrust my task to you, the one where you are my eyes and my ears, I will know that you have achieved it when your essence lets me know>
Sometimes the sound of a voice is enough to understand what few know, but also to realize much more than just that.
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