Somewhat Aged Copy

This tale comes from the desolate, distant past. In those days, the mountains'
teeth were still bared like blades against man and beast, thirsting for the
souls of the feeble-minded, human and nonhuman alike. People knew that the god
of the mountains loved them not, and was to be given a wide berth. Yet they were
forced to seek shelter in caverns from the storms screaming through the wilds,
all to pass one long night after the next. But these caverns, like the
mountains, extracted payment from these vagrants. Countless were the tribes who
lost kin to the wastes through which they stumbled blind.

Valiant Tequil and his kindhearted brother Rimac were born to one such tribe.

At the hour of their birth, a long, troubling night reigned inside and outside
the caves, and though the campfires around which the tribespeople sat flickered,
none were comforted by their light. The people thought: "This fire shall soon
go out, and once it does, we too shall be finished!" "How long will this night
last? I'm cold... and hungry too..." "Let's hurry things up then! Quickly, let
me walk into the night! Better that than this torment." "Oh, you poor
children... You poor, poor children..."

Yet Tequil and Rimac did not announce themselves with sorrowful cries as other
children did. Instead, Tequil stared into the cavern depths. The minions of the
cavern did their best to frighten him, but his gaze swept over them, keen as a
sharp stone spur. "He has seen us, our sharp claws and long teeth, but he is
not afraid!" The wicked creatures whispered amongst themselves anxiously, and
involuntarily retracted said appendages.

Rimac for his part waved his hands and laughed, and his laughter was like
pebbles tumbling in a stream, drawing the eyes of all the distressed
tribespeople to his face. Only then did they notice that though the flame
wavered, it had never ceased to burn, and with another wave of his hands, Rimac
patted the firewood next to him.

"Feed the flame! Feed the flame!" The elderly chief, thus reminded by the
newborn boy, shouted his words aloud, repelling the fear that had been about to
swallow the tribe whole.

People stood and fueled the fire, and they drew their obsidian blades, casting
their eyes into the cavern depths just as Tequil had.

The beasts of the cavern were filled with rage and hate, but they knew that
these people would not loosen their grip on their weapons, nor would their eyes
be shut. Terror had already fled, and so death was forced to retreat.

Only when the sun rose again did the brothers close their eyes, falling asleep
in their mother's bosom.

Thus did the tribespeople depart the cave, having lived another day. These
people, who had rejected fear, would live countless days more.

Yet the defeat of her evil underlings caught the eye of their master, Coatlicue.
For this lord of demons, who claimed to be the mother of the underworld and
mistress of ten thousand times ten thousand caves, whose fangs were the rocky
stalactites, whose tongue was every blast of wet, frigid wind, and who upon
awakening could only be satiated by devouring ten thousand living souls — Tequil
and Rimac were the first humans to slip her grasp. Shamefaced, this earth
mother waved her hand, lashing the evil beasts cowering to the side with rock.
"Go! Go! Redeem your humiliating failure! Capture those dimwitted mortals and
fill my stomach!"

But having seen their fears vanquished, the people remembered well the methods
of scattering those terrors time after time.

They settled at the foot of the mountains, sharpened wooden stakes, lit fires,
and gave the sharpest blades to their best warriors, with which they would stand
guard behind the stakes. Their bright eyes pierced the wilderness beyond the
firelight, and did not shift their gazes away for even a moment.

By blade and fire did Coatlicue's minions taste defeat time after time, until
they could do nothing but huddle in the dark, daring not to draw near the flame.

The fires in the hearts of the people ignited, and they began to speak of
victory, of light, and of the end of the viper — they believed in Tequil and
Rimac. These two brothers could surely keep the heat and light alive.

Tequil and Rimac thought the same, and so they sharpened their spears and
blades, preparing to drive the demon lord of that evil serpent to her doom.

But the earth mother, who hated this tribe, did not relent. She took sludge
from the deepest parts of the cave and pinched it into a snake. Then, she
plucked out her eye, setting it into the serpent's eye socket. "It was that
child who caused you to witness the fire, and so, let me go and swallow his
eyes."

One evening, when the sun had just set, night's veil was slowly covering the
sky, and the stars had yet to begin granting their light, the serpent bit and
slew a rabbit beyond the tribe's bounds, and burrowed into its skin, lying flat
on the ground.

Rimac, returning from gathering herbs, came upon this rabbit, and seeing its
wound, the kind child put his torch down without hesitation, and reaching for
his herbs, he chewed on them, preparing to apply them to the rabbit. But the
snake, speaking for the earth mother, leaped from the wound, hissing laughter:

"Hahaha, ignorant, foolish human! Sacrificing yourself for a lowly rabbit!"

Before Rimac could retrieve his torch, the earth mother's serpent latched its
fangs first onto his neck, then, burrowing into his body, captured his heart and
soul both.

The defenseless sentries were the next to be murdered by the earth mother, for
they greeted Rimac just as they always did when he returned from gathering
herbs, only to be pierced through the heart by the serpent, dying on the spot.
The entire tribe's fires were put out, and amidst the shroud of darkness, death
and terror were resurgent.

The earth mother spat the snake out, and through poisoned fangs she cried out:
"Behold! Behold, you arrogant fools, and kneel as you should in the dust!"

But the sound of a rock being struck cut her off, for Tequil, who had been
sharpening his obsidian blade, used it to create sparks that set his tent
alight.

He raised his blade and charged forward, letting fly his blade at the earth
mother's messenger. The blazing edge cleaved the poisoned serpent molded from
soil with ease, but as Tequil was about to follow through, he saw his brother's
eyes and the blood staining his brother's hands.

That instant was all the time the wounded viper needed to escape. Yet nigh fully
charred it was still, and the earth mother's eye reduced almost to ashes.

This tribe was destroyed, and never again was there a chance it would dare defy
her.

Thus did the earth mother comfort herself as she retreated into the darkness.
How Tequil wished to call out Rimac's name! But the burning dust caught in his
throat, and so he could only watch as his brother vanished into the night.

When the night at last passed, Tequil, who stood amidst the ruins, knew that the
surviving tribespeople could no longer stay. Burying his confusion and pain deep
in his heart, he led them on a new journey.

They crossed mountains and canyons, dodging fearsome beasts and poisonous
insects. Tequil did not close his eyes for so long as they journeyed, nor did he
dare to loosen his grip on blade or torch.

Finally, by a silent volcano, they found a tribe willing to take them in.

Only after he saw the last of his tribe peacefully fall into slumber under the
old shaman's care did he relax and collapse to the earth.

When he awoke, he found himself in a blazing cave. The lava that surrounded him
undulated with an erratic pulse, as if the very mountain was slowly breathing.
When he stood up, the lava boiled and bubbled, and a rumbling came from all
directions:

"Do not search for your brother. His eyes have been devoured by a cunning
serpent." "But I must save him, and pursue that venomous snake also!"

His words echoed through the cave, but the Goddess of Mountains and Fire was
silent. Tequil thus prayed unto her: "Let my brother's name live on. I am
willing to sacrifice my heart and blood in return." The goddess answered him in
the echoing cave. Thus said she: "Your prayer have I heard, but your brother is
no longer your kin. His name has sunken into the deepest of depths." Tequil
raised his head and lifted up his wish to the goddess: "Turn my blood to fire,
so my heart may illuminate the depths. I will bring my brother back before my
blood runs dry." "Turn my blood to fire, until my soul may sear and slay that
serpent. I will take its head before my blood runs dry."

When Tequil awoke once again, the old shaman of the tribe gave him a brand-new
sword, food, and water. Finally, the shaman clasped his shoulders and blessed
him: "May your fire dry the venomous snake's venom."

Thus did Tequil embark on another journey. His strength was endless, his body
tireless, and his blood burned like lava. He crossed grassy fields and snowy
peaks, deep valleys and high mountains, and the Goddess of Mountains and Fire
showed him the way with falling rocks and the cracks in cliffs. Thus did Tequil
stride forward without hesitation.

When he met his brother again, the earth mother mocked him once more using
Rimac's body and voice, but when her claws pierced Tequil's chest, he moved not,
and instead her bones were melted by his burning blood. Tequil stared the
vicious demon lord down, and said in a loud voice: "My brother is gentle of
heart. He would surely have made this land a better place." "Yet you have
affronted him with your poison, smothered his virtue, slaughtered those who had
faith in his virtue!" "Die, you despicable, venomous insect! Die here!" As he
roared, Tequil's blood stained his obsidian blade, turning it red-hot in an
instant. The earth mother watched in terror as her shell, bones, and soul were
sundered. She wished to scream, to buy but a moment in which she could unleash
her claws and tear Tequil to ribbons. But she could make no sound, for in the
fire's light, the silent soul to whom this body once belonged awakened. And that
soul cried out to his brother: "I do not wish to see your blood be reduced to
ash, but I have seen the light of your heart and spirit. Remember my name,
brother. As long as you remember me, I will never have left."

The blazing flames swept over every corner in that gloomy, frigid cavern, and
every last poisonous insect within was slain, burned to ash alongside every plot
and scheme, so heinous and vile. As the last drop of his blood was about to
burn away, the roof of the cave above Tequil's head trembled. A fissure opened,
and a gem fell down and stopped up his wound. The Goddess of Mountains and Fire
spoke once more, and her voice echoed across the walls: "You yet have one drop
of blood. Return to your tribe, for this is your brother's wish, and I will see
it fulfilled."

One night, the old shaman who had waited day after day beyond the tribe's bounds
stood to welcome the returning Tequil. But Tequil refused the water, the food,
and the cheers. Instead, he simply said: "The venomous snake is slain, and I am
victorious. But I shall soon depart along with my brother."

He took the gem from his chest, placed it upon a torch, and walked up to the
silent volcano. "I have but one drop of blood left, but it was not left for me,
but rather, for justice and fairness, for the good and the brave." "Use it, and
light a fire — a flame that shall never be extinguished."

Having said that, valiant Tequil leaped into the dead volcano. The earth was
shaken by his heart and blood, and the volcano's own heart resumed beating, the
blazing lava once more beginning to flow. The volcano lives — as does the
bravery of all the tribes.

Spanking New Copy

This tale comes from the desolate, distant past. In those days, the mountains'
teeth were still bared like blades against man and beast, thirsting for the
souls of the feeble-minded, human and nonhuman alike. People knew that the god
of the mountains loved them not, and was to be given a wide berth. Yet they were
forced to seek shelter in caverns from the storms screaming through the wilds,
all to pass one long night after the next. But these caverns, like the
mountains, extracted payment from these vagrants. Countless were the tribes who
lost kin to the wastes through which they stumbled blind.

Valiant Tequil and his kindhearted brother Rimac were born to one such tribe.

At the hour of their birth, a long, troubling night reigned inside and outside
the caves, and though the campfires around which the tribespeople sat flickered,
none were comforted by their light. The people thought: "This fire shall soon
go out, and once it does, we too shall be finished!" "How long will this night
last? I'm cold... and hungry too..." "Let's hurry things up then! Quickly, let
me walk into the night! Better that than this torment." "Oh, you poor
children... You poor, poor children..."

Yet Tequil and Rimac did not announce themselves with sorrowful cries as other
children did. Instead, Tequil stared into the cavern depths. The minions of the
cavern did their best to frighten him, but his gaze swept over them, keen as a
sharp stone spur. "He has seen us, our sharp claws and long teeth, but he is
not afraid!" The wicked creatures whispered amongst themselves anxiously, and
involuntarily retracted said appendages.

Rimac for his part waved his hands and laughed, and his laughter was like
pebbles tumbling in a stream, drawing the eyes of all the distressed
tribespeople to his face. Only then did they notice that though the flame
wavered, it had never ceased to burn, and with another wave of his hands, Rimac
patted the firewood next to him.

"Feed the flame! Feed the flame!" The elderly chief, thus reminded by the
newborn boy, shouted his words aloud, repelling the fear that had been about to
swallow the tribe whole.

People stood and fueled the fire, and they drew their obsidian blades, casting
their eyes into the cavern depths just as Tequil had.

The beasts of the cavern were filled with rage and hate, but they knew that
these people would not loosen their grip on their weapons, nor would their eyes
be shut. Terror had already fled, and so death was forced to retreat.

Only when the sun rose again did the brothers close their eyes, falling asleep
in their mother's bosom.

Thus did the tribespeople depart the cave, having lived another day. These
people, who had rejected fear, would live countless days more.

Yet the defeat of her evil underlings caught the eye of their master, Coatlicue.
For this lord of demons, who claimed to be the mother of the underworld and
mistress of ten thousand times ten thousand caves, whose fangs were the rocky
stalactites, whose tongue was every blast of wet, frigid wind, and who upon
awakening could only be satiated by devouring ten thousand living souls — Tequil
and Rimac were the first humans to slip her grasp. Shamefaced, this earth
mother waved her hand, lashing the evil beasts cowering to the side with rock.
"Go! Go! Redeem your humiliating failure! Capture those dimwitted mortals and
fill my stomach!"

But having seen their fears vanquished, the people remembered well the methods
of scattering those terrors time after time.

They settled at the foot of the mountains, sharpened wooden stakes, lit fires,
and gave the sharpest blades to their best warriors, with which they would stand
guard behind the stakes. Their bright eyes pierced the wilderness beyond the
firelight, and did not shift their gazes away for even a moment.

By blade and fire did Coatlicue's minions taste defeat time after time, until
they could do nothing but huddle in the dark, daring not to draw near the flame.

The fires in the hearts of the people ignited, and they began to speak of
victory, of light, and of the end of the viper — they believed in Tequil and
Rimac. These two brothers could surely keep the heat and light alive.

Tequil and Rimac thought the same, and so they sharpened their spears and
blades, preparing to drive the demon lord of that evil serpent to her doom.

But the earth mother, who hated this tribe, did not relent. She took sludge
from the deepest parts of the cave and pinched it into a snake. Then, she
plucked out her eye, setting it into the serpent's eye socket. "It was that
child who caused you to witness the fire, and so, let me go and swallow his
eyes."

One evening, when the sun had just set, night's veil was slowly covering the
sky, and the stars had yet to begin granting their light, the serpent bit and
slew a rabbit beyond the tribe's bounds, and burrowed into its skin, lying flat
on the ground.

Rimac, returning from gathering herbs, came upon this rabbit, and seeing its
wound, the kind child put his torch down without hesitation, and reaching for
his herbs, he chewed on them, preparing to apply them to the rabbit. But the
snake, speaking for the earth mother, leaped from the wound, hissing laughter:

"Hahaha, ignorant, foolish human! Sacrificing yourself for a lowly rabbit!"

Before Rimac could retrieve his torch, the earth mother's serpent latched its
fangs first onto his neck, then, burrowing into his body, captured his heart and
soul both.

The defenseless sentries were the next to be murdered by the earth mother, for
they greeted Rimac just as they always did when he returned from gathering
herbs, only to be pierced through the heart by the serpent, dying on the spot.
The entire tribe's fires were put out, and amidst the shroud of darkness, death
and terror were resurgent.

The earth mother spat the snake out, and through poisoned fangs she cried out:
"Behold! Behold, you arrogant fools, and kneel as you should in the dust!"

But the sound of a rock being struck cut her off, for Tequil, who had been
sharpening his obsidian blade, used it to create sparks that set his tent
alight.

He raised his blade and charged forward, letting fly his blade at the earth
mother's messenger. The blazing edge cleaved the poisoned serpent molded from
soil with ease, but as Tequil was about to follow through, he saw his brother's
eyes and the blood staining his brother's hands.

That instant was all the time the wounded viper needed to escape. Yet nigh fully
charred it was still, and the earth mother's eye reduced almost to ashes.

This tribe was destroyed, and never again was there a chance it would dare defy
her.

Thus did the earth mother comfort herself as she retreated into the darkness.
How Tequil wished to call out Rimac's name! But the burning dust caught in his
throat, and so he could only watch as his brother vanished into the night.

When the night at last passed, Tequil, who stood amidst the ruins, knew that the
surviving tribespeople could no longer stay. Burying his confusion and pain deep
in his heart, he led them on a new journey.

They crossed mountains and canyons, dodging fearsome beasts and poisonous
insects. Tequil did not close his eyes for so long as they journeyed, nor did he
dare to loosen his grip on blade or torch.

Finally, by a silent volcano, they found a tribe willing to take them in.

Only after he saw the last of his tribe peacefully fall into slumber under the
old shaman's care did he relax and collapse to the earth.

When he awoke, he found himself in a blazing cave. The lava that surrounded him
undulated with an erratic pulse, as if the very mountain was slowly breathing.
When he stood up, the lava boiled and bubbled, and a rumbling came from all
directions:

"Do not search for your brother. His eyes have been devoured by a cunning
serpent." "But I must save him, and pursue that venomous snake also!"

His words echoed through the cave, but the Goddess of Mountains and Fire was
silent. Tequil thus prayed unto her: "Let my brother's name live on. I am
willing to sacrifice my heart and blood in return." The goddess answered him in
the echoing cave. Thus said she: "Your prayer have I heard, but your brother is
no longer your kin. His name has sunken into the deepest of depths." Tequil
raised his head and lifted up his wish to the goddess: "Turn my blood to fire,
so my heart may illuminate the depths. I will bring my brother back before my
blood runs dry." "Turn my blood to fire, until my soul may sear and slay that
serpent. I will take its head before my blood runs dry."

When Tequil awoke once again, the old shaman of the tribe gave him a brand-new
sword, food, and water. Finally, the shaman clasped his shoulders and blessed
him: "May your fire dry the venomous snake's venom."

Thus did Tequil embark on another journey. His strength was endless, his body
tireless, and his blood burned like lava. He crossed grassy fields and snowy
peaks, deep valleys and high mountains, and the Goddess of Mountains and Fire
showed him the way with falling rocks and the cracks in cliffs. Thus did Tequil
stride forward without hesitation.

When he met his brother again, the earth mother mocked him once more using
Rimac's body and voice, but when her claws pierced Tequil's chest, he moved not,
and instead her bones were melted by his burning blood. Tequil stared the
vicious demon lord down, and said in a loud voice: "My brother is gentle of
heart. He would surely have made this land a better place." "Yet you have
affronted him with your poison, smothered his virtue, slaughtered those who had
faith in his virtue!" "Die, you despicable, venomous insect! Die here!" As he
roared, Tequil's blood stained his obsidian blade, turning it red-hot in an
instant. The earth mother watched in terror as her shell, bones, and soul were
sundered. She wished to scream, to buy but a moment in which she could unleash
her claws and tear Tequil to ribbons. But she could make no sound, for in the
fire's light, the Goddess of Mountains and Fire opened one eye, causing a silent
soul to whom this body once belonged to awaken and grasp the snake by the neck.
The goddess cried out: "You vile snake, you wicked shade, be driven out by the
light, as you should!" The blazing flames swept over every corner in that
gloomy, frigid cavern, and every last poisonous insect within was slain, burned
to ash alongside every plot and scheme, so heinous and vile. As the last drop
of his blood was about to burn away, the roof of the hole above Tequil's head
trembled. A fissure opened, and a gem fell down and stopped up his wound. The
falling rocks, too, formed a body for the soul that had been bitten by the
serpent. The Goddess of Mountains and Fire spoke once more, and her voice
echoed across the walls: "I have seen your heart and blood, and I shall give of
my own. Go back now, return to your tribe with your brother." "Yet this heart
and blood shall not be left for you, but rather, for justice and fairness, for
the good and the brave."

One night, the old shaman who had waited day after day beyond the tribe's bounds
stood to welcome the returning Tequil and his brother Rimac. They took the
offered water and food, and said: "The venomous snake is slain, and we are
victorious." "But our hearts and blood do not remain for us, but rather, for
justice and fairness, for the good and the brave." "Light the fire. Together we
shall stand, and ensure that the flame is never extinguished."