The celebrations for the Spring Festival started early. The entire hacienda was agog with excitement at seeing Sergio use his godly gifts and worship him even more than they did year round.
Noelle was alone watching from the sidelines since Lucero had been ordered to help set up the outer courtyard so it could accommodate all of the villagers that would be joining for the holiday.
With everyone so busy, it meant that Noelle’s actions were not as scrutinized so she could accomplish the first part of her plan.
She’d grinned the shrooms she’d stolen to a fine powder, and the next step was to dump it into the stew that would be served to all the guests. She was still a little wary of the dosages, but from what she’d been able to research, if she gave them slightly too much, they would just hallucinate for longer.
She didn’t necessarily care how much they hallucinated as long as they did.
The opportunity arose the night before the celebration when the kitchen was left unattended.
Given the quantity of stew the cooks had had to prepare, they’d cooked everything the day before and had left the pots in the main kitchen. It was infinitely easy for Noelle to sneak inside and heat them up while stirring the ground shrooms inside until the contents became homogeneous.
With that part out of the way, she needed to prepare for her following step.
For months, she’d practiced the words in the ancient language with Lucero’s help and she was sure she would succeed. But while she’d thought of all the details, there was still the element of surprise.
She would be putting on the performance of her lifetime, and she would be doing it in front of Sergio and his faithful villagers, which made it the ultimate risk. If it didn’t work according to plan… She was going to die.
She knew that. Lucero knew that.
She either succeeded in her ruse, or she would die for it—there was no in-between.
Yet her life was at risk for every moment she breathed in his foreign land. Whether she died by her own folly or because Sergio caught her unawares, she knew the end would still be death.
Now, if she succeeded… That was another story altogether.
If she managed to pull off her plan, she would not only get away with her life intact, but she was sure that everyone would give her the same reverence they gave Sergio, if not more.
She would finally have…power.
Was it for power that she was doing all this, or was it merely for survival? Noelle had asked herself that question numerous times as she prepared for the Spring Festival.
Deep down, she knew she could have found other ways—would have likely been able to contact her family if she tried enough. But a part of her didn’t want to.
She wanted to succeed on her own. She wanted to achieve power on her own. Because at the end of the day what was it to her if she returned to her family? She would still be just as powerless, her life not her own, her choices nonexistent.
At least this way, whether she lived or died would have been her own choice.
She would have had the power to decide—something she hadn’t had the luxury of many times in her life.
And if it worked… She was certain she would be one step closer to finding her Blue.
The months might have passed. The seasons might have changed. But her heart remained the same.
Still hurting. Still yearning. Still…loving.
Blue never strayed far from her thoughts for she always imagined what he would say or do in a certain situation. He was in her dreams, both at night and during the day.
He simply…was one with her.
On the one hand, it gave her the necessary strength to plan and plot, to wait and bide her time. But it also made the chasm inside her heart deepen every time she realized she still did not know how he was—if he was still alive.
Despite that, Noelle lied to herself.
She convinced herself he was still alive, thinking of her just as she thought of him. She convinced herself that one way or another, she would find him and he would fall for her as he’d been meant to from the beginning.
It didn’t matter if it was delusional—if even Lucero thought her mad for entertaining such thoughts about someone she’d never once talked to in real life.
Maybe she was mad. Maybe she didn’t want to be anything other than mad.
Because at least she still had him.
The more she found herself in conflict with her daily life, the more she relied on her dreams—that land she could only visit at night but which she could tailor perfectly to her liking. And there, her Blue—Rafaelo as she’d call him affectionately if they were face to face—was hers and hers alone.
How many times had she dreamed about him holding her, kissing her, making love to her? How many times she’d snuggled into her pillow, inhaling deeply as if she could recreate his scent?
She wasn’t ashamed to admit she spent her days half a ghost because her nights were consumed by thoughts of him. If she wasn’t plotting her next move, she was imagining how her future would look like with him.
Lucero had been very frank with her.
“I don’t know how you could trust another man after El Señor.”
“Blue isn’t just any other man,” she’d replied, almost offended. “He’s…the kindest, most thoughtful person. Not all men are like this, Lucero,” she’d told her friend, knowing her own experiences had soured her completely towards the opposite sex.
“But…wouldn’t you be scared that he…”
“He would never raise a hand against me.”
Lucero had refrained from questioning her assurance considering she didn’t know the real him. Instead, she’d confessed that she didn’t believe there were good men. All her life she’d never met one who didn’t want to either rape her or abuse her.
Noelle could certainly understand her point of view.
But Blue was Blue. And she was absolutely certain that he would never do anything against her wishes.
That had been their last conversation on the topic since Lucero had seen that Noelle was unyielding when it came to her Blue. Instead, she’d quietly supported her.
But that was Lucero. She was quite possibly the purest person Noelle had ever met. And despite her naiveté that was so contrary to their battle for survival, Noelle didn’t want to see her lose the core of who she was. For that reason alone, she’d promised herself that she would never force Lucero out of her comfort zone, preferring to keep quiet about the more morally questionable matters. After all, if she found out, Lucero would involve herself simply to help Noelle—even if it went against everything she believed in.
Noelle didn’t want that. She was already gone, so she wasn’t worried about herself. But Lucero could still hold onto her humanity for longer.
“The ceremony will start in an hour,” Lucero’s voice made Noelle turn her head towards the door of her room.
“I’m ready,” she nodded, tying the traditional belt around her waist.
She did her best to conceal the small bags she’d attached to the body underneath the clothes, for that was to be the main attraction of the show.
“It has to work,” Lucero said as she neared her side to help her put on the headdress.
Noelle noted the difference in her wording. Usually, she would ask her if it would work, not that it had to work.
“It will,” she assured her. “I have this. By the end of the day, Sergio will kneel to me,” she said, determination dripping from every syllable.
Looking at her reflection in the mirror, Noelle saw the same conviction shine bright in her eyes, just as she noted her different appearance. It had nothing to do with the traditional clothing she was wearing. Rather, it had everything to do with who she’d become—the person she’d transformed to be able to come to this point.
It hadn’t been easy.
She would be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about what she was about to do countless times, knowing she was either going towards her salvation, or her death. Such thoughts tended to change a person, whether they wanted to or not.
But that was another lesson she had to learn.
With the power to choose also came the responsibility for one’s choice.
“Let’s do this,” she nodded.
Lucero lent Noelle her arm as they slowly made their way to the courtyard. She had to be careful to not disturb her outfit and make sure she didn’t burst any of the bags underneath before the time was right.
Music blasted through the air, together with the sound of people talking loudly and singing along.
Together, all the villages were composed of some hundreds of people—all present today to see Sergio do his yearly sacrifice.
Yet by this point, they must have already been served the stew, the psychedelic slowly seeping into their systems and getting them ready for what Noelle had in mind.
“Sergio won’t even know what hit him,” she joked as they hid in a corner, waiting for Sergio to make his debut onto the makeshift stage that had been built in the middle of the courtyard.
“I can’t wait to see his face when he realizes what’s happening,” Lucero chuckled.
“Is everything else ready, too?”
Lucero nodded.
“I released all the horses from the stables. When they hear the sound, they will panic and run around.”
“Good. What about the other thing I asked you?”
“It wasn’t easy,” Lucero pursed her lips. “But I managed to attach it to his belt. Luckily he’d had two bowls of stew so his aim wasn’t very good.”
“Tell me he didn’t grope you.”
“He wanted to. Didn’t succeed.”
“Good.”
“You still haven’t told me what you mean to do with that,” Lucero frowned.
“It’s better you don’t know until the moment is right,” Noelle smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes.
Lucero pursed her lips but she didn’t say anything more. Instead, she just handed Noelle the basket with the goods.
“They aren’t poisonous, so don’t worry too much.”
“They can still strangle me to death,” Noelle joked.
“I don’t think it’s the time to think of such scenarios.”
“You’re right,” Noelle sighed. “Just look at him,” she nodded towards the stage.
There were two bands playing. One on the right side of the stage and the other on the left side.
Sergio was garbed in a colorful tunic held together by a gold band. He had an ostentatious headdress on—a symbol of his status. And as he walked among the villagers, they all knelt before him, blessing him and thanking him for all he’d done for the region.
Some women wept. Others fainted from being so close to the god. The men, too, sported a perpetual expression of awe as their knees trembled.
Noelle’s lips curled in disdain as she watched the way Sergio preened at the adoration coming his way. And that’s how she knew that it wasn’t all about the money, or the authority to conduct his business as he pleased. No, it all came down to his ego being constantly fed with this obscene veneration.
“It’s starting,” Lucero whispered as the music suddenly changed to a quieter melody.
“Bienvenido a todos,” Sergio’s voice boomed as he spoke into the microphone.
“I’m surprised he didn’t require you on the stage, too,” her friend commented.
“I’m not. He knows how much the people dislike me and he wants to keep it this way. If he had invited me there, it would have meant he was acknowledging me publicly, and that’s the last thing he wanted.”
“You know,” Lucero licked her lips, her head tilted to the side. “There’s something that I just don’t understand.”
“What is it?” Noelle turned towards her.
“If you ignore what you did to him on the wedding night, why was he so adamant to marry you—an outsider? He would have known the people wouldn’t take well to you, as they are doing right now.”
“I’m not sure. From what I heard, Sergio insisted on the wedding. Although…” she paused, her brows knit together as a scene from months ago came to mind.
She’d laid on the floor, bleeding, while Sergio had paced around the room in a fit of anger. He’d muttered something about his plans going to shit because of her—that he’d promised something that he couldn’t deliver.
It had been only later that she’d found out Sergio, embodying his full godly persona years back, had made a prediction about his future wife—an outsider who would bring forth change.
“I think he wanted to use me,” Noelle said pensively.
“Use you?”
Noelle briefly recounted what she’d heard.
“I think he planned to change things around but he didn’t know how to legitimize his ideas.”
“So he pretended it was a divine prophecy?” Lucero snorted.
“It might be why everyone hates me so much. What if he didn’t specify what change, and now the people think I’ve come to destroy everything?”
Lucero pursed her lips, muling over the information for a moment.
“It could be. El Señor could tell them anything and they would believe it. He could even…”
They both turned towards each other at the same time, their eyes widening in stark realization.
Sergio didn’t need to do anything to Noelle—not with his own hands. He only needed to insinuate that she was a pest, and the villagers would take care of her.
Wouldn’t that be perfect for him? If a mob suddenly trampled over Noelle and killed her accidentally?
Right at that moment, Sergio’s voice boomed in the air, his words echoing her thoughts.
“Creo que han visto que nuestra tierra ha sido invadida. Que tenemos a nuestros lados la personificación del diablo. Y hoy, estoy aquí para mostrárselo que los voy a proteger como lo he hecho durante decades. Hoy, nos enfrentaremos juntos a esta plaga y vamos a enterar este desgraciado capítulo de nuestras vidas. Ahora…”
“The motherfucker…” Noelle muttered. “I need to act. Fast.”
“But Noelle… They just ate. Don’t they need more time for the drug to act?”
“I can’t let him make me public enemy number one,” she said determinately. “Be ready to sound the alarm on my command.”
Before Lucero could say anything else, Noelle took over the lid off the basket, reaching inside and wrapping her hands around the serpent’s body as she carefully draped it around her shoulders. And taking a step forward, she pushed her chin up in defiance as she prepared for the craziest moment in her life.
Let the show begin.
Noelle slowly made her way through the crowd, and upon seeing her, people stepped out of her way, a clear path appearing between her and the stage.
Everyone was talking in hushed tones, but among their chatter, Noelle recognized the signs of the drug taking effect.
Some thought she was a stranger. Others believed her to be an apparition. Some even claimed she was a goddess as they saw the snake slithering on her shoulders.
She straightened her back as she brought her hands to the buttons of her tunic, slowly unbuttoning them and letting the material fall to the ground. In the process, the bags she’d sown on the inside of the cloth burst, red liquid dripping down her naked body.
Her clothes slowly pooled at her feet, her only cover the animal blood that draped her from head to toe.
Gasps erupted in the crowd, people’s eyes bulging in their heads as they stared at her.
She walked sensuously towards the stage, the white snake hissing and baring its fangs to the people on the side.
Suddenly, some dropped to their knees, a prayer on their lips. Others, swooned and crossed themselves—perchance hoping that christianity would give them an answer.
Noelle smiled furtively as she realized they were seeing her as she had wished.
Through the lens of the psychedelic, they didn’t see a small woman covered in blood. They saw a graceful creature being born from blood, walking proudly towards the stage with her faithful reptilian companion.
The music stopped.
Sergio stared at her unblinkingly. He couldn’t even mask his shock as he took her in.
“What is the meaning of this?” He gritted out at her, noticing from the corner of his eyes how people were reacting to Noelle.
“¿Cómo me hablas así, hijo?” She asked in a clear tone, her accent flawless.
Sergio’s mouth dropped open, as did everyone else’s.
“Hijo?” He repeated.
“No me digas que no me reconoces en este cuerpo.”
Whispers floated in the air. Though the drug distorted people’s perceptions of what they were seeing, it didn’t fully inhibit their understanding.
Everyone heard what she’d said.
Son.
She’d called Sergio son.
But how could she do that, unless…
“Tōnacācihuātl! Someone suddenly yelled.
The name echoed through the crowd, everyone joining in a choir.
“Tōnacācihuātl?” Sergio sneered.
“Asi me tratas?” She tilted her head, keeping her composure as she looked him dead in the eye.
Screams. Prayers. Chants.
The entire yard was agog with reactions, some stronger and more vocal than others. Yet at first sight, Noelle could see that the combination of her appearance and the drug they’d imbibed had the intended effect.
They no longer saw her as Noelle—the abandoned wife, the outsider.
Now she was just a vassal for Tōnacācihuātl.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, Noelle?” Sergio snapped as he climbed down the stage, striding towards her, murderous rage oozing from him.
Fernando was following closely behind, his expression closed off as he awaited Sergio’s orders.
Noelle’s gaze dipped to his belt, an insidious smile pulling at her lips.
As Sergio stopped in front of her, she realized she didn’t even mind her lack of clothing anymore, the blood giving her a power unlike any other. Like a drape over her body, it hugged her skin, providing an immortal armor between her and the world. And in the eyes of the world, she was just that—timeless, immortal.
Unnatural.
“What do you think I’m doing?” She murmured softly, the words only for his ears.
Looking right and left, she raised her arms in the air, more drops of blood falling to the ground.
At the same time, one by one, more people knelt down in front of her.
“What the fuck,” Sergio burst out, grabbing her hand in a bruising hold.
Noelle bit down against the pain, her body recognizing danger as it had become too inured to Sergio’s revenge sessions. It took everything within her not to give in—roll to the ground into a fetus position to avoid being hit.
She raised her gaze, brazenly looking at him.
He can’t hurt me, she told herself. Now, more than ever, he couldn’t hurt her in front of everyone.
“I’m here for one reason and one reason only,” she smiled smugly. “Payback,” she whispered.
Right at that moment, she squeezed her fist, clicking the small transmitter she’d hidden.
The countdown began.
“Tu,” she said as she wrenched her arm from Sergio, taking a step back as she pointed towards Fernando.
Counting the seconds, she backed further and further away until the time was almost upon her.
“La muerte vino por ti,” her voice thundered ominously.
Fernando’s eyes narrowed in question while Sergio’s widened in alarm.
He barely managed to take a step away from Fernando when his body exploded from the waist up. Pieces of bone and flesh flew through the air, blood splattering among the crowd and spilling onto the ground.
Noelle’s gaze went to the house and she gave a harsh nod—her signal to Lucero.
In no time, animals started running around the hacienda, the thumping of the horses blasting through the air. They were all running amok, surrounding the crowd of people, with some cutting through it. Yet through all of this, no one moved. They might have been alarmed, but their faith kept them rooted to the spot.
Despite the mass hysteria the animals should have caused, the people were still on their knees, watching Noelle with awe in their eyes, her goddess name on their lips as they intoned that she’d come to save them.
Too bad, though, that she’d only come to damn them.
And Sergio was the first one on Noelle’s list.
