As you lie with your head in a daze.
The world spins and you wish to just laze.
Your throat yearns for a refreshing drink.
Your body is not in control and you can't think.
La Cruda.
Just another victim to fermentation's gift.
Self restraint is why your head you cannot lift.
Euphoria comes in waves as you enjoy the music in your drunken haze.
Learn your lessons or stay stuck in the same ol phase.
Always mind your health.
Death comes for true wealth.
Kamelotl felt as though he were drifting along a river once again. His head spun like currents pulling him toward a whirlpool, dragging him from the mouth of a cenote down into the depths of the underworld.
When his eyes finally opened, the world was blurred and distant, as though wrapped in a layer of fog. Sounds came muffled, as if he were still half-submerged beneath water.
He tried to gather his thoughts, but the moment he forced himself upright his face plunged into something… soft.
Fluffy.
The sensation startled him enough that he jerked backward. Confusion surged through him as he leaned back on his arms and took a long breath, closing his eyes.
Moist air filled his lungs.
His gills fluttered instinctively, drinking in the dampness. Yet something about the sensation felt strange, as though the moisture was being drawn through fabric.
Through a net.
A mesh.
His eyes snapped open.
"Mesh…" he muttered hoarsely.
Then his memories started to return all at once.
Like a flood breaking through a cracked dam.
Everything that had happened after the arc.
The memories flashed through his mind one after another until they reached the moment he had closed his eyes in dizziness.
Then—
Butterflies.
"Lord Xochipilli… is here!" he blurted as he suddenly sat upright.
His excitement lasted only a moment before his face slammed straight back into the same fluffy mass as before.
"Oof!"
He paused.
"Wait… it's not my face that's buried in the fluff," he muttered. "It's my mask."
"Yes… now I remember."
He rubbed his head slowly.
"I'm in a strange place that made me feel even stranger. Lord Xochipilli called this feeling… being hungover."
Only then did he realize his legs felt unusually heavy.
Curiosity got the better of him, so he carefully slid his legs out from beneath the… thing weighing them down.
Except it wasn't just one thing.
It was several.
Creatures had piled together in a tangled heap, apparently sleeping away the effects of their intoxication.
Bunnies.
Monkeys.
Possums.
Snakes all jumbled together, somehow they hadn't gotten their tails caught together.
As he lifted one leg free, his mind began humming a little tune while he counted the critters sharing the nest with him. He had to cease his humming, once the headache started to kick in again. Even worse was the thirst he felt, like his whole body ached from dehydration.
Some ocelots snored softly near the edge, their spotted bodies curled like lazy suns. Coyotes lay on their backs nearby, paws in the air and tongues hanging loose as though they had laughed themselves unconscious.
Birds fluttered in and out of the nest, perching along the rim as if taking turns napping so they wouldn't disturb the others.
There were birds of every kind.
From tiny hummingbirds either zooming back and forth…
…and turkey vultures hunched over like old men snoozing by a fire having fallen asleep halfway through narrating the story of their gods .
Parrots chirped in their sleep, as though they couldn't help mocking the creatures around them even in their dreams. Ravens clutched their spoils tightly in their claws, unwilling to surrender whatever treasures they had stolen during the night.
Owls lay on their backs with their wings sprawled wide, their feathers acting like blankets for creatures they would normally be hunting beneath moonlit skies.
There were quetzales perched gracefully atop what appeared to be an obsidian statue of a jaguar.
Kamelotl blinked.
He was fairly certain that statue hadn't been there the first time he opened his eyes.
"Well… it was only a brief moment," he murmured to himself. "And my mind wasn't exactly cooperating."
Carefully, he began climbing out of the nest, doing his best not to disturb the tangled pile of sleeping creatures.
He had just reached the edge when he suddenly felt something rushing toward his head.
Instinct took over.
He ducked.
A duck slammed into the rim of the nest with a dull thump, then bounced off Kamelotl's back like a feathered ball. It rolled across the nest before coming to a stop squarely atop a possum.
The possum's eyes slowly opened.
It stared at the duck.
Then, with dramatic commitment, it immediately played dead.
A moment later, however, it became clear that the creature had simply fallen asleep again. The duck had settled comfortably on its back, sleep had consumed it as well.
As he turned away from the absurdity unfolding behind him, he noticed one of the monkeys beginning to climb out of the nest. The creature swung lazily from its long arms, swaying back and forth as it made its way toward the rim.
With one final swing it hoisted itself over the edge and vanished from sight.
Kamelotl tilted his head.
"Well… I suppose there's only one way out."
His claws slid from his fingers with a faint scrape as he drove them into the woven vines of the nest and began climbing upward.
The moment he pulled himself over the edge and planted his foot on solid ground, something felt… wrong.
Or perhaps right.
He paused.
Then looked back.
The nest hadn't been enormous after all.
His body had been smaller.
As he stepped away from the rim, his limbs stretched, his shoulders broadened, and his full size returned in a slow, subtle expansion.
Realization dawned.
Everything that crossed into the nest became smaller.
The moment it stepped back out…
it returned to its true form.
He looked down at the sleeping animals piled together below.
The nest wasn't just a giant bed.
The space itself obeyed laws of their own making.
Finally he was able to look around and take notice of the room he was in.
Overwhelming.
Everything felt like a hazy dream, as though the world itself were moving in slow motion. He lifted his head and stared upward toward what he assumed was the ceiling.
Vines hung from above.
Or perhaps they grew from the ground.
Was he even standing on the ground?
The thought only deepened his confusion.
His mask was still in place and functioning properly, and through it he forced himself to focus on one thing at a time. Gradually, the truth began to settle in.
It wasn't that the world was moving slowly.
It was moving far too fast.
His eyes simply couldn't keep up with the speed of everything around him. That was what had left him so disoriented.
He blinked again, letting his vision adjust.
Only then did he realize he had been standing inside a kind of membrane formed by tangled vines. The blurred images he had been seeing were glimpses of movement passing through the gaps between the hanging strands.
Carefully, he stepped forward.
The vines parted around him like a curtain.
And when he emerged on the other side, he found himself standing in what appeared to be—
a marketplace.
Straight ahead within his sights were crowds walking with different items in their grasp. Jewelry, weapons, garments and armor, and most importantly of all—food.
He realized that his whole life had been spent in realms where he did not need substance to keep living. His body was still mortal and he still needed to consume in order to survive. Yet the effect of the gods' realms he had traversed had made it so he was living almost entirely off divine energy.
But with all these food items around him… he felt hunger for the first time in the entirety of his life.
Clutching his stomach, he pushed through the crowd walking along what appeared to be giant mushrooms that formed natural pathways through the marketplace.
He cut his way toward a vendor whose stall overflowed with steaming bowls and sizzling meats. As he approached, he dissolved his mask back into twisting branches that folded and merged into his fur. He stumbled through the crowd, sometimes tripping over his own feet. He finally made it to his destination in a trance like state.
The aroma struck his snout immediately.
His mouth flooded with saliva.
A low snarl escaped his throat as hunger overrode his manners.
"A bowl of food."
He looked up—
and found himself staring directly into the eyes of a duende.
"Oh shit."
The realization hit him instantly.
Duendes were famous for their tempers… and even more famous for their retaliation.
He scurried backward and bowed deeply.
"My deepest apologies," he said quickly. "I'm lost, hungry and confused. Lord Xochipilli has also informed me I'm… hungover… whatever that means. I'd like a bowl of food please."
When he said please his bow deepened and his ears lay flat on his head.
He looked back up at the duende with watery eyes.
The duende stared for a moment…
Then burst into laughter.
"Don't bow to me boy," the little vendor chuckled. "Any guest of Lord Xochipilli is an honored guest of mine."
He pulled out a cantarito, "Here young pup, water for that parched throat of yours."
Kamelotl greedily took it in his hands and drank so fast he ended up choking on it. Causing him to cough it out.
The duende chuckled and said "slow down lad."
He grabbed a clay bowl and began ladling a thick stew into it.
"Careful with this stew, boy. That's proper tlaltemolli. Chile broth, rabbit meat, maize… and escamoles from the roots of the maguey. Eat enough of it and even death loses its grip on you."
The duende pondered for a second.
"If you eat it too fast you can also land right into the hands of Lady Nine Grass herself. If you're lucky that is. Otherwise you could end up in Xibalba…"
He rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"I suppose if your life ends with delicious food, at least you'll die feeling fulfilled. Bah, do whatever pleases you young one. Enjoy the spices of life!"
The duende threw his hands in the air and brought them down like a bird flapping its wings.
"If you don't enjoy life as much as you can, one day you'll notice it flew away from you while your eyes chased a different view."
Satisfied with his own wisdom, he grabbed a small cantarito and took a swig.
"Aguamiel… ahhhhh now this is a proper refreshment."
He gestured toward the bowl.
"Go on youngin, enjoy your bowl. Stop letting this old one distract you."
Kamelotl lifted the bowl and took his first sip of the caldo.
Warmth spread through him instantly.
The back of his throat ignited as though smoke had been lit inside his mouth. Yet his tongue felt the opposite sensation — a strange burning numbness that crept from the tip inward.
For a moment he exhaled slowly…
…and could almost swear to the gods that he had just breathed fire.