EHYEH-ASHER-EHYEH (I AM THAT I AM): An Elena Duran/Corazon Negro
Vi Moreau (vmoreau@directvinternet.com)
Sat, 21 Sep 2002 13:30:35 -0400
Ehyeh-Asher-Ehyeh (I am that I am) 12.1/34
Julio Cesar divad72@prodigy.net.mx
Vi Moreau vmoreau@directvinternet.com
He put his machete in his belt, then removed his small flashlight from his
belt and sent the beam into the opening, concentrating only on their path
ahead. Elena, concerned also with what was around them, pulled her own
flashlight out of her backpack and moved the beam in circles. She could see
the stone floor in spite of the few pallid plants, which had struggled to
cover it. She could make out lavish paintings on the walls. The flashlight
hit great rich dark-skinned figures in golden clothes, some painted and some
carved against a backdrop of vivid blue. Above, as the walls rose to a
vaulted ceiling, she saw another procession against the deep shade of red.
The entire chamber seemed some fifty feet in length and her feeble light
struck a bit of greenery at the other end.
"What do they mean?" Elena asked as she marveled at the paintings.
Corazon Negro stopped to observe the walls. "Quetzalcohuatl's prophecies,"
he said looking at Elena. "Look at this one. It describes the coming of
Lilitu," his hand touched the wall. "His visions."
She came forward to look, but at that instant, the spirits swarmed around
Elena, silent yet nevertheless intensely active, trying once more to strike
her eyelid and her cheeks.
Corazon Negro knew they were there, pressing on her. "Get away from her!" he
commanded. "You have no power over her!"
There was an immense response. The jungle around them appeared to tremble,
as if an errant breeze had worked its way down to them, and a shower of
leaves came into the hall and fell at their feet. Once again Elena heard the
unearthly roar of the howler monkeys high in the trees. It seemed to give
voice to the spirits.
"Come on, my love," Corazon Negro said; but as he meant to go forward,
something invisible appeared to stop him, because he stepped back
off-balance and raised his left hand as if to shield himself. Another volley
of leaves descended upon them.
"Not good enough!" he said aloud and plunged into the vaulted chamber, the
light growing brighter and fuller so that they found themselves surrounded
by some of the most vivid murals, which they've ever seen. Everywhere around
them rose splendid processional figures, tall and thin, complete with ornate
kilts, earrings and headdresses. They could not mark the style of the
statues. It was like nothing they'd ever seen before.
"Who are they?" Elena whispered.
Corazon Negro touched one drawing-the carvings around and in it made it look
three-dimensional. "They are representations of the first Immortals, my
love. They are the original Ancient Gathering," he said with the deepest
respect. "Look," he pointed at the next statue. "This is Zarach, and over
here, there is Aylon!" He breathed hard. "I don't recognize the others." His
gaze narrowed looking at the figure at the far extreme. "But I do recognize
this one: she is Lilitu."
Elena moved closer to the representation of their eternal enemy. Carved in
the chest of the figure was the representation of two men fighting. The most
startling aspect of the scene was the anatomy of the two figures. The limbs
of both fighters were soft and fleshy, and the torsos possessed little
definition. But the heads were overly large-much too ponderous for the
frames of the figures' bodies. As the sculpture was carved from a
textureless black stone, this purposeful disproportionment was enhanced. "My
God," Elena spoke softly. "Are they.?"
"Yes," Corazon Negro said moving closer to them. "They are Zarach, formerly
known as Tubal-Khain, and Abel. The first Immortals who fought to the death.
It is the representation of the first Quickening ever," he finished, his
eyes wide opened. Abel's face was lit with a cheery bliss without even a
hint of resignation. Clearly, he anticipated the journey to the other world.
The intriguing premise made Zarach's face even more decipherable, for his
expression was one of resolution and determination but with an upper lip
that was slightly wrinkled to denote some amount of distaste. But then, a
little drawing next to Lilitu's caught Corazon Negro's attention.
Elena peered at it. "Who is that?" she asked him.
Corazon Negro knelt, shining his flashlight to better see the little
carving. It was the crude representation of a flower, with a visible heart
in its center. "It's us," he said. "The two made one, forever, until the end
of time."
They stared at each other, amazed at the power and accuracy of
Quetzalcohuatl's predictions, depicted here millennia before. After a while,
they went on, their every footfall echoing off the walls as they proceeded,
but the air had grown intolerably hot. Dust rose and filled their nostrils.
It made them cough. Elena felt the touch of fingers all over her. Indeed
there came the grip of hands on her upper arm, and a muffled blow against
her face. It was stronger than any touch she'd felt so far, and she worried
that the spirits would get stronger as they proceeded. She also wondered if
their weapons would have any effect against them -how could they fight
spirits? She tried to touch them, to brush them away, but felt nothing in
her hands, and yet they continued to touch her, to press against her. She
reached out for Corazon Negro's shoulder, both to hurry him and to stay with
him.
They moved forward much more slowly than she wished, and she knew the Aztec
was working his way through just like he had in the jungle. She could hear
him straining with every step, panting with effort, and she stayed close to
him, her front almost brushing his back, to try to keep any spirits from
getting between them. When they were in the very middle of the passage
Corazon Negro came to a standstill and flinched as if receiving a shock. He
rocked against her, and she held him up with her arms against his back. "Get
away from me, you won't stop me!" he whispered. And then in a long stream of
Nahuatl he called on Quetzalcohuatl to make the way.
They hurried on. Elena wasn't at all convinced that Quetzalcohuatl would do
anything of the sort. It seemed far more likely that the Old Snake would
bring the temple down on their heads.
At last they came out in the jungle once more, and Elena coughed to clear
her throat. She looked back at the edifice. Less was visible on this side
than on the front. She felt the spirits all around them. She felt threats
without language. She felt herself pushed and shoved by weak creatures
desperate to stop her advance and they were getting stronger-she was sure of
it now.
But Corazon Negro moved on, pulling his machete out once more. He seemed to
be sure of their destination, but they had to hack their own path out of the
jungle. They went steeply upwards, and Elena beheld the sparkle of the
waterfall before she heard its music. There came a relatively clear but
narrow place where the water ran deep, and Corazon Negro crossed over to the
right bank as Elena followed, her machete working as hard as his. The climb
up the waterfall was not difficult at all. But the activity of the spirits
became increasingly stronger. Again and again Corazon Negro cursed under his
breath. Elena called on God to show the way.
"Father, get me there," Corazon Negro prayed.
Quite abruptly Elena perceived, just beneath an overhang, where the
waterfall jetted forward, a monstrous open-mouthed snake face carved deep
into the volcanic rock that surrounded an obvious cave. Though the spirits
kept up their assault, the gentle mist from the waterfall was cooling her
hands and face.
She made her way up to stand beside Corazon Negro, when suddenly the spirits
seemed to push at her from the rock behind, toward the water far below.
Elena felt her left foot go out from under her. Though she never cried out,
but merely reached out for purchase leverage, Corazon Negro turned and
grabbed hold of her by the loose shoulder of her shirt. That was all she
needed to recover her footing and climb the remaining few feet to be at the
flattened entrance of the cave.
"Look at the offerings," Corazon Negro said, squeezing Elena's wrist. The
spirits redoubled their efforts, hundreds of little invisible hands trying
to push her away from the cave entrance. But she held firm and so did he,
though twice he swiped at something near to his face.
As for the offerings, what Elena beheld was a giant basalt snake's head. It
struck her as similar to the representations of Quetzalcohuatl. It was
helmeted and tilted upwards so that the face with its open eyes and unique
reptilian mouth received the rain that inevitably fell here, and at its
uneven base, amid piles of blackened stones, stood an amazing array of
feathers, wilted flowers and some pottery. Elena almost could smell the
incense where she stood. The blackened rocks testified to many years of
candles, but even her untrained eye could see that the last of these
offerings were over a thousand years old.
Elena felt something change in the air around them. But Corazon Negro seemed
as distressed by the spirits as before. He made another involuntary gesture,
as though to drive something unseen away. Elena felt no change in the
assault of the spirits. She felt them pushing on her with renewed energy in
a way that was beginning to unnerve her, certain though as she was that they
would never gain much physical strength. Could they be wrong, being here?
Should they intrude on what had not been touched for so many thousands of
years? She opened her mouth to voice her new doubts to her companion, but he
interrupted.
"They are testing us," said Corazon Negro, gazing at the giant upturned
snakehead and its withered offerings. "Let's go into the cave."
They used their flashlights, and at once the silence from the waterfall
descended upon them, along with the smell of dry earth and ash. Immediately
Elena saw more paintings and carvings. They were well inside, and the two of
them walked and swiftly towards them, ignoring the spirits, which had now
produced an almost painful whistling sound near her ears.
To her utter shock, she saw these splendidly colored wall coverings were in
fact mosaics made with millions of tiny chips of semiprecious stones. The
figures were far simpler than the drawings before, which indicated they were
probably more ancient.
Abruptly the spirits had gone quiet, but Elena hardly noticed. "This is
marvelous," Elena whispered, because she had to say something. "Look,
there's writing. I'm sure those are glyphs."
Corazon Negro didn't answer. He stared at the walls as Elena did. He seemed
entranced.
Elena could not quite make out a procession, or indeed attribute any
activity to the tall slender figures, except to say that they appeared to be
in profile, to wear long garments, and to be carrying important objects in
their hands. She did not see bloody victims struggling. She did not see
clear figures or priests. But as she struggled to make out the intermittent
and glittering splendor, her foot struck something hollow. She looked down
at a wealth of richly colored pottery gleaming before they as far as she
could see.
"This isn't a cave at all, is it?" she asked.
"No," Corazon Negro answered. "It is a tunnel. It's been carved out entirely
by man. Quetzalcohuatl."
The stillness, especially after the noises of the jungle, the waterfall, the
spirits, was shocking. All they could hear was their own hushed voices and
the sound of their breathing. Stepping as carefully as he could, Corazon
Negro went on, and Elena behind him, though she had to reach down several
times to move some of the small vessels out of her way.
"This is a burial place, and all these are offerings for the dead," Corazon
Negro explained.
At that Elena felt a sharp blow to the back of her head. She spun around and
shone her flashlight on nothing. The light from the cave entrance hurt her
only eye. Something pushed her left side and then her right shoulder. It was
the spirits coming at them again. So much for their not being physical, she
thought, trying to strike out against them with her arms and encountering
nothing as before. She saw that Corazon Negro was jerking and moving to the
side, as if something were striking him also. Elena uttered a prayer again,
and heard her love issuing his own refusals to back down.
"No other Immortal had entered here," Corazon Negro said, turning to look at
her, his face dark above the flashlight, which he politely directed to the
ground. "Only Quetzalcohuatl knew this place. We must go on."
Elena was right with him, but the assault of the spirits grew stronger. She
saw him pushed to one side, but quickly he steadied himself. Elena heard the
crunch of pottery beneath her feet.
"Stop this!" Corazon Negro yelled at the spirits. "We have a right to be
here!"
At this Elena received a heavy silent blow against her ribs, and she felt
the spot, wondering if there was a wound, but there was no blood. She felt a
sharp increase in her exhilaration suddenly, and she gasped with excitement
and fear. These invisible creatures frightened her because she had no
weapons against them; if she couldn't touch them, she couldn't hurt them or
stop them, and her lover's words didn't seem to be having much effect,
either.
The tunnel had opened into a great hollow round chamber where the mosaics
ascended the low dome. Much had fallen away from age and dampness, but it
was a glorious room nevertheless. Round both walls the figures proceeded,
until there stood one individual whose facial features had long ago been
broken away. Elena surmised that must have been Quetzalcohuatl's face.
On the floor of the room, in its very center, surrounded by clear circles of
pottery offerings and fine jade statues, lay a beautiful arrangement of
ornaments in a nest of dust.
"Look, it's Quetzalcohuatl's mask," Corazon Negro said, his light falling
upon the most glorious polished green snakelike jade image, which lay as it
had been placed perhaps thousands of years before. Its exquisite beauty and
workmanship untouched by the ravages of time, it looked brand new.
Neither of them dared take a step. The precious articles surrounding the
burial were too beautifully arranged. They could see the ear ornaments now,
glinting, as the soft moldering earth swallowed them, and across the
would-be chest of the mask they saw a long richly-carved scepter.
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