Izel caught the faint scent of flowers.
Soft music drifted through the air.
She stretched lazily, not yet opening her eyes. Her hands brushed over the bed—and to her surprise, she didn't feel a mat, but petals.
Flower petals.
That made her open her eyes. She was lying on a bed of dahlias. Realizing this, she rose slowly. Around her, Meya, Nenetzi, and Xilonen still slept—each upon a bed of blossoms. Meya's was made of plumerias, Nenetzi's of vanilla flowers, and Xilonen's of hibiscus—each bloom symbolizing the virtue that defined them.
"Girls… wake up."
All three began to stir. Xilonen woke first, blinking a few times.
"Is it morning already?"
Then, as her vision cleared, her eyes widened.
"Where are we?"
It was a good question. The answer was clear soon enough—they were no longer in the mortal world.
The sky above was white, like agave sap, and the clouds that drifted across it shimmered in soft hues of pink, blue, violet, and gold. There was no sun, yet every leaf and flower seemed to glow faintly from within, filling the world with its own gentle light.
They stood to look around. The air shimmered with calm, soothing music. Above them, countless terraces overflowed with flowers of every shape and color imaginable. Even the sacred garden of the temple paled in comparison to this place. Lakes and streams glimmered between the terraces, their surfaces covered in lilies and broad leaves.
They could hardly believe what they saw. Where were they?
Then they heard a familiar voice behind them.
When they turned, he was there.
Tlacotzin stood just a few steps away—exactly as he had that morning before the ceremony.
Without a word, they rushed to him, knocking him down into the bed of flowers. Each clung to him tightly, unwilling to ever let go.
Tlacotzin laughed softly and embraced them in return, smiling. They could have stayed like that forever, basking in each other's presence—had a voice not spoken from above.
"Tlacotzin. Girls. I am glad for your happiness… but there are a few things we must discuss."
A woman stood over them, about thirty-something years old, radiantly beautiful. The girls immediately rose, brushing the petals from their clothes and bowing. They didn't need to be told who she was—they knew.
The woman smiled warmly and laughed.
"Meya, Nenetzi, Xilonen, Izel. Welcome. I am Malinali. It's a pleasure to finally meet you in person."
At first the girls were too stunned to reply, but Izel spoke up first, realization dawning.
"You were present at the ceremonies."
Malinali nodded approvingly.
"You are very perceptive, Izel. Truly your mother's—"
She stopped suddenly, glancing around.
"Where is Tenoh?"
Tlacotzin chuckled quietly and looked up at his mother, who sighed.
"I can guess where he went."
Xilonen scratched her head.
"Where there's some kind of war meeting, maybe?"
Malinali gave her a surprised look.
"My father was his friend in the army," Xilonen explained.
Malinali smiled knowingly, and together they went to look for him. Xilonen's guess proved right—Nagual Yaotl was arm-wrestling another man, with Tletlaca and Yolihuani cheering them on.
Malinali walked up to them and smacked both combatants on the head.
Tlacotzin didn't even flinch. Xilonen giggled. It felt like watching her own parents.
Soon everyone gathered at a long table. Xoco, Ayalli, Nenetl, and Tlachpialotl helped serve food and drink.
Tlacotzin spoke first.
"First of all, this is a dream. When you sleep, you can enter my garden—but when you awaken, you'll return to your world."
The girls' smiles faded. Leaving this paradise to return to the mortal world… it felt unbearable.
Tlacotzin's expression grew serious.
"Listen to me carefully. This is important."
All four straightened, focused entirely on him.
"After the ceremony, I spoke with Xochipilli."
For a heartbeat they were startled—but then they nodded. Of course. Tlacotzin was now a guardian spirit and a servant of Xochipilli; such communion was natural.
"I asked him why he chose me."
Their hearts quickened—they had all wondered the same thing.
"When I left the feast with Itzcoatl, I wanted to go home. But somehow… I ended up on the steps of Xochipilli's temple. I didn't go there on my own."
He paused.
"It was Tezcatlipoca who guided me."
The girls gasped aloud, stunned.
"I understand your surprise. I didn't believe it myself when I heard. But Xochipilli told me that Tezcatlipoca likely wanted to see what would happen."
He scratched his head and gave a wry smile.
"When I realized where I was, I played my flute and prayed to Xochipilli to change my life. I was ready to devote myself completely to him—if only to escape the despair I felt."
He smiled sadly.
"Xochipilli saw great potential in me—and a heart filled with music."
Everyone smiled softly. It was a gentle, bittersweet smile.
"I must ask something of you," Tlacotzin said.
Meya spoke first.
"We are your priestesses and wives. It is our duty to help you."
"It's about Itzcoatl," he continued. "I suspect Tezcatlipoca may set his eyes upon him next."
Izel nodded gravely.
"That is possible. He is… greatly mischievous."
Tlacotzin smiled faintly. Then the feast began. They ate and drank merrily. Tlachpialotl danced with Xilonen to Tlacotzin's music; the courtesan even offered to teach Malinali some of her moves, insisting that Tenoh would surely enjoy them.
Nenetzi asked Xoco about her sister Nahui—she had found companionship with Mecatl, and now they tended the gardens together.
No one counted the hours. The five young women stayed long into the night in the house of the guardian spirit, cherishing every moment together until dawn.
Morning came.
Citalli, High Priestess of Tlacotzin, walked down the corridor toward the chamber of the holy brides, followed by acolytes carrying breakfast. The girls would begin their duties as priestesses today—and they were still in mourning. Citalli worried for them.
But when she entered the room, she froze.
The entire chamber was covered in pink orchids. Each girl had a single canna flower resting on her belly. Above them fluttered a blue morpho butterfly.
Citalli smiled softly as the butterfly hovered before her.
"Lord Tlacotzin," she whispered, "forgive me, but your brides have work to do. And, I imagine, so do you."
The butterfly seemed almost flustered by her words—just as Tlacotzin had been when he first learned he would have a temple and a tomb.
It circled the girls once more, then flew out the window.
A moment later, the young priestesses began to stir. Yet something was strange.
Izel felt dizzy. Nenetzi complained about the incense, though it burned far outside. Meya's stomach churned. Xilonen suddenly declared she was craving grilled fruit with chili sauce.
Citalli remembered what Cuathli had once said about his vision during the ritual of inquiry—about canna blossoms and divine lineage.
She smiled warmly.
"Congratulations, girls… you are with child."
They looked at her wide-eyed. Their eyes now shimmered with new light—pink irises with orchid-shaped pupils, just like their spiritual husband.
The girls began eating breakfast, quiet but thoughtful. They had expected this… and yet it had all come so suddenly.
After the meal, they followed Citalli into the daylight. Each of them was smiling faintly, hearts brimming with joy—the kind of joy known only to those who live close to the world of gods and spirits