Sol Invictus 4: ¡A las armas!
Sunlight was filtering through the tent flap, hitting Diego’s eyes and making him blink and groan. His head was absolutely pounding, and he recognized the signs of an absolutely killer hangover. Despite being a tequila magnate, he didn’t typically overindulge in his own product, especially not to this point.
“Mmm, not yet…” a soft voice sighed in his ear.
He blinked in surprise as soft arms wrapped themselves about him and drew him closer. He had to sort back through the haze of memory to figure out just what was going on. Yes, he hadn’t gone to bed alone last night. He remembered dancing with Adoncia…and then kissing her, and then…
He turned his head, his headache fading as he gently kissed his former head of staff on the lips. She gasped softly, then suddenly started, jerking away. “D-Diego?!”
“Who did you think it was?” he asked, faintly amused as he pulled her back towards him. She didn’t resist, but she did look about as hung over as he felt.
“I…I vaguely remember…oh, but señor, I-”
“Mmm, I don’t think you should call me that anymore. Unless you like to play that way,” Diego said, and tickled her slightly.
She wiggled and giggled, but directed his hand slightly lower. “I…Diego, I’m just-”
“The woman I love,” he told her, and kissed her again.
She groaned, stroking his chin, tears in her eyes. “But, Diego, you…you’re the boss! I’m just-”
“The woman who has been running my life for the past six years. Perhaps I should finally get some sense in me, and make it official,” he purred. He could feel a heat against his skin and looked down at his bare chest, where his Vision was hung next to his golden crucifix. “I’ve been blind for so long…”
“But, Diego…I’m a poor orphan! I, I dreamed of this, but you can’t just-”
“Adoncia, it wasn’t me who kept everyone together when we had to flee Rancho del Amanecer,” he told her sternly, cupping her cheek. “It was you. You’re intelligent, organized, and beautiful. What more could a man want?”
She looked like she wanted to argue again, so Diego kissed her, which made her laugh.
“I…I don’t even remember what happened last night,” she giggled. “I never drink, but…with the Holy Archon coming…”
“Then let’s make sure we do remember this,” Diego told her, and his Vision flicked in agreement as he rolled on top of her.
The sun was fully risen when Diego and Adoncia crawled out of the tent. The stadium floor was covered with such structures, and the bleachers were full of even more refugees. The tent itself was barely large enough for two people to lie together side to side in. Which was fortunate, as they hadn’t exactly been side by side, so there had been plenty of room.
The stadium was already bustling with people getting up and moving, and the tents immediately around Diego and Adoncia belonged to his people. No, their people. There was Pedro, using a butane stove to heat up some canned beans, Iliana and Mónica were chattering as usual in front of their own tent, and…
“Well, I would say I hope you slept well, but it looks like you found something else to do,” Carlo said, smirking at Diego and Adoncia. She blushed and folded her hands in front of herself by reflex, but Diego put a possessive arm around her and glared back defiantly at his younger brother.
“I finally realized the passion that had been in my heart all along. I’ve known Adoncia since we were teenagers. I had a crush on her ever since she was first hired, but I kept my distance out of fear that it would be an abuse of my power over her. No more. We’re all nothing but refugees now. So yes, I will declare my love proudly and loudly! So if you want to make it a problem, Carlo, let’s make it a problem!”
Carlo raised his hands in surrender, not standing up from where he was sitting on a plastic bin. “Far be it from me to judge. I’ve been sleeping with my superior officer in the Protectorate for months.” A look of pain passed over his face, and he shook his head. “I…I need to find out how Mina is doing, but…”
His eyes drifted up to one particular VIP box, and everyone else looked that way as well.
“Have you seen her this morning?” Diego asked, frowning at the sun. It hadn’t gotten dark at all, staying at full daylight since the Holy Archon had put a second light in the sky to chase away the darkness. It was comforting, especially after the days of endless blackness and blood.
“Not yet. I think she’s resting. Didn’t realize they needed to,” Carlo mused, scratching at his chin, where a bit of stubble was sprouting.
“Yes, she seemed more…human. It was a surprise,” Diego agreed, accepting some of the warmed beans from Pedro. “How is the arm, my friend?”
The old farmer grinned and flexed his right arm. “Better than ever, boss! When the Archon’s flames swept over me, I thought I was dead! Instead, I think she got rid of the arthritis in my shoulder! Truly, a holy miracle.”
Diego nodded, looking up at the sky. The new sun was setting in the west, but the real sun was now rising in the east. “Three days of light. We had best not waste them. Get the men moving: I want a count of all we have with us who can still fight and move. Mexico city might be free, but Guadalajara is still contaminated, as is much of the rest of our nation. We cannot rest until all of Mexico is free! No, the whole world!”
Diego made a fist, and started when flames licked up and down his arm. He dropped the beans when his clothes began to smolder, swearing profusely as he tried to pat out the fire.
“You have been granted a Holy Blessing, my son. Do not take our Lord’s name in vain,” a gentle voice said, and Diego spun, feeling like a boy who had been caught stealing tamales as Father Aparicio approached. He was dressed in a simple black cassock, but had two altar boys trailing behind him with medical supplies and a pattern with the Holy Host on it.
“Apologies, Father, I am unused to this blessing,” Diego said, stepping over to Adoncia, who had been talking and blushing with Iliana and Mónica. He took her hand and bowed his head. “Forgive me Father, for I have sinned. I must make this right in the eyes of God and man.”
“Hmmm,” Father Aparicio said, one eyebrow raising as Diego and Adoncia both blushed and held hands. He raised a hand in benediction, and both Diego and Adoncia hastily knelt and bowed their heads, crossing themselves. “God understands, my son and daughter. Pray the rosary together in penance. Then get married before you sin again, eh?”
The Priest said a quick communion for the camp, provided them with the Holy Host, and listened to Pedro give thanks and recite the miracle of his healed arm and cured affliction. “The Holy Archon has given us many blessings. Remember to come to Mass today and give thanks to our Lord and his many blessings. Peace be with you.”
“And also with you,” Diego and the others recited, rising to their feet as the Father continued to weave his way through the refugees. There did not appear to be much need of the medical supplies, but despite the victory, people were still frightened and desperate, and needed the reassurance only a priest could offer.
Adoncia had a set of rosary beads, Diego’s had been lost in the fighting, and they knelt together by the tents, holding hands. “I didn’t ask if you wanted to get married,” Diego pointed out.
“You still haven’t, but I am used to figuring out what you want and making sure it happens before you’ve even realized you need it,” Adoncia said, shaking her head and smiling.
Diego had to laugh. “I suppose you are! But, still. Adoncia Flores…my heart…will you do me the honor of becoming my wife, the treasure greater than any wealth I could amass on this earth? For though I have lost everything…I still have you. And that is enough.”
“I will,” she whispered, and they shared a kiss, right there in public, Pedro chuckling happily, and Iliana and Mónica already gasping and cooing. The gossip those two hens spread would be all over the camp before Diego could blink.
Well, let it. He had nothing to hide, and no reason to want to. Let the world see the passion of Diego Diaz Rodriguez. He had lost the world, but in doing so, had saved the souls of those he treasured most.
Before they could say more than one decade of the rosary, a stir ran through the camp. Diego instantly stood, helping Adoncia to her feet. He craned his neck, but while he could see people reacting, he couldn’t see more than a glimpse of the fiery hair at the edge of the crowd.
“Come on!” he urged, and he, Adoncia, Carlo, and the rest of his men hurried over. People were kneeling and saying prayers, or standing and cheering in jubilation, as the Pyro Archon began to walk amongst the people. A few turned to glare at Diego as he shoved his way through, but when they saw his Vision, they only murmured, “Excuse me, Captain,” and stepped aside.
By the time Diego reached the Archon, Father Aparicio was already at her side, along with several other Pyro Vision holders. Once, perhaps, Diego might have hesitated to step before one of God’s most holy servants without being summoned. Now he felt like a lion, unashamed and unafraid. He kept Adoncia’s hand firmly in his, even as she trembled, and stepped out before Mavuika.
She was dressed in clothes so ordinary, it was almost distracting: a black leather jacket, a Mexico National Football team jersey, with rather tight jeans that really showed off her legs. It was, in fact, very similar to the clothing most of the refugees had on, if a little better fitting, as many of them had been clothed in jerseys or whatever clothing could be scavenged near the stadium.
Adoncia was the most beautiful woman Diego had ever seen, and he would fight anyone who said otherwise, but the Pyro Archon was a truly striking woman. Even, or perhaps especially, dressed in regular clothes, Mavuika grabbed everyone’s attention. It was odd, as once again, she didn’t look like the ethereal beauty possessed by the Endslayer, White Witch, or Hopebringer. A supermodel, perhaps, but one matured past youth, a woman in her mid to late 30s.
“My Lady,” Diego said, putting a fist over his heart in salute and bowing his head. “I trust you rested well.”
“Any rest outside of the grave is a good rest!” Mavuika declared through the priest, which got some chuckles and grins from the assembly. She nodded to Diego. “What news, Captain Diego? Surely the fight is not over yet. I have spoken with President Reyes. There is still much work to be done here. But not, I think, work for warriors.”
“No, Excellency,” Diego began, “We-”
"¡Mavuika!" she interrupted. She stepped forward and clapped Diego on the shoulder before pointing between them.
"No... 'Excellency.'" She shook her head firmly. "Mavuika."
"You, Diego,” she said, clapping his shoulder again before pointing at herself. "I, Mavuika."
She clasped his forearm, her smile so bright it could have been a third sunrise. “Together, comrades.”
He swallowed. A lion he might be, but this…this was like being told to call the Holy Father by his first name, or even the Son of God simply Jesus. And yet…had not Saint Peter and the other apostles called the Lord as such? They had been friends of God…perhaps he could be a friend to this Archon?
“I, yes…Mavuika. The city, it is free of the Abyss. But, Mexico…she is not. My home, Guadalajara…it was destroyed by the Abyss, and a Divine Nail from the Spawn of Satan, the one who claims the false name of Zion.”
There were dark mutters around the table, with some of the more superstitious men and women spitting over their left shoulders, crossing themselves, or making a sign to ward off the Evil Eye.
Mavuika looked around, her brow furrowing. “Zion?” she asked, her gaze resting on Diego.
“The Golden Anti-Christ. The one who brings the demons. The parahumans,” Diego clarified.
“Para…human?” Mavuika said slowly. She shook her head, and asked Father Aparicio several questions. The exchange lasted for some time, and by the end of it, Mavuika was resting her chin on her hand, looking disturbed.
“She does not know parahumans,” Father Aparicio clarified. “They did not have them where she came from. She calls it Natlan. The Holy See believes the Archons come from Teyvat- the Ark from which the Lord sent them to us- and that Natlan is one of its lands.”
“Teyvat,” Mavuika said, nodding. “Natlan estas parto de Tejvato. Mi ja parolas Tejvanan, sed Natlan ne havis multe da komerco, do… mi ne estas tre bona.”
“Just how many languages does she speak?” Carlo muttered, shaking his head, as this new language wasn’t one of the others.
Mavuika’s expression firmed, and she made a longer speech, pausing every so often to let it be translated.
“I agree with Captain Diego: While this city has burned away the corruption of the Abyss, we cannot rest. All of this land and its people must be free of the Abyss. Our foe is relentless, it will not rest; Neither can we. We must ride out, and confront it immediately. I myself will go, for I am the Lord of War, and I have sworn an oath that I shall not relent until every last shred of darkness is brought to light and destroyed.”
Mavuika met the eyes of all assembled, then added, “But I do not wish to ride alone. Who will stand with me?”
Immediately, Diego squeezed Adoncia’s hand once, then stepped forward. “I will go!”
Right beside him, Carlo stepped forward, snapping to attention and saluting in the Gringo fashion. “2nd Lieutenant Carlo Miller Rodriguez, Lightkeepers, reporting for duty!”
The other Pyro Vision holders present, and quite a few others, also eagerly volunteered. One, however, a woman somewhere north of forty with a nose that had been broken more than once, glared at Carlo. “He is a gringo! One of the Hegemony’s dogs! And a demon, to boot! He does not belong with us!”
“He is my brother!” Diego snarled, stepping between the woman and Carlo. “He fought alongside us in the battle!”
“He is still a servant of the Hegemony! They brought the Abyss, you know it! The Archons said so!” the woman snarled back, making a cutting motion.
“He is a Lightkeeper! They are different!” Diego protested, but half a dozen other people had jumped in, all of them shouting. Carlo looked wary, putting his back to Diego, while Adoncia stuck her finger in the face of another Vision holder and started giving them the rough side of her tongue for daring to attack a Rodriguez.
“Enough!” There was a burst of flames, and the argument died as everyone turned towards Mavuika. But it hadn’t been her who had unleashed the blaze, but rather, the elderly priest.
Father Aparicio gaze swept the crowd, his Vision burning brightly next to his crucifix, and shook his head. “The enemy is not this young man! The enemy is that vile serpent, and the minions of hell! Do you not know that the Enemy would spread dissent and disharmony? I have buried too many children of God to allow you to condemn one who still lives.”
The others stepped back, save for the first woman, who had flames licking from her fists. She shook her head, jaw set. “My family was killed by the Abyss! Our home destroyed! And it was the gringos, the Hegemony, that brought it! He is a spawn of the false Zion and a child of Satan!”
Diego was about to fire back, but Adoncia stepped forward. “Father, what is the church’s teaching on Parahumans, like Carlo?”
The others all nodded, turning to the priest, who was hastily trying to translate the conversation for Mavuika, who was frowning. She nodded, then gestured for the Father to speak.
“Mother Church teaches that a parahuman remains a child of God,” Father Aparicio declared. “They are tormented and afflicted by the Enemy, but they are not Fallen, nor Damned. If they have been baptized, they may still partake of all the sacraments. When possible, a parahuman should make pilgrimage to one of the designated sites listed by the Dicastery for Extraordinary Phenomena, or seek out an Archon who may remove their affliction.”
“He has been baptized!” Diego said, glaring around at those assembled. “And I was there when he received his First Communion, as well as when he was confirmed in the church! Do any of you doubt I speak the truth?”
“My Shard was modified by General Jones, though as a participant in the PATRIOT program, it was unable to network with her,” Carlo added.
That just brought angry shouts, and Diego groaned, pressing his knuckles to his forehead, as those assembled began demanding Carlo’s blood then and there.
“Carlo, do us a favor and shut up!” Adoncia hissed, grabbing Carlo by the arm.
“What!? It is true!” Carlo protested.
“You just confirmed that you are possessed by the vilest kind of demon, by participating in the most blasphemous act known to man, and willingly took a demon into you, brother,” Diego said tiredly. “If they don’t kill you, I’m tempted to do it myself. Why couldn’t you just shut up?”
I will see to the demon.
Silence fell instantly, and Diego turned as many of those assembled cried out, falling to their knees in prayer. Mavuika’s hair had caught fire, and her words no longer were heard in Diego’s ears, but his soul. He did not kneel, however, as he and Adoncia put their hands on Carlo’s back, and turned him to face the Archon.
Earlier, Mavuika had looked like an extraordinary, but mortal, woman. Now? Now she looked exactly like a Holy Archon. Her face glowed with divine radiance, and holy fire washed over her body. Carlo had gone pale, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. But he nodded. “I will do what must be done, to stand against the Abyss with my brother. I am not ashamed of what I did: the Lightkeepers are an honorable unit.”
Mavuika inclined her head. I am not here to judge you, Carlo Miller Rodriguez. I am here to judge this thing within you. Stand fast! The Sacred Flame does not burn those who fight with honor.
Diego had just enough time to wonder how she’d learned Spanish so quickly, when flames just like those that had turned the Abyss to ash washed over his brother, and him. He screamed involuntarily, but instead of pain it brought…warmth. Life. Joy! He wanted nothing more than to embrace his brother, then kiss Adoncia, and then charge the Abyss barehanded and alone!
Mavuika had stepped forward, pressing her forehead against Carlo’s, who was breathing rapidly.
There is…something, Mavuika said, so low Diego didn’t think those around them could hear. A demon is a good word for it, but…it’s a parasite. A psychic leech, that feeds on your mind, seeking…I do not understand it. It feeds not on flesh, blood, or your spirit…something else. Nevertheless…it gives you power. I believe I can tame it, but I could also burn it away. Is that what you wish?
“No! I…I need it! Without it…I can’t…can’t fight the Abyss! Can’t fight beside Mina!” Carlo gasped, his whole body trembling, his eyes so wide Diego thought they might burst.
Then this will be more difficult. Stand ready! We depart for the Realm of Night! This is not a battle to be fought with flesh and blood, but with your spirit!
Suddenly, Diego stumbled, as Carlo and Mavuika were both entirely engulfed in flames, and vanished. He grabbed Adoncia, the both of them clinging together as they panted in fright. What had just happened?
There were angry mutters from the crowd, but before they could become more than that, Father Aparicio stepped forward and made the Sign of the Cross. “The Holy Archon goes to do battle in the spirit against the forces of Satan and the Abyss! We cannot accompany her, but we can do battle beside her! Recite the Prayer to Saint Michael with me!”
Diego quickly knelt, gripping Adoncia’s hand as tightly as she clung to his, and with the others, intoned, “Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle. Be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil…”
They had made it through Saint Michael’s prayer and began to say a Hail Mary, when in a burst of flame, Mavuika and Carlo stepped back into their midst. Carlo looked stunned, but Mavuika was grinning. She grabbed Carlo’s arm, and thrust it into the air. Victory!
A rainbow light sprang up around Carlo, and he gasped, looking at his hands.
I present to you, Carlo, of the Ancient Name Cuāuhtlācatl! Eagle Warrior!
A stone dagger of obsidian floated down, and Carlo reached his free hand up to allow it to settle in his palm, where an Aztec style pictogram showing a screaming eagle appeared in silver light.
“This…is my name?” Carlo gasped, holding the obsidian in his fingers lightly.
Mavuika nodded. She turned to the priest. Your Pope is right to be wary of these parasites. They are pieces of a dead god, seeking out mortal will to attach themselves to. I am not certain as to their purpose, but their ill intent and malice are clear.
“A dead god? But, they are evil, how-” Father Aparicio shook his head. “Ah, it is the confusion of another tongue. You mean, a great and powerful spiritual being, a Principality or Throne, or some other fallen power. Not a blasphemous pagan idol.”
Yes. God is not quite the right word; you are correct, Mavuika agreed. She grimaced. Theology was not something I had much time for. My days were spent reading military treatises and training for war, not studying culture and religion. A pity. We spend so much time preparing to fight, and not enough learning what and why we do so.
Speaking of… Mavuika turned back to the crowd, and the flames of her hair died, as did the radiant aura surrounding her. Once more, she was merely an extraordinary but mortal woman. This time, she managed the Spanish.
“¡A las armas!”
There was a general scramble. Diego pulled Adoncia close, and kissed her deeply. “You are the what and why I fight, my heart.”
“Come back to me,” Adoncia said, stroking Diego’s cheek tenderly. There were tears in her eyes, but she was a strong woman. She would shed them later, once he was gone. “I just discovered how much I love you, Diego. I can’t lose you now.”
“I will return!” Diego promised, and followed Mavuika out of the stadium, and onto the street.
It wasn’t quite that simple. It took several hours of planning and gathering supplies and gear before they were ready to depart. The major problem was transportation: How to move over a hundred barely trained and lightly equipped men and women across Mexico, often over bad roads in hostile territory?
The solution was a collection of ATVs, motorcycles, and land rovers. That brought up the problem of gasoline: How were they to fuel their column?
“That, I can handle!” Mavuika laughed, speaking through the Father again.. She snapped her fingers, and the engines all roared to life. “They run on Pyro, or close enough to it! I don’t understand engines the way Xilonen does, but I do understand fire! As long as you are with me, their flames shall not die!”
After that, the next problem was weapons. Museums and private collections were raided, turning out real swords, pikes, maces, and even bows, mixed in with more modern guns. Diego took a fencing saber, and swished it through the air, nodding.
“Ah, you-” Mavuika made a few imaginary thrusts through the air. “Good! You fight?”
“Private fencing lessons,” Diego admitted.
Mavuika didn’t seem to grasp that, but she grinned and gave a thumbs up, a gesture she’d acquired rapidly. Diego laughed, returning the gesture. “Yes! Fight good!”
“Good! ¡A las armas!” Mavuika declared and summoned her own mystical motorcycle.
Before they started, however, Father Aparicio, wearing jeans and a leather jacket, but still with his priestly collar, went to the front of the column, along with three other priests and his two altar boys.
“We ride to war, but God goes with us! We will celebrate Mass, and afterward a benediction for those who take up this burden,” the father declared.
Mavuika nodded and knelt beside her bike, and the others hastily followed.
Diego bowed his head, crossing himself as the Father celebrated the mass, then followed it up with a blessing. The priest took out a flask of holy water, putting a dot of it on his finger and marking Diego’s brow first, as he was at the head of the column. The Father stepped to the next person, but hesitated. It was Mavuika, who was bowing her head, her arms crossed in reverence, just like the other warriors.
The Father had a brief theological struggle, but finally blessed Mavuika and marked her with the holy water. He did not give her the host, but Mavuika seemed to accept this without begrudging it.
She is just like one of us, Diego thought, and the realization startled him. He’d thought of Archons as other, apart before this. Now? He wasn’t so sure. He would have to ask if she had been baptized though. Were there Catholics in Teyvat? He hadn’t thought of that before.
When the mass concluded, Diego mounted his own bike, which had a sidecar attached for Father Aparicio. The old priest had on a helmet and his ecclesiastical collar, but was grinning like a maniac.
“You know, my son, I have always dreamed of riding one of these, but I always thought it would be irresponsible,” the priest laughed.
Diego gunned the engine and roared down the road past the cheering crowd. Diego waved to Adoncia, who blew him a kiss as he passed. Carlo flew just above him, still glowing with rainbow light.
“Think of it this way, Father. It would be irresponsible for you to not ride with us now! Who will hear our confession and celebrate the Mass in victory once we defeat the Abyss?” Diego called.
“A fair point, my son. But I shall let you drive. I have lost my glasses, and I was never a very good driver,” the Father laughed.
Whooping with delight, Diego followed after the Unconquered Sun, departing Mexico City at noon to face the Abyss.