Nahum stood before the entrance to Tlaxaklotl’s sanctum, an ornate gateway carved into the mountain rock. It was only mid-day. He had journeyed seven days in pilgrimage to the land of Ahnuxelu to make his offering to Tlaxaklotl, the lord of the void and master of the darkness.
Nahum stood with a heavy heart, this was not only the end of his journey but also the end of himself. Still looking at the entrance, he moved his hand to his chest, stroking the finger bone he had been wearing around his neck as a pendent, a constant reminder of the purpose of his pilgrimage and his sins. He thought about the circumstances leading to this moment, what he could have done differently and how he had failed her. Then a sense of clarity came over him once more, what was done was done and now it is time for him to atone and do right. Continue reading