Book of Fates ✔

Back into the past

Inside the house was a thick darkness, only the cracks in the walls shooed the shadows away. Save for a big round rug on the wooden floor, there was no furniture. The rug, though, suggested that it once had rich golden embroidery. As Anya's eyes adjusted to the gloom, she also noticed something on one of the walls that was concealed with a piece of rumpled clothes.

"All of your trips are this odd?" Anya whispered in Rill's ear, looking around the room. A home usually characterized its owner. Yet, in here was hard to conclude anything.

Meanwhile, Capac sat right on the rug and made an inviting gesture, encouraging everyone to join him.

Rill shrugged casually. "I'm shocked as well," she whispered back and, before sitting, added, "But what is it if not the beginning of something truly interesting?"

The daitias and Anya seated themselves on the floor, exchanging tense glances. Nikk and Daphne seemed to be the wariest, their eyes restlessly searching, jaws tightened, both ready to sprint and attack at the sight of a slightest danger. Amarillis was simply shining with joy, while Eirney took his time to brush dust off the rug in the place he was going to sit.

Anya knew she had to feel highly suspicious, but still couldn't fight an increasingly growing curiosity inside her.

As everyone finally settled, indistinct footsteps were heard from outside. A young man wearing stripped poncho entered the hut, a lit candle in his hands.

"This is my nephew Sinchi," Manco introduced him.

Sinchi uttered not a word. He took the piece of clothes off the wall, revealing a gold bas-relief carving of a roundish face with hieroglyphs and patterns spreading in different directions like sunrays. It made the relief truly look like a sun, and its features, Anya thought, resembled the ones of Manco.

Capac's nephew placed the candle before the relief, and the whole room was instantly filled with warn light. He spoke briefly to his uncle in their native language, nodded, shyly flicking his eyes to the guests, and left.

"Hey, look," Eirn said quietly to his friends, his eyes wide and fixed on the carved relief, "those symbols, the map has exactly the same! What do you think is it?"

"Not what is it, but who is it," Capac corrected him, his face bright with laughter. "He is Viracocha. The greatest Pachacuti who our people worship since the beginning of time. The creator of our realm."

Footsteps reached their ears once again, and Sinchi returned, carrying a tray of food and a jug. He made an attempt to smile, but blushed in rich red as he put the tray on the floor before the guests.

"Ku-ma-ra," he said with a rather strong accent, pointing at the plate, and hurried away to sit in the corner of the room, away from the daitias and Anya.

"Sweet potatoes," Manco translated, filling the mugs with what was in the jug. "And this is called ayahuasca, a drink of knowledge."

At the sight of the food, Anya's stomach groaned, betraying her hunger. She ate nothing since the morning, yet she hesitated. Outside the house, the world grew mistrustfully quiet, and shadows the candle flame creating danced menacingly across the walls and the ceiling. The whole atmosphere was, say at least, spine-chilling.

"Well, are you going to tell us about Paititi?" Daphne asked Capac in a businesslike tone. She watched every move of the old man. Anya could only guess what the daitian was trying to see.

Manco finishing filling the mugs and said, "Let me ask you a question first." His bushy eyebrows shot up teasingly. "Are you ready to go back into the past?"

Next to Anya, Nikk frowned, "What do you mean?"

"Many centuries ago," the old man intoned, ignoring Nikk's question, "as many as none can any longer remember, people of Inca lived knowing nothing of the good and the evil. Not cognizing what love is and what is betrayal, they knew not how to tell a truth from a lie. And they lived that way for many years... Until once, shining gods Pachacuti came out of the waters of Mamakuna lake. They taught the first Inca how to tame the Nature, how to fight the Chaos. They taught us what happiness is and what is life... Time obliterated much of the human memory, including his name... The true name of the great Pachacuti. Nonetheless, we remember his deeds, and thus we call him Viracocha, which means the Creator of the World."