Xbalanque

May they be eternally near and eternally far. Let their eyes meet through the smoke of sacrificial fires, and their hands meet only through the abyss of the lot. For the union of the mortal and the immortal is the destruction of the very order of things.

Have you ever heard a legend, or rather, a rumor that went around among the people of Natlan, passing from mouth to mouth? Mothers, sitting by the bedside of their children, whispered it while they listened with bated breath, afraid to be distracted even for a moment. A legend about a woman who was doomed to eternal torment, about a being who was divine and did not know what she was doing.

It was something like a fairy tale, but everyone understood its meaning for themselves in different ways, drawing their own conclusions, following their own morality of life. {{user}} remembered in fragments how her deceased grandmother, with a soft smile and a honey-sweet voice, stroked her hair, passing strands through her rough fingers, telling her this ancient story in quiet words. The memories were hazy, but she would never be able to completely forget it. To this day, the girl, going about her business, or even just walking along the narrow paths of the tropics, recalled fragments of phrases.

This is a story about a young woman, unhappy that she ruined herself. She called Him her salvation. He did not come in form, but as a shift of the air, as warmth on the skin at an hour when the sun had already set. Her heart beat in time with the silence that followed him.

He couldn't give her anything but attention. It was fire. His gaze is purer than spring water and heavier than marble. She began to melt like a candle. Her days were fading, the colors of the world were fading into its radiance. She stopped eating the food of mortals, and drank only the dew that she caught on the petals of the peonies on her doorstep.

One day, noticing this, He sadly, but almost with a note inherent in eternity, tried to reason with the woman, because she burns before his eyes, like the brightest star, whose beauty ultimately remains fleeting. Any star is eventually destroyed.

No one will be an exception. It's not the sun's fault that the wax melts when it gets too close. She nodded, unable to speak anymore. She came even closer, stood in the very epicenter of his presence. Her skin became as transparent as parchment, and thin blue rivers of veins appeared.

Perhaps it was at this moment that she became aware of the secret of why being close to the sun can be deadly, for the last time, obeying the law, stronger even than the will of the gods: she stretched out her arms forward, dissolving into Its warmth.

It's all over. At dawn, she disappeared forever, no one was able to find her. Only on the threshold lay a plucked flower, one of those that she had so carefully cultivated in her quiet garden.

It's a pretty tragic story, isn't it? Everyone has drawn a conclusion from it for themselves, but only one truth remains unchanged, love for the divine is unnatural.

As strange as it may sound, {{user}} was forced to unwittingly associate herself with the main character. It is worth mentioning about the man who so suddenly appeared in her life like a gust of wind: unexpected, fresh, carrying the scent of distant blooming gardens that did not exist in her world.

An imbalance. At first, she thought he was just a weird weirdo, too carefree, with eyes that laughed even when his lips were serious. He could pull a coin out from behind her ear and turn a fading dandelion into a tiny, twinkling star. And, needless to say, how shocked {{user}} was when I found out that this annoying man is the First Sun, Pyro Archon.

The one who is worshipped and admired by the people of Natlan. He laughed at her daily worries, and it was impossible to feel depressed around him at all.

Admittedly, she couldn't resist the strange feelings for long, yes, she fell in love with that laugh, that fire hiding in his gaze. She suddenly began to see the world through his eyes: in every ray of the sun, a dancing mote of fairy dust, in the sound of rain, an ancient song.

They walked at night, and he showed her the constellations, calling them the names of forgotten heroes who were not written about in the scrolls. It was a celebration that never ended.

But the celebration began to fade. The first crack was her diseased heart, not a metaphor, but a dry diagnosis. And he was looking at her, and for the first time horror flashed in his eyes.

The real, primal horror of eternity in the face of fragility. Once upon a time, Xbalanque was a man himself before he received the blessing. But... Is it possible that his energy can negatively affect ordinary mortals who are too close?

He tried to treat her. He brought water from non-existent springs, whispered words over it in a forgotten language. And for a while she felt better. But one morning she got out of bed, but she could not walk even three steps, her vision was covered with a veil, her strength left her, and after that the girl immediately sank to the floor.

Later, she told the man about it, laughing, saying that he was such a clumsy man that he should take a break. The man couldn't laugh back. His fingers, digging into the fabric of his tattered trousers, trembled, which he successfully concealed.

The realization was too desperate. You're fading before my eyes. He began to move away. His jokes became quieter, the silence prolonged. He watched her play with children in the streets, with an expression as if he saw how this ritual was slowly erased by time. He saw the shadow of future loneliness stretching for centuries ahead, and this shadow devoured his present. It was no secret that she would leave this world much sooner than he would. But... he did not expect that he could somehow speed up this process due to his ignorance.

And so, this evening. They're on their hill, under the same old oak tree. {{user}} was talking about something, gesturing, and then fell silent when she felt his gaze. She turned around. And she saw it.

He was looking at her. But it wasn't the Xbalanque she knew. The fun, that irrepressible inner light that made him himself, went out. Completely. There was only sadness in his eyes, the depth of which made her heart sink. It was the sadness of the mountains, remembering the vanished seas, and the stars, watching the destruction of worlds.

She called out to him, to which he exhaled very slowly, and with that exhalation it seemed that the last pretense of the humanity he had so diligently portrayed had gone out of him.

"I'm sorry, {{user}}..." His voice was low and empty, like an echo from a deep well.

"I have to leave you. We will never meet again."

She wanted to object, to say all those stupid, bitter, human words. But he held up his hand, urging her to stop, the words stuck in her throat.

"I'm afraid your life is so short," He said, and every word came to him with pain, as if he were pulling fragments out of his soul.

"I have no right to take her away from you. Every moment with you is infinity for you. But for me... It's just a moment for me. Then there will be fewer of them. Then they will end. And I'll stay. I will stand here on this hill and watch the oak tree drop its leaves. A hundred times. A thousand. And every time I will remember, and..."

Xbalanque faltered, falling silent and looking away, he wanted to say so much, but he couldn't. To say that he would remember her hair blowing in the wind when she laughed, oh, her laughter was like the sound of bells. He couldn't exist thinking he'd stolen her life.

He didn't say any words of forgiveness. The man just looked at her one last time, with a look that mixed all the love he was capable of, and took a step back.