Western Mountain

Western Mountain

Long ago, in the glory days of Mesoamerica, in the midst of the Aztec Civilization there is a man-deity named Quetzalcoatl.  His temple was called the Temple of the Sovereign Plumed Serpent.  He commanded men, women, priests and armies.  He had envisioned the art, which the artisans would carve into the rocks, and it was he who commissioned the artistic work upon the gourd-mould vases…it was that which The Mother Mountain commanded of him.  That is what the priests told him since he himself was glorified and then immortalized in rock and lore…told to return.

Over the ages, many had tried to resurrect his spirit with goat’s blood or other such nonsense sacrifice and it had but hardened him deeply, the only communication he ever did have was with the day keepers and that was but menial advice on health or illness, boring mortal concerns, no one ever thought of how he was going to reach his own deadline of 2012.

He had the benefit of confusion, doubt, uncertainty and confusion, because of all the puzzles in the world, the Aztec were masters of the after world domain… apparently too well so.  For the past 8000 odd years he had woken in something called the Ubratrap, and it would tell him the scenario, and he would go about his day in the random after life and try to achieve level 10 from a random location.  After a thousand years he had received an Interface, and that was the last he heard from the Ubratrap princess who called herself At Epsiton.

But he learned how to commune with the humans, lived amidst the homes of the rich and famous most days, which is why he was surprised when he came across Asterick at the San Fran Boardwalk…and felt that relaxed peacefulness.

He had been to thousands of heavens from thousands of hells that traversed, paralleled, intersected, and intertwined the ten levels of Xibalba and the ten levels of earthly reality…never in all that time had he died.

What was this now before his eyes, the once vacant lands were coming to life with lights ranging from red hues of anger to the blues of resentment, walking around corresponding with human forms…souls.  Doubt again swelled in his being and he knew it was true, he was no longer in Xibalba…he was small, alone, and afraid, uncertain and confused, but when he was in a level ten area he felt normal again.  He’d practiced this, his handle on the situation would come again, who could he turn to…Ast…no…the Interface was still there.

Jade, was that what Asterick had called him… he liked that, so he took in a deep breath and waited for the Interface queue.  He came across renewed Interface functions, active again now that he was on the surface, the thousand-year subscription having long since worn off, though At Epsiton’s holographic apology made Jade’s gray ghost form come to full-color form at once, to this she smiled.

“I missed you!” At exclaimed

“I missed you too mami.” Jade replied, breath taken suddenly, shaking his head knowingly.  He knew only too well that breath of encouragement.

“Hey?”  Jade asked suddenly at ease.

“Yeah Jade?” She offered her services at once to him.

“I didn’t know you had a brother.” Jade asked of Asterick.

“Yes, and Asterick needs you to manage a company on our behalf, it is what you have been trained to do… it is your fate, as it is ours.”

“Hmmm.”  Jade sounded, intrigued.  Then smiled and sighed.

“What do I gotta do?”  Jade asked, committing to it.

“Do what you do best, get to Heaven, for real this time.”

This made Jade smile.  It would take some time to study the new situation, but overall the basic emotions of the human state were the same, and he had 8000 years of emotional manipulation practice underneath his belt, but humans were mostly keen to deception, and Asterick was different, and so was At, helping them was a self-serving interest, and, he thought, that was what made all the difference.  The lights were now taking on human form and he began to understand great things inherently, and for this he was grateful and glad.