In her chamber of the San Marcos teocalli, Lucero stared at her naked body reflected in the full-length mirror. She used to be beautiful, before the scarring. Before her addiction to the blood, her slavery to the dark stain on her soul.
Her head was bald, dark brown skin shaved smooth. The shape of her skull was delicate and pretty, like an egg. Her face was unmarred as well. Large eyes the color of worn leather, faded from time but resilient and strong. Her narrow nose was delicate and her mouth full.
Below the neck, however, her brown skin was a tapestry of scars. Deep-etched runes, like embossed tattoos bled of their ink. They covered her arms and shoulders, her breasts and stomach, back and buttocks, thighs and legs. Such mutilation was a hideous and unnatural thing.
For the briefest of moments, she could see the woman she had been before Oscuro had found new uses for her. She could see the bright, intelligent eyes, the smooth, young skin stretched tight across her stomach. Unblemished and supple. She could feel what it had been like to sense the delicate touch of a man or a woman. To be desired.
The moment passed-a cloud across the sun.
A temple servant poked her head through the doorway. "Senior Oscuro is ready for you," she said.
Lucero turned. She would go to Oscuro, the dark man with the black soul, so dark that his aura was a confusion of blank patches. She would go to him and let him tempt her with the blood, and she would do this for one reason alone. She wanted to return to the place of light and beautiful song. He would send her there again, and perhaps she would get to stay this time.
She knew deep down that Oscuro wanted to destroy that place, or change it so fundamentally that its beauty was ruined, but she could not stop that. She could only obey and hope that the goddess of the song would prevail, that the music would wash away the taint of Lucero's blood.
She followed the servants into the sanctuary as before, and as before, Senor Oscuro waited at the altar for her to arrive. She said a silent prayer to Quetzalc6atl as she passed his sculpture, asking to be free of her addiction. To be beautiful again before she died. For she knew that she would be vulnerable to the blood that Oscuro would use. She would shudder with want for its taste, and without help, she would succumb.
Oscuro escorted her up onto the altar, and bade her lie down. Lucero heard the chant of the Gestalt then, and remembered that the blood mages were conducting a ritual at the apex of the temple. They were assembled to add to her power. After having been part of them for so long, it felt strange to have the group so close now, and yet not be able to join them.
She knew what they looked like, ten humans in ceremonial robes, sitting in a circle. Their skin, like hers, was marred with runic scars where they had cut themselves to power the blood magic. And as they sat and chanted, connected by physical tubing that allowed the blood to circulate from one to another through the whole Gestalt, the blood mages coalesced into one astral entity. One magical creature that held the sum of their combined power.
Part of Lucero still longed for the days when her blood became one with the Gestalt entity. Part of her still yearned for that power. But the Gestalt Blood Mages did not know of the song; they did not share in the beauty of the light. Perhaps they were too deeply scarred to see beauty anymore.
The chanting increased in volume as she lay on the stone altar. The rhythmic voices grew in volume as she entered the trance. As she fell into the dark embrace, the abyss of Oscuro's spell.
When she opened her eyes, she was assaulted by the beauty. Confronted by the wonderful brightness that radiated from the goddess. The song filled Lucero with its splendor,
washing through every pore of her mangled skin to replenish her beauty. She felt young and clean.
But the light could not penetrate the blackened spot in her heart. She wanted it to fill the bottomless well of her taint, but it could not. And soon she felt the power of the Blood Mage ritual within her, and the additional mana of the huge obsidian stone. The Locus, not yet fully active.
The stain within her grew, spreading like an infection against the pure white. Like a pestilence over pristine land. Soon Lucero could see her feet on the hard, cracked stone. The light retreated a few meters around her as the blood strength coursed through her. She was strong again, a part of a greater whole.
She hadn't felt that way since she'd lost her power and was exiled from the Gestalt. Now she was one of them again-the focus of their power.
The darkness kept growing and growing until Lucero found that she could move inside the black circle. She heard the perverted cries and moans of the creatures who were frozen across the chasm by the song. They longed for Lucero to succeed; they wanted the goddess rent limb from torso. The dark part of Lucero understood their desires.
Suddenly, Senor Oscuro appeared in her circle, standing next to her with his hand over his eyes, shielding them from the light. The widening darkness allowed him the space to come across himself. Oscuro grimaced in pain from the sound of the exquisite music, even though it was muffled and weak at the center of the black circle.
He muttered something and an acolyte appeared-a boy of about thirteen. Oscuro drew a ceremonial sword of obsidian black-a macauitl. The acolyte stood stunned, hypnotized by magic. Oscuro swung the sword, making a clean cut through the boy's neck. The boy's head fell to the ground, and blood gushed from the severed neck, spraying the ground with its ichor as the body bent and doubled over.
Lucero watch in fascination as Oscuro dragged the boy by his feet, marking out a circle with his blood. The song dulled more as the circle of blood was reinforced with that of two other acolytes. Until Lucero could barely hear it from where she stood in the center of the dark stain.
She felt herself crying. She was destroying beauty, possibly the very essence of goodness. She was scarring the earth beneath her feet just as she had scarred her own flesh. Just as she had marred her own beauty. It was already too late for her, she knew that now. And soon, if Oscuro got his wish, it would be too late for the rest of the world.