Part 1
The small shop was calm and quiet. As expected from a pharmacy or, more specifically, an apothecary, upon entering, the complex scents of herbs enveloped you as you crossed the door. Shelves were filled with jars and ceramic containers, each carefully labeled with the name of its contents—herbs and oils ranging from the most common to the least known.
A hostess, who appeared youthful, sat quietly on the floor, yet her expression was far from at ease. There was little she could do, so she simply watched Alejandro's exhausted face, gently stroking his head as if he were a small child.
"You don't know how much I wish I could help you," she murmured, her voice barely audible, laced with sorrow. "It must be so hard for you."
That aching feeling in her chest—the helplessness of being unable to do anything—consumed her entirely. As if searching for that pain with her own hands, she felt her own desperate heartbeat. It pounded like that of someone who had just run a long distance.
"This can't be real…" she gasped, struggling to steady her breath. "Focus, you have to focus. Why now? I've never felt such a strong connection with a patient before."
She inhaled and exhaled repeatedly, trying to calm herself. Lowering her gaze, she placed her hands on her lap.
"What can I do to help him? Think."
She closed her eyes for a moment, searching within herself for a solution, any way to reverse the inevitable. But what she found was even more terrifying—a vision, clear and brutal.
She saw Alejandro's future. She saw his life come to an end at the hands of Elsa Santillan III, in a death so cruel and merciless that her heart shrank in horror. In the vision, Elsa attained the glory she so desperately sought, while Alejandro perished under her relentless hand.
A tremor ran through her body, but it wasn't just the cold of the shop that consumed her. It was the cold of fate itself.
How could destiny be so cruel? She asked herself over and over, but there was no answer. No matter how hard she searched, the future always led to the same outcome. There was no escape, no possibility of change. He would die by Elsa's hand… or if she died, the result would be the same. A closed, unbreakable cycle.
Her hands began to tremble as she continued stroking Alejandro's head, trying to maintain her composure. But no matter how hard she tried, tears welled up in her eyes. She shut them tightly, trying to hold them back, but they fell uncontrollably down her face.
It was unfair.
Alejandro, who had only ever sought a peaceful life, was trapped in a fate that condemned him from every direction.
She sighed, defeated. After desperately searching, she asked herself—had the future she longed for ever truly existed? She had always been able to find it… but this time, she could not.
"I'm sorry…" she sobbed, her voice breaking. "I'm so sorry. All I can do is watch you suffer… and even though I wish for it with all my heart, I can't help you. I can't do anything…"
Her cries echoed through the shop, each tear stripping away the pain in her chest.
*
Somewhere Else
In a place where darkness reigned absolute, Alejandro floated, lost in an endless void. Here, the senses seemed to have faded away. There was no warmth, no cold, no time. Only an eternal nothingness.
What did he feel? Even he didn't know. Perhaps pain, or maybe anguish. Confusion? All those emotions were valid, but at this moment, the only thing he could perceive was a strange neutrality. As if the void had consumed him entirely.
"I can't believe it," he muttered, his own voice echoing in the emptiness like a distant whisper. "Ha... ha... ha…" The laughter that followed was bitter and hollow. "How ironic. My fate lies in the hands of a dictator."
He stretched out his arms and legs, forming the shape of a star. His neutral expression never wavered, yet he let out a laugh so convincing it almost seemed genuine.
"Ha… ha… and to think that, in the end, all I ever wanted was a simple, ordinary life," he murmured nostalgically. "I would've liked to retire from being a warrior… and become a househusband…"
The void remained silent.
"What a stupid dream… My father would be so disappointed in me."
He kept speaking into the emptiness, not expecting an answer, just to fill the silence surrounding him. Maybe it was a defense mechanism against the loneliness creeping in. And the more he spoke, the more he realized how absurd his words were. It was as if, by saying these small truths out loud, he was forcing himself to face the cruel reality of his life.
"I should have married that girl… the one who liked me so much," he continued, with another bitter chuckle. "But no… instead, I dedicated myself to training, to fighting, and now, at thirty, here I am… alone, with no one by my side."
The silence seemed to swallow his words, devouring them as if they had never been spoken. Alejandro remained still for a moment, floating in the void.
Maybe he was going crazy.
Perhaps the grim fate awaiting him was playing tricks on his mind, dragging him slowly into despair.
"Ha… ha… ha… ha!"
After those empty laughs, an idea crossed his mind.
"I suppose… if my end is that miserable, I should end it myself. At least… I could make it painless…"
But the darkness interrupted him before he could finish his thought.
A sound.
A cry.
A cry that shook him to his very core.
"I'm sorry!" The hostess's voice echoed in the darkness, distant yet as clear as if she were right beside him.
Alejandro reached out into the void, searching for that voice, searching for something to hold onto.
Something to pull him back.
Something to break him out of those thoughts.
"Mom… don't cry…" he murmured, almost unconsciously. "Even if Dad is gone… I'll… I'll be here with you."
The echo of his own words brought him back to the reality of his solitude.
In that dark void, there was only him… and the fading echoes of a life that had slipped away too soon.
Part 2
The echo of his own words still resonated in the dark void when everything changed. Gradually, the weight of the surrounding darkness began to fade. The murmur of the real world, so distant and alien during his reverie, was returning to him. The sensation of being lost in an eternal abyss dissipated, replaced by the familiar creaking of wood and the gentle aroma of herbs filling the small shop.
Alejandro slowly opened his eyes, still feeling the pressure of the void in his chest. There he was again, cradled in the hostess's arms. Her face remained as serene as before, but her eyes reflected a deep concern.
The silence grew awkward, both lost in their own thoughts. Neither seemed to know what to say in a moment like this. The tension hung palpable in the air until the hostess decided to break it.
"Little one… would you like to go for a walk?" her voice was soft, with a slight hint of unease, yet she tried to sound natural. "It's your first time here, isn't it?"
Alejandro frowned, a small expression of displeasure crossing his face.
"You know, I'm 30 years old. I'm not some 'little one'," he replied, his tone edged with visible irritation.
Alejandro's reproach was met with a light, spontaneous laugh. The hostess covered her mouth with her hands as if trying to stifle her laughter, but her eyes sparkled with a gleam that Alejandro hadn't seen in all the time he'd been in the shop.
The pain they both felt slowly eased with each exchange of words.
"What's so funny?" he asked, somewhat puzzled and annoyed at the same time.
She shook her head, but couldn't help a softer laugh escaping her lips. An unexpected warmth seemed to arise between them. Alejandro wasn't sure if it was a trick or simply part of the hostess's charm.
"It's nothing," she replied, though there was still a trace of laughter in her voice. "It's just that, to me, you're still a little child."
Alejandro scoffed, yet he couldn't help the softening of his angry expression. How could it be that after everything that had happened, someone could make him feel so... normal? Despite his irritation, there was something in that situation that he found strangely comforting. Perhaps, he thought, a walk through this city—a place so foreign to everything he knew—wouldn't be such a bad idea.
He slowly stood up, his body still heavy with exhaustion. The hostess watched him in silence, a gentle smile on her face, as if patiently waiting for him to accept her offer. Alejandro looked around, momentarily recalling where he was. This wasn't just any city.
Outside, beyond the walls of the shop, lay a place he was only beginning to understand. It was the blessed city of "Tlalocan," where the amazing god Tlaloc, the god of rain and thunder, was revered.
"All right," he finally said, letting out a soft sigh. "Let's go for that walk. But don't call me 'little one'—my name is Alejandro, understood!"
"Of course, little one. Oops! I'm sorry, Alejandro. Hmm, I don't think I introduced myself. My name is Citlalli," she said with a smile.
He only smiled, resigned to teasing her—there was something very charming about the way she said it. Intrigued by her name, Alejandro raised an eyebrow.
"Citlalli? I believe I've heard that before—it means 'star,' if I'm not mistaken."
"Exactly. It seems you're quite the little connoisseur. Although I wouldn't say I always live up to the name," she responded with a light laugh. "But I can try, if that means I can help you."
After their brief chat, Alejandro waited outside the shop. Apparently, she had told him to wait out front while she took a bath and changed her outfit.
His heart couldn't help but beat wildly—after all, she was a beauty, even in the outfit she wore, as he now saw it.
"Sorry to keep you waiting," Citlalli said, her soft voice seeming to vibrate in the air.
Alejandro opened his eyes and, for a moment, was left breathless.
There she was, with a beauty that disarmed him. But what caught his attention most was her attire: a fine dress that shimmered under the city's dim light. The dress, embroidered with golden and green threads, contrasted perfectly with the red flowers adorning the skirt—a masterpiece of fabric that moved gracefully as she walked. The white blouse, adorned with lace, highlighted the delicacy of her neck and collarbones, while the shawl draped over her shoulders seemed to flutter gently in the breeze.
Alejandro had seen many things in his life, but he had never seen anything like this. The hostess's elegance and bearing, wrapped in that traditional attire, made her seem like an apparition—a blend of the earthly and the divine.
It was pure beauty, he thought. Not only because of the dress's splendor, but also in the way she carried it, with a tranquility that made everything around seem to pause. Alejandro couldn't help but feel hypnotized, as if her presence were the only thing that mattered in that moment.
Citlalli smiled, with an almost mystical calm, as if she understood exactly the effect she had on him.
"Shall we?" she asked, her voice soft yet firm, as though the question needed no answer.