The sun rose over Chichen Itza, casting a golden hue across the newly built city. The towering walls and magnificent structures reflected the determination and skill of its people, who had worked tirelessly to bring Yaxkin's vision to life.
Today was the day they would celebrate the city's inauguration, and anticipation filled the air as preparations for the festival reached their peak.
In the central plaza, the final touches were being added. Colorful banners fluttered in the breeze, adorned with the symbols of the Viatori Empire, and tables lined with earthenware dishes and stone grills were arranged around the square. Everywhere, scents of food wafted, rich and inviting.
Yaxkin moved through the crowd, inspecting the arrangements. His expression was one of quiet satisfaction; he had seen each step of this city's growth, each brick laid, each wall raised. Today was not only a celebration of Chichen Itza but of the unity and resilience of his people.
"Your Highness!" called Xiu, one of the cooks supervising the food stalls, waving him over with a grin.
"I must say, the people will eat like kings today."
Yaxkin chuckled.
"What do we have here, Xiu? The scents alone could keep a man full."
Xiu lifted a steaming pot, revealing a deep, aromatic broth.
"Pozole, my prince! Corn, rich and fragrant we find a plant similar to Gracea, cooked with tender cuts of meat, simmered for hours to draw out every flavor."
"We've seasoned it with herbs we found growing along the eastern riverbanks to add a bit of sharpness, and a touch of Ikal's earthiness."
Nearby, another group of cooks worked on preparing enchiladas. Soft corn tortillas were filled with spiced meat and cheese, folded over, and topped with a sauce as red as the sunrise, made from the wild chiles Yaxkin had helped them identify. Xiu gestured toward them with pride.
"Ah, and these enchiladas, layered with spices! Each bite brings the fire and warmth of Viatori to our new home."
In another corner, the unmistakable aroma of mole filled the air a thick, dark sauce of chocolate, chiles, and spices, covering tender pieces of meat. Xiu explained,
"The mole is a reminder of home, Yaxkin. Rich, complex, with layers upon layers of flavor. Like our people."
Yaxkin sampled a small piece and smiled, savoring the balance of bitterness and spice, the earthy flavors grounding him in the memory of their homeland.
As the morning progressed, drums and flutes began to play, their sounds filling the plaza. The instruments, crafted by local artisans using wood and metals found in Ikal, had a unique tone, blending the familiar with the strange.
The music's rhythm was steady, pulsing, calling to each heart in the city.
Among the crowd, Kuk clapped Yaxkin on the shoulder, a broad smile lighting his face.
"Look at them, Yaxkin. Just look! They've brought a piece of Viatori here, to Ikal. And to think, we thought it impossible just a few months ago."
Yaxkin nodded, his gaze sweeping over the crowd.
"It's more than I hoped for, Kuk. I see families, neighbors, and new friends. This city is the future of Viatori, a new start for so many."
Noíl approached, holding two clay cups filled with a golden liquid.
"And here's something new to drink to that future."
She handed one to Yaxkin, raising her own in a toast.
"To Chichen Itza, and to those who made it possible."
Yaxkin took a sip, savoring the sharp yet warming taste. The drink, called Xan, was brewed from a grain they'd found near the southern mountains. Thanks to his visualization power, he'd identified the plant's potential, leading to this new creation. It was reminiscent of the alcoholic beverages of his memories from Earth, yet with a distinct richness unique to Ikal.
As he sipped, Yaxkin felt a surge of pride in his people's resilience and resourcefulness. The celebrations continued with dancing and laughter, songs of the old world mingling with the joy of the new.
As the afternoon wore on, Yaxkin took a moment to observe the recruits training at the edge of the plaza. They practiced the newly created Viatori sword style, Léets, under the guidance of a group of seasoned warriors.
The effects of Ikal's Ch'ulel-infused air were evident: many of the recruits had awakened new abilities, reaching the rank of Practitioners almost overnight. Among them, a hundred or so had risen to the level of Professional Apprentice, the promising few who'd displayed innate skill with the blade.
Kuk joined him, gesturing toward the recruits with admiration.
"Look at them, Yaxkin. The power of Ch'ulel flows through them like a river. They're learning fast, stronger than ever."
Yaxkin smiled with satisfaction, watching the recruits spar.
"Ikal has given them strength, yes. But the real gift is their spirit. They've come together as one no grudges, no divisions. Just purpose."
Noíl observed a particularly skilled recruit and remarked, "Léets has brought out something in them, something primal. They're connecting with their ancestors' knowledge yet creating something entirely new."
The recruits worked with the tools forged by the talented blacksmith family Yaxkin had discovered. The crude weapons crafted from newly mined copper and black iron glinted in the sunlight, wielded by those who had dedicated themselves to defending this burgeoning city.
As night began to fall, Yaxkin took his place at the head of the plaza, looking out over the assembled crowd. The celebration had reached its peak, and the sounds of music and laughter filled the air.
"People of Viatori!" he called, his voice ringing out.
"Today, we stand on the threshold of something extraordinary. Chichen Itza is more than a city. It is our heritage reborn, a place where we carry forward the wisdom and strength of those who came before us."
Cheers erupted, the voices of thousands rising like a wave.
"This place," he continued, "will be a home for us, for our children, and for every generation that follows. We have worked together, built together, and today, we feast together. Our Empire endures, because we endure."
The crowd roared again, the pride and joy in their faces making Yaxkin's heart swell. He raised his cup of Xan in a final toast, and across the plaza, cups rose in unison, clinking and spilling over with celebration.
As the festivities continued, Yaxkin found a quiet moment to reflect. Watching the faces around him, his heart felt both full and heavy, touched by the memory of another world. He looked up at the stars above, their brightness familiar yet foreign, and whispered to himself, a soft, bittersweet reminder of the life he had left behind.
The thought lingered as he turned back to his people, ready to lead them toward the future, with memories he could never share, and a heart that beat for the world he had vowed to build.