Emilia
“The day the sun meets the moon, your family will meet hope.”
Tamichi, the blind prophet of Tacoma
I was six years old when I heard these words, and I remember seeing a bright light at the foot of Tamichi’s bed. My mom had visited the blind prophet who had been preserved by the village of Tacoma for 125 years. After my father’s death, my mom fell into a state of grief for years and could not bear another death in the family. She was eager to know if it was worth living if she witnessed someone she loved die. I was my mom’s only daughter; I was her pride and her legacy. She wanted to know if I would die soon, but the prophet’s response seemed unclear to my mom. Although the prophet spoke simple words, he knew the day that he spoke about would be of no surprise to him. He looked at me and smiled.
My name is Emilia, and this is my story.
My family and I lived in the village of Tacoma in Chichen Itza. The Mayan central city was only a few miles away from our village. Our village was rich in vegetation and we would harvest the best corn. Every year, Emperor Babajide would send his soldiers to collect our corn and our women. The soldiers would take girls who were deemed beautiful and fertile. The Mayan emperor had an obsession in having an heir to his throne, but all the women who he had slept with could not bear him a son. It was said among villagers that after he would use the women for pleasure and could not bear him a son, he would behead them. People spoke horrors of the central city. Diseases were prevalent and slavery was not uncommon. My mom did everything she could to protect me, but I felt within me a deep truth that I did not speak of.
On the day of my birthday, when I turned seventeen, Babajide’s troops raided our village. They slashed the throats of those who hid their daughters and took our corn. There was a cry all over Tacoma. Some never recovered their sanity after that day. That day, on my birthday, I was stolen from my mother. She did everything she could to protect me, but my fate was inevitable. As I cried and yelled, I could feel the soldier’s rough hands on my neck and shoulders as they tore me away from my mother. The soldier took me away on his horse and I remember my mom kneeling and yelling of the pain of watching her daughter fade away into the distance.
It was a three-day travel to the central city. When I arrived, I could not bear to see the distorted faces of the once free villagers that became slaves. Their backs were covered in lashes and many had black bumps that plagued their skin and carried an awful odor. Rats swarmed the city, and those who were elderly were starved, therefore, they had no choice but to eat the rats. The city smelled unbearable, I felt like I could not breathe.
As I sat on the soldier’s horse and passed through the hopeless city of despair, I knew that something had to be done.
I was immediately taken to the castle with five other girls of my village. When I arrived too the castle my eyes widened with amazement. The castle was built of limestone, the floors were marble, and the walls had a wooden décor that was covered with clay-like symbols of the ancient Gods.
The soldiers brought us to the emperor. To my surprise he was handsome, but I can see that deep within him his soul was dark. He looked at each of us, and instantly picked me.
“Come here you! What is your name?
“My name is Emilia from the village of Tacoma,” I said with a soft voice.
“Tomorrow I want you to dress in white, you will be my wife and you will bear me the son I solely desire. Guards! Take her away and put her in her room.”
As I departed to my room, I cried all night and thought of my mom, my future, and told myself everything was lost. I cried myself to sleep and dreamt of the bright light I saw when I was six and had a warm feeling that made me feel safe.
The next day, as I peeked out my room, I heard one of the guards talking about how the emperor had the five girls beheaded as I was to be his wife. He felt like he did not need them, so he got rid of them.
The emperor’s exotic maids were brought to my room to get me ready for the ceremony. I was nervous, angry, sad and had a mixture of emotions running through my head. They dressed me in a white dress with colorful designs and bathed me in jewelry.
[Drums and Trumpets sound off]
Our wedding was announced. I stood on the pyramid of Mahuacatzil and Babajide held my hands. The priest began the ceremonial prayers making us husband and wife. As Babajide looked at me, I wondered away and could see the slaves below the pyramid suffering. A single tear from my eye dropped on the ground and suddenly a temblor began to take hold of the city. The sun moved and aligned itself to the earth and the moon, and a red brick color covered the sky.
I saw Babajide’s amazement and I felt a burst of anger for his ignorance and injustice to our people. Suddenly, I grabbed the Macuahuitl (a mayan weapon) and beheaded Babajide. As his head fell down the pyramid I yelled and said, “I am your empress now, all those who do not belong to this city retreat to your villages, go back to your families, and those who belong to this city rebuild it in its entirety.” Then a pure sharp pain took over me. I had been stabbed by one of Babajide’s faithful servants. The soldiers took the loyal servant away and told me I had to choose someone to rule the city. I said, “I choose my mom, Estasitwa, from the village of Tacoma.” Then the bright light I had seen as a child became clear. The hands of my ancestors were extended to me and I could see their delightful faces. I walked hand in hand with them and felt safe.
After three days, Estasitwa came to the city, and found Emilia dead. She grieved for days, but she knew that her daughter had not died in vain. She died for the justice and peace of the city. Estasitwa took the role as empress of the city with honor to her daughter and was known to be the greatest rulers of the Mayan city.
