The splendid morning sun rose from the horizon, with dawn’s light floating like strands of gold silk, converging into bands of morning glow. Samurai Xiulote stood shoulder to shoulder with Aweit, their pupils reflecting the burning red sun, their chests stirred with grand emotions from afar. It wasn’t until the sky turned completely bright and the sun became unbearable to look at that the two kings bid each other farewell.
Xiulote returned to his tent. He summoned the veteran Scout Necali and inquired in a low voice about the previous night’s progress, then nodded in satisfaction, letting him go to make preparations. Next, with a wave of his hand, he dismissed Bertade to rest and carefully took out a roll of exquisite cotton cloth from his bosom, delicately unfolding it.
With the sunlight pouring down from above, Xiulote eagerly looked at it, and crooked, scribbled handwriting came into view, with crude drawings between the paragraphs.
"...Xiulote, it’s been a year since I’ve seen you! Do you know, I miss you so much. This is what I look like when I’m missing you..."
Xiulote looked closely, and at the end of the paragraph was a simple drawing of a little figure, sitting on the ground with legs hugged, in front of a few red roses. The young man zoned out for a moment, then eagerly continued reading.
"...Little Aviloztli has grown bigger already, half as big as me! It’s not afraid of the little green one anymore. It can fly very fast, carrying my longing to you... It can fly very high, up to the distant places like you... But after flying, it always returns to my side... You’ll come back too, right?..."
Xiulote blinked his eyes. He looked at the crude drawing of the little bird, a white cloud beside it, and a small snake underneath looking up... Longing flooded into his heart like a tide.
"...I am now a qualified Pharmacist! I can remember the properties of hundreds of herbs, I can make many potions that heal ailments, and I can also mix Holy Water that makes people happy... Father says I am the spirit of the plants, but I said, ’No, I am Xiulote’s spirit.’... Hmm, Father suddenly became unhappy..."
Xiulote chuckled upon reading this, a warmth flowing through his heart. At the end of the paragraph was a drawing of a small hand holding a green herb. He touched the drawing at the end, as if he were holding the girl’s soft, slender fingers.
"...I’ve grown up a little more, and the maids all say I am pretty, like a beautiful white flower... They also say I smell like a flower, but I can’t smell it myself... Um, is that true? Xiulote, would you like to come smell me, and then tell me the answer..."
The young man’s heart pounded suddenly as he continued to read, listening to the girl’s whispers.
"Alright, draw a flower, then draw a Hummingbird... I am a little flower, waiting for you. I want to turn you into a Hummingbird, flying very fast, all the way to my side. If the Hummingbird lands in the flower, I will enfold it, and it will enter my heart too...
...I will also feed it sweet dew, the very sweet kind... Um, if you don’t believe me, you can come and kiss me...
...I even want to look into his eyes, from day to night, just like the stars in the sky..."
Xiulote forgot to breathe. A strong longing surged in his chest, even causing palpitations. He looked at the girl’s drawing, picturing her appearance. At that moment, he wanted to become an eagle, flying back to the Lake Capital City, wanting to hold her in his arms and never let go...
After a long while, the young man pursed his lips and began to read the last part of the letter.
"...Xiulote, I’ve heard a lot of news about you in the Capital City... Everyone is in awe of you... I am happy but also worried... The battlefield is very dangerous, you and father must take good care of yourselves! You two are the people I love the most in this world...
Before setting out, Father asked me a terrible question. ’If one of Xiulote and I were to die in battle, whom would you choose?’... I was very afraid, terribly afraid... I told Father, ’If the gods must take someone away, I would choose to sacrifice myself’... Father was silent for a while... He promised me he would be alright... Xiulote, you must promise me too..."
At the end of the letter were drawings of two samurai figures, one taller with a weapon in his left hand, the other shorter with a weapon in his right hand. And between them was another simple figure, with each hand holding a samurai’s hand, then, her face showing a radiant smile.
Xiulote was silent for a long time. He stared at the drawing at the end, at the smile of the tiny figure, yearning for the distant person. After a long time, he once again carefully rolled up the letter and placed it close to his heart. Next, he touched a soft Sachet. The young man sniffed the sachet, inside was a faint floral scent. He carefully opened it only to find a lock of hair.
Xiulote was stunned, slowly bowing his head, pressing the sachet tightly against his face. It wasn’t until a while later that he murmured a promise.
"Yes, you are the scented flower... I promise you... that both Aweit and I will... be alright."
The sunlight fell, the breeze wafted, and the flowers of spring bloomed in the fields of the Lake Region. The young king’s promise would accompany the blossoms, drifting into the river of time~
At the same moment, at a not-too-distant place, atop the South City wall of Qinchongcan City...
"Is this a letter from Prince Mexica?"
Huitu Puapu stood in the corner of an attic on the city wall, surrounded only by a few trusted samurai and Militia. He lifted the pristine sheet of paper above his head, examining it thoroughly in the light of the morning sun.
"Old Qi, what exactly is written on this?"