Four Brothers

"What is the meaning of this!?"

The mad roar is followed by a bone-rattling thud, the impact causing the few candles' flames to flicker. Three shadows flutter in the ill-lit chamber as several manuscripts fall off of a sizeable shelf. The tall man picks himself up.

"Could you refrain from tarnishing my work?" he says sullenly, one eye peeking from beneath his messy hair. "Physical violence isn't much appreciated either…"

A series of odd sounds escape the perpetrator's gnashing teeth. He's been ready to throw all sense out the window ever since he stepped into the room… but his brother's disapproving look freezes him in place. It's hard to think clearly. Right now, there's only one thing, one desire inside his mind. To murder. Burn this whole place down. He sinks his long nails into his own palm to resist the urge of snapping.

"You're all so one-track-minded, the four of you," the gloomy god continues as he gathers the scattered scrolls.

"Why, you…"

"That's enough. From both. Of you," the third entity intervenes. "Our goal. Is to. Win this. But your. Methods I. Can not. Agree with." Two large folded wings sweep the floor as he moves closer to the others. "Beelzebub, you. Have disgraced. Our brothers. But you. Shan't receive. Divine retribution. For this. Is war. And we. Must strive. To win."

The giant deity watches his brother out of the corner of his eye. His fists are still balled, struggling to endure the strain of his own bottled-up anger. He lowers his head. It takes some squinting to notice in the dim light, but there's no doubt about it. Blood has begun dripping onto the otherwise pristine floor.

"You are. Making a. Mess, brother."

"Brother… No, Quetzalcoatl," the one making a mess starts. Although knowing how difficult that is right now, he begs himself to choose his words carefully. "Do you not care what happens to our brother? To our brothers?" He can't make his tone sound any calmer. As things stand, sparking yet another conflict wouldn't be of any use. But… "If that's the ending you're willing to pursue, maybe it's you I should've thrown against the wall instead."

Just as it was about to touch the exit gate's handle, Quetzalcoatl's hand stops. He remains of a terrifying stillness as he thinks about his brother's baseless statement. Beelzebub's words seem to ring true. Compared to those of other pantheons, the Aztec gods may really be one-track-minded.

"You could. Not have. Managed that. Brother Huitzilopochtli. You lack. The strength," the god concludes, pulling on the great door. "As for. Our brothers. It is. Not of. Our concern." He lowers his wings to fit through without touching and signals the other to follow. "Come, now. We might. Still witness. The battle."

Turning his back on them, Beelzebub picks up the remainder of the manuscripts with a displeased groan. Huitzilopochtli snatches his oversized helmet off the ground. All that effort for nothing. Coming all the way out here, making a fuss… And no explanation, no answer. Nothing. Even if it pains his pride to leave like this, it's the only way all three of them walk away unharmed. With Ragnarok still going, the last thing they need is for prominent deities to start fighting one another.

"It'll cost that bastard dearly if things don't fix themselves," he tells Quetzalcoatl as the door slams shut. But it sounds more like a prayer than a threat. "Why do I have to be the voice of reason? Hey, brother. Where are we even going? We don't even have a lobby to watch this thing…"

"It was. Not because. Of weakness."

"Huh?"

"Brother Tezcatlipoca. Didn't set. His sights. On him. Because he. Was weak," Quetzalcoatl spells out. "Our brother. Xipe Totec. Has never. Been disposable. But his. Latent potential. Could not. Go unnoticed."

Huitzilopochtli's eyes remain glued to the floor as they walk. He knows that already. In terms of combat ability, Xipe Totec has always been distinctly inferior to them. The latent potential Quetzalcoatl spoke of, on the other hand…

"He could never use his powers to their fullest. So, rather than let them go to waste, Tezcatlipoca chose to do this? Is that what you're saying, brother?"

Silence. A meaningless silence that, at the same time, holds many meanings. His guess was spot on. In order to win… No, not even. In order to take Xipe Totec's power for himself, Tezcatlipoca chose to betray everything they'd ever stood for.

"Wait. The gods' thirteen representatives. Then, the reason a weak guy like him was chosen to fight…" Huitzilopochtli's voice drifts off.

He knows he'd be met with the same glacial attitude. It's not hard to figure it out. For one, the other pantheons knew little of their brothers' strength. "Tezcatlipoca is the strongest, but he doesn't want to dirty his hands." That's all they ever needed to know. Taking his nature into account, Quetzalcoatl likely volunteered. Since Xipe Totec knew his limitations better than anyone, it was hard to imagine him agreeing to fight even if Zeus had himself ordered him to. With a little push from Tezcatlipoca, however… It was convenient for the others, too. Easily usable pawns, whose deaths wouldn't change much. "If they are to lose, they are unfit to live alongside us." If they were to win, then the other fighters would have their work cut out for them. And because, in their eyes, Quetzalcoatl was guaranteed to emerge victorious, that just left Xipe Totec.

"That's probably what those idiots were thinking," Huitzilopochtli quietly castigates. They're no more than assumptions, lacking any evidence. Or, they would be. But he knows exactly what kind of gods his brothers are. That's all the proof he needs. Even if some of the details could be off, surely that's more or less what happened. "Just give me a break…"

There's only one thing he can't wrap his head around. Why would Tezcatlipoca need or want to go to such lengths?

***

"Hey. Have you ever wondered what the world will look like in, say, one million years?" Tezcatlipoca asked Huitzilopochtli as they lay next to each other in the cold grass.

Long ago, the Sacred Lake of Omeyocan was the four Tezcatlipocas' rest place. A vast body of water, as still as the most serene night sky, bordered by an equally tranquil meadow. Huitzilopochtli propped himself up on an elbow. He wore a questioning look on his face.

"You know, they held another conference. That Conference of Mankind Survival thing. Humanity got another lease on life. For the next one thousand years, I think," his brother obliged. "I heard they sent some guys over to Thebes, though."

"Isn't this bad!? No, not the Thebes part. Shouldn't we have attended that thing?" Huitzilopochtli snapped.

Gentle wind swept over the blades of grass. Tezcatlipoca let his eyelids slide shut, taking in the relaxing feeling. It was so peaceful, just… existing in that space, unpreoccupied with anything in the world. He was the one who started the conversation, but, right then, he almost regretted it.

"We're Aztec gods, brother. It doesn't matter if the four of us play hooky," he claimed after a while. "That's partly what I was saying earlier. How many more Councils of the Gods do you think we'll get to see?"

Huitzilopochtli took his time to answer. Even if mankind got yet another thousand years, the gods sending an envoy to Midgard didn't sound like good news for the mortals. However, he knew how little it took to upset some of the greater deities, especially the pantheons' leaders. Perhaps the humans hadn't done anything wrong. Then again…

"Frankly, I've no idea," he concluded. "But what's it to you? For one, you don't seem to be all that interested in the conference itself."

Now it was Tezcatlipoca's turn to take his time. His brother had seen right through him. Whether the gods ended mankind or not was none of his business. In fact, it was probably convenient. No, that wasn't it. No matter how peaceful the era, the Greeks, the Egyptians, all of them…

"They'd just do whatever suits them. Like I said, none of our business. We're not minor deities by any means, yet no one takes us seriously. Ever wondered why?"

"I can't say I have." Huitzilopochtli's voice cracked as he stretched his back. "Why?"

"Our roles are over. So few deities actually bother to intervene in mortal affairs it's dispiriting. No matter how much humans worship them, it's all the same. Now they're sending someone to likely destroy an entire city. Just to show their might. In other words, I guess you could say I'm curious why they care. Why we should care." The god let out a half-hearted chuckle as he opened his eyes again. "Brother Quetzalcoatl spends all his time training. Brother Xipe Totec's still trying in vain to comprehend how his own abilities work. And we… We waste our time, gazing upon the same lake, lying on the same ground. Is there any meaning left in our existence? In the end, it doesn't matter. Nothing does."

***

Huitzilopochtli pinches the bridge of his nose, as the sudden headache almost brings him to his knees. The memories flooding his mind feel distant. So distant they might as well not belong to him. That day, he didn't say anything. He didn't try to understand his brother because he didn't realise there was something to be understood. The fine line between idle chatter and a cry for help… he didn't notice it.

"Was that the last time we had an actual conversation?" the god murmurs. "How did things become like this? No, maybe they've always been like this. I just didn't bother to look closer."