Write by the Cards: Day Twenty One
A Bold Action
If you’re new to The Rebel MFA Way, welcome! This is my daily work for my Write by the Cards: 30 Day Challenge that I’m hosting. Learn more here. Scroll down to the end to see my behind-the-scenes commentary and source material.
Feeling strong, the character decided to take bold action by {draw a card}.
Huitaca: The Owl Who Laughed at the Sun
It starts, as most bad ideas do, with too much wine and not enough fear of consequences. Huitaca, the goddess who liked her drink as much as her freedom, stood under the great, blinding arrogance of the midday sun, laughing. Not just a chuckle or a polite snort. No, this was a full-bellied, tears-down-your-face kind of laugh—the kind that makes gods nervous because it says, You don’t scare me.
Bochica, the so-called bringer of order, stood across the sky like an overbearing landlord. His light scorched the earth as he glared down at her, his golden staff in hand, probably monologuing in his head about how she was ruining everything. “You mock me,” he bellowed, voice echoing like an earthquake trying to sound important.
“Yes,” Huitaca said simply, swaying on her feet. “And I’ll keep mocking you, golden boy, because you’re boring.” She twirled a strand of her silver hair around her finger, knowing it shimmered under his light like defiance itself. “You want everyone to bow and scrape. Well, I’d rather dance.”
Her followers—farmers, weavers, and dreamers tired of working under Bochica’s endless rules—cheered. Someone passed her another cup of fermented chicha. She drank deeply and let the sour-sweet burn fuel her next words.
“What are you going to do? Curse me?”
The air crackled. Bad move, Huitaca.
•••
The first thing she noticed was the silence. No cheering, no laughing. Just the low hum of power gathering like storm clouds around Bochica. Huitaca glanced up, and the god of order was no longer a fussy landlord. He was the embodiment of wrath, his staff glowing white-hot as the wind whipped her hair into her eyes.
“You want to be wild? You want to be free?” Bochica’s voice was colder now, all fury iced over. “Then be what you truly are: a creature of the night.”
The light burned through her chest first, piercing her like a sunbeam turned spear. She doubled over, clutching her stomach, and felt the world tilt. Her bones ached as if they were being crushed and remade. Fingers bent inward, talons forcing their way through skin. Her arms, once so graceful, snapped and reformed into wings covered in sleek feathers, soft but unyielding.
Her laughter turned into something else—sharper, higher, a screech that echoed into the darkening sky. She stumbled, her body no longer her own, and caught sight of her reflection in a puddle of spilled chicha.
An owl stared back.
•••
The crowd had scattered—Bochica’s wrath wasn’t something you stuck around to admire. Huitaca flapped her new wings experimentally, feeling the power in them, the whisper of the wind as it bent to her will. Her anger burned brighter than the pain. He thought this was a punishment? Turning her into a creature that could fly, that could see in the dark?
She lifted off the ground with an ease that startled her. The world below shrank, the mountains she once climbed reduced to ripples in the earth. She soared higher, the moonlight catching her feathers. She had always belonged to the night, but now she was the night: silent, watchful, untouchable.
From his perch in the heavens, Bochica watched her, smug as ever. “You’ll haunt the darkness,” he said, his voice carried on the wind. “Alone.”
Huitaca tilted her head and let out a low, throaty hoot that sounded suspiciously like laughter. Alone? Hardly. The night was full of life, full of creatures who thrived beyond his reach. She would thrive, too.
Perched on a high branch, Huitaca surveyed the world. The moon painted the landscape in silver, shadows stretching long and deep. Her sharp eyes caught everything: the scurry of mice, the sway of trees, the stars that pulsed like tiny heartbeats.
Her people, the ones who had laughed with her, still lived under Bochica’s rules. But now, when they looked to the trees, they would see her watching, a guardian of the wild, untamed places.
Bochica could keep his sun. Huitaca had claimed the night.
And she would never stop laughing.
Behind-the-Scenes Commentary
One reason I love this challenge is that it naturally exposes me to stories, characters, etc., that I haven’t heard before. Today’s card is a great example. I hadn’t heard of Huitaca before pulling this card and as I did my research into her story, the more I found myself loving her. She is bawdy, raunchy, and loves to indulge in things that are deemed “wrong” by others. She doesn’t care.
If I’d have had more time (problem of my life), I would have maybe gone in a different and longer direction but such is life.
Source Material
The Dark Goddesses Oracle by Caitlin McCarthy