Long ago, in the heart of ancient Mexico, beneath the vast sky where the sun burned golden and fierce, there lived a small but remarkably clever lizard named Tepoztecatl. He was not the strongest nor the fastest among the desert’s creatures, but he was certainly the wisest. His quick mind and boundless resourcefulness had earned him a reputation across the sun-scorched land, where even the coyotes and eagles spoke of his cunning.

Yet, despite all his intelligence, Tepoztecatl faced a great challenge, one that even his wit could not easily solve. The desert heat was growing unbearable, more relentless than ever before. Each day, as he lay basking on his favourite rock, the scorching rays burned hotter and hotter, leaving him weak and weary. His scales, usually smooth and cool, felt like embers in a fire. The sand, once a comfortable bed, now seared his tiny feet with every step.

“This cannot go on,” Tepoztecatl muttered to himself, his tiny chest rising and falling with laboured breaths. “If I do nothing, I will be baked like a poor grasshopper on a stone!”

Determined to find a solution, Tepoztecatl set off across the desert, weaving between towering cacti, rocky cliffs, and dried riverbeds. He sought out the wisest creatures, hoping one of them might hold the secret to escaping the Sun’s unrelenting gaze.

He first came upon an ancient cactus, its arms raised toward the sky like a sage deep in thought. “Oh great cactus,” Tepoztecatl pleaded, “you have stood here for centuries, enduring the Sun’s fury. Tell me, how do you survive this heat?”

The cactus sighed, with a soft rustling in the wind. “Patience and endurance, little one,” it said. “I store the water from the rains and wait for the coolness of night.”
Tepoztecatl frowned. “I cannot store water within me. I need relief now, not when the night comes.” With a bow of thanks, he pressed on, his feet kicking up golden dust as he made his way through the dunes.

He next sought out Owl, the keeper of wisdom, who sat perched in the hollow of a great tree, blinking slowly in the midday glare.

“Wise Owl,” Tepoztecatl called, “you see all, you know all. Surely you have an answer to my plight!”

The Owl blinked twice before speaking. “The Sun is mighty, and none can change its course,” she hooted. “If you wish to escape its heat, you must learn to walk only in the shadows.”

Tepoztecatl sighed. “But what if the shadows are too far away? What if there is no place to hide?”

The Owl simply shrugged her feathered wings and returned to her slumber.

Frustrated but undaunted, Tepoztecatl continued his quest. At last, after many days of wandering, he came upon Coyote, the trickster of the desert, whose eyes gleamed with mischief and knowing.

“Oh clever Coyote,” Tepoztecatl called, “surely you have outwitted the Sun before! Tell me how I may do the same!”

Coyote laughed, a sound like whispering wind through dry grass. “Oh, little lizard, even I do not dare to trick the Sun. But if you wish to change your fate, you must seek out the Sun itself and demand an answer!”

Tepoztecatl’s heart pounded at the idea. Speak to the Sun? Face the great burning god of the sky? It seemed impossible, and yet, what other choice did he have? With newfound resolve, he clawed his way up the highest peak, the mountain where only the eagles dared to fly, and at its summit, he called out to the Sun.

The Sun, magnificent and golden, paused in its eternal journey across the sky to regard the tiny lizard standing below. “Who dares summon me?” it rumbled, its voice like the crackling of a great fire.

Tepoztecatl bowed deeply. “Oh mighty Sun, I am but a humble lizard. But your heat has become unbearable, and I beg you for relief!”

The Sun regarded him for a moment, then said, “I cannot dim my rays for one creature alone. My light gives life to the world.”

But Tepoztecatl was not so easily discouraged. He thought quickly, then smiled. “If I cannot ask you to dim your light, perhaps I can offer you something instead!”

“Oh?” The Sun’s curiosity was piqued. “And what could a tiny creature like you possibly offer me?”

Tepoztecatl grinned. “A dance,” he declared, “a dance so dazzling, so mesmerizing, that it will make you forget your own heat!”

The Sun, amused by such boldness, agreed. “Very well, little one. Show me this dance.”
And so, Tepoztecatl danced.

He twirled and leapt, his scales shimmering like molten gold. He moved with the grace of a river, the swiftness of the wind, and the joy of the rain. His tiny feet kicked up dust, which swirled around him like a whirlwind of fire and light.

The Sun watched in awe, captivated by the beauty and spirit of the performance. And as it watched, something miraculous happened. The heat lessened, a cool breeze stirred, and for the first time in many days, the desert exhaled in relief.

When Tepoztecatl finally came to a stop, panting but triumphant, the Sun laughed warmly. “You are clever indeed, little lizard. Your dance has brought me joy, and for that, I shall grant you a gift.”

The Sun’s light shimmered as it spoke. “From this day forward, whenever you seek refuge from my heat, simply rest beneath a rock, or in the shadow of a tree, and there you shall find coolness and comfort.”

With gratitude overflowing in his heart, Tepoztecatl bowed low. “Thank you, great Sun. I shall treasure this gift always.”

And so, from that day on, whenever the desert sun blazed fiercely, the lizards of the land knew exactly what to do. They found shade, and they rested, forever carrying the legacy of Tepoztecatl’s dance within them. And even now, when the desert wind blows and the shadows stretch long, some say that if you listen closely, you can still hear the whispers of the Sun, laughing in delight at the memory of the little lizard who danced among the flames.