Little Boy Belmont (Richter x Olrox)

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Toxcatl

Belmont staggers a little when he gets on the dock. Olrox quickly steadies him with a small smile. Richter smiles back, trying to get used to walking on solid ground after a few weeks out on sea.
He looks out into the vast jungle with wide eyes, the vegetation bright and smelling somewhat damp. He almost gets overwhelmed at the scents: musky dirt, sweet fruits he can't recognize, the sharp scent of woodsmoke and meat roasting.

"Keep your head lowered, I want to surprise the others," Olrox says with a grin. Richter nods, curious, but does as he's told. He keeps his head down, his face blocked by the shadows of the hood and hands behind his back, hiding his claws.

He hears murmurs in Nahuatl from the people as they walk deeper in the jungle. Despite this, Richter doesn't dare look up. He looks down at his feet as he walks, feeling the dirt between his toes. More curious voices, more exotic smells.

Belmont feels Olrox's hand on his shoulder, making him stop.
"Look up when I tell you to," the Aztec murmurs. Richter nods. He hears Olrox speak Nahuatl to someone, or a group of someones, judging by the multiple voices.

Richter can't understand the language, but he hears gasps and more murmurs all around him.
He feels Olrox squeeze his shoulder, his signal to lift his head up. Belmont does so and almost staggers back in alarm.
It seems like the whole population of Teotihuacan came the moment word spread that Olrox had returned.

He sees the similarities between Olrox and the others immediately: the darker skin, long black hair on the men and women, the dark brown eyes.
Belmont exhales smoke from his nose and the people look amazed.
He sees a boy, probably no older than five, with the same black hair but with green eyes stare up at him in awe.

Like the boy is looking at a God. Richter sees the familiar wonder in the boy's eyes like a child looking up to their parents and his heart twists with emotion.
He kneels to the boy's height, lowering the hood in the process.
"Hello," he says nervously, assuming none of them know what he's saying at all.

They look at him without fear, not like the people in France. The boy smiles.
"Titlacauan," the boy says happily.
"I'm sorry?" Richter blinks.
Olrox laughs softly.
"It means We Are His Slaves," Olrox clarifies.

Richter looks bewildered.
"Is—is that a good thing?" he asks.
Olrox nods. "It's a very good thing. It's one of the many names they will call you."
Belmont watches as the boy gets on his knees, head lowered and hands raised, palms facing the sky. The other Aztecs repeat the same motion, bowing with respect.

"What the Hell," Richter blinks, standing back to his full height. "That's the same motion you made—" he stammers.
"When I showed respect to you as a jaguar, yes," Olrox nods with tears in his eyes.

He looks back at the people, his people, he realizes. He is Tēzcatlipōca to them.
****
The rest of the day is a blur of celebration: feasts, beans, whole cooked turkeys, chili sauce, tamales, singing, dancing, Olrox's laughter, and being called so many different titles in Nahuatl it makes Richter's head hurt.

Richter eventually manages to sneak away from the people, genuinely needing a break. He got so used to the solitude of being with Olrox that this whole festival feels like it's giving him whiplash. The sun had set hours ago and the people are still partying in the center of the city. They ironically had arrived on the first day of Toxcatl, the celebration for Tēzcatlipōca, which always happens in the month of May. So the Aztecs definitely took this as a sign from the Gods.

Belmont can still smell the wood fires and sweet chillies roasting even on the outskirts of the city. He leans against one of the massive stone carvings of Quetzalcoatl in his feathered serpent form and sighs, looking up at the millions of stars in the sky. They shine so clearly in the jungle, away from the harsh lights of the city.

"You should be out enjoying the festivities," the Jaguar God says, melting out from the shadows of the vast jungle behind him.
Richter turns to look at the God, taking in every little detail with his golden eyes. He never realized how good his night vision is now that he's away from the fires.

He can see well into the distance without needing any source of light.
"I needed a break," he says, looking up into Tēzcatlipōca's pale eyes. The God of Darkness grins, head tilted to the side, the shells hanging from his headdress clanking together.
"Did you need a break? Or did you want to see me?" the God asks, already knowing the answer. There is no hiding anything from the God, Richter had realized that a while ago.

Ometeotl's eldest son had seen into his heart and mind the moment he agreed to be his vessel, his avatar. He knows more about Richter than Richter knows about himself.
"I wanted to see you," he admits. "You're the only one who understands me besides Olrox. Especially now. The festivities are beautiful, but overwhelming. And the various titles, Christ, all the titles..."
Tēzcatlipōca laughs, smoke flowing from his nostrils.

"What have they mainly called you, Ixiptla?" the God of Darkness all but purrs, honestly enjoying Richter getting treated with respect.
"Nacoc Yaotl," he repeats the name in shaky Nahuatl.
The Jaguar God smirks.
"Enemy of Both Sides," he muses, stepping closer to Richter.

"Why did you choose me? Why did you kiss me as I lay dying?" Belmont all but blurts out, brows knit together. Even now, he wonders why. Richter doesn't even have a drop of Aztec blood in him. He is little more than a foreigner permanently looking like the God. He feels the God gently grab his chin, tilting his head upwards to face him. Golden eyes meet pale ones.
Despite Tēzcatlipōca's usual arrogant nature, Richter sees his eyes soften.

His clawed hand moves so the God caresses his cheek. He swears he can hear Tēzcatlipōca purring a little.
"Why?" the God echoes, then kisses him fully on the lips. Richter's eyes widen in surprise, heart hammering in his chest.
Tēzcatlipōca soon pulls away, the shells rattling softly being the only sound besides Richter's breathing.
"Because I saw into your mind and heart. Your conflict between good and evil mirrors mine. Your connection with Olrox, your love for him and your hatred because he killed your mother. That conflict will linger in your heart for years."

Richter feels Tēzcatlipōca remove the purple and red feathers from his pocket. Gently, he feels the God pinch his earlobes between his claws, effectively piercing his ears and letting the feathers dangle from small golden clasps. The Jaguar God must have had the claps somewhere on his person.

"There," he grins, tilting Richter's head from side to side. Purple on the right ear, red on the left. Belmont doesn't know how to respond.
"Beautiful. You'll learn, Ixiptla. Now, go back to the party, I'm sure Olrox misses you." He kisses Belmont's forehead and lets him go.

Richter blinks a few times, claws lightly touching his now pierced ears. He's never been called beautiful before, not even by Olrox. Seems like Tēzcatlipōca could sense his doubts about belonging here and his permanent appearance. Belmont can taste the God on his tongue from the kiss, a smokey, earthy taste. He focuses his gaze back to thank the Jaguar God, only to pause.
Tēzcatlipōca is gone, like he was never there at all.