(I hope my drawing shows up when I upload this chapter. I've been having a blast designing what Richter looks like as an avatar for Tēzcatlipōca.)
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He wakes up to the spicy/sweet smell of cacao powder and roasting peppers. The scent nearly makes him sneeze but he breathes it in with a sense of nostalgia. He's laying down on the forest floor, hearing people laughing and singing somewhere close by.
He squints up at the sunlight peeking through the trees in confusion. Shouldn't he be in France...?
Blinking, he sits up, looking down at his hands and feet. His skin is completely ink black, his fingers are clawed, the claws curved slightly inwards. He's bewildered to find his fingernails are gone, the ends of his fingers naturally razor sharp.
His right foot is replaced with an obsidian mirror, the bone of his leg somewhat exposed, but it doesn't hurt. It hasn't hurt for years now. Where is he?
"Tēzcatlipōca! Tez!" He jolts a little when someone calls his name. He looks up to see Huitzilopochtli walk through the vegetation. The younger Aztec God has blue skin, his face having the same stripe pattern, but his are blue instead of black.
His youngest brother smiles when he sees him.
"Were you sleeping on the ground again?" The Aztec God of War teases, arms crossed over his chest.
"Sorry," Richter/Tēzcatlipōca rasps, touching his temple as smoke vents from his nose.
"Are you all right?" His youngest sibling asks, head tilted to the side, a worried look in his pale eyes. The hummingbird headdress rattles a little when he tilts his head, the long green and white feathers swaying in the breeze.
"It just felt like I woke up from a really long dream," he murmurs, the golden and turquoise bracelets on his wrists jingling as he moves.
"You've only been asleep for a few hours," Huitzilopochtli murmurs, holding a yellow hand out to help the elder brother up from the ground. "We should probably get you something to eat. Come on, Quetzalcoatl saved you a heart from the last sacrifice."
Richter/Tēzcatlipōca stands with the help of his brother and stumbles a little. He growls in frustration, sounding like a jaguar when he's mad. Huitzilopochtli laughs softly, letting the Aztec God of Darkness lean against him for support.
"You're definitely hungry. You are the only one of us that gets moody when hungry," he jokes.
Richter/Tēzcatlipōca scoffs, smoke blowing from his mouth in a huff.
They exit the forest and go into the city. The Aztec God of War helps him each step of the way. The Great Pyramid of Tenochtitlan looms over the trees, the stairs leading down still soaked with blood. The scent of blood makes Richter, the human part of him at least, want to gag. But another part of him, something more primal, almost licks his lips at the scent.
"Olrox?" He whispers, blinking in alarm when he sees him walking down the bloody steps like he's done this a thousand times before. Except Olrox isn't wearing his usual purple overcoat. No, he's shirtless, his darker skin covered in green scales along his chest, shoulders, and eyes. His hair is still dark and long, a few red and purple feathers woven into the braids.
He wears a bright skirt, the pattern elaborate looking. Olrox, no, Olrox/Quetzalcoatl smiles when he sees his brothers. He carries a human heart in his hands, the organ still dripping blood.
"Let me guess, Tēzcatlipōca fell asleep in the forest again?" Olrox/Quetzalcoatl muses, his voice sounding more feminine than Richter/Tēzcatlipōca remembers.
Huitzilopochtli nods and laughs, letting the Aztec God of Darkness go.
"Here," Olrox/Quetzalcoatl hands him the dripping heart. "You must be starving," he almost teases.
Richter/Tēzcatlipōca snorts smoke out like a pissed off bull and snatches the heart out of his younger brother's hand.
He bites into the heart with his sharpened jaguar teeth. Blood gushes in his mouth like he bit into an overripe tomato, some of it staining his lips and chin. The human side of himself expects the familiar salty, metallic taste of blood. But no, this tastes richer, sweeter. The muscle of the heart is somewhat stringy, but he doesn't mind. He devours it in three bites and licks his fingers clean.
Olrox/Quetzalcoatl smiles, the love and affection clear in his eyes for his older brother. It almost looks mocking to Richter/Tēzcatlipōca. He growls low in his throat, baring his bloody fangs. He doesn't like being mocked. Huitzilopochtli nudges his elder brother, subtly calming him down.
"Be calm, brother," the Serpent God murmurs, always the patient one, even now.
Despite everything, Richter/Tēzcatlipōca still doesn't forgive Olrox/Quetzalcoatl for hitting him out of the sky during the first sun cycle. He turns and leaves his younger brothers, blowing out smoke in frustration.
****
Richter is laying on something soft, something familiar. His eyelids feel heavy.
He can still taste the blood and viscera from the heart in his...dream? Memory of the past? He doesn't know. But he knows it tasted good. Very good.
He tries to shift on whatever he lays on, but finds moving difficult. Opening his eyes, Belmont sees he is in his room, in Tera's cottage. It's dark, the ominous light from the eclipse only making the shadows longer.
Richter looks down at his body and realizes he's held down in bed by chains.
The door to his room is closed, he can see light slipping in from under the doorway. His bloody and torn clothing has been removed, he's left in nothing but underwear and shorts. The slash across his stomach where Bàthory clawed him has healed, but will forever leave scars. His flesh along the scarring is still pink, but his skin—his whole body—is jet black.
Looks like Tēzcatlipōca kept his promise. He feels around his mouth with his tongue, feeling jaguar teeth poking his tongue. All four of his canine teeth are longer and sharpened now. He looks down at his hands. Clawed and sharp, just like in his dream. If he's been sleeping for God knows how long, why is he chained down?
He clasps his teeth down on the chain closest to his mouth and pulls. This does nothing but make his neck sore. Then he realizes that nothing in his body hurts anymore. Bewildered and with the chain still between his teeth, Richter moves his limbs one by one. He can move his arms and legs. No more pain.
Huffing out smoke, he pulls the chain again, growling deep in his chest. He doesn't realize there are muffled voices talking at the other side of the door until they suddenly go quiet.
Richter looks over when Olrox enters his room. He sees a brief flash of the others: Tera, Annette, Maria, Edouard, even Mizrak, all looking up at him before the door closes again.
Olrox looks a little wary but relieved to see Richter is okay. Well, if having odd dreams/visions of seeing the past in your sleep is considered okay.
"Oh, my love," Olrox murmurs, hand on Richter's cheek as his forehead touches Belmont's. At his familiar touch, Richter calms down.
He's bewildered to hear a soft purring sound, only to realize it's coming from his own chest. He's making the purring sound. Olrox laughs softly and kisses his forehead. Tears fall from Olrox's eyes, but he looks relieved. No, better than relieved, he looks elated.
"What happened?" Richter coughs a little at the dryness in his throat, alarmed when black smoke comes up with his cough. "Why am I chained down?"
"Well, the moment the others arrived in the church," Olrox flicks his eyes to the closed door for emphasis, "you were already turning. Your skin was already starting to blacken. I.." he pauses, looking like he's about to cry again. The Aztec lets out a shuddered breath and caresses Richter's hair.
"They thought I did that to you. I only turned you to save your life, nothing more. You were the one that had to accept Tēzcatlipōca. As for why you're chained down..." He looks pained even having to explain this.
"You grew wild, Richter. Snarling and lashing at us like a cornered animal. I saw your eyes change. You nearly blinded Mizrak."
Richter looks alarmed.
"I understand that you wouldn't remember this at all. The first days of accepting an Aztec God using your body as a vessel are always a blur. Believe me, I know this. You exhausted yourself. Between having just transformed and your injuries healing very fast, you passed out. I carried you back here. None of us have slept in the three days you've been asleep," he explains.
Olrox loosens the chains so Richter can at least sit up in bed. He gives Richter the obsidian mirror that was on the bedside table. It doesn't feel cold or heavy to Richter anymore. It hums with life, feeling warm between Belmont's blackened fingers. Like before, he looks into it. He nearly drops the mirror when he sees his reflection.
The sclera—the white part of his eyes—is now black. His irises aren't blue anymore, they're yellow, a vibrant, glowing yellow, his pupils slit like a jaguar's. His ears are pointed now. Like Tēzcatlipōca, he has the same three black stripes across his face. The only parts on his whole body that aren't black are the two stripes uncovered on his face. His hair is still brown, but the tips are a smokey gray.
He trembles, feeling power and anger building up in his body. Purple electricity crackles between his fingers as he shakes. Olrox notices instantly and takes the mirror away. He holds Richter's hands, even as the electricity hurts the Aztec a little.
"Richter, Richter, look at me. Look at me, my love. Focus on me, look into my eyes," he murmurs. Richter does so, more smoke coming from his nose in his stress.
"We'll get through this," he promises. "You and me. Tell me about if you saw anything strange in your dreams later on, okay?"
Belmont nods, closing his yellow eyes, taking this all in.