Olrox helps Richter out of bed. His joints feel stiff from being held down for three days. He thinks back to Huitzilopochtli helping him up like this. Then Richter blinks, shaking his head a little. His memories are still scrambling in his mind. He'll definitely have to tell Olrox about this later.
The Aztec opens the door and guides Richter into the main room of the cottage. None of them look hostile towards Olrox. How much did the Aztec have to explain to them all? How long did they talk during the three days all of them were awake? His yellow eyes glance at Mizrak.
The knight looks tired. They all look tired. He looks at each of them.
"I'm..." It feels strange to speak. His throat is still dry.
"I didn't mean to harm any of you. I don't remember what happened right now, but Olrox told me. Mizrak, I'm sorry."
Mizrak looks at Richter with sympathy.
"We know that wasn't you," he whispers.
"I should have saved you," Edouard cuts in, looking close to tears.
"Edouard," Annette sighs, looking just as sad.
"You've saved me a million times before, and the one time I could have helped you back..." he trails off, voice cracking.
"You wouldn't have been able to handle Drolta, let alone Bàthory," Richter murmurs.
"But God gave you a second chance," Mizrak reasons.
"Not the Christian one," Belmont sighs, arms wrapped around himself.
"You will be alright, Richter," Tera promises him, determination in her eyes. "You've always been stronger than you think."
He manages a small, shaky smile at this.
"Besides, it's quite an upgrade you have now," Maria says confidently. He can tell she's trying to make him feel better, but they can only do so much. None of them understand what he's going through, except for Olrox.
"Thank you all for trying to help, really. I just still need time to process this," he murmurs, eyes looking more at the floor than them.
"I need fresh air," he reasons, walking to the front door. He hears Olrox follow him. Part of Richter wants to tell Olrox to stay inside, that he needs a moment alone, but he doesn't really want to be alone. So he lets the Aztec follow him outside.
They both look up at the darkened sky, the eclipse still ominous in the distance.
His hearing is a lot sharper now, he can hear just about every little insect crawling in the underbrush. Trying not to let the sudden shift in noise drive him insane, Richter speaks in Spanish, surprising Olrox. Belmont definitely studied that English to Spanish book a lot. Tēzcatlipōca also helped him during his three day rest in his mind.
None of the others know Spanish, so Richter and Olrox can speak freely.
"Lo siento, mi amor. No quise estresarse tanto," Richter murmurs.
(I'm sorry, my love. I didn't mean to put so much stress on you.)
Olrox stares at him, surprised.
"¿Cuándo aprendió a hablar español?" Olrox asks, his Spanish not having an accent like Richter's.
(When did you learn how to speak Spanish?)
"Había libros en la bodega Belmont. Busqué uno en inglés a náhuatl, pero no encontré ninguno," Belmont explains.
(There were books in the Belmont Hold. I looked for one in English to Nahuatl, but found none.)
"Tēzcatlipōca también me ayudó," Belmont smiles a little.
(Tēzcatlipōca also helped me.)
Olrox smiles back, looking happy despite how tired he appears. Richter tries to look happy, but the Aztec can tell it's a bit forced.
"Te necesito, Olrox. Nadie más en esa cabaña entiende lo que estoy pasando excepto tú," Richter whispers.
(I need you, Olrox. Nobody else in that cottage understands what I'm going through but you.)
"Cariño..." Olrox murmurs sadly.
(Darling...)
"Ya lo has dicho antes. Tú y yo, encontraremos la forma de derrotar a Erzsebet," Richter says, determined.
(You said it before. You and I, we figure out how to defeat Erzsebet.)
Olrox nods slowly.
"I'll need to help train you," the Aztec says in English.
"Train me?" Richter blinks.
"Your powers are back," Olrox clarifies, gently taking Richter's hands in his own, careful to avoid his claws. "I know what it feels like for you right now, the power, the energy. I'm here to guide you every step of the way."
Belmont nods.
Richter suddenly turns his head, hearing the underbrush rustling even before Olrox.
He knows how exhausted his family and friends are. None of them are in a good condition to fight properly.
"Get in the cottage, Olrox," he urges.
"Like I'd leave you to fend for yourself again," Olrox states firmly, his fingers entwining with Richter's for a moment. He squeezes his hand and then releases it.
"Night creatures. Five of them, I think. Nothing tried to attack the cottage while I slept?" Belmont asks, scanning the bushes, eyes glowing golden.
"No, but we kept seeing Bàthory's scouts in the sky. She must have gone back to the church and found you gone, knowing you survived," he explains.
Richter scoffs, blowing smoke out from his mouth.
"And the night creature machine?"
Olrox shakes his head.
"We never got down there. The moment the rest of them saw you wounded and lashing out, we ran back here."
Richter grits his teeth, automatically reaching for the Vampire Killer or Morning Star. He just now realizes he's still shirtless and doesn't have any weapons on him.
Going back into the cottage and finding his weapons would take too long.
Like a second consciousness, Tēzcatlipōca chimes in: "Call to me."
Richter's eyes widen, seeing that Olrox didn't hear the voice. He holds his hands out, palms facing forward.
"Tēzcatlipōca, Lord of the North, Aztec God of Darkness, Night Wind, I seek your aid," he recites the incantation like he's known it his whole life.
Olrox's eyes widen. He hasn't heard anyone say that incantation since the Aztec Empire fell. Black particles form around Richter's hands, looking like floating black sand. The particles form the vague shape of two swords that solidify in his hands. He looks down at them in amazement, the blades curved outward and dangerously sharp.
"Obsidian blades," Richter murmurs, twirling them in his hands so they whistle, slicing through the air. "How fitting."
"You've always been good with a sword," Olrox manages to joke lightly, before he and Richter split off in the yard as the night creatures burst out of the woods.
"Five night creatures," Olrox mutters, taking out his obsidian knife. "You guessed correctly."
Richter smiles, seeing three harpy looking ones and two of the insect looking creatures. One of the harpies charges at him and he grunts, dodging much faster than he would have as a human. Belmont slashes the harpy and it screams in pain. The obsidian swords are very sharp. He's surprised how much energy he has now.
They make quick work of the night creatures. Even so, Olrox still looks tired. Belmont supposes not sleeping for three days will affect anyone badly, even vampires. The obsidian swords turn back into black particles that slip through Richter's fingers like sand.
He looks down at the brutalized corpses of the night creatures and he licks his lips unconsciously. He thinks back to the heart he (saw? felt?) Tēzcatlipōca eating. He turns to see Olrox checking on everyone else in the cottage. Richter turns back and walks over to the closest corpse of the harpy.
He slashes open the chest cavity, easily snapping the ribs apart and ripping the heart out. Without really thinking, he bites into it, hands smeared with blood and bits of feathers. The more primal side of Tēzcatlipōca is taking over. Add that and now needing blood since Olrox turned him, Richter acts more like a wild animal now.
"RICHTER!"
Belmont jumps at Maria's horrified scream. He whirls around to see all of them outside now. They look terrified of what Richter is doing. He still holds the bloody, half-eaten heart in his clawed hands. Annette looks like she's about to vomit. Edouard looks like he wants to faint. Maria clings to her mother while Tera covers her mouth in shock. Mizrak looks horrified, muttering a prayer while signing the cross.
Olrox doesn't look shocked or horrified. He just looks sad. It's almost like he expected this to happen.
"Richter," he says calmly, like he's talking to a child who doesn't want to share. "Drop the heart."
Belmont shakes his head, claws digging into the muscle of the organ, dripping more blood on the grass.
"Richter," Olrox tries again, slowly taking a few steps forward. Belmont growls low in his throat as a warning.
"I know you're hungry, Richter. You need to eat. Let me give you my blood, you've had it before."
The Aztec tries reaching out. Richter snarls, bloody fangs bared as his pupils narrow into slits.
With speed he still isn't used to, Richter snaps at Olrox in a warning and bolts off into the woods, wanting to eat his meal in peace. He hears Olrox call out to him, but not the others. No, the others are terrified of him now. He isn't the same person who ran out of the dungeons so long ago.
Gripping the heart between his teeth, he keeps running, almost on all fours before his body turns into black smoke and reforms back into a giant jaguar. Judging by the sound of hissing and wingbeats in the air, Olrox is chasing after him. He growls low in his throat, his memories so scrambled with the Aztec Gods' he starts to view Olrox as Quetzalcoatl now.
They may not be in Mexico yet, but the Tēzcatlipōca/Quetzalcoatl rivalry is starting all over again.