Duskfire Glacier embracing the starlit fate

The cold did not bother Týrr, and having lived in Duskfire Glacier for however long his time was when combined he had gotten used to it. If he would have never gotten caught in Ragnar's raid he would have never been injured, nor would he have known true cold. There was nothing mild about the winters of the Eldingar Valley, even Coatl's Rise which had resided south of the valley of lightning as both translations named it as. They were frigid, harsh and entirely unforgiving. Nature's way of eliminating the weak so that the strong could prosper; which explained why both cultures that fought for dominance of the entire valley were so strong. The Vikings and the Amazons, two cultures never meant to mix, like water and vinegar. Yet, the blended well enough within him, though Týrr was not so foolish as to believe that the change in his personality was not attribute to the gain of memories. Not all of them, of course, not nearly enough to really even claim he'd regained anything other than brief flashes of knowledge, names and the instance of Nahuatl language but what he had regained had ...changed him. He was not the same amnesiac boy, polite and mild when he'd thought he'd been Ragnar's blood soon, disillusioned by the lies as he'd been having nothing else to tell him any different. Until Manauia found him.

Diplomacy was still his strong suit, but he was more feral than he'd been. Savage and harsh. That had been proven by the fact that he could look Ragnar in the eye and take his life. Even if it had been in retribution for what Ragnar had stolen from him, things that the Amazon Rekkr often feared he would never get back. He would never remember the love of his mother, nor the love he had for her. She was a name to him, and he'd been angry that he couldn't even properly mourn the loss of his memories of her. He had meant much to the Amazon Queen, more than he should have as a male and that was monumental to him, to hold that knowledge and know that he did not feel anything for her simply because he could not remember her. He knew her only by what his guard women told him; and it was awful.

But things happened for reasons, and in this Týrr knew he had to trust. It was as he told Citali and Nochtli, there was no sense in dwelling upon the past. They could not change it. All they could do was focus on the present and face the future — something vast with endless possibilities for the four of them. He would be a King soon, something he would have never known would he have stayed in Coatl's Rise instead of insisting on going on the journey. They would have never allowed him to inherit Coatl's Rise. He would have stayed a Prince forever, always made to follow instead of lead. Despite that he did not fully agree with their traditions he wanted to incorporate aspects of the Amazon life into Frostfire Ridge. How, he had no idea, perhaps herald in the new era for the culture that Quetzalcoatl had intended him to in her home; but he could not do it as  Týrr. He had to do it as Tezcacoatl, and he didn't remember enough to feel that he deserved to bear that name.

Týrr's thoughts were broken by the arrival of company, unexpected as it was. Chocolate brown guard hairs bristled in warning, but when the Amazon Prince's crystalline blue eyes found his companion — very small for a male, he noted as he gave him a quick glance over — he realized the other male's attention was focused upon the Glacier, rising above them like a massive sword of ice, stretching to the heavens. “You should see it at dusk,”  Týrr mused fondly, having determined, for the moment, that the other male was of no immediate threat.