dreamers of the day are dangerous men

He had not changed much since his first weeks of life; he was still a mewling little boy, as dark as dung and as strong-willed as his own mother. The boy pulled to a halt as soon as she cut through his path, and then lanced at her with his words - not attacking, as perhaps he ought to. As a King might attack a stranger upon his lands. He afforded her some doubt, then. It was not something Xiuhcoatl would have done. She scoffed at his question - "Aside from being born, you mean." she spat right back at him - and then turned to face him head-to-head. Her body squared to his own, and the woman sized him up with a fleeting once-over.

"Tezcacoatl, heir to Coatl's Rise, son to Quetzalcoatl - my dear sister." The spiel was long and arduous for her tongue, but she named him all the same. There was even a slight air of awe in her tone, but that was swiftly withdrawn. "You are to accompany me back to your rightful place." There was no room for negotiation (nor introductions, she realized a moment later). He would hear her and obey. If not, then she would grant herself the pleasant task of dragging him home herself. As an afterthought she appended the statement. "If you do not go willingly, I have permission from the Queen to take you by force."