The Slidecrown Sundering
Cross the Water
Prelude to Alliance
(Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3)
Eloxochitl stood by the lakeside, with her subordinate huntmaster and two huntbands arrayed at her back, in as close to formation as the tribal troops ever got. Together, they stared up at the celestial figure descending towards them. It was impossible not to be awed by the being they beheld; the four-winged angel — resplendent in petals of every hue in the rainbow — was an undeniable embodiment of Alarielle’s will.
Yet Eloxochitl was far more familiar with this figure than were her hunter-warriors, giving her an edge over them; she could at least manage to control her expression, whilst many of her fellows were left slack-jawed by the divine spectacle. For this virtuous creature was the Archangel Xochiatlapal, the bride of Matlalhuitl.
“We are graced by your presence, honoured mother.” she said, bowing her head in reverence. When she raised it again, she found Xochiatlapal regarding her with a soft smile. Despite being middle-aged now, the first and greatest of Yektiktlan’s angels was still stunningly beautiful by her people’s standards; taller and more muscular than any other in the tribes, with a bronzed complexion and eyes which glimmered like amber.
“I bear news, daughter.” Xochiatlapal said serenely, “One of my choirs have encountered envoys of another force hailing from far-off lands, who like us, have come to these Slidecrown Isles to save them from the looming threat posed by the Lord of Pestilences. It is my wish that you negotiate with them on behalf of our peoples.”
Eloxochitl blanched, “Me? Mother, I am a warleader, not a diplomat. I may be chieftess of Tlakuaco, but I cannot speak for my brother’s people, nor for those who make their homes outside the twin cities. Such weighty matters should be handled by father, or by you.”
The archangel chuckled melodiously, and Eloxochitl’s shoulders slumped, as she realised that her mother’s mind was already made up. She wasn’t going to get out of this.
“Your father & I have been talking, and have decided that you & your brother must become familiar with making important decisions. The two of us will not be around to watch over you forever, after all.” Xochiatlapal instructed, then she added, in a tone so tranquil that it almost managed not to sound patronising, “I have every confidence in your abilities, my daughter, but if you wish, I shall remain by your side for moral support. Would you like that?”
The chieftess of Tlakuaco felt her cheeks colour slightly at being spoken to like a child before her hand-picked huntband. She felt like snapping at Xochiatlapal, but one simply did not speak discourteously to an angel, even if said angel was also a blood relative. Also, the truth was that she actually would be comforted by having her mother present to watch over the proceedings and keep her from screwing things up too badly. Not that she could possibly admit to that.
So instead, with all the dignity she could muster, Eloxochitl replied, “Thank you for your kind offer, honoured mother, but I do not require supervision. If it is my task to speak to these envoys, then I shall do so to the best of my ability. If we all begin killing one another, you will know that I have failed.”
The most powerful woman in all Yektiktlan stifled another laugh, then reached over and tousled Eloxochitl’s meticulously-styled hair, saying, “You will do just fine, daughter.”
Before she could react, with a single beat of those four, glorious wings, her mother was airborne once again. Eloxochitl simply stood stock still for several seconds. Then she took a deep breath, and sighed. She turned to face her warriors, and couldn’t help but notice the huntmaster’s wince as he got a better look at the damage done to her hair.
Eloxochitl did not consider herself particularly shallow or vain, and she certainly was not the sort of person to become flustered over her hair, despite the effort she put into its maintenance. She would not be a particularly good hunter or warrior if she got worked up over that sort of thing, after all. That said, it was hard not to feel irritated that a mere moment after exhorting her to meet with foreign dignitaries, her mother would purposefully dishevel her appearance.
Of all times, now was one when she actually did need to look her best. Meeting the huntmaster’s gaze, she gestured vaguely towards her hair and asked plaintively, “Can you fix this?”
The young man was one of her closest friends, someone she had known since childhood, and not half bad at hairdressing, thankfully. The huntmaster glanced up at the sky momentarily, then once assured that her mother wasn’t likely to return any second now, he nodded to Eloxochitl and gestured at the ground before him, saying, “Sit. I’ll see what I can do.”
Giving her friend a grateful smile, the chieftess hurried to comply.
