A forgotten face returns. Her opinion means naught. Her arrival, means naught.
Yet she speaks even if her words are as empty, hollow, and bitter as her eyes.
![[Image: 5cc77e14f2113ffd2678cef06a06acd2.png]](https://i.gyazo.com/5cc77e14f2113ffd2678cef06a06acd2.png)
A democracy.
Long have I slumbered, long have I been detached from the workings of my tribal kin. It is of my own failing, that we're resorting to such a... Pathetic method of 'change'. We are Moxtli, the strength of ones own two legs, blood-soaked hands and blessed spirits guides us.
Democracy will only lead to a weak leader. A weak leader who cannot make the sacrifices required. Cannot kill, when they must. Cannot bleed for his or her tribeskin and the spirits before. A weak leader could parley with the likes of Achyonites. The youth has not witnessed what I have. The Lovers descent upon our homeland, the destruction of our Guardian at the hand of corpse-twisting monstrosities and rot-fucking fools. The siphoning wretching draining of the Musician's violin upon our spirits very essence.
Of course this is all of my own fault. For my own departure and inaction. If I had stayed, perhaps things would be far, far different. Or mayhap not. It matters little now. I return for one thing and one thing only;
Sibyl Cirque.
Your surname brings me naught but anger. I was the one that banished your mother from our lands for her traitorous actions years ago... If only I had been graced with the pleasure of bleeding her dry to slake the thirst of the spirits crying out for vengeance, or died trying to do as such.
I seek to see those eyes, to see if any signs of that woman remains embedded into your very spirit. I seek to hear your words, and taste your strength- besting a Metzin is no easy task. I can speak from experience.
Humor an aging, ex warchief. Though I am but stranger with no face nor voice which lays weight upon your shoulders, I am still Moxtli.
Let me hear your words and feel your strength. Ektu is not 'running' for Voice. Therefore, with one Candidate, a Metzin whose name I see no reason to question, and yourself... Well... Prove to me that this... This
Democracy can make powerful leaders. Through words and blood.
Or not. Regardless, I shall be in Moxtli, waiting.