[ Silco watches, as he moves to the stall, watches the man's eyes widen in recognition, the sheer emotion on his face — reverence and fear all in one — makes a shiver go down Silco's spine. He had seen that look many times now, often when faced with people like Tezca, or Set, but even others when they were in the last world. When faced with the truly powerful, there was no mistaking that look.

Silco had enjoyed it. When they looked at him like that. He missed it, even if he wouldn't voice it.

His fingers wrapped around the flowers, almost instinctive, before he lowered them to his side. ]

What could they do but fight?

[ He asks, but he understands. How could he not? ]

My revolution already was. [ He says, as they continue. ] When I was just a boy, I learned well enough that power is all that topsiders — or your people across the sea — will listen to. Anything short of it, compassion or compliance do nothing more than stay their hand while they still sneak cruelty upon cruelty on us. It is better to die fighting, than it is to become cowed.

[ He reached up, and tapped his fingers to the scar over his eye. ]

I received this from an Enforcer, when we tried to gain our independence when I was a boy. I survived only because my compatriots lost their nerve for the fight. They backed off.

[ His lips twitch, as he looks at those individuals walking past. Knowing that they would die tomorrow doesn't make him feel pity, it makes him angry. He hoped they took their equal share, and then some, but he knows. He knows that slaughters like this go only one way. ]

I wouldn't, and thus, they attempted to cull me.

[ He looked at Tezca, for only a moment. ] I hope they never lose their will to fight, and betray their cohort.