Quetzalcoatl was a primary God, just as powerful in his own right as Odin or Zeus. Just by informing him of future events and the consequences of the evolution of gunpowder, and how man would fight wars, he was able to pierce the veil of time and look to the future.

His prodigious intellect and foresight expanded to see the events that I spoke of. I watched as his eyes expanded and changed until they grew large enough that I could see what he saw, as they became pools of reflected images. His pupils swirled with scenes of the possible future, scenes of a future I warned him of as he looked forward into time.

I saw the scenes of destruction that his people would contend against. I watched the visions that flickered of conquistadors slaughtering the young, old, women, and babies without discrimination, without remorse.

I watched as his eyes reflected the virulent diseases that the white man brought. Quetzalcoatl wept as smallpox and measles wiped out entire populations. I watched silently as the entire civilizations of the Aztecs, Mayan, and People on this side of the Atlantic were decimated until they all but vanished.

And I watched as those Gods of the Aztecs, Mayan, and People were diminished, as they lost power and influence as their worshipers died. I could see his thoughts coalescing into understanding when I shared the secret of vaccination and how simple it would have been to save so many.

I watched as the facade of indifference that Quetzalcoatl had greeted my words when I’d told him what the future held faded, and genuine anger blossomed. I watched as the anger turned to fury as a civilization that had spanned thousands of years was decimated almost overnight.

“How do we begin?” He finally responded, his glimpse into the future complete.

His anger was contained, barely, his words heavy with grief. His Divine radiance was oppressive. The anger and grief were so pronounced that his people fainted, some bleeding from their ears and eyes, unable to withstand the true might of a grieving God.

“I need an area to create a [Fairy Ring]. Once established, you will need to give me permission to form a bridge, a portal between continents. The [Fairy Ring] will create a link with a tiny spark of your Divine realm, this temple, and another [Ring] on the other continent.

“I will leave the connection open and tied to your will. You will be powering the portal with that spark of Divine energies the connection to your realm will offer. That will leave you in complete control.

“You can decide to cut off the flow of energy, and the portal will close. You can choose to destroy the [Fairy Ring], closing it for good. If you do, it will collapse and can never be opened again.

“The portal will be keyed to the Aztec Pantheon of Gods. You will determine who can use it, you can monitor who does use it, and you can ward it from infiltration from both sides.”

“And if an enemy God attempts to subvert the opening?” He asked.

“That will be up to you to decide. Trap them in the void between portals, set traps that can even damage a God, or set a guardian as the Asgardians have done to protect the Bifrost Bridge,” I suggested.

“The making of the portal is mine, but the control and health of both the portal and the [Fairy Rings] that serve as anchors are yours to guard and monitor.”

Quetzalcoatl didn’t respond in any way that signaled agreement; he simply acted. One of the plateaus of the pyramid was reshaped, giving life to solid stone, the stone becoming loam.

I don’t think he meant for me to use the entire terrace as a [Fairy Ring], but as I watched the Divine energies at play. As I saw how a God could shape and bend reality to his will, I realized that I had an opportunity here.

I’d already planted [Fairy Rings] on Asgard. Over time those rings would expand, giving the Tuatha de Danann a purchase into that realm, a place to stage an invasion if they ever felt the need. I realized as I watched the next lowest terrace below the sacrificial altar form that I could do something similar here.

Before Quetzalcoatl could respond, barely a second in time after he had transformed the terrace, I acted. My hands withdrew the seeds for [Fire Tulips], [Ice Chrysanthemums], [Shadow Orchids], and [Lifelight Hydrangea]. With the precision that my agility and proprioception allowed, I had the seeds planted, interspersed in the correct order to bring to life another Teigh Garden.

“I need a donation of blood,” I said before I could work on the next part. “Yours would be best, but your High Priest’s will suffice if you have any reservations.”

Quetzalcoatl exuded a drop of golden blood, imbued with his Essence and his divinity. He might not trust me and my working, but he trusted the keeping of the [Fairy Ring] to someone else even less.

I mixed a drop of my blood with the blood I had sacrificed from the Winter Reindeer and Fire Salamander with the drop he donated and infused the new garden. As the [Ritual] progressed, I invested [Fairy], [The Wild Magic], and my [Essence] along with the divine signatures of Asgard and Aztec’s highest plane into the pool of energy that would stabilize and form the connection betwixt and between.

The Omeyocan realm, the place of duality, was the highest of the Aztecan thirteen heavens. It was where Quetzalcoatl and his Pantheon resided and where I anchored the connection that would power the [Fairy Ring] in the future.

I worked quickly, almost destabilizing the magic at one point. The reason for my haste was this opportunity. I tied the [Fairy Ring] into the altar and the plane of Omeyocan with my connection to the Tuatha de Danann. Every Ritual done here, every time a sacrifice was made, Tuatha de Danann would gain an incremental part of that sacrifice. Eventually, enough life energies would be siphoned to gain a foothold in the Aztecan Heavens.

As the [Ritual] concluded, I felt my body converting the slightest trace of Aztecan Divine energies, a tendril of energy that connected me with the newly established [Fairy Ring]. I used that connection to set guardians. I would not ask the demi-fey to risk their lives or the wrath of the Aztecan people, so I examined my memory for a suitable guardian.

I wanted something similar to Quetzalcoatl. A winged guardian, a serpent that would resonate with the people. I decided on Fire Lizards. They could fly, teleport, and breathe fire. They were creatures crafted from the dreams of an author, dreams made manifest and powered by my [Domain].

I created a mold out of the image I had crafted, a 3-D model that would allow me to warp reality. I channeled my control over [Illusion and Glamour], filling the empty molds with the Essence of life. That life was shaped to hold the characteristics I had decided on. I gave life to these bejeweled fire lizards, setting a Golden Queen to rule the creatures.

I might have been able to create this new lifeform without the aid of energy from Omeyocan, but Quetzalcoatl would have never trusted it. These were still my creations. They would still serve me. Nothing or no one could enjoin them to betray me. But they were influenced and built to protect the [Fairy Ring] that I had created and to resonate with Aztecan Divinity.

Quetzalcoatl would still have reservations. But because the energy from these sparks of dreams made real were built on the precepts of Omeyocan, he would accept their intrusion. Every flicker of his tongue could taste the energies that went into their shaping. Every expansion of his perception, every testing of their origin, would return the same information.

These creatures were formed with those energies that he found familiar and comforting.

As I released my working, giving life to the models of [Illusion] I had crafted, the bejeweled creatures flocked to the [Fairy Ring]. All except the small gold Queen that flew to Quetzalcoatl, hovering in place as she peered into the depths of his eyes.

She was brave, this tiny Queen, and a quick dart forward to touch his mane was greeted with a burst of laughter. Quetzalcoatl was pleased with her effrontery. His boisterous laughter startled the little Queen, and she reacted by vanishing, only to appear within the confines of the [Fairy Ring], chittering in embarrassment at her flock.

Quetzalcoatl was pleased with the guardians I had crafted. And I was pleased to have established a wedge into another Pantheon’s Divine realm.