Ancient texts speak of the Age of Abandonment, when the gods—those perfect, incomprehensible beings—chose to withdraw from the mortal world. Their departure marked the dawn of a new era, but they did not leave without a trace. Like parents unable to fully abandon their children, they left two gifts that would alter the destiny of all races inhabiting the world.
The first gift was seven divine weapons, relics of unimaginable power. Each was hidden in sanctuaries guarded by impossible trials, awaiting those worthy of their might. The first manifestation of this power occurred five centuries ago, when a Natsulix warrior—those dark-skinned, red-haired beings—wielded an obsidian spear. The massacre that followed became legend, and the Natsulix, once regarded as a peaceful race of merchants and artisans, came to be feared.
The second gift was subtler: a divine blessing bestowed upon select newborns. These individuals, known as the Blessed, were marked at birth with the symbol of the sun—a golden sigil glowing on their skin like a fallen star. Not only were they stronger and more beautiful than others, but their very presence altered the fate of those around them. Their words could inspire armies or topple kingdoms.
The emergence of these gifts divided the world into three groups. The Commoners, who made up the majority of the population, lived their lives yearning to be more. The Bearers, those who awakened the power of the divine weapons, became symbols of hope and change. And at the pinnacle stood the Blessed, the gods' direct chosen ones, who shifted the course of history by their mere existence.
In the heart of the kingdom of Tamarindo, where golden trees bore fruits that healed minor wounds—a privilege reserved for royalty—lay the private garden of the crown heir. Elsa Santillan III gazed at her reflection in a cup of lemon tea imported from the highlands where the elves of Tlalocan tended their mysterious gardens. The dark liquid distorted her sunmark, which spread like a golden crown around her neck.
"The world is boring," she said, watching as the garden flowers bent toward her, a common phenomenon around the Blessed. "No challenge is worthy of me. The gods left their weapons and blessings, but they didn't consider what would happen to those of us at the top."
A laugh like the whisper of wind through feathers answered her. Quetzalcóatl, the feathered serpent who had observed her since birth, materialized as a shadow among the blossoms.
"Is that how you feel?" asked the god, with whom she had conversed since learning to speak, though she had never fully trusted him.
"It is," Elsa replied, recalling the countless manipulation attempts she'd faced since childhood. "The closer I get to the throne, the less I trust people. Everyone approaches with hidden agendas, trying to control me for their gain. Like when they tried to marry me off to the northern prince, hoping my power would boost their harvests."
"You can trust me" Quetzalcoatl's voice was soft, almost hypnotic.
"Don't make me laugh," Elsa smirked sarcastically. "How could I trust a god? You play with us like pieces on a board. Like when you guided my cousin to the divine sword, knowing I would reject it."
Quetzalcóatl's laughter made the flowers tremble.
"Perhaps you're right. But I must admit you're a fascinating piece, Elsa. You returned the sword to your younger cousin, even though claiming it was your right. Do you hope she becomes a Bearer? Or are you simply seeking something to cure your boredom?"
Elsa surveyed the garden, where golden trees mingled with common flowers—a perfect metaphor for the society she would soon rule.
"You truly live up to your name as the Feathered Serpent. You know nothing interests me. Not humans, nor gods. I merely play with what I have, like when I let that collapsing nation establish trade here, just to watch it disrupt the market's balance."
"Not even Tlalocan?" Quetzalcóatl asked, his tone shifting in a way that finally captured Elsa's full attention.
Elsa recalled reports of the elves' mysterious city. Unlike other cities blending ancient and modern, Tlalocan seemed to exist in its own time, with cobblestone streets and crystal-clear canals. At its heart, they said, stood a tree as tall as a building—a silent witness to an ancient pact.
"The city Tlaloc watches so intently?" Her fingers traced the rim of her lemon tea cup, the same tea only Tlalocan elves could cultivate. "What makes that place special, aside from its tea?"
"It is the only city that kept its promise to the gods," Quetzalcóatl's voice grew solemn. "When the Great Forest was dying and the elves perishing, Tlaloc offered salvation. They upheld their end of the bargain, so he refused to abandon them entirely. Perhaps you'll find something intriguing there… or someone."
The remark piqued Elsa's interest. The garden flowers swayed gently, as if eavesdropping.
"Someone?" A smile curled her lips. "Are you referring to the rumor of a special visitor? I've heard a human managed to enter the city—quite unusual, considering elves rarely allow outsiders into their lands."
"Elves are known for their wisdom," Quetzalcóatl replied cryptically. "If they've permitted a human's entry, it must be for an important reason."
Elsa rose, her sunmark gleaming brighter as she fastened her blazer button. The descending sun painted the sky in gold, mirroring the hue of her mark.
"Then I'll go," she declared, her voice laced with curiosity and defiance. "Not because you suggested it, but because I'm intrigued by a city that held a god's attention for so long. Besides…" She paused, gazing at the horizon. "It's been ages since I've tasted their tea straight from the source."
"And what will you do if you meet him?" Quetzalcóatl's tone brimmed with amusement. "The famed hero who, like you, has drawn the gods' interest. The one they say can alter fate itself."
The wind tousled her greenish hair as she pondered. In her mind, she envisioned Tlalocan's ancient streets, the colossal tree at its center, and the possibility of finally finding something—or someone—to shatter her boredom.
"The hero?" She chuckled softly, the sound causing some flowers to wilt. "If there truly is someone who can match me, it'll be interesting. And if it's just another disappointment…" She left the thought hanging as the sun dipped lower, heralding the twilight that would soon cloak Tlalocan. "Well, I can always add them to my collection of interesting failures."
Meanwhile, Alejandro watched from his seat as the train arrived in Tlalocan, unaware his destiny had just begun.