The boy hid, desperately trying to quieten his breathing and calm his heart. It beat in a quick rhythm and made his blood heat. The boy (better known as Moloch Maniae) prayed that the soldiers would leave, he prayed that they would not discover him because he knew that if they did, his fate would be sealed. They would take him to the capital - Derivakat, because of his skin Color. His skin was a pinkish white. It was almost untainted. But in this world, purity was despised. In this world, with its brutal hierarchy and insatiable hunger for power, purity was seen as a sign of weakness, a deficiency that marked one as weak. He had learned from whispered rumors and fleeting conversations that those who possessed purity in their heartstone would be cast aside as sacrificial offerings to Zectal, the father of all, who as a LAW supports everything together with Maztica, mother of all. The thought sent chills down his spine, and he clenched his fists in fear. His heart beat quickly and mercilessly in his chest. His heart beat sounded so loud to him. It was getting hotter too, almost unbearably hot. He prayed to Maztica, mother of all, that the guards would not find him. As beads of sweat formed on his forehead, he took a deep breath, steadying himself and focusing on not revealing himself to the soldiers. He knew where they were, they had just entered his and his parents home. He could see the spears pointed to the back of his parents. His mother was a dazzling shade of pink and his father was a calm azul. His parents where screaming at him to not move or reveal himself earlier. He almost screamed in rage from a soldier pretending to stab him parents. Suddenly, a surge of primal energy coursed through his veins, fueling his anger and almost pushing him to the brink…

The soldiers were getting closer and closer to his hiding spot, the air filled with anticipation and fear. Each step they took made his heart pound harder in his chest. Suddenly he heard a scream “Found him” the scream was followed by something ramming into his hiding spot, causing him to stumble out into the open. He tried to fight back his rage fueling him but he was swiftly defeated and knocked out. As darkness enveloped him, he felt the weight of his failure heavy on his shoulder. The soldiers remarks made him feel as if he was the mythical cypress tree holding and nurturing all life. Their taunts of “A good seed and worthy sacrifice. Hes a half-step pink” and the commanders smirk, followed by him saying “A shame that the king ordered all male child Pures to be brought back for training against the Inca.” With his consciousness slipping away, he clenched his fists and made a silent vow to himself. He would end the Maztican empire and Inca empire. It was an oath. A promise forged in the depths of his darkest despair, an unyielding determination to rise from the ashes and seek vengeance. This was the last thing he remembered before he was thrown onto a wagon. Besides him were many others.

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He soon woke, his sight blurred from exhaustion, though that soon ended as he shifted his body upright, only to end up coming face to face with a teenager. His hair was fair, and colored (much like his skin) a half step orange. The teenager tried to give a reassuring smile to Moloch but failed, with his smile turning into a grimace and eventually turning into a resting face. “You finally woke up kid.” The teen who was dressed in linen and hemp continued “We’ve been on the road for a few hours.” Moloch didn’t respond, still mulling in thought over his oath. “My names Zeck…” The teen, realising Moloch didn’t want to talk, left him alone, laying back on the wagon. A silence ensued while Moloch looked at his surroundings. The rich landscapes of the Maztican empires country side, awed Moloch, inspiring reverence to Qotal, THE ONE and lady Innana. The tall, giant like mountains, shocked him, for he had never before seen a terrain. He could see it all, to his left, a stream ran down the mountains, and all was covered in a massive sheet of ice and snow. It was as if this was a personification of lady Maniae’s divine beauty and authority. The peaks, which started of as simple hills, quickly grew larger and larger, giving birth to a scene that would forever remain in his head for its beauty. All manner of colossal bones emerged from the frozen snow, now effigies of an icy war that occurred between snow giants. The remnants of this war shocked him and left him stunned, in awe of the power these (now extinct) snow giants held…

It was then, that his head turned, now facing the right, he could see the further, seemingly endless expanses of the tundra forest. Unlike the massively elevated mountains and the complicated terrains, the tundra Forrest was relatively near to the ground. The endless glacial trees awed him, for some of those trees had a height that rivalled the mountains. As his gaze lowered from the glacial canopy, he realised he could see some glacial monkeys. These tundra monkeys were known for being sly, yet deadly creatures that lured prey in with false mischievousness and playfulness. He was sure that inside the glacial forest, many predators battled for dominance. And as he looked all around him, the awe for the gods, grew larger and larger. And as he looked at the seasons, he felt a sense of familiarity… However that feeling came by, and left, as if it was Quetzalcoatl. He quickly, shaked his head as a sense of embarrassment surged over him…

The silence was beginning to become unbearable to him…