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 There is a sprout of precious stones, a flourish of quetzal feathers, Are they your heart, life giver?

All leave the region of the dead, the common place we lose ourselves What are you to you, oh God? Thus we live. Thus, in the place of our loss, Thus we disappear. We the men, where will we have to go?

The eagle began to fly in circles around the boy; the sun was again shining with more intensity. The bird began a dive toward the boy and razed the head of the warrior, stopping atop a small pyramid located up above, on the path. Night Eagle approached the place, his body perfectly knew of the meeting.

The eagle stood on a beautifully carved stone monolith. It was a serpent in a coiled position. Its head excelled at the top, with a huge tongue down to the middle of the coiled body; its revealing fangs and eyes were focused on movement. Its cylindrical body in spiral, assumed a pyramidal shape. In front the serpent was the sculpture of a seated old man, with his spine straight but slanted. Over his head carried a vessel resembling a brazier. Four immense snails carved in green stone, surrounded it. The Eagle then addressed the young:

—Make a fire in this place and place embers on the top of the old Lord of fire. The divine ember that guides us in life was placed at the beginning of time, in the center; in the depths of our being. This inner fire becomes the temple’s torch, a star in the darkness of the night and our