It Happen in the Gulf of Mexico – English Version – Part 4

Part 4




On that occasion, the Old Priest wore a vest, richly embroidered with Mayan designs and his high hat had the emblems of power, represented by the eagle holding a serpent in his claws. The sacrificial altar was a large smooth boulder placed at the centre of the village.

They had also prepared the magical mushroom beverage which had sacred powers to conjure up the spirits of the gods and make it possible to hear their revelation and wishes.

The Old Priest solemnly called the spirit, “I’m invoking our ancestor who was the founder of the City of the Sun. I ask you, Majesty, to come and share this night with us and to let us know your wishes. The strangers are with me and they have come in peace.

“They wish to know the traditions and legends of the glory of the city that you built with the wisdom of the gods.”

We were under the magical effect of the opiate mushroom drink, and with the spell of the Priest, a luminescent apparition, stood in front of us. He was regal looking wearing the vestiges of his power.

He spoke to us, “I am Lord Pascal, the founder of the City of the Sun. It was from this city that a new civilization sprung around this continent.

“I came from Atlantis, the city where the greatest civilization of the past existed. At the time this city was built, our homeland was slowly sinking to the ocean floor, from where it had previously emerged at the beginning of the creation of the world. It was then, that we, my brothers and I, the living Lords of Atlantis were ordered by the gods, to settle new cities around the world where we could survive and teach our knowledge to other people.

“That’s why the City of the Sun was created. At that is how similar cities and civilizations sprang on the other corners of the globe, and in time became equally powerful and centers of outstanding achievements as this city was.

“You, my people, are our direct descendents, and the guardians of the laws we wrote and the civilization we have founded.

“The strangers with you have come from far away to learn about us. My people welcome them. They had come in peace and they will bring only prosperity to our land. Let them guide you until the day of my permanent return will come and I’ll bring back the splendor of the past.”

After his speech, Lord Pascal suddenly disappeared into the darkness and mysteries of the underworld, He had spoken to his people, and they had taken note of his will.

Afterward the Old Priest announced, “The Lord has spoken, and we obediently accept his command. You, white strangers, are welcome and we will abide by your wishes.”




The Old Priest gave us ten strong men, armed with machetes, to cut a path in front of us, into the jungle to the City of the Sun. It was a hard and slow work as the bush was very thick. It took us over twelve days to reach our destination which was only ten miles away. And this wasn’t the only difficulty crossing the jungle at such a slow march. Snakes presented a major hazard zigzagging in front of us, with many very poisonous. But those creatures had become part of our diet and our guides used to grill their meat on the night campfire, presenting us with quite a delicious and tasty meal. The air humidity was unbearable and rivers of sweat poured from our bodies. In such weather, the mosquitoes proliferated so numerous that even our repellants were incapable to keep them at bay.

After a few days of this grueling march we were exhausted and we only wished to reach our destination, The City of the Sun, on the hill top. In our group, the most resolute was Maria spurring us in those difficult moments and we found help chewing some leaves that our Indian guides gave us to munch to increase the salivation and to regenerate our lost energy lost by fatigue.

Finally, unexpectedly the pyramid rose in front of us. It was majestic, over two hundred feet tall and it looked well preserved, even if, over the hundred of years since the city was abandoned by their inhabitants, decay was evident and shrubs started growing around.

All of us, in our own way, gave thanks to the Gods to have finally reached the end of our journey. We were exhausted by those long days of marching and we walked those last hundred yards to the shading base of the pyramid where we dropped our knapsacks and look forward to some rest.



Published by carlogabbiwriter

Italian born, and living in Australia. I'm writing for the past 15 years in both Italian and English language. I pubblished my first book in USA and it's available with Amazon. I also wrote several long stories which are grouped under the name "A song of Love" and several other works available in my blog in Rosso Venexiano.

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