Chapter Two: The Lost Diary Pages of El Esperanza

March 30th 1974

We were on the brink of creating history, just across that creek and we reach our destination. We were told by our forefathers that this land we approach has magic far beyond our imagination. The land we only know as "The Land of The Woods". We only heard stories of the complexity that is "The Land of The Woods", the climate does not fit into logic and the beliefs there are totally irrelevant to ours and we for sure want to understand this foreign land. From the journeys that we had, we have yet to see a land short of beliefs and yet it can survive this cruel and harsh world.

Incidentally, our people have all shed their blood. The young blood of sacrifice, used to paint their walls red in fury and in passion. They have always prayed to us and they told us the stories of the devils and how they emerged as champions in our past battles. There was also the part where the old and courageous die, our people that were true to us; now there are norms who are despicable.

They told us stories of the battles and how it feels like a nightmare. The kind where you would wake up from it sweating in fear, afraid that the dream was actually true and it haunts the living daylight out of you. There was fire everywhere, the yellow river of anguish; the fallen heroes of their time. Then there was the story of the story of the fair maiden, who struck riot, sitting in between battles; unfazed by the pain and the agony that beholds her eyes.

They say her beauty was unmatched; it even surpasses her almighty courage. Her skin smooth like the silk that runs down the shoulder of our king as it is on ours. Her eyes, they hold a dark magic that only the oldest of kings know of and it was the colour of the seven seas and it had the intensity of the majestic sun. All who look at her, they fall.

I was stopped by the rips of the pages, I was unable to continue. The pages are lost; all there is on the page after final rip was:

We laid her down our arms when we first met and we whispered to her the words that she’s been longing to hear. That was how we made her believe, another believer down our ranks. An amazing recruitment to be proud of, it wasn’t like all the others. This has been another fruitful day, now as we approach the heart of this land. We have now the lady who has seen this land die and come back to life.

Till we meet again,

El Esperanza.

April 21^st 1974

I wonder if in between the pages lost, he met his twin. This was the diary of my great Gramps, he was a great ruler, and he had believers unlike the Gods of today. He died in 1989; well that was what they told me. But he does not have a grave, they said he died at sea, but mum always told me that the great El Esperanza is still alive. He is just lost at sea and some sailors claim to have met him in their travels. Although all of those who said they met him were executed at once, they say we can hear his faint heartbeat at the stroke of midnight. He is out there alive, waiting for his war to end. When will it ever end?

He should be over a hundred years old today, and believe it or not. I still believe in him, the great El Esperanza. He is not just a remnant of my memories, he is real.