I am laying here in an open area near the top of the mountain, exhausted. After a long 11,000-foot climb, I wasted no time and immediately got to work. My body was tired and I wanted badly to rest a while before commencing the task that I came up here to do, but one look at the overcast sky told me that time was running out. I simply could not rest until the job was done. Having no tools with me, I had to dig the dirt up with my bare hands. Handful by handful, I scooped up the dirt and placed it to the side. When the hole was deep enough, I took the stones out of my bag and placed them in the hole in the pattern that our medicine man instructed me to place them. I offered the prayer to Pacha Mama and I put the dirt back into the hole, burying the stones. And now I rest, hoping that She will hear our cries for help and spare our village from the oncoming storm.
“What are you doing?!” A voice cried out in the distance. It was Angelus.
“I did what Papa Duno told me to do. I have to save our village!” I replied, mustering the strength to stand as I spoke.
“No, Diego! This storm must come to pass. Our village must be destroyed!”
“Why would you wish such death and destruction upon our people, Angelus?”
"I had a vision from The Great Spirit. We have strayed from the old ways and have become corrupt and out of harmony with the land. We must be cleansed!"
“But the children, Angelus! What about the children?”
“If they grow up, they will end up as bad as we, or worse. It’s better this way.”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I’ll never forget what happened next. The image is forever seared into my memory and it will haunt me till the day I die. I couldn’t just let him have his way. I wasn’t about to let our village be destroyed by the storm. We fought. With what little energy I had left, I gave my all into preventing him from undoing my work. We reached the edge of the mountain, but neither of us realized it. With one mighty final blow, he got sent over the edge and fell to his death.