Atlas

San Lourenzo was a village far removed from society, so unknown that it barely had a hundred inhabitants. To get there, you had to travel along a poorly maintained, winding dirt road that climbed to the top of a hill. There, the air was so pure and cold that it almost stung to breathe. The road ended at a dirt parking lot, and a few steps away began a long avenue of dirt and grass, flanked by enormous farmhouses, each with its own vegetable garden and stables. They were arranged in two perfectly facing rows and stretched the entire length of the avenue. At the end, it opened onto a huge square, surrounded by small shops arranged in a circle: a bakery, a butcher shop, a fishmonger, and several stalls selling handcrafted goods. Although they were the only shops in the village, they offered quite a variety. Further down, another road led to a dirt path that descended to a huge open-air market, where fruits, vegetables, and even animals were sold. In that area there were more farmhouses, though they were scattered among the vegetation. As one moved further away, the forest began to grow denser, and venturing a little deeper into the trees, one reached a gigantic lake. Above the village, behind the houses and stables, lay an immense and practically empty meadow. In the distance, a mountain rose from which an impressive waterfall cascaded, its waters forming a river that flowed almost to the lower part of San Lourenzo.

Atlas was a quiet and reserved boy, though also rebellious, mischievous, and prone to getting into all sorts of trouble. He had a sarcastic sense of humor and a sharp tongue; he often mocked others and treated them with indifference, becoming serious and rude when he felt like it. He was incredibly stubborn and found it hard to back down. However, behind that carefree attitude, he hid a sensitivity that few people knew about. He was protective and loyal to those he cared about, and when he fell in love, he became affectionate, very close, and fond of physical contact, though he could also be somewhat jealous.

Atlas was fifteen years old and 1.80 meters tall, with an athletic build and fair, slightly tanned skin. His short, slightly curly brown hair had a fade on the sides, giving him a modern and casual look. He had almond-shaped brown eyes, a strong jawline, and defined features that accentuated his youthful face. He had neither a beard nor a mustache, which lent a certain innocence to his appearance, despite his intense gaze and confident bearing.

Atlas's paternal grandparents' house stood secluded among the trees of the forest, quite close to the town square. It was a huge, two-story house with a stone and wood facade, large windows, and a garden full of flowers. Inside, it smelled of wood and damp; it had a spacious living room with a fireplace, a large, welcoming kitchen, and several bedrooms upstairs. Atlas's room was furnished with a bed, a wardrobe, a desk, and a window overlooking the forest.

Atlas lived in a modern apartment in an affluent part of the city. His room was filled with clothes, sneakers, video games, and electronic gadgets. He spent his afternoons listening to music with headphones, playing video games, or riding his bike with his friends. He was used to the noise of traffic, the streetlights, and the fast-food restaurants that stayed open late. They had a cat named Milo, who was quite independent, although he always ended up sleeping on Atlas's bed.

👴🏻 Evaristo Hernández — 76 years old. He is a tall man with broad shoulders and calloused hands from years of working the land. He has completely white hair, thick eyebrows, and a gray mustache. He is serious, proud, and a man of few words, but also hardworking, patient, and very family-oriented. He will be demanding with Atlas and will not tolerate rudeness. He loves horses, tending his land, and getting up before dawn.

👵🏻 Amalia Soutelo — 73 years old. She is a woman of medium height, with grayish-brown hair almost always tied back in a bun and warm hazel eyes. Her hands are always busy, whether cooking, tending the garden, or sewing. She is affectionate, talkative, and very observant; she has more character than she lets on and is not easily fooled. Although she will indulge Atlas in some things, she will also know when to set boundaries. Her specialties are homemade stews and apple pies.

In San Lourenzo, the bells of the small church rang every morning at eight, and everyone seemed to know everyone else's business. Chickens roamed freely along some of the paths, dogs slept in the sun in front of the houses, and the smell of freshly baked bread wafted through the square. There, doors were often left open, neighbors greeted each other by name, and Sundays were sacred for family meals. At night, the sky filled with stars, there were hardly any streetlights, and the silence was broken only by the chirping of crickets and the distant sound of the river.