. . . The First B'ak'tun . . .
Cauac
... and so, I was born. The first child of this earth. The four creator gods compelled my mother to name me Dustcloud. My parents' own names were Hunac and Ah; at first they did not suspect that I was more than simply a child, for the gods did not deign to speak with them. On the other hand, no such restrictions applied to me. I inherently knew my purpose - I rememered my converstion with Mulac, Cauac, Ik' and Kan. I kept quiet, however, until the age of six. Then, one day as I walked through a small break in the foliage with both my parents, I felt something. I'd been told by Cauac that this was the arranged signal; something important was about to happen which relied on my knowing participation. That
something was the message that would shatter our small world.
"Mother. Father."
I spoke with authority, as I had not been able to do since my birth. Hunac and Ah listened when they heard the voice I used; it boomed like the voice of a six-year-old never should, as it was the voice of one who had been sent by the gods.
At last, Ah spoke. "Yes, my son?"
"Be prepared for what I am about to tell you. I have been sent by the gods to tell you what must happen.
This is the third earth. You know this, for it has been told for eternity. I am compelled to tell you that it will be the last; I know the exact date of its ending. It lies thousands of years away, thousands upon thousands of days, but it will come. The gods themselves told me this, so you may trust it completely.
I must remain on this earth for eternity, to keep the truth alive, but you will be the parents of our people on this earth. Ahead of us lie thirteen eras,
b'ak'tuns. It's known to all three of us here. In four years, I will simply stop growing. This also must be. Only a child can do the duty that must be done at the end of all ages."
Hunac spoke this time. "You are the prophet?"
"I am the prophet."
"What, then, must we do?"
"You will have other children, twelve in number. They and myself will be responsible for an age of this earth. I call the ages
b'ak'tuns; they are not true
b'ak'tuns, for they are not of equal length as the ones on our calendar. They represent eras of this earth, the first one ending at a point in time known only to myself.
Your next child will be reponsible for this first era. He will not die until its end.
Name him the Walker, for the first age will be one of movement for our people."
Dumbfounded at all they just heard, the pair left me in the clearing and went back to our shelter. They needed to come to terms with who I was. They never knew as I did.
I looked around me at the place where I stood, and somehow I knew that this would be a place where many things happened.
This will be a place where many gather, a city. But not for a long time.
For the first years, we will wander.
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Non Canon Intermission
You're not going to get any gameplay for a while yet, I'm afraid. The updates are normally going to be once a week, but I'm trying to get four in before I go camping on the New Year - only the last of those four actually pokes into the start of the game. I had to do it that way, because otherwise I'm leaving out a good 2,500 years and not doing anything with them.
All credit goes to paint.net for the screenshot, and sorry for the yield icons (and blue circle) in advance. I couldn't get rid of them without going on to the next turn.