Chapter 17The last thing he felt was cold, perfect water crushing him and expelling the life out of him. The darkness which was devouring him first inflicted him a dull pain, and this pain quickly morphed into a weird, intimate embrace. Francisco Vasquez de Coronado knew that death was the only remaining outcome. Dragged into the belly of the raging sea over Yucatan, finally broken after years spent in the prison of his unremarkable chamber in Ciudad de Mexico. The once mighty conquistador waited for the final blink of his eye, the last heartbeat after all air had left his body. He waited, but his eyes didn’t close. He waited, but after the initial convulsion, disorientation and fear, he was slowly becoming aware of the world around him. He was alive, despite everything that had happened.
