Was Aztec's life destined to turn to a tragedy that even the moon couldn't help?
Was he bound to stay soulless without his wife, without love although his life?
"No I do not want my mate to die." Aztec yelled inside his conscience but the Spirit could hear him like always. The leaves scattered and trees shook with the heavy gale but Aztec continued to look at the moon in the sky going unmoved. Slowly the moon was replaced with a faint sketch of celestial figure appearing between the clouds and from the heaven slides a silver bowl. No sooner Aztec extends his hands, it lands in his palms.
"Aztec, you have two ways to get your curse lifted. Give this sweet dish of milk pudding to your wife. No sooner she consumes it she will give birth to a baby boy and you will be relieved of you
