Pondering the tragic events which had forever changed his life, a lone figure sat quietly with his chair angled back against the stone wall. In the distance, the village church bells began to chime while passing clouds sporadically covered the scorching morning sun. As he tried to heal and mourn the losses of his wife, his children and his brother, Francisco kept mostly to himself in the town. Nothing would ease his pain. Like a domesticated wolf, he was a stranger to even himself and had become bitter and quick-tempered. He refused to hear stories from others who spoke to him of going home. Being a soldier and officer in His Majesty's service, he would continue to fulfill his obligations and duty if it meant returning to perform them, but he had had too much sorrow to go back to stay. He was an exile...a broken man. Everything and everyone he ever loved had been taken from him. The Pueblo Revolt of 1680 left him with only memories...memories of better days...of a time when the Indians were friends and not enemies. Having lost his faith in God...and his fellow man, he was a shell with no purpose and no soul. But the soft laughter of a young girl and the hypnotic voice of a ten year-old would guide him on a voyage of change and self-examination. And so begins a tale of Faith and Fortune...of Honor and Adventure. Cast out together with nearly three thousand fellow colonists...expelled by the Children of the Land from their place of birth, Francisco de Anaya Almazan was to be given a chance to start anew and a reason...once again...to believe.
