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The Eternal Legacy
Under the starry mantle of the small and mystical town of Luque, Pedro begins an unexpected adventure of clues that plunges him into the depths of the earth and his own lineage, in a moving novel of personal improvement that intertwines adventure, tradition, and self-knowledge.
A story that reminds us that, in the search for forgotten treasures, the real gold lies in the connections we weave with our history and with those who came before us. A reading that invites you to immerse yourself in the magic of a magical town and in the eternity of family ties.
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THE ETERNAL LEGACY
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The total or partial reproduction of this book is not allowed, nor its incorporation into a computer system, nor its transmission in any form or by any means, be it electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or other methods, without prior permission. and in writing from the publisher.
Violation of the aforementioned rights may constitute a crime against intellectual property (Art. 270 et seq. of the Penal Code). Contact CEDRO (Spanish Center for Reprographic Rights) if you need to photocopy or scan any part of this work.
If you wish to request authorization for partial publication of the work, contact us at [email protected]
First Edition: September 2023
© 2023 Agustin Rosa Marin, Ph.D. All rights reserved in its multiple formats. This work has been translated into 18 languages.
Barcelona, Spain
Chapter 1: The Crossroads
The streets of Luque, with their worn cobblestones and white houses adorned with ochre details, had always been a silent witness to the lives of brothers Andrew and Peter. From above, the majestic Moorish castle overlooked its inhabitants with the solemnity of centuries past, reminding everyone of the legacy of those who had gone before.
That evening, the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky shades of orange and pink. Birds returned to their nests and the air was tinged with the fresh scent of the Subbética mountains. Yet in the brothers' home, the atmosphere was thick with tension.
Andrew, standing tall at over six feet, leaned against the door, gazing into the distance. He epitomised the traditional Luque man: robust, with calloused hands and a life tied to the land. His posture was stern, yet his eyes concealed a sea of sorrow.
Peter, on the other hand, sat on an old wooden chair, nervously fidgeting with the 3,000 pesetas he'd saved. His tousled brown hair and slimmer stature gave him a youthful, anxious look.
"You know you can't just up and leave, Peter," Andrew said gravely. "Grandfather Joseph just passed. Now, more than ever, we need to stick together.”
Peter looked up, locking eyes with his brother. "I know, Andrew. But as much as I love this village, it's got nothing left for me. Barcelona's a city of dreams and opportunities.”
Andrew tsked in disapproval. "Always with your dreams. Have you forgotten who we are? We're from Luque, Peter. Our ancestors lived and died here, defending every stone.”
"I respect that," Peter replied. "But I don't want to spend my whole life wondering what could have been if I'd dared to seek something more. I don’t want my dreams to remain just that, dreams.”
Andrew stepped closer to Peter, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I know you're doing this because of Grandfather. I know his death affected you. It affected me too. But running away isn't the answer.”
Peter glanced at the pesetas in his hand and then at Andrew. "It's not running away, Andrew. It's searching. Searching for purpose, a different life, something that makes me feel whole.”
Silence settled around them. Both brothers stood at a crossroads, bound by blood and tradition, but pulled in different directions by their desires and dreams. As night began to fall, the castle's shadows seemed to envelop Luque.
That night, two hearts under the same roof beat to different rhythms, hinting at an inevitable shift in their intertwined fates.
August in Luque was usually festive, with preparations for the patron saint festivities in full swing. Streets would shimmer with lights and colours, and neighbours would gather to share stories and laughter. But this year, Grandfather Joseph's death had left a void in the community's heart, especially in the brothers' home.
In a corner of the living room, a black and white photograph of Grandfather, his signature smile and wide-brimmed hat in place, presided over the room. The sunlight streaming through the window bathed his face, a constant reminder of his absence. It had become a silent touchstone, a testament to their deep-rooted connection to Luque.
Peter glanced at the photo, tears filling his eyes. Grandfather had always been his compass, regaling him with tales of the world beyond the mountains, encouraging him to dream big. To Andrew, however, Grandfather epitomised tradition and duty, the core values that kept their family tied to Luque.
"Do you remember how he'd take us to the castle and tell us about our ancestors?" Peter remarked, trying to break the heavy silence.
Andrew nodded but remained silent, fixated on the photograph.
"He always said the world was vast, that we should explore it," Peter continued. "He never wanted us to stagnate.”
Andrew finally replied, his voice edged with emotion, "He also taught us the importance of family, of caring for our roots. And you just want to leave it all behind?”
The tension was palpable. The approaching festivities, usually a joyous occasion, only magnified the rift between the brothers. Laughter and singing echoed from the streets, in stark contrast to the icy silence inside.
Peter moved to the window, gazing at the imposing castle in the distance. "Grandfather spoke of the world, of opportunities, of adventure. He taught me to dream, Andrew.”
Andrew approached him, his gaze intense. "And he taught me the value of what we have here. Of sacrifice, of love for our land and our people.”
They looked at each other, two souls grappling with grief in their own ways, each holding onto their own truths and pain. The night in Luque was set to be a long one, filled with introspection.
