Mundo

Cristiano Mamani was born in a small city at the base of a mountain, beside the ruins of an ancient metropolis. Despite the incline of the land, everyone he knew played soccer every single day. He treated it like a language. He learned the basics, and as he got older, became fluent in all aspects of the sport.

On the narrow dirt roads of the city, Cris became somewhat of a star within the community. One day, while running circles around some other kids, he was approached by an older boy that he didn’t know very well.

“Are you Cris Mamani?” he asked.

“Yes, hello. I’ve seen you play, what’s your name?”

“I’m Angel. Someone told me that you’re the best in the city. From what I can tell, they might be right.”

“Oh, thanks, Angel. Nice to meet you.” Cris stated, and returned to his game.

Angel interrupted again, “Do you want to know if you really are the best?”

“No, I just play to have fun with my friends.”

“If you are as good as they say, you may be able to make it to the big leagues. Look around, Cris. This city could use a hero.”

Angel was right. The city was run down, and very little ever changed. Cris thought if he could go pro, he could fix the city up and change lives.

“Okay. How do we find out?”

“There’s a game tonight… in the ruins.”

It was against the law to enter the ruins, and beyond that, the locals saw the ancient city as a sort of holy place where their ancestors lived. Cris weighed the risk and insult to his people against the potential of becoming a professional player.

“I’ll see you there.”

Cris snuck out and entered the ruins as the sun fell. He’d never actually been inside before. The city was enormous, though he found the location of the game immediately. Upon entry, there was a staircase spanning the many floors of the city that led to a stone throne. He heard the players up top discussing myths and legends as they stretched before the game.

“My dad said this whole area was once covered in gold, but thieves came and stripped it. I wish I was here for that!”

Cris ignored the crass attitude towards his people’s sacred city and stepped up to the top platform.

“Glad you could make it.” Angel said sincerely and introduced Cris to all his teammates. “You’ll be playing against Carlos and his team.”

Carlos had been the one mouthing off about the gold, so Cris was pleased to have the opportunity to rival him.

An intense game ensued. Carlos and his team were very good, and Cris realized he was given a poor team to test his skill and leadership. He had no problem showing what he had. Halfway through, he had two goals and was defending every attempt Carlos made.

Just before another attempt to score, the game was interrupted by a steady, slow shaking. It was followed by violent tremors. The ruins were experiencing a catastrophic earthquake. Stone fell from the roof above the players. The stairs they used to get to the top broke away and the platform tilted as the foundation crumbled.

Carlos slid from one end of the platform to the other, and Cris was able to grab his hand to stop him from falling off.

“Don’t let go!” Carlos screamed.

While Cris laid on his stomach, holding the dangling young man with all his strength, a piece of stone from the roof landed right on his thigh.

He felt pain for only a moment, and then was numb. The earthquake subsided and some other boys helped Carlos back up. Cris, however, could not get up.

An ambulance arrived shortly after the incident and Cris had his leg amputated to save his life. He was told that he would never play again.

In response to this devastating news, Cris dedicated his life to aiding the victims of earthquakes. He traveled the world for a couple years to disaster sites and volunteered his time to help those in need. Though much was difficult from a wheelchair, he knew that someone like himself would use whatever assistance they could get.

After a few years, Cris returned home, passing by some of the young kids he knew as babies. He yearned to play soccer with them, to teach them all the things he was once so excited to learn. He went to the entrance of the ruins to forgive himself for the accident. There, he saw the sun rising in the middle of the night.

A myth from his childhood manifested before him. Zol, the sun god, stood in front of the ruins and raised his staff. “I find true worthiness here.”

Cris didn’t understand what was happening. He began to feel his leg once again. It healed not in flesh, but in gold. He stood and felt better than he did before the accident. When he went to thank Zol, all he saw was a golden feather left behind.

Cris returned to the city and showed everyone his new leg. He called on some old friends and summoned them for a game. As he took his first attempt at a goal, everyone had to dive out of the way of the ball, zipping past them in a flash. It broke through the net and all the players cheered for Cris, knowing he would soon be the best pro soccer player in the world.

“MUNDO! MUNDO! MUNDO!”