In November, the shores of Atoyac Lake were bathed in the tropical highland's sunshine. The sky was vast and clear, and the earth was a mix of green with a hint of yellow. The craftsmen and militia, wearing convenient short robes, bustled in front of the longships. Sweat from their labor rolled down their foreheads and backs. In this warm southern part of the Kingdom, winter was replaced by deep autumn, with no cold snowfalls nor freezing cold snaps. The temperature was around sixteen or seventeen degrees, comfortably like early spring.
Two Divine Revelation Priests stood silently, gazing at this early spring-like scene, imagining the polar ice and extreme cold. After a while, Scholar Mikki lowered his head, carefully rolled up the first scroll of the royal directive, and pulled out a second, cotton cloth filled with writings, asking in a deep voice.
