Once upon a time long ago, lost among clouds and mountains, men and women lived in a city that was so high you could measure the sky from it.
A city built on the scale of giants, with the hope and wish that its inhabitants could pull themselves up by their souls to the height of the Titans.
In the heart of this ocean of life, the reign of a King and Queen began. They governed hand in hand, and their people thrived.
One day, a rotten odor drifted in from afar, a fragrance of redness. For the first time, the sovereigns saw a rain fall that corroded the softness of the city's stones. It was cold and there was hunger. The city became a pile of stones, then ruins.
The inhabitants fled to the sound of war drums and, when the last stone had fallen, only the King and Queen remained, with sadness on their faces. They were decapitated and their heads were buried under the rubble of their city, where life and dreams had vanished.
But their love was strong, and their spirits lived on eternally. And under the earth, their bodies were slowly pieced together, century after century.
One day, nomads saw the bodies of the King and Queen rising from the ground in pieces. They were monumental statues, on the scale of the surrounding mountains. Everywhere, the nomads told the tale of a forgotten place where life had come again.
So the men and women returned among the mountains that surrounded the horizon to witness the rebirth of their monarchs. Thus, the King and Queen were rebuilt in the size of giants, commensurate with the Titans for whom the city had once been invented. Fear and tears were forgotten, and all shared a common dream that recalled the Golden Age.