October 12, Hispanic Day. They have asked us to launch something commemorative for the date and we have been thinking about how to approach the Conquest without being dragged by the Black Legend or by chauvinism or irrational nationalism, an exclusive jingoism in many cases. Nor did we want to go into details and nuances about the differences between civilizing empires versus predatory empires, or disquisitions about rights, cruelties and benefits.

This memory is perhaps more metaphysical and spiritual, an approach oriented to the epic, the deed, the courage, the patriotism and the identity of the peoples. Influence the epic of some brave men whose gods were born in Extremadura and who, dressed in swords, breastplate and morion, jumped into the sea seeking glory and fortune for their Empire, and who faced other mythical and honorable giants, strong and powerful warriors protected by their gods of War and the Sun, who worshiped the rain and the stars in their imposing temples and who fought fiercely while beating their drums carved in ahuehuete wood - Huehuetl is thought to have a mystical and ancestral sense , because its sound is related to the heart of the earth.

Thinking about the dimensions of that historic journey and that encounter, remembering those men on both sides of the pond is what we have intended with this design, a look at that world in which life hung by a thread, and in that being, courage, honor and spirit had a value that today we can hardly imagine.

The last Iberian was a human comet that crossed this world until it was lost in the Iditarot, that distant place of which the natives of Alaska spoke. Its splendor left us with a blast of light that, like the ancient shamans of the tribe, deeply connected us with the forgotten memory of the true meaning of life and its mystery, its cosmic meaning. An invitation to reconnect with that ancestral past in which we beat in harmony with Mother Earth, which desperately urged us to strengthen ties with nature as keys to living in the future, to embrace and save Gaia - who reacts when we mistreat her. , and not be carried away by the drift of modernity that tries to dominate it to maximize material growth.

He wanted to be a wolf to live in unpolluted lands. It was that lupus that was part of mythology - where Palaeolithic man, fully integrated into nature, merged with the wolf in a rite of passage - turned into a warrior to face aggression ... Our archetype was a A rebellious, indomitable, visionary, free and wild hero who did not allow himself to be tamed and who fought tirelessly for life, forests and threatened fauna. The spell of his word, his energy, his enthusiasm, his vitality, his strength, his message and his codes captivated and transformed with his light a lineage, that of the line of the free, that like cranes stretched by the lash of the winter know, if not to return, at least feel, perceive and look out to that lost paradise that you dreamed of, so that in the Iberian nights the beautiful howls of the wolf will not stop being heard.

[Text and Design inspired by Felix Rodríguez de la Fuente and the masterful Cuarto Milenio program: “Felix, the last hero” by Iker Jiménez]

"He was not the most honest or the most pious man, but he was a brave man" P. Reverte.

If you lived dangerously and your life was hanging by a thread, if you defied authority, defending your reason and rights with the proud point of your sword, if you sacrificed yourself and were generous and human, if you were fearless, reckless, arrogant, brave, adventurous, seductive, rogue, loyal, if you were capable of the most heroic but also the meanest actions, if you were guided by your code of honour, if you sought glory on the margins of society and the law, if you lost your innocence in the face of the harsh reality of mud and blood, and if, disenchanted, everyone abandoned you. .. then you were probably an Old Thirdsman, a tired hero in rusty armour, a forgotten anti-hero like a cursed Alatriste.

American Indians: Great warriors, farmers and nomads. Sacred tribes with ancestral ties set among themselves throughout Alaska, Hawaii and the rest of EEUU, that formed the millenarian culture of the “red skins”. Native Americans like the Sioux, Arapajoes, Apache, Cheyenne or Cherokee and their famous leaders such as Geronimo, Crazy Horse, Sitting Bull that evoke the epic struggles of the Conquest of the Wild West.

The supreme product of Indian civilization was the warrior. His prototype contains a wealth of virtues that make him an admirable figure. And to be a good warrior as the Indians understood it, it was not enough to have extraordinary courage; He had to be, too, generous, detached, austere, noble: in short, a true gentleman, a true knight: a way of life and a "way of perfection”.

The irreverent and revolutionary Old skull, the spirit of fun. Skulls were used in the old traditions of satirical and ridiculous poems making social criticism and protest, dates 500 years ago. Also had been used in different plays like the ”Dance of Death” in the 14th century. People needed satire to help deal with the grim world (plagues and diseases) around them. But the symbol emerged in Mexico as a means of expression especially used with roguish and ironic tones against the nobles and powerful of the viceroy times. It is also used during the celebration of the day of the death.

"Only dead fish follow the stream of the river".

Swimming against the current is an odyssey in an open world where paradoxically there is more access to information but at the same time we are more controlled. Reflections of those dystopian universes — riddled with environmental disasters and cataclysms — from science fiction novels have come true. But there is still hope. There are spaces of freedom to ambush, where dissidents and freethinkers can react and rebel against the flashes of tyranny, censorship and dehumanization present in society. In some remote and lost place the Lineage of the free will always resist.

Breath Souls. Breath of life. Last Breath... The old skulls, bones, stones and the earth whisper to us ancient amazing stories, but also too many forged with iron, blood and death....

American Indians: Great warriors, farmers and nomads. Sacred tribes with ancestral ties set among themselves throughout Alaska, Hawaii and the rest of EEUU, that formed the millenarian culture of the “red skins”. Native Americans like the Sioux, Arapajoes, Apache, Cheyenne or Cherokee and their famous leaders such as Geronimo, Crazy Horse, Sitting Bull that evoke the epic struggles of the Conquest of the Wild West.

The supreme product of Indian civilization was the warrior. His prototype contains a wealth of virtues that make him an admirable figure. And to be a good warrior as the Indians understood it, it was not enough to have extraordinary courage; He had to be, too, generous, detached, austere, noble: in short, a true gentleman, a true knight: a way of life and a "way of perfection”.

"He was not the most honest or the most pious man, but he was a brave man" P. Reverte.

If you lived dangerously and your life was hanging by a thread, if you defied authority, defending your reason and rights with the proud point of your sword, if you sacrificed yourself and were generous and human, if you were fearless, reckless, arrogant, brave, adventurous, seductive, rogue, loyal, if you were capable of the most heroic but also the meanest actions, if you were guided by your code of honour, if you sought glory on the margins of society and the law, if you lost your innocence in the face of the harsh reality of mud and blood, and if, disenchanted, everyone abandoned you. .. then you were probably an Old Thirdsman, a tired hero in rusty armour, a forgotten anti-hero like a cursed Alatriste.

"He was not the most honest or the most pious man, but he was a brave man" P. Reverte.

If you lived dangerously and your life was hanging by a thread, if you defied authority, defending your reason and rights with the proud point of your sword, if you sacrificed yourself and were generous and human, if you were fearless, reckless, arrogant, brave, adventurous, seductive, rogue, loyal, if you were capable of the most heroic but also the meanest actions, if you were guided by your code of honour, if you sought glory on the margins of society and the law, if you lost your innocence in the face of the harsh reality of mud and blood, and if, disenchanted, everyone abandoned you. .. then you were probably an Old Thirdsman, a tired hero in rusty armour, a forgotten anti-hero like a cursed Alatriste.

You were a humble peasant who barely knew how to read & write. In your native Domremí countryside you heard voices & embarked on an uncertain destiny to liberate France from the English. Together with your faithful soldiers, you raised your banner & launched yourself in suicidal acts until liberating the siege of Orleans & crowning your dolphin. That was your glorious rise that preceded your terrible end. They betrayed you & accused you of heresy. A scorching fire ended your life.

Were you perhaps God's chosen one or a madwoman driven by schizophrenia & hallucinations? Be that as it may, you were the maiden acclaimed by your people, the fervent heroine that you faced against all the powers of the earth until you almost won the Hundred Years War. Today Joan, your name is already a legend.

Life is an adventure and we must not let it escape, do not you want to discover everything that this world offers you? Do not wait for the deathbed to look back and regret what you have not done all this time. Now is your opportunity, it is your moment, throw yourself on the horizon, take flight and cross borders, navigate to the beyond with the decision and courage of an eagle. Fortune favors the andes and daring, rest assured that the gods will reward you.

We are the horsemen who ride with beasts of pipes and steel based on black fuel, in this hostile land, the roads are nightmares, the cities are deserts and humanity feeds on men... the leaders cannot stop this avalanche, the storm from fear…

Driven by this confusion full of frustrated dreams, we unscrupulously take revenge on the burdens, we will annihilate with our sword, with hunger, with death and with the beasts...

The great earthquake dyes the sun black and the blood moon, the stars fall from the sky...

The great day has come... in the midst of this chaos hope will resurface...

Don't you want to ride like a horseman from the Apocalypse to hell itself carrying this iron cross? Discover new horizons and new worlds, cross the wild nature flying free to the ends of the Universe. Be bold, break barriers, the rules if necessary, help your people and do not forget that the trophy you carry is a symbol of loyalty, companionship, courage, rebellion and freedom.

We are the horsemen who ride with beasts of pipes and steel based on black fuel, in this hostile land, the roads are nightmares, the cities are deserts and humanity feeds on men... the leaders cannot stop this avalanche, the storm from fear…

Driven by this confusion full of frustrated dreams, we unscrupulously take revenge on the burdens, we will annihilate with our sword, with hunger, with death and with the beasts...

The great earthquake dyes the sun black and the blood moon, the stars fall from the sky...

The great day has come... in the midst of this chaos hope will resurface...

You were a humble peasant who barely knew how to read & write. In your native Domremí countryside you heard voices & embarked on an uncertain destiny to liberate France from the English. Together with your faithful soldiers, you raised your banner & launched yourself in suicidal acts until liberating the siege of Orleans & crowning your dolphin. That was your glorious rise that preceded your terrible end. They betrayed you & accused you of heresy. A scorching fire ended your life.

Were you perhaps God's chosen one or a madwoman driven by schizophrenia & hallucinations? Be that as it may, you were the maiden acclaimed by your people, the fervent heroine that you faced against all the powers of the earth until you almost won the Hundred Years War. Today Joan, your name is already a legend.

"Only dead fish follow the stream of the river".

Swimming against the current is an odyssey in an open world where paradoxically there is more access to information but at the same time we are more controlled. Reflections of those dystopian universes — riddled with environmental disasters and cataclysms — from science fiction novels have come true. But there is still hope. There are spaces of freedom to ambush, where dissidents and freethinkers can react and rebel against the flashes of tyranny, censorship and dehumanization present in society. In some remote and lost place the Lineage of the free will always resist.

You were a humble peasant who barely knew how to read & write. In your native Domremí countryside you heard voices & embarked on an uncertain destiny to liberate France from the English. Together with your faithful soldiers, you raised your banner & launched yourself in suicidal acts until liberating the siege of Orleans & crowning your dolphin. That was your glorious rise that preceded your terrible end. They betrayed you & accused you of heresy. A scorching fire ended your life.

Were you perhaps God's chosen one or a madwoman driven by schizophrenia & hallucinations? Be that as it may, you were the maiden acclaimed by your people, the fervent heroine that you faced against all the powers of the earth until you almost won the Hundred Years War. Today Joan, your name is already a legend.