The next day.
The morning sun shone upon the water, a sapphire canvas stretching to the infinite horizon. The sound of the sea, a constant symphony of waves against the wooden hull, calmed me.
I was on the prow of Sogeking's ship, the legendary King of Marksmen, feeling the sea breeze and the salt in the air. It was a familiar sensation that I was growing accustomed to in recent months.
I held my spyglass firmly, the cold metal feeling like an extension of my arm. Beside me, Sogeking also scanned the horizon with his, his usually jovial expression replaced by an intense concentration.
I had been waiting for this moment for days, a calculated and precise wait while our maritime patrols repositioned to secure the area. The decision to confront the 'guests' with a reduced fleet had been mine: three Tequendama II ships and three escorts of the original version. It was a silent declaration of our superiority.
The foreign fleet, in the end, had only three vessels, the largest being the carrack, which was a little smaller than the original Tequendamas.
"They look lost, don't they, Young Chuta?" Sogeking said, his spyglass slowly lowering. A deep sigh, almost a lament, escaped his lips.
"What's wrong, Sogeking? Are you disappointed?" I asked him, also lowering my spyglass to see him.
A smile formed on my face. I couldn't help but laugh.
For months, I had spoken to them of a foretold danger, of a threat coming from the sea, and now they were faced with only three ships that sailed with an apparent sense of disorientation.
"Haha, of course, Young Chuta. After all the preparation, the construction of Dawn City, the rigorous training. I thought we would at least see a fleet of a hundred ships, an epic battle. But this..." He gestured with his hand. "This looks more like a lost fishing excursion. Those ships are barely larger than the first canoes we built. They look small and unstable."
His tone was jocular, but I noticed a hint of genuine disappointment in his words. He was the most skilled captain I had, and his sailor's spirit longed for a true challenge.
"Don't be hasty, Captain. It's likely this is just a reconnaissance fleet," I explained, my laughter fading and my voice growing more serious. "It's very likely they are only sounding the waters. And as for their power, don't be deceived by the size of their ships alone... They could have ships like the Tequendama's II version."
I looked at the horizon again, thinking about the history from which I came.
"What's more, their leaders may not be as benevolent as our own, Sogeking... They see lands as properties to conquer and peoples as vassals to plunder. I doubt they see their sailors as people worth saving."
Luckily, I didn't have to tell him more. With that single phrase, he could infer that the danger was not just technological or military.
Sogeking's expression shifted from disappointment to curiosity. My words about the leaders and other kingdoms intrigued him.
"So... you think there are more kingdoms out there? And they have ships bigger than those?" The excitement returned to his eyes, the challenge in his words sent a pang of fear through me.
My stomach clenched.
I had always lived with the terror of the history I knew, the genocide, the destruction of cultures. My knowledge of the future felt like a dark shadow on my shoulder. But, upon seeing the pure excitement in Sogeking's eyes, and noticing the calm and skill of my navy, I realized something.
Maybe I had overestimated them.
I had allowed the fear of my past life to cloud my judgment, making the threat seem bigger than it actually was.
How strong could they be?
Our kingdom was now advanced, and, most importantly, unified. I mumbled something to myself, something incomprehensible. I didn't know if I had said it in Muisca, in Spanish, or in my own language from the future.
A little confused, I raised my spyglass again and looked at them. The three ships swayed gently on the waves. They were not the great threat I had imagined, at least for now.
Third Person POV
A few moments earlier, on the open sea.
Columbus remained in the navigation room of the Santa María, a space that had been his sanctuary and, in recent days, his ordeal.
The carrack, which had miraculously withstood the tempests and the vastness of the sea, now swayed with a slowness that he found more torturous than a furious swell. The motion, which should be a sailor's melody, was for him a constant hammer against his skull.
A month.
He had been wandering the immensity for more than a month, with the only company of his navigation charts and the theories of the court's scholars. However, there was no sign of the East Indies, not a glimpse of land, not even a bird to indicate proximity to the coast. Madness was a ghost that haunted every corner of the ship, and Columbus felt it breathing down his neck.
He dropped the quill onto his logbook. The ink stained the parchment in a meaningless blot, a stain that symbolized the imperfection of his expedition. He knew it had been a mistake to bring so many criminals.
His promises of freedom, royal pardon, and riches had been the only way to convince a crew to accompany him on a voyage that many considered suicidal. The Pinzón brothers, true to their word, had quelled a mutiny weeks earlier, but the silence that followed the repression was heavier than the tumult.
Despair had set in, a tangible force that corroded every fiber of the sailors' morale. Each passing day, Columbus's dream—to become the greatest explorer the world had ever known—faded, drowning in the salty waters of the Atlantic.
He left the journal and went on deck.
The fresh air on his face did not bring the comfort he had hoped for. He observed the men: haggard faces, unkempt beards, and empty eyes that refused to look at the horizon.
The only hope they had left was for this journey to end, regardless of whether it was in glory or defeat.
The words of encouragement and promises of riches he had whispered to them in the first days now had no effect. They were empty promises, like a wind that only moved the sails.
He paced the deck, lost in his thoughts. He went over his notes again and again, the theories he had studied and the maps he had drawn with meticulous care. He was so immersed in his desperation that he did not notice the shadows drawing on the distant horizon.
But high above, in the crow's nest, a young lookout did notice them. With a lost gaze, he had been thinking about his future freedom, the debts he had, and the distrust he felt for Columbus's words. His mind wandered between his past life and the uncertain promise of a future one, until something broke his monotony. A movement, a presence that did not resemble that of clouds or waves.
"Land!", the lookout cried, his voice broken by euphoria. It was a heart-wrenching shout, a cry of hope that spread across the deck like wildfire.
Columbus, who was walking back and forth, stopped dead in his tracks. He raised his head, his heart beginning to beat hard. Emotion took hold of him, an overwhelming force that had been dormant for weeks.
The dream. His dream.
The explosion of happiness was so intense that the admiral gave a couple of hops on the deck, like a child who has found a treasure. The crew, previously disheartened, rose from their positions and ran toward the prow, their eyes filled with a renewed spark.
"Man!", Columbus shouted, raising his voice. "Confirm what you see! Is it land?! Is it the land of the Indies I have promised?!"
The lookout, who had jumped down, was pale, and his voice lacked its former enthusiasm.
"No... it's not land, Admiral," he replied with a worried tone, pointing his trembling finger toward the horizon. "They seem to be moving... and they are coming towards us."
Columbus's jubilation vanished. Confusion overcame him. He looked in the direction the lookout pointed and saw the same thing: several shadows approaching slowly, but relentlessly, toward their ships. It was not the coast he had longed for, it was not the promised land, but his spirit did not sink entirely.
He stood tall, curiosity overcoming fear. He wondered what kind of ships or vessels they would be, his mind discarding the idea that they were from any European civilization. What was approaching was mysterious and unknown.
The admiral, with a hand on his chest, prayed to God that they were not the mythical creatures told of in sailors' legends. After all, it would not be a great irony to survive the crossing, only to be devoured by a sea monster.
First Person POV
On the King of Marksmen.
Back on the prow of the King of Marksmen, all I could do was watch. In some way, my role as the 'Son of Heaven,' or at least as a commander in this mission, had relegated me to the role of a mere spectator.
I couldn't move the ships with a joystick like I did in my naval strategy games in my past life.
Every movement, every tactical decision, had already been coordinated in advance by the navy captains, including Sogeking.
With the precision of a well-oiled clock, the ships that had separated began to flank the 'guests'' fleet.
I watched through my spyglass as two of the Tequendama IIs moved with agility, each escorted by an original Tequendama. They looked like predators surrounding prey, with the prow of their ships pointing toward Columbus's helpless vessels. The remaining Tequendama II positioned itself at the front of the foreign fleet, blocking any possible escape attempt. Meanwhile, we, aboard the King of Marksmen, placed ourselves at the rear of Columbus's ships, completing the circle.
The formation was perfect. It was a silent display of power, a choreography of iron and wood that screamed without words: you are surrounded.
Panic took hold of the crews of the Santa María, the Niña, and the Pinta. My eyes, through the spyglass, saw the sailors running back and forth on the decks. The sails were in disarray in a failed attempt to readjust them, the ropes tangled at their feet. The scene was one of pure chaos.
On every deck of the Kingdom's ships, the situation was completely different. Jubilation boiled over, smiles and looks of pride were exchanged, a reflection of the confidence they felt in their naval superiority. It was the first time the Suaza Kingdom's navy showed its power to a foreign civilization, and the satisfaction in the air was palpable.
On the deck of the Santa María, a man with a pale face and an unkempt beard, who was shouting frantic orders to his crew, collapsed against the mast. His expression was one of pure defeat.
Only five minutes passed. There was not a single shot, not a single word of threat. Only the imposing presence of our ships. Suddenly, the Santa María hoisted a white linen flag.
A cry of astonishment resonated on our deck. I was surprised by the speed of their surrender. It was obvious that their crew was not ready for a war. Their objective was reconnaissance and wealth, not a battle at sea with a superior navy.
I lowered my spyglass and looked at Sogeking, who was watching me, waiting for my next order. With a satisfied smile on my face, I shouted to him: "Sogeking! Escort them to Dawn City! And have them prepare for a grand reception!"
"Understood, Chuta!", Sogeking replied, his voice resonating with renewed energy.
The announcement spread by shouts throughout the ship, and from one moment to the next, the cries of jubilation transformed into a coordinated and efficient movement.
Three hours later.
The sea breeze no longer brought only the smell of salt, but also the aroma of wet earth and the wood of the docks. I was at the port of Dawn City, in a new outfit.
Simte, without consulting me, had sent the bishop of the newly built temple, a devout and eccentric man, to take care of my clothing. Despite my reluctance to theatrics, I knew that Simte had a plan: to show the magnificence of Chuta, the promised 'Son of Heaven.'
I had dressed in a ceremonial tunic of white linen, with beautiful colored embroideries. I wore a gold crown with a sun and moon in the center and, reluctantly, had allowed some gold and emerald ornaments to be placed on me.
In that moment, I felt no shame. My heart beat with a pure and genuine emotion. History had told me what had happened in the past. But now, for the first time, I was witnessing a different outcome. The history I had read was no longer a condemnation. It was a lesson.
I watched as the Spanish sailors disembarked, escorted by my soldiers. Unlike the sailors of my kingdom, theirs looked exhausted, with dirty clothes and lost gazes. I saw the discomfort on their faces, but also an incipient astonishment.
Their astonishment was at what they saw in the port. The docks were filled with hundreds of sailors from my navy, waiting for the arrival of their companions, I saw no criminals in the port, and the order was far from what was seen in European ports, or at least that's what I believe.
Everyone was dressed in white linen naval uniforms with gold insignia on their arms and chests. On each dock, thousands of goods could be seen ready to be transported in their ships. Huge buildings that were perhaps very different from those they knew could also be seen. All of this must have been a shock to the eyes of the Europeans.
My gaze fell on the man who came in front. His clothes, once pristine, were worn, and his face showed the weight of desperation and the immense burden of command. Despite not having met him in person, there was no doubt.
A chill ran down my spine, and the emotion of this historical moment took hold of me. It was him. Finally, after years of preparation, of a past life and this life, I was standing face to face with the man who had changed the history of the world.
The man who came to conquer me.
He is Christopher Columbus.
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[A/N: CHAPTER COMPLETED
Hello everyone.
I hope you liked the episode because I did.
We have a chapter with two perspectives, so as not to bore you with a chapter about Columbus just to show the encounter, which is why this is also a longer chapter.
By the way, I don't know about you, but I would be excited to be part of that moment. Maybe it sounds like Chuta is too excited, but I put some of myself into it.
Unnecessary Fact of the Day: The phrase "land in sight," while obviously not coined by this lookout, represents the most important announcement of the discovery of land on a maritime expedition. Keep in mind that nothing was known about the sea west of Europe, and while there were other equally or even more important expeditions, this is the one that set the precedent for all the others.
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Read my other novels.
#The Walking Dead: Vision of the Future. (Chapter 78)
#The Walking Dead: Emily's Metamorphosis (Chapter 25)
#The Walking Dead: Patient 0 - Lyra File (Chapter 9) (PAUSED)
You can find them on my profile.]