Year 11 of the SuaChie Calendar, Eleventh Month. Dawn City, Stone Manor.
The rustle of the parchment in my hands was the only sound that dared to interrupt the analytical silence of my study. I had set aside Menasuca's report, but its implications resounded with the force of a war drum.
The annexation of additional lordships by the Mexica was a subtle yet dangerous counter-blow. It was not an open declaration of war against the Tlaxcalteca, but a consolidation of borders and a reinforcement of control over tributes, which placed immense pressure on our towns and cities in the northeast of the Alliance we had secured through the initial trade agreements. These territories ran the risk of being isolated and, eventually, swallowed whole.
My mind raced, designing defensive plans. Advanced fortifications, mobilization of the Explorer Division, and the possible relocation of key armories. However, a moral obstacle, heavy and cold, halted me. A question that had tormented me since the kingdom's foundries began producing the first arquebuses and muskets with the iron from the Great Quyca.
The dilemma centered on the use of advanced weapons in these internal conflicts of the continent.
On one hand, the strategic imperative was obvious: the use of firearms would grant our own warriors, and our Tlaxcalteca allies, an unmatched advantage. A single volley could decimate a line of warriors armed with obsidian macanas and bows, and even if not decisively effective, it would at least terrify them. It would be a swift conclusion to a war that would otherwise drag on with an enormous human cost for both sides.
But the other side of the coin was a mirror I did not wish to face. I could imagine the paralyzing fear the warriors would feel when confronting such a disparity of force, at the sound of a gunpowder thunder capable of felling multiple men at once.
The power implied by this armament superiority would impose our dominion over other kingdoms and cultures, making us feared. But it would not be a reverential awe, nor the respect earned through wisdom and exchange. It would be the sheer terror of annihilation.
With this confrontation, the Suaza Kingdom would quickly become what I feared most: the foreign realm, replacing the position historically occupied by the European kingdoms. We would be, in the eyes of the peoples of the Great Quyca, the colonizers, the destroyers of cultures, those who enforce peace with the point of a bayonet and the roar of cannons.
I would become what I hoped to stop, I thought, the bitter taste of metal invading my mouth. The irony of fighting European imperialism with the very method of technological oppression was unbearable to me.
I left the Stone Manor. I needed to move, to escape the confinement of my office. A discreet but well-armed group of Explorer Division warriors followed me, along with a group of assistants who carried my notes and other items used on my usual walks. I walked aimlessly through Dawn City, my mind a whirlpool of conflicts.
War: Is it inevitable? How can we defend our interests without annihilation? Must we meddle in conflicts external to our kingdom? Or should we support one of the sides to ensure a balance of power?
Each of these thoughts deepened as I saw people greet me and smile while I traversed the city streets. Dawn City was a vibrant crucible. I could hear shouts and conversations in the soft Muisca of my people, the fluid Arawak of the Floating Isles, the resonant Nahual of the plateau merchants, and yes, even the Timucua dialect of the North Quyca.
Their voices were cheerful, full of life, and the productive bustle of a growing kingdom. Their laughter and energy highlighted even more the fear I imagined those peoples would feel when facing my firearms. They did not deserve that terror.
I continued my walk, replying kindly to the people who cheered me, concealing my grief behind the mask of benevolence. The smile was the veil that covered my worry and the heavy burden of my decisions.
The streets were crowded. There were people from all parts of the Kingdom and the continent, along with foreign ships docked in the port. The traffic included Taino canoes, large Suaza vessels, and occasionally, European vessels flying their respective banners, a constant reminder of the two fronts I was managing.
Finally, I arrived at a lookout point that had been built months ago, near the port, and gazed at the horizon. The doubts materialized on my face, the tension in my jaw only relaxing when I was sure no one was looking. The salty wind whipped my face, and the sun, already low, stained the ocean orange and purple.
"The ocean has no morals, only tide," I whispered.
Suddenly, a gentle movement behind me made my shoulders relax even before I heard a sound. I did not need to turn around. Only one person could have that instant effect on me.
Za, my mother, arrived. She was escorted by a group similar to mine, with female warriors and assistants. She approached without a word and looked at me, and I knew she had noticed my concern immediately. She did not question, nor reprimand. She simply came closer and embraced me.
I was momentarily surprised, the protocol of a leader collapsing, but then I returned the embrace eagerly. My mother's embrace was the only place in the Kingdom where I could stop being Chuta, the Suaza Leader, and revert to being just a child—something I would have wished for in my previous life. She was an anchor that brought me back to the simplest, most fundamental reality. The chaotic sound of the nearby port, the shouting of the sailors, and the pounding of the waves suddenly seemed to harmonize.
The time the embrace lasted was too short for my liking. When we parted, my mother looked at me with the same unconditional love as always, but also with deep understanding.
"No matter what your worries are, son," she said, and her voice was soft as velvet. "You will overcome it, just as you have done all these years. Also, remember you have many people who can help you, and your family will always support you."
I felt disarmed. Not because I doubted her support, but because these were exactly the words I needed to hear in that moment of self-imposed solitude. I had been so absorbed in strategy that I had forgotten the strength of humanity and community.
"Do you truly believe I can do it, Mother?" I asked, and the question was not about the war with the Mexica, but about the burden of being the only one with memories of the future.
My mother nodded without hesitation. Her eyes shone with pride.
"You have already proven to be much more than any of us could have imagined, Chuta. You have guided our people to a prosperity we never knew. The truth... the truth is I would like the Kingdom not to depend so much on you, so you could enjoy your life and your youth more. But I also know that you thrive on this challenge."
She said it in a simple, maternal tone, stripping the immense responsibility of its political weight and turning it into a simple preference, a vocation that made me happy.
I did not comment much further. I stayed by her side, watching the sea in silence, my mind less tense now. The conflict was still there, but now I had a new perspective: humanity. I had to find a solution that protected my people without trampling morality.
After a few minutes, my mother gave my arm a gentle squeeze. "It is time to go back, my child. We must prepare things for the journey to the Central City. We cannot disappoint your people; everyone is waiting to celebrate your twelfth birthday."
Several weeks later.
The sea and its dilemmas, as well as the anxiety of war, felt distant. I was arriving at Central City, the ancient Muisca capital and heart of the Kingdom, after a swift tour of some regional capitals.
As I approached, the vibrancy of the city struck me, a palpable, ancient energy that contrasted with the modernity of Dawn City.
People were waiting outside the city limits, or rather, the expansion of the old limits I remembered from months ago. They played wind and percussion instruments from all the peoples of the Kingdom, shouting and dancing with a contagious euphoria for my arrival. It was a welcome fit for a hero, a leader, and family.
A group of finely armed warriors, with impeccable uniforms and gleaming weapons, opened a path through the crowd, and the people respected my passage. I felt the joy of the people enveloping me, a reminder of why I did all this.
Everyone expected that I, who had spent more than ten years bringing them happiness, technology, and prosperity, would celebrate my 12th birthday with them. For one day, I could set aside the threats from Europe and the Mexica serpent to simply smile and receive the love of my people.
A week later, Month 1 of Year 12 of the SuaChie Calendar.
Central Manor.
Several days had passed since the celebration that had turned Central City into a hub of joy and music. I was at Central Manor, my house, and virtually the official residence of the Suaza Leader.
It was a manor similar to the one in Dawn City, with its polished stone walls and geometric gardens, but this one was, somehow, more mine. The one on the Floating Isles was a temporary dwelling and the center of government for a new territory; this one, however, was my home.
I missed the constant sound of the waves, the salty air that permeated every corner of Dawn City, but I felt much more at ease here, in the geographical and political heart of the Kingdom.
There were two powerful reasons for this preference.
The first was history. Central City, once a simple Muisca village, was a city I had built together with my people, stone by stone. I was born here, and I was a witness and architect of its evolution, watching it transforms into the largest and most advanced city on the continent, a beacon of progress. I felt the effort of the workers and my own in every cobbled street, in every multi-story building.
The second reason was the concentration of innovation. Unlike other places, it was here where much of the technology, tools, and customs exported to the rest of the Kingdom and its regions were born and perfected. Many of the amenities I had championed were concentrated in the capital.
Now, as I washed up after waking, I enjoyed one of those small but significant amenities. The toothpaste and toothbrush were a perfect example of the Suaza micro-revolution.
The paste, a simple and effective mixture of fine bone or eggshell powder, sweetened and thickened with honey, and flavored with natural mint, was effective. The brush, a piece of carved wood with animal hair bristles fixed with resin, was a tool unknown throughout almost the entire continent, but here, in Central City, its use was becoming normalized, improving the hygiene and oral health of our people.
Another distinctive element was the use of currency. In the rest of the Kingdom, bartering was still the usual form of trade in towns and villages, but here, in Central City, copper and silver coins were constantly used. Gold ones existed, of course, but they were not necessary for daily transactions.
The use of currency was so common that even small cities or towns near Central City had quickly adapted to the system, consolidating a more fluid and centralized economy.
These small details brought me a kind of advanced nostalgia, a constant reminder of how far we had come.
I quickly dressed in the formal Suaza tunic, ready for the day, and prepared to go to the Government House. Meetings and reports from ministers and department directors awaited me. Continental politics did not stop for a birthday, no matter how significant.
Upon arriving at the government complex, I ran into someone who was not commonly found in the hallways so directly. It was the Minister of the People's Ministry, Nemequene. It wasn't that I spent little time in the city, but that he was an incredibly busy man, almost as much as I was.
Nemequene, nephew of General Michuá of the Northwest Zone Army, had studied with me since the early days and was part of the original research office. He had found his passion in administration and macroeconomic planning.
Since the establishment of the People's Ministry, he had taken charge of everything related to Labor, Agriculture, Construction, and the general Development of the Kingdom. He had promoted complete structural reforms in the regional capitals, overseen large-scale agricultural planning, ensuring food supply, among many other things. He was a genius of this era; a methodical and brilliant planner, and he was barely just over twenty years old.
Nemequene greeted me with the formal reverence due, even though I had dismissed it. "Young Chuta, I am pleased to see you back, and allow me to congratulate you again on your birthday. The celebration was a resounding success."
Although his tone was formal, I considered him a companion and friend, a co-creator of the Kingdom. I quickly dismissed the protocol.
"Nemequene, my friend, it is a pleasure to see you. But I am surprised. What brings you here in person? Usually, we only communicate through mountains of reports and detailed responses."
Nemequene smiled, a gleam of enthusiasm in his eyes. "It is about a project, Young Chuta. A joint project we have been working on for a long time with the regional governors and their ministers. I couldn't communicate it only by letter."
I frowned, trying to guess. Nemequene had a mind that never stopped generating ideas.
Was it about the new network of paved roads? The standardization of drip irrigation systems in the south? Or perhaps the implementation of new forms of large-scale agriculture with the new draft animals beginning to arrive from European Quyca?
There were so many possibilities.
I surrendered to the immensity of his agenda. "Tell me directly, Nemequene. Which of your many ideas is it about?"
"The Mega Cultural Project, Young Chuta," he replied, excitement contained in his voice.
I was surprised, and genuine joy flooded me. I had completely forgotten that plan amid the European negotiations and the Mexica crisis.
Nemequene's idea was to create a system of standardized sports leagues for the entire Kingdom, and simultaneously build the necessary infrastructure: stadiums and playing fields in each region for every sport.
The goal was threefold: Cultural Union among the diverse peoples of the Suaza Kingdom, a Regional Economic Boost that would generate employment and commerce, and finally, the promotion of Internal Tourism, taking people from one region to another.
I was just as enthusiastic about the idea. The vision of large sports stadiums for the soccer we had adapted (a contact sport, fast and exciting), athletics tracks for the speed competitions that the Arawak enjoyed so much, stages for traditional Muisca wrestling, and arenas for group combat and military simulations.
Everything seemed very entertaining.
The idea immediately reminded me of the time I had posed as a warrior from the Children's Division in the kingdom's first combat matches. Back then, I wanted to show everyone that I was still a normal person, but I got the opposite result by defeating children who were much stronger than me.
I turned to him, the formality forgotten, my twelve-year-old face illuminated by enthusiasm. "When? Nemequene, when will everything be ready? Have we made progress on standardizing the rules?"
Nemequene noticed my excitement and hesitated slightly, his expression reflecting the crude reality of massive infrastructure construction.
"Young Chuta, the planning is complete, and the initial phase of selecting land and materials has already begun. But the construction of the large stadiums, athletics tracks, and main complexes will take time. If we want it to be done well, I estimate everything will be ready within three to five years."
Disappointment struck me like a bucket of cold water. Three to five years was an eternity when I was barely twelve. For a moment, I thought the project was already underway, but obviously, the general government had not approved any of it yet.
Nemequene, who is as good a mind-reader as a diplomat, noticed my disillusionment.
"However," he quickly added, with a reassuring smile, "we have pushed ahead the construction of the main fighting plazas and earth courts. These modular spaces can be used for the most popular sports, such as soccer and wrestling, and they will be ready in a much shorter timeframe. Two years, Young Chuta. In two years, the Kingdom will have its first official sports leagues in full operation."
Two years was much more digestible. The kingdom's most ambitious project was beginning to materialize.
I had focused so much on external conflicts that I had forgotten the marvelous internal projects that gave meaning to all the effort. I needed to remember that the progress and joy of my people were just as important as military defense.
This type of development was the true engine of the Suaza civilization.
.
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[A/N: CHAPTER COMPLETED
Hello everyone.
There's a slight delay, and it's because I had planned to include part of this chapter's theme later, years later in the narrative, but I thought it was more appropriate here, as it fits with the recent plot and the changing pace.
Similarly, I have some chapter sections focused on religion, but I'll only add them if you tell me it's necessary. If you think it's better to continue without delving further into internal religion and only address it when discussing religious differences, please let me know.
By the way, this new character was going to be introduced in one of the first thirty chapters, but I honestly forgot. Nemequene and another character I did add are the nephews of the kingdom's army generals, and all four are real historical figures. They were all Muisca leaders in their confederation.
UFD: Nemequene (1490-1514) inherited the throne of the Zipazgo, with its capital in Funza, from his uncle Saguamanchica (Sagua in the novel). Meanwhile, Quemuenchatocha (Quemuen in the novel) (1490-1538), at the age of 10, succeeded his uncle Michuá to the throne of the Zacazgo, with its capital in Hunza (where Chuta was born).
Did you notice that both succeeded their uncles in the same year, but only the younger one (Quemuen) ruled longer?
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Read my other novels.
#The Walking Dead: Vision of the Future (Chapter 89)
#The Walking Dead: Emily's Metamorphosis (Chapter 34) (INTERMITTENT)
#The Walking Dead: Patient 0 - Lyra File (Chapter 13) (INTERMITTENT)
You can find them on my profile.]