Francisco prepared everything for the night, asking his father for a horse while also readying the servants. A hill wasn't exactly a safe place in those times—on the contrary, it was dangerous—so having a few servants watch over them was wise. After all, they were just fifteen. When his father heard their plan, he immediately dispatched four more servants. Grandma María, with her conflicted expression, helped prepare the food.
Francisco put on a clean shirt and a poncho, fixed his hair as best he could, and prepared for their nighttime outing. This was the first time they were out as something more than childhood companions. Even though their parents couldn't fully support the relationship, it was almost impossible for the two of them to be apart. Carlos and Grandma María could only watch over them, ensuring they didn't cross the line, hoping that one day either the law would change or Francisco would reach a high enough position to change it himself.
Once ready, Francisco waited at the estate entrance. Five minutes later, Catalina appeared. She looked breathtaking, completely natural—unlike most women of 1790, who risked their health with dangerous cosmetics to whiten their skin. Francisco, having been raised around mestizos and influenced by fragments of another world, didn't measure beauty that way; to him, her natural face was perfect.
As a gentleman, he helped her onto the horse and then climbed up behind her. The servants mounted their horses as well, two per horse, lighting oil lamps to guide the way. With the lamps swinging gently, they rode to the hill. Francisco prepared the area with arepas, aguapanela, and a comfortable blanket.
They sat beside each other, watching the moon, and Catalina looked at him and said softly, trying to smile despite her concern: "You know, you've been a little different since you woke up. Your personality is the same, but you're more active. Before, in Bogotá, you seemed to go with the current—following your father to business, going to dances or the palace—but you never took initiative. Now you're running your own industry, planning to go to Germany… even taking me out. Sometimes I'm scared, like maybe you feel your time is short or that you're facing something alone. I won't force you to tell me, but you should know I'm here for you."
Francisco paused, staring at the moon, then asked the servants to move a little further away. He looked at her earnestly."Okay… let me tell you the truth. I trust you, and I hope you won't think I'm crazy. Since waking from my dream, I've been having visions—fragments of another world. A world of the future. In it, I saw the independence of South America from Spain… and more. I even saw when it would happen."
Catalina gasped."Independence?"
"Yes. According to those histories, it happens in twenty years—or maybe sooner, considering the changes I'm making now," he said thoughtfully.
"You mean the spy you saved?" she asked, incredulous.
"Exactly. If I hadn't had those memories, I wouldn't have gone to the inn with my sister. I never would have met Oscar. He might have put the letter in someone else's pocket, or it could have been lost… or he could have died in the streets. Of course, it's also possible that this really happened but never made it into history books. That possibility scares me the most, because I never saw my name—or my family's—in those histories. If what I'm doing now really happened, but left no mark… it means I either die before leaving one, or worse. That's why the distillery is so important. It's not just about money—some objects weren't supposed to exist until 1803. If my blacksmiths can make them now, I'm already changing history. I wasn't supposed to have these memories." He smiled bitterly.
Catalina's eyes widened in understanding."So that's why you're making these changes… You're worried that in twenty years, your family could be targeted by the independence movement?"
"That's right. Even though my father is loyal to the crown, I'm not. At least for now, my goal isn't rebellion. I just want to make the family strong enough that no one can hurt us. Whether I rebel in the future or not, that's for later. I tell you this because I feel the weight of this knowledge constantly, and I need you to help me carry it"
Catalina smiled softly."I know. And I'm glad you trust me enough to tell me."
Without thinking, she instinctively hugged him. Her grandmother had always said a hug could cheer someone up, and in that moment, Catalina made a vow to herself: she would support Francisco, no matter what.
After a few minutes, Francisco remembered the snacks. He gently pulled away."Thanks, I needed that. But don't forget our dinner. If we wait too long, it'll get cold."
He handed her a buttered arepa, then prepared his own and poured the hot aguapanela."Our Grandma María is amazing, isn't she?"
Catalina pouted playfully."She's my grandma, not ours."
"I mean… when we marry, she'll be ours," Francisco teased.
Catalina blushed and punched him lightly."Who's going to marry you?"
"I'll only marry you," he said, making a solemn vow.
"But Grandma María said that for your future and your children, it's better if we don't marry," Catalina said quietly.
"Didn't you hear me? In twenty years, there will be independence. I doubt the liberals will keep bloodline laws. And if they do, we'll rebel and remove them."
Catalina smiled, taking his words as a joke but feeling happy nonetheless. Then she asked, curiously,"Can I ask… what are your objectives? I understand you want to protect our family during the rebellion, but if that's the only reason, couldn't we just go somewhere else? Like the United States—I hear people there are free."
Francisco shook his head."From what I've seen, that's only free for white people. Mestizos and Spanish aren't treated equally. Sure, we could fake our deaths and hide in another town… even live a normal life. But I don't want to keep hiding our feelings for fear of the future. I want you to marry me openly. I want our children to grow up in a good world, where ethnicity doesn't decide their life. I want people to buy food without fear, and I want to replicate the world I saw in my visions. Maybe I won't live to see it, but I want to plant the seeds so our children and grandchildren can enjoy it."
Catalina's eyes sparkled, imagining that world. "Do you really think it's possible?"
"Of course. That world existed at least once. My goal is to make it happen sooner and better."
"Then I'll help you," Catalina said firmly.
"I know," Francisco said. "But first, you need to learn German. When you study with me, we'll learn together. And when we return, we'll start building that world here in New Granada."
He stood triumphantly, signaling toward the sky. Moonlight fell on him, almost like a saint from a legend, someone who could change the world with words.
Then suddenly… a terrifying roar, followed by a gunshot and screams…