REVIOUSLY.
[To his immense luck, the dialect of this virgin island shared the same linguistic root; only a few words altered their musical intonation, and certain connectors were lost in the brevity of the phrases... The bridge of communication remained intact.
He closed his leather notebook, feeling the weight of the accumulated knowledge in his hands. He looked toward the bay, where the intertwined flags of Suaza, Spain, Portugal, and England fluttered together beneath the Asian sun.
The entire world was opening before them, word by word, and he held the golden key in his hands, at least for this territory.]
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Two days later.
Year 12 of the SuaChie Calendar, Eighth Month (October 1494).
United Town (San Jose, Dinagat Island, Philippines), United Island, Mai Archipelago.
The rhythmic whisper of the Sunset Ocean filtered through the cracks in the wooden floor, a constant echo that served as a reminder of both the fragility and the audacity of their enterprise.
Two days had passed since that conversation with the young hunter, and Tyfo still found himself marveling at the structure sheltering him in United Town.
It was a singular building, raised upon an intricate network of thick posts driven forcefully into the sand and coastal mud; a design conceived exclusively to outsmart the sudden and capricious tides of the eastern sea.
At first, when he saw the early sketches strewn across the naval engineers' planning tables, Tyfo had frowned, convinced that such dwellings would be precarious, damp, and insufferably uncomfortable.
He was wrong.
The air circulated with an enviable freshness beneath the rooms, sweeping away the stifling tropical heat, and the planks fit together with a millimeter precision that muffled the impact of the wind's gusts.
However, what truly ignited a spark of devotion in the young officer's chest was not the architecture itself, but the cargo that the bellies of the imposing Tequendama vessels had transported across thousands of nautical leagues.
Down in the holds, wrapped in greased canvas, rested hundreds of logs hardened through an intricate process of thermal and chemical curing. Chuta, the young Leader of the Kingdom, had foreseen everything long before the joint expedition had even glimpsed the shores of this archipelago.
Without ever having set foot on these lands, the "Son of Heaven" had anticipated the corrosive humidity of East Asia and the onslaught of marine woodborers. To Tyfo, such clairvoyance far surpassed the boundaries of military genius and stepped firmly into the realm of the divine.
A silent and profound reverence for the figure of his leader settled into his thoughts.
A sharp knock on the woven cane door interrupted his reflections. Tyfo straightened his posture, smoothing the creases of his official uniform. There was no room for distractions; duty called him to the main hall of that great stilted house, the space General Umzye had claimed as his provisional command center.
The murmur of conversations among the lower-ranking officers echoed through the outer corridors. Rumors spread as fast as the monsoon wind: the main expedition would weigh anchor very soon.
The original plan envisioned an equitable distribution of forces and colonists across the new settlements, but the winds of strategy had changed course. Tyfo had learned, through confidences whispered by the light of the night fires, that the scales had tipped drastically.
The vast majority of the Suaza retinue would not continue the journey toward the continental kingdoms; they would remain there, in the heart of the archipelago, consolidating the foundations of Discovery Town—the kingdom's exclusive settlement—and of United Town, where coexistence with the contingents from Spain, Portugal, and England would put New World diplomacy to the test.
Tyfo took a deep breath and crossed the threshold.
General Umzye stood before a solid table of local wood, examining a series of coastal maps hastily drawn by the cartographers. The light of the setting sun entered diagonally through the wide window, silhouetting his imposing figure. Despite the wear of a three-month oceanic crossing, the general exuded a stony authority, intact and severe.
"Officer Tyfo," Umzye pronounced without looking up from the parchments, though his deep voice instantly filled the room. "Step forward."
"General!" Tyfo executed the military salute with impeccable firmness, taking a step forward. The creak of the wood beneath his boots seemed unusually loud in the silence of the office.
Umzye straightened slowly, clasping his hands behind his back as he fixed his piercing eyes on the young man.
"Your written report regarding the local natives has been detailed, but I wish to hear your own conclusions, without the filter of ink. Tell me what you discovered in that strange tongue."
Tyfo cleared his throat, feeling the weight of the linguistic responsibility resting on his shoulders.
"Sir, just as I stipulated, fortune walks with us. The dialect of the inhabitants of this island strip shares an unmistakable root with the patterns our vocabulary previously analyzed for the region. The musicality of their phrases and the basic grammatical structure allowed us to establish a bridge of mutual understanding within a few hours. However..." Tyfo paused briefly, weighing his words, "my subsequent exchanges with the village elders suggest a complication. There are clear indications that the larger islands, those extending to the north and west, employ different dialects. Drastic variations in intonation and entirely foreign vocabulary. The bridge holds here, General, but we might encounter more formidable barriers as we push deeper into the archipelago."
Umzye nodded slowly, processing the information with the deliberate pacing of a veteran strategist. His fingers drummed softly against the edge of the table.
"A foreseeable obstacle. No sea is entirely tame, and no culture surrenders itself without demanding effort," the general declared, taking a short stroll toward the window overlooking the bay. "Tyfo... I assume your ears have not been closed to the movements in the camp. You already know the fleet is preparing to depart."
"Yes, my General. I am aware of the ships' imminent departure," Tyfo replied, keeping his eyes forward, maintaining the firmness in his tone despite the uncertainty the expedition's immediate fate provoked in him.
Umzye turned sharply, looking at him with renewed intensity.
"Circumstances demand flexibility from us, Officer. We are strictly adhering to Plan B, designed by Leader Chuta for this quadrant of the map. The European powers are displaying a growing ambition, and we cannot allow United Town to be an empty promise, but our absolute priority must be our own sovereignty on this soil. Therefore, the majority of our people will put down roots here. And I need someone of absolute trust and proven acumen to guide the main settlement... I want you to assume direct command of Discovery Town."
The words struck Tyfo like a sudden wave of icy water. His eyes widened in genuine surprise and, for an instant, military protocol faltered beneath the weight of his disbelief.
"Me... Sir? With all due respect, Discovery Town is the nucleus of our exclusive presence in these lands. I possess neither the administrative nor the military rank for a responsibility of such magnitude. I am merely a liaison officer, a linguist..."
A subtle smile, almost imperceptible yet laden with a strange paternal warmth and professional pride, appeared on the lips of the weathered general. Umzye raised a hand to interrupt the young man's objections.
"Rank is a garment tailored by one's deeds, Tyfo. I have observed your performance since we set sail from Sunset Edge City. Your composure during the storms of the Sunset Ocean, your ability to keep a cool head when fear gripped the others, and above all, the mastery with which you opened the doors of communication with the locals without spilling a single drop of blood... Those are the merits the kingdom needs. I am not improvising. Under the authority that Leader Chuta and the council have conferred upon me for this expedition, I decree your immediate promotion. From this moment forth, you hold the rank of Captain of the Suaza Kingdom."
Tyfo felt the air catch in his lungs. The appointment was as sudden as it was definitive. The weight of the imaginary insignia seemed to press down on his shoulders, but Umzye's determination brokered no argument. He swallowed hard, assimilating the impact of his new reality, and bowed his head in a reverence overflowing with gratitude.
"I will not betray your trust, General Umzye. I accept the command and the grace of this appointment. I will walk by the rules of the kingdom."
"I know you will, Captain Tyfo," Umzye nodded, immediately recovering his severe countenance. "You will not be alone in this task. A considerable fraction of our finest warriors, veteran men from the Blue and Explorer divisions, will remain under your command to oversee the defensive perimeter of both towns. Furthermore, tomorrow we will disembark the corps of civil engineers, agronomists, and specialized artisans. Chuta's cured logs will be the foundation of your walls and your shipyards. The growth of Discovery Town must be relentless."
The general walked back to the table, rested the palms of his hands on the maps of Cipango, and fixed one last, intense, and challenging gaze upon the newly promoted captain.
"Listen to me well, Tyfo. When the second expedition of the Suaza Kingdom crosses the Sunset Ocean and its sails break the horizon of this archipelago... I do not wish to be greeted by a captain who can barely hold the reins of a wooden town. I expect that by then your shoulders will bear the insignia of a Major, and that Discovery Town will be the impregnable beacon of our light in the East. Is that clear?"
"More than clear, my General!" Tyfo exclaimed, his heart beating at a frantic pace, but with his mind focused on the colossal chessboard opening before him.
Umzye nodded with a curt gesture, bringing the audience to an end. Tyfo did an about-face and walked toward the exit.
Upon crossing the threshold and feeling the salty breeze of United Town strike his face once more, he knew that the young officer who had closed his notebook hours ago had been left behind in the past.
The destiny of the archipelago and the honor of Chuta's divine knowledge now rested, in large part, in his own hands.
One month later.
Year 12 of the SuaChie Calendar, Nineth Month (November 1494).
Discovery Town (Surigao, Philippines), Mai Archipelago.
The rhythmic clatter of chisels and the constant hum of wooden lathes dominated the morning in Discovery Town.
Exactly a month had passed since the sails of the great joint fleet had vanished into the northeastern horizon, and Tyfo, now proudly wearing the reinforced tunic that denoted his rank of Captain, walked along the packed-earth paths with the watchful gaze of a true leader.
The settlement was no longer a mere advance camp; it had transformed into an industrial heart beating in the midst of the untamed island jungle.
Tyfo paused for a moment by the windward palisade and rubbed his eyes, feeling the weight of the salty air on his face. He looked out toward the open ocean, silently wondering at what point on the map General Umzye might be found at that very instant.
Could they have already reached the shores of Cipango? What kind of palaces and dialects might they have encountered? he thought, feeling a twinge of patrician nostalgia. His mind drifted to Zote, his brilliant young second-in-command in the linguistic division.
It had pained him to let him leave with the main fleet, but it was the logical decision: Zote carried the vital mission of deciphering the language of the mythical eastern kingdom and compiling every word for the great archive of the Suaza Kingdom upon their return.
Here, in the vast Mai Archipelago, the linguistic endeavor had been reduced to a skeleton crew: a mere three specialists to sustain a new world.
Tyfo had assigned one permanent translator to Discovery Town and another to United Town, while he himself acted as the mobile bridge, marching constantly between both colonies along the coastal routes the Mamanwa had shown them.
Although his direct responsibility was Discovery Town, Tyfo refused to turn his back on the mixed settlement. The mathematics of their survival were unforgiving: between both villages, they barely numbered a hundred and thirty souls left behind by the expedition.
Discovery Town was the strong core, housing eighty citizens, all from the Suaza Kingdom. In contrast, United Town was a more fragile demographic experiment, inhabited by a mere fifty people: twenty Suaza warriors and colonists under the command of a fellow officer, and thirty Europeans representing Spain, Portugal, and England.
Tyfo perfectly remembered the fear in the eyes of the sailors from the Old Continent before the ships set sail. The European captains, distrustful of safety in a savage, pagan land, had hesitated to leave large garrisons, nor was there an abundance of volunteers willing to risk their lives far from their kings.
Because of this, Tyfo insisted that both settlements operate as one in trade and defense; if one fell, it would not be long before the other was devoured by the jungle or some hostile sultanate.
A gust of wind brought with it the scent of burnt wood and resin, pulling Tyfo from his reverie. He turned toward the row of main buildings. The foresight of the young Leader Chuta still seemed like a miracle to him.
Using the logs hardened with the 'chemical' and thermal treatments that had been loaded into the bellies of the Tequendama ships, the Suaza artisans had erected robust dwellings, founded upon deeply moored beams.
The Mamanwa elders from the south had warned them of the seasonal storms that tore the skies apart and uprooted trees across the archipelago; Tyfo, trusting in his team, could assure that Discovery Town would not yield to any typhoon.
He continued his march until he entered the artisanal sector, the true pride of his administration in that first month. The heat there was intense, a blend of the tropical sun and the blazing furnaces.
"Captain Tyfo!" greeted Master Rakan, a veteran Suaza naval engineer, his hands stained with pitch and sawdust. He was standing beside an improvised dry dock on the town's beach.
"Master Rakan. How is the local wood responding to our tools?" Tyfo asked, stepping closer to examine the hull of a vessel under construction.
"It is fascinating, sir," the artisan replied, affectionately patting the side of a long outrigger ship. "The natives have an unbeatable design for cutting through these treacherous waves, so we copied the lines of their great canoes. But the magic lies in the joinery: instead of simple lashings, we are applying the pressure-assembly techniques of the Suaza Kingdom. At the same time, on the main slipway, we have already laid the keels for two of our own style of heavy cargo boats. If the neighboring tribes wish to trade, they will need our cargo space."
Tyfo nodded with a smile of approval. That shipyard was the key to mastering the local waters and expanding their commercial influence with the nearby kingdoms the Mamanwa spoke of so often.
Leaving the coastline behind, Tyfo walked toward the mechanical and foundry workshops.
The metallic screech of a manual lathe indicated they were in full production. There, the blacksmiths guarded the few but invaluable pure steel tools brought from the Suaza continent as if they were gold.
With them, they had manufactured lathes and dies to work local materials: they smelted bronze, forged nails and iron pieces, and carved hard stone pulleys with a precision that left the natives who visited the town wide-eyed.
All around him, other minor workshops bustled with civil activity.
A group of weavers crafted extensive fishing nets from local flax and hemp fibers, while a communal kiln fired hundreds of clay pots and vessels that served both for the town's storage and for the first bartering transactions with local families.
However, when the sun reached its zenith and the bronze bell announced the midday rest, the illusion of prosperity crashed against a harsh sensory reality.
Tyfo made his way to the communal dining hall, a vast structure roofed with woven palm fronds. He sat at the command table, and a cook placed his daily ration before him. There was no European wheat bread, nor the customary Suaza-style preserved meats, nor hardtack.
Instead, the bowl steamed with a thick stew of white taro and yam roots, floating in coconut milk infused with wild ginger, accompanied by a generous portion of reef fish roasted on banana leaves.
The scent was pungent, sweet and earthy all at once; Tyfo's palate, accustomed to the spices and textures of his homeland, rebelled for a second before he forced himself to chew.
"It's a bit bland today, don't you think, Captain?" commented Officer Vala, taking a seat beside him and skewering a sandy mass of tubers with his knife.
"It is nutritious, Vala. And our stomachs had better get used to it quickly," Tyfo replied with serenity and pragmatism, taking a sip of the hot broth. "I took inventory of the cellars at dawn. The continental supplies left to us, both our own and the European rations in United Town, are practically depleted. What remains has been strictly reserved for emergencies or medical use."
Vala let out a heavy sigh, staring at his plate.
"Half a year, Tyfo. At least six full months before Leader Chuta's second expedition crosses the Sunset and reaches the archipelago with corn, wheat, cured meat, and wine."
"Six months in which we shall be children of these islands," Tyfo declared, cutting a piece of white fish with determination. "The Mamanwa are strong and swift on this diet. If we want Discovery Town to be the booming port that General Umzye expects to find upon his return, we cannot afford the luxury of yearning for the kitchens of home. Eat, Officer. And this afternoon, prepare yourself; we will march to United Town. I want to ensure the Europeans are also learning to process this root flour before hunger drives them out of their minds."
Tyfo continued eating in silence, feeling the warmth of the food spread through his body. The challenge was monumental, the rations were strange, and the solitude in the middle of the immense ocean was overwhelming, but as he looked around and listened to the lively murmur of his people working, he knew they were building something indelible.
Three months later.
Year 12 of the SuaChie Calendar, Twelfth Month (February 1495).
Discovery Town (Surigao, Philippines), Mai Archipelago.
Time, that silent sculptor, had chiseled a new order into the geography of the island. Four months after the departure of the great fleet, Discovery Town had become a vibrant enclave, a living organism pulsating beneath the sun of the Mai Archipelago.
Tyfo walked the main street, watching how the Suaza colonists moved with the cadence of those who no longer expect to return, but to remain in these lands.
The supplies they were accustomed to were scarce, yes, but adaptation had become instinct. The most surprising thing, however, was not the typhoon-resistant architecture, but the social fabric that had begun to weave itself into the land.
"Captain, the captain of the guard reports that the Mamanwa have once again brought canoes with a surplus of tubers," Kusi commented, walking by his side.
Tyfo nodded, looking toward the beach, where the ties with the natives were no longer just of linguistic convenience, but of neighborliness. There was a subtle migration; small local families had settled on the outskirts of Discovery Town, integrating into daily life. But this integration had brought with it a tide of unexpected tensions.
The officer paused as he saw a group of European colonists laughing uproariously alongside two local women. Tyfo's gaze darkened.
"Tell them to exercise caution," Tyfo murmured to Kusi, lowering his voice. "The Europeans have taken the offers of courtship with a flippancy that borders on recklessness."
"They do not understand the fabric of these people," Kusi replied, narrowing his eyes. "They think it is a simple transaction. They do not see the threads the locals are trying to weave for the long term."
Tyfo nodded, troubled. The Suaza Kingdom had ordered caution, and he exercised it with rigor.
The "offer" of women as a bargaining chip or a seal of alliance was a common practice among the natives, but the captain knew that every interaction carried a hidden price. And his prudence was not the product of chance; it had been born two months ago, when the map of his known world was shattered to pieces.
The memory of that expedition to the southwest still provoked a reverential chill in him.
Sixty days ago, he himself had led a group of elite warriors deep into unknown lands. They expected to find scattered tribes, primitive hunters, or, at most, fishing villages. But what they found left them speechless on the banks of a great river: the Rajahnate of Butuan.
Tyfo closed his eyes for an instant, visualizing the scene once again.
It was not a village; it was a capital. A vibrant center of power where hundreds of Barangay—the immense vessels that gave their communities their name—converged in a bustling port. They had been received not by savages, but by the emissaries of a Rajah who, although not considered an absolute monarch, wielded an authority that united an entire nation.
We had come as explorers to "virgin" lands, Tyfo thought with a touch of ironic bitterness, when in reality we were stepping onto the thresholds of an ancient trade network.
The Rajahnate of Butuan was a revelation. Their goldsmiths worked gold with a delicacy that would put many master jewelers on the continent to shame. They possessed a political and bureaucratic structure that suggested centuries of stability. And most shockingly: they were not isolated. There was irrefutable evidence of a constant maritime trade with the great dynasties of the Asian continent and with Cipango itself.
"They were advanced, Kusi," Tyfo said aloud, breaking the silence between them as they walked. "More so than us in terms of shallow-water navigation. They had routes, they had markets, they had history. We almost made the mistake of treating them as if we had been the first to discover these waters."
"That is the reason for caution regarding courtship alliances," Kusi replied. "We are not the lords of these islands; we are merely a small settlement on the periphery of an invisible empire."
Tyfo looked toward the southwestern horizon. Discovery Town was an engineering success, yes, but its true importance was tactical. They were settled near a power they were only just beginning to understand.
Every fishing net, every naval workshop, every word they managed to exchange with the Mamanwa and the ambassadors of Butuan, was a piece on a chessboard infinitely larger than Columbus or the European captains had ever imagined.
"If General Umzye returns expecting a small colony," Tyfo declared, adjusting his belt, "he is in for a surprise. We are not founding a town; we are trying to survive in the backyard of a kingdom that knows the world better than we do."
The captain sighed, feeling the heavy weight of his responsibility.
.
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[A/N: CHAPTER COMPLETED
Hello everyone.
Thank you all for your support.
First, I want to mention that it's been somewhat difficult to find information about the kingdoms and their characteristics during this period. While there are some records, they are far fewer in number, at least those in English or Spanish.
I suppose if I searched in Chinese, there might be some, but I don't have time to learn it, haha.
Second, it's incredible to find kingdoms like Butuan, which were unknown to me, and to discover that they had such a rich culture.
FINALLY: I'm asking again if you were able to see the maps in the side chapter.
---
Read my other novels.
#The Walking Dead: Vision of the Future (Chapter 91) (ON HOLD)
#The Walking Dead: Emily's Metamorphosis (Chapter 34) (ON HOLD)
#The Walking Dead: Patient 0 - Lyra File (Chapter 14) (ON HOLD)
You can find them on my profile.]