Basil woke up and found himself lying on a soft big bed, with an unfamiliar woody scent filling his nostrils.
He opened his eyes and saw dark wooden furniture with intricate carvings. On the bedside table, a golden Orthodox cross reflected the soft light of the morning sun.
who I am?
Where am I?
As soon as the thought came to his mind, countless fragments of memories that did not belong to him exploded in his mind, and the intense pain made him groan.
He sat up suddenly from the bed, not caring that the smooth silk nightgown slipped from his shoulders, and rushed to a silver-rimmed mirror in the room.
In the mirror, there was a completely unfamiliar face.
Brown eyes, a high nose bridge, thin lips, and a head of thick dark brown curly hair that was disheveled, with the laziness of someone who had just woken up.
It was the face of a teenager, his bones still barely developed, probably no more than twelve or thirteen. Yet, within that childish face, there was a stagnant calmness that didn't belong to that age.
He raised his hand.
The person in the mirror also raised his hand.
He touched his face.
The person in the mirror is doing the same thing.
The cool touch from his fingertips told him clearly.
This is not a dream.
Basil... He chewed on the name that came to his mind. No, from now on, I am Basil.
He looked down at the silk robe on the boy in the mirror, then looked around the room, which was decorated with low-key luxury.
The soul is traveling through time.
And judging from his appearance, his status is quite noble. Basil is very satisfied with his new identity.
"Boom, boom, boom!"
A dull knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.
"Come in." Basil said in a deep voice.
The heavy wooden door was silently pushed open by a servant, dressed in a simple but well-cut uniform. He bowed his head and made a gesture of invitation.
"Your Highness, today is your birthday. Breakfast is ready. Basilius and the co-emperor are waiting for you in the dining room."
Prince?
"Wait!" He called out to the attendant who was about to turn around and lead the way.
"What year, month, and day is it today?"
The attendant didn't hesitate at all, as if the question was perfectly normal. He bowed respectfully and replied, "Your Highness, today is November 11, 1560, the year of the Lord's birth. You have been in this world for twelve years."
1560.
Basil's mind was racing.
In 1453, Constantinople fell and the Byzantine Empire fell. Now it is 1560, more than a hundred years have passed.
At this point in time, which country in Europe dares to call itself a "prince"?
Holy Roman Empire? The Habsburgs were Catholics, which doesn't match the Orthodox cross in this room.
The Moscow Principality that just declared itself the Tsar? They are a branch of the Eastern Orthodox Church, but the decoration style of this room is pure late Greek Roman style, which is completely different from the aesthetic of the Slavs.
Full of doubts, he followed the servant out of the room and into a long corridor.
On the walls on both sides of the corridor hung huge tapestries, embroidered with gold thread were portraits of successive emperors,from Constantine the Great to Justinian, and then to Basil II...
But at the end of the team, he saw several unfamiliar portraits of emperors. They had majestic faces and wore purple robes, but Basil was sure that these people did not exist in history books.
He looked past the portraits to the end of the corridor.
There, a huge banner hangs from a ceiling carved with icons.
On the purple flag, a double-headed eagle looks down upon the world with its wings spread out, symbolizing the domination of the East and the West.
It's the eagle flag of the Palaiologos dynasty!
Basil's feet were instantly nailed to the spot, and his blood seemed to freeze at this moment.
In 1560, the purple double-headed eagle flag was still flying?
What the hell... is going on?
city? Did Constantine XI succeed in defending the
The servant noticed his pause, but did not dare to urge him. He just lowered his head even deeper and waited quietly by the side.
Basil suppressed the turmoil in his heart, his chest heaving violently a few times before he started walking again towards the restaurant.
The moment he pushed open the wooden door of the restaurant, two extremely important gazes fell on him at the same time.
At the head of the long table sat a man in his sixties. Though his hair was gray, he was vigorous, his back straight, and his presence imbued him with a commanding presence. Time had carved wrinkles into his face, but it hadn't dulled the sharpness in his eyes. Upon catching sight of Basil, a gentle smile crept across his dignified face, and he even stood up.
"My grandson, congratulations, you are twelve years old."
Beside him, a middle-aged man also stood up. He had a calm face and facial features that bore a resemblance to Basil. He was none other than this body's father, Alexios.
"Happy birthday, Basil." His voice was deep and powerful, but his emotion was flat, as if he was just completing a routine task.
"Thank you, grandfather. Thank you, father."
Basil imitated what he remembered and performed a court salute.
After we sat down, the waiter brought us breakfast quietly.
Golden corn porridge, served in a silver bowl, exudes the unique sweet aroma of the New World. Next to it is toasted bread, a small piece of melted butter and some pickled olives.
Simple, yet discordant everywhere.
corn!
This is a crop unique to America!
Corn from America appeared on the tables of the Roman royal family.
This discovery was even more shocking than the double-headed eagle flag. The flag could be fake, the figment of some madman's imagination, but a crop that had transformed the world's food supply couldn't be faked!
Basil ate his meal without savoring it. He mechanically scooped the cornmeal from his bowl with his silver spoon, his mind filled with the purple eagle flag and the bowl of golden corn. These two things, separated by the Atlantic Ocean and over a hundred years, strangely appeared before him simultaneously.
After the meal, Basil rushed to the library of the palace. He needed an answer, an answer that could explain all this!
The royal library was far grander than he had imagined. It wasn't a "room" at all, but a palace. Massive bookshelves reached the ceiling, filled with countless parchments and paper books, each organized into its own category. The air was thick with the scent of ancient paper and ink.
This place was truly a temple of knowledge! Basil even saw several books from the Greek classical period that were said to have been lost when the Ottomans burned Constantinople. They lay quietly on the bookshelf, waiting to be read.
But he couldn't care less about that now.
Basil went straight to the historical area.
Like a hungry wolf, he greedily flipped through the history books written in elegant Greek, especially the records of the last hundred years.
Finally, he found the answer he wanted in a thick book.
The pages of the book, written in gorgeous fonts, recorded a piece of history that left him dumbfounded.
In 1444, the year of the Lord's birth, the last emperor Constantine XI did not sit in despair and wait for destruction as in the history of the old world.
He received divine revelation.
The oracle told him that the destiny of Rome was not in the Old World, but in the far west, where the sun sets, there was a promised land reserved by the gods for the Romans Elysium.
So the great emperor made a crazy and decisive decision.
He abandoned Constantinople and the only remaining shattered territory in Europe. Не secretly gathered the last group of Greek nobles, scholars, craftsmen and soldiers loyal to Rome, took away all the classical literature he could take away, and - the secret recipe of Greek fire.
A huge fleet, under the guidance of God, set sail from the Golden Horn, sailed tragically across the Sea of Marmara, passed through the Strait of Gibraltar the pass called the "Gate of Hercules" by the Greek ancestors, and rushedinto the vast Atlantic Ocean without hesitation.
They headed west, westward, and finally they landed on the east coast of America.
The first city was named "Elysia".
New Rome was born.
When the Romans first arrived in the New World, their population was pitifully small, but they brought with them technology, organizational skills, and classical culture that were far ahead of the indigenous tribes of the land.
Under the diligent rule of the founding emperor Constantine XI, his successor Isaac III, and Justinian III, the Romans gained a firm foothold in this land.
They used advanced farming techniques and invincible gunpowder weapons to gradually expand their sphere of influence from the initial coastal corner to the Mississippi River.
The ancient Eastern Orthodox Church also merged with the indigenous culture of this new continent, evolving into the unique "Elysian Orthodoxy." The church actively preached to the indigenous tribes, integrating them into Roman culture and governance. These assimilated natives became known as "naturalized peoples."
The naturalized citizens provided the empire with a steady supply of population and manpower, solving the Romans' biggest shortcoming.
Seeing this, the scroll in Basil's hand fell to the ground with a "snap".
He was trembling all over, not because of fear, but because of extreme excitement.
I see!
He did not travel to a dying royal family in Europe, but came to a Roman Empire that was reborn and flourishing on the American continent!
This is a Rome with great national strength, powerful soldiers and horses, and the resources of an entire continent!
His grandfather is the current Roman Emperor, Constantine XII.
His father, Alexios, was co-emperor of the empire.
And he, Basil Palaiologos, was born in the Purple Chamber and was a legitimate prince!
After a century of hard work and perseverance, Rome is no longer a dying candle in the wind and rain. It is now a dormant lion, licking its wounds and accumulating strength!
Basil's chest heaved violently, and an unprecedented sense of ambition and passion surged to his head.
Homecoming!
Greece, Asia Minor, Constantinople, that land will always be the homeland of the Romans!
Greece, Asia Minor, Constantinople, that land will always be the homeland of the Romans!
We are not exiled, we are just strategically transferred!
The Romans will return like lightning!
"Θά'ρθεις σαναστραπή,
θά'χειηχώραγιορτή..." (You will return like lightning, and the whole country will feast...)
He almost subconsciously hummed the Greek song that had made his blood boil in his previous life, "You Will Return Like Lightning".
The passionate melody seemed to be tailor-made for his mood at the moment.
"θάλασσαγηκαιουρανός, στοδικόσουφως..."
(Sea, land and sky, in your light...)
This is more than just a song, it's a vow!
A vow from a soul from another world to become one with the newborn Roman Empire!
"Bang, bang!"
The door of the library was knocked again, interrupting Basil's excitement.
"Your Highness," the servant's voice came from outside the door, "His Majesty the Emperor invites you."
Basil calmed down and opened the door.
This time, he was no longer lost or confused. His steps were firm and powerful, and every step seemed to be stepping on the pulse of history.
He was taken to a side hall in the palace,
which was more like a private meeting room.
His grandfather, Constantine XII, stood with his back to him, in front of a large map.
It was a map encompassing the entire east coast of America, Europe, and the Mediterranean. On the New World map, a purple double-headed eagle flag covered a large area of the east coast, while on the other side of the Old World, a city was marked by a glaring red circle.
Constantinople.
"Basil," the old emperor said without turning around, his voice as steady as a mountain, "you are twelve years old. According to the tradition of the Palaiologos family, you will have your own mentor and begin to learn how to become a true Roman and an heir to the empire."
He turned slowly, his hawk-like eyes fixed on Basil.
"Your father, Alexios, is more composed than adventurous. He can protect this hard-earned family fortune, but the glory of reclaiming our homeland cannot be pinned on him."
"Today, I'm giving you a birthday present." Constantine XII pointed to the city marked with a red circle on the map.
Constantinople.
"From tomorrow on, your mentor will be the Empire's Minister of War, General Andronicus. He will teach you the art of war, war history, how to command legions, and how to wield Greek fire."
The old emperor walked up to Basil, his tall figure almost completely covering him. He placed a large, calloused hand firmly on Basil's shoulder.
"My child, remember. We are Romans, descendants of Caesar and Augustus. Elysium is the place of our birth, but Constantinople is the eternal home of our souls."
"Before you reach adulthood, I need you to be thoroughly versed in military texts and familiar with all the history of war since Alexander. Your battlefield will not be playing in the mud with the natives in the jungles of Elysium, but on the waves of the Mediterranean and the hills of Asia Minor!"
Do you understand?
Basil's blood was boiling at this moment.
He suddenly knelt on one knee, clenched his right fist, and pounded it hard on his chest. Using all his strength, he roared out the first oath he had made since coming into this world.
"Return home in your lifetime! Return to Constantinople!"