A/N:
I apologize for the long delay! School is really taking a toll on my writing time, especially with finals looming on the horizon. Best of wishes to all you diligent folks out there who are likewise embroiled (or soon-to-be embroiled) in exams. Good luck, and hang in there!
Also: this has been a long time coming. But in light of the date (happy Thanksgiving to all my fellow Americans!), I'd like to dash off a big thank you to everyone who's reviewed/faved/followed/lurked. Not to be hideously corny, but you guys make my heart sing. Please allow me to shower you with hymns of gratitude. :)
—:—
Part 1
ROME
How Four Empires Kept In Touch
—:—
There were definite perks to this Pax Romana thing.
Now that they were at peace, Parthia was much more amiable about trading nice things with Rome, and much less likely to shoot his face off with arrows. Not to say that they still didn't have their occasional disagreement—for one, Parthia's dad was still kind of a jerk, which Rome made a point to mention every so often. (This led to a majority of their fights.) For another, Parthia still twitched whenever Rome so much as glanced at Armenia. Which, to be honest, Rome found grossly unfair. Could anyone really blame him for looking, with Armenia looking like that? That woman was fine.
"Debauchery," said Seneca the Younger, who seemed to have developed a preternatural sense of when Rome's thoughts strayed toward the gutter.
Rome smiled at him in an absent-minded sort of way. "Love," he corrected.
Seneca raised his chin and made a sniffy noise. "Completely inappropriate conduct. Utterly indecent. Shoddy workmanship—"
Wait, what?
"Shoddy workmanship?"
Instead of answering, Seneca pointed at the assorted goods bundled in Rome's arms. Oh.
"But I made these myself," Rome said, affecting a wounded expression. "And how is silk indecent?"
Seneca turned faintly pink. "It's transparent."
"I know," Rome said, brightening. "Isn't it great? China's brilliance knows no bounds! But anyway, it's not for me. It's for my friends."
"What kind of friend—"
"Good afternoon," said the Parthian Empire. Seneca jumped and immediately pretended he hadn't. Rome jumped and didn't bother to do the same.
"You're early," Rome noted cheerfully.
"Wouldn't dream of being late. I do so enjoy these meetings of ours," Parthia said, in a way that made it really difficult to tell if he was being serious or not. He peered at Seneca. "Your emperor is a lot shorter than memory recalls."
"Oh, he's not my emperor," Rome said, over Seneca's sputtered protests. "My boss, uh…couldn't make it."
(The sad truth was that Rome's real leader was hiding away on an island somewhere. Emperor Tiberius had always been highly antisocial, when he wasn't busy being scary beyond all reason.)
To Rome's relief, Parthia seemed to take his lame explanation at face value. And, Parthia being Parthia, talk quickly turned to business. Seneca could be heard in the background grumbling about the evils of silk, but he was easily ignored.
The afternoon ended with a hearty exchange of goods—raw silk, fine leather, and spices from Parthia's side; glassware and silken products from Rome's. After soliciting many promises from Parthia that Yuezhi and China would receive everything as intended, the meeting finally concluded. Parthia bade Rome farewell, charged him a criminally large amount of money, and then headed back toward the other end of the Silk Road.
Rome waved slowly in departure, feeling vaguely like he'd been robbed.
Parthia's shipping fees were ridiculous.
"That man is a demon," he said later to an unimpressed Greece. "I need to find another way to get things to China. Before I lose all my worldly possessions. And die of poverty."
After a few minutes of silent appraisal, Greece shoved a map at him.
—:—
"You are out of control," said China.
The statement was directed at his swaggering companion, who had for some reason seen fit to bring along a fawning trail of servants. Yuezhi's entourage trailed after them like a human chain. Some scurried madly around Yuezhi's shadow, brandishing palm fronds and giant plumes of ostrich feathers. Others clapped and sang and flailed about in what appeared to be a weird tribal dance. Still others simply trotted along stoically, never pausing save to strike the occasional dramatic pose.
The entire spectacle managed to be embarrassing and creepy at the same time. China resisted the urge to hide his face.
"On the contrary," came Yuezhi's cheerful rebuttal. "This is the most control I've had in practically ever."
As if to demonstrate her point, she snapped her fingers, and the harried-looking servant at her side doubled the frequency of his palm-frond-waving. China's bangs began to flap up and down in the artificial breeze.
"Can you not," China said, swiping at his hair irritably. "I'm serious, Yuezhi—"
"Kushan," Yuezhi broke in. "Kushan Empire."
"Yes, whatever. The point is, India has been terribly kind and you're trampling all over his hospitality—"
"Woah there, who's trampling who? Look, India's my neighbor, yeah? He likes this stuff."
China found this very hard to believe, and said as much.
The argument escalated from there.
So it was that India arrived to the (familiar) scene of China and Yuezhi bickering like no tomorrow, while numerous servants flitted about in nervous orbit.
"How," China demanded to India in lieu of greeting, "do you put up with her?"
India blinked at him before bowing slightly. "Greetings to you, too, China."
Oh, sky above, he was so polite. That someone like this had to live next to someone like her truly had to be the greatest injustice inflicted upon the mortal realm.
"Yo, India," said Yuezhi, stretching her arms and popping what sounded like half the bones in her body. "Tell this fungus scum how cool of a neighbor I am."
They both looked expectantly at India, whose smile grew bemused. "It's certainly no bother, China," he said evenly. "Miss Kushan's antics are rather cute, don't you think?"
Cute. Like she was some variety of small fuzzy animal and not a fully grown woman who should know better.
"Ha!" Yuezhi said. "Chew on that, fungus scum." India hid his chuckles behind the palm of a hand, as if Yuezhi had said something deeply witty and profound.
China refused to talk to either of them for the rest of the day.
—:—
Their stay in India's home continued to be punctuated by intervals of Yuezhi-fueled ridiculousness, and China was certain that the only reason India hadn't kicked them out yet was because that man had the patience of a thousand saints.
In contrast to China himself. Which didn't escape notice.
"You, sir, are grumpier than normal," Yuezhi said, poking China in the forehead. "Spill."
China rubbed at his brow half-heartedly. What was there to say? Tianming screwed up, China ended up with an incompetent on the throne, and now the entire country was dealing with the backlash. They'd lost the Tarim Basin. He'd had to relocate his capital. Xiongnu was causing more trouble than ever.
"Boss troubles," he ended up muttering.
"Ah." Yuezhi nodded sagely. "But you know, you've had the same boss for, what, a thousand years? Boss troubles are bound to happen sooner or later. It'll pass."
"I know," China complained, "but it's not just Tianming. Lately Koguryo's been stealing my things—the boy thinks it's funny, or something, I don't know. Saro and Baekje aren't doing anything to stop their brother, even though Saro is oldest, she really ought to know better—oh, and Nanyue is angry with me, again—keeps running off, talking about independence—and with all this political nonsense going on I never get the chance to visit Japan anymore, goodness knows how the boy is doing, I'm doing such a terrible job of looking after him—after all of them—"
"China. Breathe." He looked up to see Yuezhi staring at him. "Geez, you're like a crazy cat lady. Except you collect toddlers instead of cats. You need to calm down." Her gaze became thoughtful. "You could meditate, maybe? Me and India have this nifty thing called Buddhism, if you ever wanna try—"
"Thank you, but I'll pass." China wondered tiredly how Tianming is an idiot turned so quickly into I have failed all my brothers and sisters and everyone I have ever loved. There was probably something wrong with him.
Yuezhi was starting to study him with a shrewd expression, so he forcibly composed himself and fished around for a topic that was sure to divert her attention. "Well," he said. "Anyway. How have you been doing lately?"
Sure enough, her eyes lit up with a familiar shine of self-indulgent egotism, and she began to ramble. China, turning his attention back to their task at hand (setting up a market stall), listened and worked in silence.
As it turned out, their day was surprisingly productive. They'd actually managed to finish setting up the stall, for one. Previous attempts had ended with varying levels of disaster, like the time when Yuezhi tried to scale the booth like a monkey. Or that other time involving a broken shoe, a chamber pot, and an elephant.
"This is monumental," India said, later that evening. "My congratulations. Truly, we must celebrate." Coming from anyone else's mouth, the words would have sounded sarcastic—but no, India was being completely genuine. Which somehow made it worse.
Yuezhi was already making preparations. "We'll have meat," she mused. "Lots of meat. Chicken meat, and fish meat, and pig meat—"
"I thought India was vegetarian," China said blankly.
"I am," was India's mild response.
"—and lamb meat, and rabbit meat. It can be an all-out party. D'you think we can get everything ready for whenever those slowpokes arrive?"
At that, India tilted his head. "Forgive my curiosity but—you are expecting company?"
"Oh yeah," Yuezhi said, grin spreading. "Not to worry, just a couple of friends."
—:—
China could hear them long before they emerged into view. He drummed his fingers against the wood of the stall, and listened to the chatter with fond amusement; each voice was just so recognizable.
"We've sailed fair and far, o'er nigh-endless hills of water, past the fickle gale—and lo, the striking coastline lay unfurled, and that which beckons us to India has…"
Et cetera, et cetera. Lilting tones. Strange, flowery words. That was undoubtedly Rome.
"Rome, I'll have you know that this is the absolute last time I babysit you across the Erythraean Sea. Next time, figure it out yourself."
Languid, tired, matter-of-fact, feminine—ah, so Greece had come, too.
"Nonetheless. This is quite an expeditious route you've planned, Lady Greece. I am truly in your debt; one can only listen to Rome's prattle for so long."
Deceptively mild, with acerbic undertones. Parthia.
He and Yuezhi exchanged grins from behind their booth. China flicked his wrist at her in an unhurried 'go on' gesture, and Yuezhi's smile became delightedly crooked.
She cleared her throat. Rome was in the middle of a defensive, "No one asked you, Parthia, and if it bothers you so much, why didn't you just stay at home with daddy—"
"Well, well, well," Yuezhi interrupted loudly. She assumed a ridiculous, lofty voice, and China had to bite his lip to refrain from laughing. "What peasants I see, scrounging before the generosity of the mighty Kushan Empire, blessed be her name, godspeed amen amitabha, ommmm."
What the hell, China thought, and proceeded to rupture a spleen in his continued attempt not to laugh.
A pregnant pause.
Then three nations pushed their way through the crowded marketplace. Rome came charging—then tumbling—headfirst. Greece lunged forward to snatch at him, managing with difficulty to wrangle him away from the floor. Her efforts proved to be in vain; Parthia tripped over Rome's splayed legs and caused the entire party to come crashing down in a tangle of limbs.
China couldn't help it; he joined Yuezhi in helpless laughter.
"Hello there," he said, once he'd regained enough breath to properly communicate. "Fine silks from China! Bargain price."
—:—
It was the first time that all five had properly reunited since the misadventure in Egypt sixty years ago. Once Yuezhi had finished blowing kisses to Greece, and Rome had purchased China's entire stock of silk, the group packed their things and headed to less populated areas. Hours later found them at the lush base of an idyllic waterfall, where they caught up on six decades of lost time.
Greece pensively relayed anecdotes of her past few Olympic Games, which Yuezhi and China listened to in riveted fascination. Then, seizing the spotlight, Yuezhi waxed lyrical about her country's recent ascent to empire status. China, by contrast, described with annoyance the shortest dynasty in his history (courtesy of a certain myopic dragon). Parthia, in turn, grumbled about Rome's blatant overtures toward Armenia—to which Rome responded with a cheerful analogy between Parthia's father and a toad.
"He's got a father complex the size of Asia," Rome said to Yuezhi in a conspiratorial whisper. Both their faces turned gleeful when Parthia visibly twitched.
Greece looked up from her inspection of Rome's newly bought Chinese silk. "Come to think of it," she said, "does he even know you're here? Rome and I are not exactly on best terms with Persia…"
"Can we not," Parthia said, expression pained, "talk about my father right now?"
"Oh ho," Yuezhi said, sidling over to perch on the smooth rock next to Parthia. "How adorable, hmm? Defying Papa Persia just for an excuse to see us?" She cackled and slung an arm over Parthia's shoulder. "Guys, guys, I think he's going through the rebellious teenage phase!"
Parthia elbowed her into the water.
As a vicious water fight broke out in the background, Rome took the time to drape Chinese silks over himself in strange and inventive ways. He turned to China with wide eyes and clasped hands. He looked like a shimmering nun.
"China," he said, "I have not yet thanked you enough for your ingenious invention. Tell me, if it so pleases you—where is it that silk comes from?"
From the bodily excretions of insects undergoing puberty, China thought.
"Silk, uh, grows on trees," China said.
"I knew it," said Rome.
China was saved from having to elaborate further when India burst in on the scene.
"There you are," India said. Five pairs of startled eyes blinked at him. He smiled at their surprise. "I would not be so remiss in my duties as host to forget my guests, yes? Come now, join me for celebration. Let us feast!"
"India, my good sir," said Yuezhi, wringing water out of her hair, "you always know the absolute best things to say."
—:—
"We must do this more often," Rome said as he clambered back into the boat with Greece and Parthia.
China nodded solemnly and Yuezhi shot them a sunny smile.
"Sounds like a plan," she said. "Let's have a picnic, or go spelunking, or something."
"No picnics," Rome and Parthia said at the same time. Greece shot them a curious glance, while Yuezhi simply shrugged.
"Hmm, spelunking it is."
China folded his sleeves, looking uncertain. "Of course, that being said—we are all quite busy. And where would we even meet? India has been very hospitable, but I'd rather not burden him…"
Yuezhi put a hand to her chin in thought. "My place," she said. "Thirty years. Don't be late, or I'll kick your ass."
—:—
"I am so going to kick your ass," Yuezhi said to nobody, thirty years later.
And, alright. China? She could understand. Xiongnu had gotten all handsy on the Tarim Basin again, so China was busy fending off the pig. That was totally okay. Xiongnu was a slimeball. China was forgiven.
But where the heck were Parthia and Rome? Greece?
Yuezhi frowned at the sky.
Well. She'd heard whisperings—nothing substantial; rumors, really—of some sort of upheaval in the west. Of a tyrant, a war in Armenia, an uprising, a great fire, a new religion…
She ended up trudging over to India's house. During monsoon season. Because she was super smart, okay.
"I've been stood up," she said to India, aware that she resembled a half-drowned cat as she stood dripping in his doorway.
India quietly let her in to dry and fed her hot soup until she fell asleep, because India was top-notch best-friend material and she was basically indebted to him for the rest of eternity. She stayed until the weather calmed, and then returned home.
Shiny baubles and trinkets of gold and silver greeted her when she returned, and they were also awesome friends because money never stood anyone up, and she was rich now, so there.
She hugged them to herself.
They were quite cold.
—:—
Time passed, as it was wont to do.
"Well heey there," Yuezhi drawled. She managed to stare down her nose at Parthia, even though he was physically taller than her. "Long time no see. Whatever have you been up to? China and me, we've been having a grand old time, y'know, busting bad guys and kicking ass. Oh! Which reminds me—" She raised her leg in a vaguely threatening motion. "There's a promise I've been meaning to keep."
Parthia looked at her blearily. There were grayish arcs under his eyes, and a patch of dark hair was missing from his head. Yuezhi commanded herself not to feel pity.
"I'm sorry," Parthia said, and the world crumbled, because he never apologized, not to her.
Yuezhi lowered her foot.
"Rome and I had a fight," Parthia went on, sounding as if he'd rather not talk about it. "Over Armenia."
Armenia, again?
"A right Helen of Troy, this woman," Yuezhi deadpanned.
"It's not like that." Parthia gave her a significant look. "It's politics."
She stared at him for a while, before growling and turning away. "You and your damn realism."
This was all so stupid. She needed a drink.
"Tell China I said hello," he called tiredly after her as she stomped off.
—:—
The rest of the story came out the next time they met. If Parthia was to be believed, then pretty much all the rumors she'd been hearing were true. The mad tyrant Nero, and Britannia's rebellion, and Rome, who burned for six days and seven nights…
"Here," said Yuezhi, tossing a bag into Parthia's hands. A string of pearls. He looked at her quizzically, and Yuezhi shrugged. "China says hi to you, too."
He glanced back at the pearls, looking deeply moved. Yuezhi snorted.
"Didn't take you for the jewelry type," she said.
She was given a generous eye-roll. Ah, there it was—that Parthian sass she knew so well. "Do not mock me," Parthia said, and then: "Wait here."
Apparently Parthia had gone completely mental, because he returned with a herd of freaking gazelles and lions.
"Oh my gods," said Yuezhi from the top of a tree.
"Tell China I said hello," Parthia said with a smile.
—:—
Large-scale group reunions continued to elude them. It was disappointing, albeit unsurprising—as countries, they were hardly strangers to the concept of long-distance relationships. And yet they soldiered on with endless perseverance, ultimately managing to see each other in smaller, quieter ways.
Which mainly involved Yuezhi scrambling all over Eurasia while the rest of them sat on their butts and did nothing, the bastards.
…Oh, all right. Fine. They did some things. Like, China kicking Xiongnu out of the Tarim Basin once and for all, and then building a little pavilion there just for her where they could hang out—that was pretty sweet. China totally got bonus friendship points for that.
So when China and Parthia got into an argument over a misplaced diplomat (something about giving terrible directions), Yuezhi happily took China's side. Upon his request, she helped him deliver a multitude of scathing messages to the Parthian Empire's doorstep. The rude images graffitied onto his walls in donkey poo probably hadn't been strictly necessary, but Yuezhi always did like going above and beyond.
(And no, her traumatic experience with Parthia's lions had nothing to do with her unwarranted vitriol, don't be absurd.)
Rome found the entire thing hilarious when she relayed the story to him later.
"Moral of the story," she said to him while perched atop a sprawling wall. "Parthia sucks at giving directions. Always." She rolled over onto her back and gave Rome an upside-down stare. "What are you doing?"
"Building," came Rome's cheerful reply. He always seemed to be building something. Sometimes roads, sometimes art. Today, he appeared to be constructing a mindlessly long wall.
"Why?"
Rome swung up his hammer in enthusiasm, nearly braining a passing laborer. "Keeping out invaders, of course!"
"You're building a giant wall to keep out attackers?" Yuezhi gave him a pitying look. "China already tried that. It doesn't really work."
"Oh, little rose, but one never truly knows until he tries for himself. And I have faith in Emperor Hadrian!" His optimism was pretty adorable. Kind of like a puppy who couldn't walk straight and thus went tumbling around everywhere in pudgy somersaults.
"Rome!" A loud, angry voice shattered the air. Startled, Rome dropped his hammer. Equally startled, Yuezhi fell off the wall. "Roman Empire, you swine, what the devil do you think you're doing? Is that a—why, the audacity! The nerve! I do swear, in the name of all that is sacred, when I catch you—"
"And this," Yuezhi said, picking herself up with mock primness, "is where I take my leave." She clasped Rome briefly on the shoulder. "Good luck, old boy. I'm thinking you'll be needing it."
She managed to hightail it out of there just as a red-faced Britannia stormed out from over the hills.
—:—
A peaceful quiet had settled over China's house.
Currently, its three occupants could be found in the study, hard at work. China crouched in front of a low table with his arms around Japan, guiding the child's hands across smooth paper. Meanwhile, Parthia sat in the dusty corner, barricaded off by a small army of Buddhist scrolls; he examined the scriptures with with narrow-eyed intensity, occasionally scrawling down a phrase or two with a bamboo brush. The entire room was wrapped in a blissfully resonant silence, unbroken save for the occasional murmured line and the soft dabbing of ink over paper.
"Stroke to the left, then to the right—pie, na, yes, just like that, well done."
Japan did not exactly smile at the praise, but his rocklike demeanor softened by a fraction of a degree. (By his standards, it was practically maniacal laughter.) With a tiny nod, the boy dipped his brush back into the inkwell, and continued to copy the character over and over again with stoic diligence.
Once realizing that Japan did not know how to write, China had immediately taken it upon himself to ensure that the child became literate. "These are hanzi," China remembered telling him, with a proffered list of Chinese characters. "They're very handy; with these, you'll be able to write letters."
Japan had taken to the language like a duck to water. Now, as China watched his little brother paint the words to his name with precocious expertise, he couldn't help but smile. Something pleasant and warm expanded in his chest, something that felt like pride.
A sigh sounded from the corner, and Parthia set his brush down.
"I believe that is the last of the scriptures," he said, massaging his wrist. "For me, at least. The rest I'll leave to the good Marquess."
"Ah, yes," said China, gently extricating himself from Japan and rising to his feet. "The wonderful An Shigao and his helper—you all have done me a great service. Truly, I cannot thank you enough." He meant every word. Good translators were so hard to come by; one of these days he needed send Yuezhi a proper thank you gift as well.
Parthia smiled. "No need to thank me. Consider it an apology for that mess with your diplomat."
"My diplomat?" China said, incredulous. "Parthia, are you still worried about that? I'm hardly angry anymore."
"Really? I had thought you made your displeasure quite clear."
China snorted. "Half of the antics were Yuezhi's own doing. I would have thought you'd realized."
"Nonetheless." Parthia rolled up the last of the scrolls and turned, clearing his throat. "In any case, my misdirection must have caused your ambassador a great deal of trouble—Gan Ying was his name, yes? How does he fare these days?"
For a moment, China hesitated. "Well, that's kind of you to ask, but…he has long since passed." He gave Parthia a curious look. "It's been sixty years, after all."
Parthia blinked. "Sixty? A-ah. I see. I hadn't realized…"
China peered at him carefully.
Parthia had…stuttered.
Coming to a decision, China crouched down once more to give Japan a brief pat on the head. "Big brother is going to take a break with Uncle Parthia for a while. Will you be alright on your own?" Japan tilted his head up to face him with large, solemn eyes. He gave China another minute nod before refocusing on his paper with single-minded determination.
Permission granted, China led his guest outside for some much-welcomed fresh air. Once the door was securely shut behind them, China turned around, hands tucked neatly into his sleeves.
"Are you alright?" he asked bluntly.
"Perfectly," Parthia said, looking vaguely affronted. "I merely lost track of the time."
"Sixty years," China reminded him.
"Yes, I'm aware."
"Not a few minutes ago you weren't—"
"I'm fine," Parthia snapped, and then seemed to realize his mistake, because his expression immediately settled into a mien of calculated indifference.
China studied him. "You don't need to worry so much, you know. It's well into the past, and we all make mistakes. Anyway, it's really my fault for getting so worked up—"
"It wasn't a mistake."
China stopped short. "…Wasn't it?"
(Was it just him, or did Parthia's face seem a bit pale?)
"You must understand," Parthia said slowly, "that with Rome's knowledge of the oceanic passage to India, my country can hardly afford risking another possible route between two of our main clients. Certain measures had to be taken."
"So…you sabotage my men."
(Definitely pale.)
"As my country has so willed it."
Your country, China wondered, or you? But out loud: "Does Rome know about this?"
Parthia's expression soured. "Rome knows nothing," he said. "He is a fool who rests on ill-earned laurels, a fool who knows nothing, and I fully intend to—to—" He paused, looking oddly stricken.
"Parthia?"
"I…" Parthia took a step back, eyes darting to the side. "No, I…China, I thank you for your hospitality. My work here is done. I should be leaving."
A swish of robes, and then Parthia was hurrying away, walking so fast that he might have been half-running. China startled, but managed to recover in time to call after him.
"Parthia—my door is open if you ever need to talk!"
He received no reply.
—:—
Eventually, news reached China of the whatever-it-was that seemed to be going on between Parthia and Rome—but it was not from the mouth of Parthia himself. It did not even come from Yuezhi, who lived her entire life on a perpetual chain of gossip. Bizarrely enough, it came from Rome.
"There's a strange man at the door," Nanyue said flatly.
"Oh?" said China. "Let me see."
He opened the door and was promptly flattened.
"China, China! My friend, it's been much too long! Oh, but your house is even prettier than I had imagined! I want to see everything, your palaces and your silk trees and—oh, the little rose mentioned some kind of great wall? It would be a delight to go have a look for myself—aah, you must show me everything!"
Rome rambled through the entire spiel while smothering China in a suffocating hug. He punctuated each of his demands with a hearty slap on China's back, and China was vaguely surprised that his spine had not yet caved in from the force of Rome's enthusiasm. Nanyue, alarmed at Rome's disregard for China's personal space, procured a long paddle out of nowhere and began to methodically thwack Rome across the head with its wooden blade.
"The little one is formidable," Rome said later, after China had managed to calm everyone down. The two empires were now standing outside in the courtyard, while Nanyue remained inside—not that it stopped her from casting suspicious glares at Rome through the round window.
"Very," China agreed. He turned his head to give his sister a fond smile; Nanyue sent him a scowl in return. "So what brings you to my home? What have you been up to recently?"
Rome's carefree smile abruptly sobered. "Ah…well, this may sound odd, but have you seen Parthia lately?"
"A few years ago. Why?"
Eyes troubled, Rome began to talk.
And China listened.
—:—
Night at the palace. Most would be asleep at this hour, but China was restless; he turned Rome's words over and over again in his mind, like prayer beads thumbed around a Buddhist mantra.
Another war over Armenia. Parthian attack and Roman retaliation. A fierce bid for the throne. Ravaged cities. Sudden illness. A country in hiding.
("He wasn't in Ctesiphon when we took it," Rome had said. "Not even in his own capital. I don't know where else to look.")
He could hear it when Tianming landed beside him. The sigh of descending clouds. The click of dragon claws against cold stone.
"Times are changing," China said.
Tianming was silent.
"You know, of our group…Parthia is the youngest of us. It's easy to forget sometimes." China drew his fingers over a small object in his hand. Tianming followed with his eyes. "I think he's just realizing. How difficult it can be to figure yourself out." Then China blinked, as if coming out of a reverie. "Why are you here, Tianming?"
The dragon finally spoke, his voice a low rumble. "I think you already know."
"This isn't like last time, is it?"
"No." Solemn, blunt. There was no mischief in the dragon's eyes this time. No, this was nothing like Wang Mang's short-lived Xin Dynasty.
"Times are changing," China said again, passing the object from hand to hand. "Do you have anyone in mind?"
A dry chuckle. "You will know once I do."
"Yes," China said. "I suppose I always do, don't I?"
He held up the object to a starlit sky, and watched the moonlight throw its contours in sharp relief. Shadowed in lines, an eagle of glass. A parting gift from Rome.
He would have to get all his affairs in order, of course. Send a few letters, perhaps, along with a few gifts. Make sure Japan and Nanyue and all the others were properly safe. Just in case.
In the meantime…
"I'll be waiting for your decision, then," China said to the Mandate of Heaven.
—:—
Decades later, a wide-eyed Kushan merchant with wares of jade listened as a Chinese refugee recounted the events of yesteryear. She lived on a perpetual chain of gossip. Of course she'd be the first to know.
"Luoyang burns," he told her. "The Han Dynasty has fallen."
—:—
Footnotes:
1] Timeline: Roughly spanning from 30 AD (start of the Kushan Empire) to 190 AD (burning of Luoyang, the capital of Eastern Han China).
2] Roman trade in India: With Egypt now a Roman province, Rome gained full access to the Red Sea. Trade with India began around the start of the Common Era, after the Romans managed to acquire all the needed geographical information (e.g. India's seasonal monsoons). A lot of this information can be owed to earlier Greek navigators.
3] Kushan Empire: Sometime around the first century BC, one of the Yuezhi tribes (Guishuang) managed to gain enough power to form the Kushan Empire (Kushan, as in Guishuang). Set northwest of India, the Kushan Empire expanded for the first two centuries AD, eventually becoming a major power. Despite the change in name, China continued to call them the Yuezhi.
4] Tianming's blunder, Koguryo the thief: Like China's Zhou Dynasty, the Han Dynasty is split into two time periods (Western and Eastern). The time in between these two periods was rather chaotic, and an usurper named Wang Mang managed to briefly seize the throne. The result is the shortest dynasty in China's history, the Xin Dynasty, which sits right in the middle of Han Dynasty like an awkward pimple. Koguryo took advantage of the turmoil to raid China's commanderies, which China didn't get back under control until 30 AD.
5] Nanyue (Vietnam) the rebel: Refers to the rebellion led by the Trưng sisters in 40 AD. For a while they were successful, and Vietnam briefly became independent. Then Han China put its foot down, and Vietnam was retaken.
6] Armenia: A vital buffer-state separating Rome and Parthia. Needless to say, the two empires have a long history of fighting for control over Armenia. At one point they reached a temporary compromise—Parthia would be allowed to put his kings on Armenia's throne, but only with Rome's approval.
7] Gazelles and lions: Pacorus II of Parthia sent exotic animals as gifts to China in 87 AD.
8] Parthia's terrible directions: In 97 AD, General Ban Chao sent the ambassador Gan Ying on a mission to Rome. Gan Ying traveled as far as the Persian Gulf, but Parthia, unwilling to allow direct contact between China and Rome, fed him misinformation on how long it would take to traverse the sea. The Parthians claimed such a voyage would take two years, and a discouraged Gan Ying returned to China. To put things into perspective? The Mayflower voyage across the Atlantic took two months. Magellan's circumnavigation of the globe took three years.
9] Hadrian's Wall and Yuezhi: The exact purpose of Hadrian's Wall isn't known for certain, but one of the theories is that Rome built it to keep out the Picts (tribal people of Scotland). The wall might have also been a response to the rebellions in Roman Britain, functioning as an expression of power. There is actually a sort-of-legit reason for Yuezhi's presence, since the Kushan Empire did send an embassy to Rome. (Although the timeline is a little screwy here, since the wall was constructed in the 120s and the Kushan ambassadors came in the 130s.)
10] Buddhism, Parthia and Yuezhi: Yuezhi and Parthia both played a large role in spreading Buddhism to China, with translators such as An Shigao (a Parthian prince) and Lokaksema (a Kushan monk) making the scriptures accessible to the Chinese.
11] Roman embassy to Luoyang, Vietnam: While China never managed to reach Rome, Rome certainly did reach China. Around the end of another Roman-Parthian war in Armenia (166 AD), Emperor Marcus Aurelius sent a Roman embassy to Luoyang, China. The Roman envoy arrived north through Vietnam.
12] Ctesiphon: Capital city of the Parthian Empire. Sacked by Rome during the Roman-Parthian War of 161–166.