5. On the Shoulders of Giants
Date Written: January 5, 2019
Date Posted: April 13, 2019
Characters: China, The Roman Empire, Veneziano
Summary: Serica allows his trading partner from the West to visit. A small child sits upon the brute's shoulders.
Notes: China is referred to as Serica, one of the easternmost nations that was known to Greek and Roman cartographers. Serica often refers to just North China at the time. As most people know, you can reach Serica through the Silk Road. However, despite this aforementioned route, trade was usually conducted through a series of mediators (one of which was Parthia, the northern part of modern Iran). I have a headcanon that Rome and China had a sort of friendship, but they didn't always interact because they were busy with their own affairs. Also, this is probably not my best work, I had scant time proofreading and I'm not sure if I characterized China that well. Oh, well.
China had many names over the past four thousand years. He had been known as Serica, Cathay, and sometimes, the Land of Silk. Those days had been long gone and passed. Today, in his native tongue, he is Zhōngguó; to the rest of the world, he is known as the People's Republic of China.
Once, a long time ago, harking back to the eras of empires and budding civilizations, of newly awakened peoples and small Nations, Serica was visited by a man from the West.
Well, if one could even call him a man.
Serica's neighbors had told him tales of an Empire bursting to the brim with territories. They talked of towering pillars of strength, of a language that flowed, but was spoken with power. They talked of barbaric religions, of laws that would shame themselves in front of his people.
His neighbors also spoke of trade. Of the power that could accumulate from material wealth. Serica, even with all his distrust for the Western brute, could not deny himself an opportunity to attain wealth.
So, perhaps this is why Serica allows this trader from the West to visit. Him, with his too curly hair and unshaven face; he was more fit to rule over savage beasts than many civilizations. Atop the uncouth warrior's broad shoulders, a young child busied himself with looking upon his surroundings—eyes appraising the splendor with childlike curiosity.
The Empire of the East was no fool. He knew a Nation when he saw one. If he were to hazard a guess, the little Nation must have been a province…possible two to three centuries at the oldest. He probably wouldn't last longer than a couple more decades, especially if Rome were to fall.
He will. Serica already knows this.
When Rome decides to take a break from their rousing trade agreements ("No, you can't conquer my land! And no! I am not a woman!"), Serica mentally relaxes.
Unfortunately, Rome leaves his brat behind ("Just watch him for a few minutes, Serica!"). Small and weak, the young Nation might have seemed, but even the most unlikeliest of creatures could fear predators. Instead of ignoring him, Serica takes it upon himself to analyze the brat—the foreigner wasn't worth much, but it would give him something to do in the meantime.
The child has lighter hair than his predecessor—skin is fairer too. The clothing he wears is a stark white, completely opposite to Serica's preferred red. As if sensing that the much older Nation is observing him, the child looks at him square in the eyes and giggles.
He actually giggles.
"What are you laughing at, child?"
Instead of sobering and acquiescing to his elder, the boy actually increases the volume of his merrymaking and smiles cutely at the Nation.
"You talk funny!"
Serica balks. "Well, for your information, I think that you sound funny as well!"
The scion of Rome gasps, "Really! I sound normal; Grandpa's been teaching me Latin."
When Serica can offer nothing more than an unimpressed stare, the young child decides to do something else.
Something that Serica swears is an act of pure psychological warfare.
Without much regard to culture and physical boundaries, the young child yawns and starts settling against the elder's side.
"And what do you think you're doing?" Scandalized and completely out of his depth, Serica wishes for nothing more than the young Nation stopping his incessant need for physical stimulation.
The boy tries to explain. "I didn't sleep yet!"
The boy yawns again, cutely, before burrowing further into the Nation's side. The smaller Nation sways and lets his head fall onto the elder's lap.
"We've been travelling for so long and I'm so tired and-and-and—"
Despite himself, Serica brings the boy into his arms and has the boy rest his head onto his left shoulder. The boy, intuitively, snuggles closer (if it were even possible) and heaves a small sigh of contentment into Serica's crimson robes.
The small child is weak, but Serica can sense some sort of power and potential within the boy. Serica won't lie. It's weak and his earlier thoughts plague him: the boy won't last longer than the century.
However…
The Eastern Nation rubs a hand on the young boy's back and hums a melody that the boy can never hope to understand.