The vessel teetered and swayed to and fro; dancing with the ebb and flow of the Pacific's peaceful waters. Standing at the helm, a figure emerged — a peculiar blend of English and Spanish heritage encapsulated within a short-statured, bearded man. Carlos "Carlito" de Lopez was the captain of this vessel. Born in the cradle of Gibraltar in 1704, fate had cast him away from the embrace of the English crown, propelling him into the arms of the Spanish monarchy in 1725.
They set sail from the port city of Manila in the Viceroyalty of the Philippines. The wooden vessel teemed with Carlito's loyal crew as they sailed forth. Suddenly, Carlito's gaze fixated upon an extraordinary sight: islands, an endless expanse of them stretching as far as the eye could see.
"Bloody hell," Carlito muttered incredulously. "I've never laid eyes on such a spectacle."
After a brief passage of time, a landmass materialized before Carlito's gaze, its features alien and unfamiliar. An eerie emptiness pervaded the shore, its sole occupants being a multitude of trees. Carlito squinted, straining to decipher any further details. It was then that a pair of binoculars caught his attention, beckoning to be lifted to his eyes. Through their magnifying lens, a curious sight greeted him — people, adorned in garb fashioned from leaves, seemed to populate the land. Carlito lowered the binoculars, his curiosity piqued.
"Land ho!" he proclaimed, his voice carrying across the vessel.
With a symphony of disgruntled groans and creaks, the ship's hull protested its undignified docking, eventually succumbing to a resolute halt. Carlito, grappling with his balance, ascended to the deck.
Jose, wiping spittle from his mouth with a sleeve, cast a disapproving glare. "Madness. Utter madness. You must be mad. This place, it's maddening. I can barely…urk…this place makes me dizzy." Struggling to maintain his footing, he continued, "You, you old people, you're on the verge of death. But me? I have my entire life ahead, and you crash us into the side of a mountain of some sort. How considerate." He turned his gaze back to the railing and retched once more.
Carlito extended a helping hand, aiding Jose to his feet. "Patience, de la Cruz. Let us talk with the natives."
With a swift motion, Carlito vaulted over the railing, descending gracefully onto the verdant grass below. The terrain was unfamiliar to his senses, and as he cast his gaze towards the distant west, an expanse of mountains and plains unfurled before him. He turned his attention back to the vessel, where Jose laboriously hoisted himself from the wooden deck. However, when Carlito shifted his gaze once more, he discovered the natives had encircled him, their presence unnerving yet intriguing.
"Hola, me llamo Carlos de Lopez. ¿Ustedes entienden español?" Carlito inquired, his words hanging in the air as the natives exchanged perplexed glances. He glanced back at Jose, who shrugged.
"Well, it seems not, sir," Jose replied.
Carlito nodded, and looked back towards the natives. Their collective retreat began, a slow and cautious backing away. "Who are you?" he asked once again.
A man stepped forward, his head adorned with a regal crown of feathers, tattoos adorning his skin, and a resplendent golden chain draped around his neck. "Colecj," the man uttered.
"What?"
"Colecj."
Carlito cast a quick glance at his crew, taking a step backward as he leaned closer to whisper in one of their ears. "Did he just say 'Kolech,' Ferdinand?"
"No sé, señor. But I must admit, it did sound like 'Kolech' to me." Ferdinand raised an eyebrow. Carlito straightened his posture, and focused. Focused.
Carlito communicated through a flurry of unintelligible words and intricate gestures, leaving his crew at a loss for comprehension. But as he stopped, the natives stood and nodded in unison. Finally, from amidst the cryptic language, a recognizable word escaped Carlito's lips.
"Did you say your land was Kolech?" Carlito questioned.
"Yes, Colecj," replied the man adorned with the crown of feathers.
"Good. Now, can you understand me?" Carlito inquired.
Then, - suddenly - a nod rippled through the native people. "Excellent," Carlito declared. "Let's get to work."
The new land teemed with a vibrant amalgamation of British, Spanish settlers — albeit in smaller numbers — and the native inhabitants. They called the place "Kolechia". Carlito, perched atop a mountain, surveyed the sprawling terrain, his gaze momentarily shifting to the vessel that stubbornly remained ensnared within its rocky confines. Suddenly, the sound of approaching footsteps reached his ears.
"Bloody hell, Carlito," a familiar British voice called out. "My, my, you've truly outdone yourself."
"Thanks, Bill. It's quite a journey I've embarked upon. You know, the British crown rejected me, and that's how I ended up straddling both Spanish and English identities. Must be because I was born at the same time the Brits captured Gibraltar." He turned to face William Hughes, a smile playing upon his lips, before shifting his gaze to the setting sun. "Well, regardless, how's the crew faring? I've heard they're getting along well with the natives."
"It's going splendidly," William exclaimed. "By the way, that display you put on was nothing short of spectacular, mate! I mean, how did you do it? One moment, you're speaking in some cryptic words and gestures, and the next, poof! They can understand English?"
Carlito scoffed, his air of mystery further perpetuated. "I have my ways as a homo aeternus. But enough about that. What shall we name this newfound land? And please, let's avoid anything as stupid as 'Newfoundland' like the Brits did with their discovery in Canada."
William raised an eyebrow, curiosity etching his features. "Homo aeturnus? What's that, then? And as for the name, we were thinking 'Latasia', or somethin' like that."
Carlito's response was swift, a hint of caution in his voice. "Uh, nothing," he interjected. "You really don't want to know what a homo aeturnus is."
"Well, now that you've piqued my curiosity, Tell me," William raised a finger. "what is this 'homo aeturnus'?"
"Trust me," Carlito replied, his tone tinged with a hint of warning. "You truly don't want to know."
"Fair enough, suit yourself! I'll go grab a cup of tea."
"The tea's run out!" Carlito exclaimed.
"Oh, blimey!" William responded with mock dismay, their laughter intertwining amidst the backdrop of their newfound land.
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