Hffyl's steps grew erratic as he exited the museum, each footfall heavier than the last. The bright afternoon sun, which moments ago seemed inviting, now bore down on him with an oppressive heat. The world around him became a blur of colors, sounds distorting and fading as if he were underwater.
People moved past in slow motion, their faces contorted and voices a distant echo. The cobblestone path seemed to stretch endlessly in front of him, every step becoming an immense effort. Panic settled in as he realized what was happening. Not wanting to draw attention, he mustered all his remaining strength to veer off into a narrow alleyway beside the museum.
The alleyway was cooler, the tall buildings on either side shielding him from the direct sunlight. He stumbled past old wooden crates and discarded containers, his vision narrowing to a tunnel. At the end of the alley, he found a small secluded nook beside a stairwell, a perfect spot to collapse without being immediately noticed.
Pressing his back against the cool stone wall, he slid down, murmuring, "Ah, not again..." His world spun, and darkness encroached on his vision.
Moments or maybe minutes later, the cacophony of the outside world grew faint. Hffyl's breathing became labored, and the last thing he remembered before being enveloped by the black void was the distant sound of a mosque's call to prayer.
...
The Mediterranean Sea, 1510
The gentle rock of the ship and the rhythmic sound of waves slapping against its wooden hull brought Hffyl back to consciousness. Disoriented, he found himself on the deck of an unfamiliar vessel. The sun bore down, its rays sparkling off the vast expanse of the Mediterranean Sea. Sailors moved about with purpose, securing ropes, hoisting sails, and barking orders in a language that, while not entirely foreign, seemed more archaic than he remembered.
Rising to his feet, Hffyl scanned his surroundings, trying to piece together his recent memories. But all he could recall was the dizzy spell outside the museum, the alley, and then... darkness. Now he was here, wherever "here" was.
A voice broke through his confusion. "Hffyl? Is that really you?"
Turning, Hffyl locked eyes with a familiar figure, the imposing presence of the Laksamana, a renowned admiral and a trusted figure in Malacca's maritime history. His regal attire, a blend of traditional Malay garb with Ottoman influences, and the kris tucked into his belt, immediately set him apart from the rest of the crew.
"I... I don't know how I got here," Hffyl admitted, his voice tinged with genuine confusion. "Last I remember, I was in Istanbul... in another time. I don't understand."
The Laksamana's brow furrowed, a look of concern evident in his eyes. "We thought you'd remained in Malacca. When we left for these waters, there was no sign of you. How did you end up on this ship?"
Hffyl shook his head, trying to shake off the fog clouding his thoughts. "I'm not sure," he admitted. "But I remember the museum, the alleyway, and then... nothing. Until now."
The Laksamana placed a reassuring hand on Hffyl's shoulder. "We will get to the bottom of this, young one. For now, let's get you some water and rest. You look like you've been through quite the ordeal."
Staring out at the vast expanse of blue, Hffyl turned to the Laksamana. "Where are we headed?" he inquired, still trying to comprehend the shift in time and place.
The Laksamana, shading his eyes from the sun's glare, pointed towards a silhouette on the horizon. "Behold," he said, a sense of pride evident in his voice. "Istanbul, or as some still call it, Constantinople. A jewel straddling two continents, a bridge between the East and the West."
Hffyl followed the Laksamana's gaze, squinting against the sunlight. As the ship drew closer, the breathtaking skyline of Istanbul started to emerge. The impressive Hagia Sophia, its domed structure a marvel of architecture, stood alongside the numerous minarets of the mosques that dotted the city. The walls of Constantinople, which had withstood countless sieges, seemed to embrace the city in a protective hold.
"It's magnificent," Hffyl whispered, awestruck.
The Laksamana nodded. "Indeed. We are here on a mission of great importance. The Portuguese are increasing their presence in the Malacca Strait, and Malacca's dominance as a trading port is under threat. We need allies, and the Ottomans, with their vast empire and naval prowess, could be instrumental in our struggle."
Hffyl's eyes widened in realization. "So, we're here to seek their assistance against the Portuguese?"
The Laksamana's gaze remained fixed on Istanbul, his expression inscrutable. "Yes," he finally replied. "The world is changing, Hffyl. New powers are rising, and old alliances are shifting. Our visit to Istanbul is not just about seeking military support; it's about forging understanding with the Ottomans. Their empire is vast, their reach extensive. An alliance with them could change the balance of power in the region."
Hffyl took a deep breath, absorbing the weight of their mission. The thought of negotiating with one of the world's most formidable empires was daunting, but he trusted the Laksamana's wisdom and judgment. The fate of Malacca, and perhaps the entire region, hinged on the success of this diplomatic endeavor.
As the majestic sails of their ship billowed gently in the harbor, the Laksamana turned to address his crew and the assembled dignitaries. "We have two primary objectives in this land: secure military support and strengthen our ties with the Ottomans. Let's not forget the purpose of our journey."
Hffyl, looking somewhat distant, approached the Laksamana. "Laksamana," he began, his voice determined, "I need to venture into the city on my own. There are answers I seek, things I need to understand. But I promise, I will return to Malacca."
The Laksamana studied Hffyl for a long moment. He finally nodded, "I trust you, Hffyl. But remember, this city, with all its wonders, is vast and can be treacherous. Stay alert."
Hffyl nodded, his eyes reflecting a mix of resolve and uncertainty. "I will. And thank you."
As Hffyl made his way into the labyrinthine streets of Istanbul, the Laksamana convened a small council with his trusted advisors. "While Hffyl is on his personal quest, we must focus on our mission. We need the Ottoman cannons for our defenses, and if possible, some skilled soldiers who can assist us in our stand against the threat."
Raja Muda, a wise and seasoned diplomat, spoke up, "We've set up a meeting with the Ottoman vizier. He's keen to discuss the terms. The Ottomans, with their vast arsenal and strategic location, could be invaluable allies."
Another advisor, Tengku Iskandar, added, "And the hired assistance could serve dual purposes - they can train our men and fortify our defenses."
The Laksamana nodded, "Good. We have much to accomplish. Let's get to work."