The Old Dreams

"Constantinople… A mighty city she has always been, legacy beginning with a Constantine, and her fate shall end with a Constantine…"

- Greek Folklore

Antonius had a dream last night.

He dreamed that he is in a triumph parade before the temple of Jupiter on Capitoline hill in the old Rome, donned in Laurel Crown, hugging an ancient Roman Galea helmet, wearing a purple garment with golden linings and scarlet cloak, standing on an armoured cart of war, waving and smiling to the people by the sides of the streets who are whistling, clapping and cheering for him.

Behind and before him, soldiers holding Gladius bronze swords and Javelins marches in one, with two soldiers in front of him, their head covered in lion's skin, holding two military standards up high in the air, one labelling four letters sewed in yellow "SPQR", and another has an insignia of a Roman-eagle with some Latin words beneath. It all seems like a fine day and a pleasant dream for Antonius, until the scene immediately changed to another direction.

He continued dreaming, this time he dreamt he is on a wall, below him are countless zombie-like men holding blades climbing to reach him through ladders, in a distance countless arrows are fired upon him landing like raindrops. While around him on the wall, there is no one left standing alive, a bunch of familiar faces laying around dropping dead with blood covering their faces, including Abdullah, Giovanni, Francesco, Mauro, Abraham and Julian, all dead with their eyes still open in desperate.

Antonius broke into a cold sweat and awoke instantly, panting with his chest bobbing up and down, and walked outside of his room wishing to grasp some air.

Inside the palace, in both Constantinople and Edirne, two other men also broke into cold sweat and awaken from their mid-night sleep from some nasty dream.

Constantine dreamt that he is foreseeing a huge construction project on a hill beside the Straits of Bosporus and the Sea of Marmara, beside him are soldiers in Lorica Hamata chainmail holding the Christogram of Chi-Rho, with Greek and Latin alphabets of the name "Saint Constantine" . Below him, a huge True Cross of Christ is erected in the centre of the construction site, all signalling a brand-new start on a piece of light shining under the light of Christianity by a great emperor.

But again, the scenery changed, he watched hopelessly as a bunch of men wearing turbans bursting through the Golden Gate of Constantinople, raising their blades high in the air. Behind him are a crowd of elderlies, injured men, women and children hugging together and weeping in a disheartened state, as-if the world has came falling down. He let out a loud but anguished battle roar, rushing into the coming men with turbans holding his blade, never to be seen again.

Mehmed, on the other hand, also had a similar dream. He saw himself entering a city which he calls "Kostantiniye" and "Istanbul" As he rides into the Golden Gate on a white horse with his heads up high. People bows and kneels before him begging for mercy. He is named as "Fatih", the conqueror, and shall be remembered forever in history, as he shall end the age of Romans, for years his sons and grandsons shall cast fear and terror on the Europeans, their boundaries stretches all the ways from Babylonia, Media, Carthage, to Vienna, so feared that even the Kaiser of Holy Roman Empire dare not mention his name.

However, just after he entered the city, he plunged into darkness and then into a twisted world of reality of cemeteries, with a red apple on a hill, he ran restlessly towards the apple, but it just seems like the apple is getting further and further away from him, until it vanished beneath the horizon as-if Mehmed is running in the opposite direction. Just as the apple disappears, a man with a bold head, devilish smile wearing a brown-yellowish shirt stuck his hands into Mehmed's back, sending his body burning away and he feels his soul being taken away by the devilish man behind.

The three awakened men all stepped outside to get some fresh air and went thinking about their respective dreams just now, wandering whether they mean anything and if theres any chance they might be linked with recent events. Coincidentally, they all looked in the direction of Hagia Sophia, the greatest place of worship in the east of Constantinople.

Antonius saw a clear figure resembling Jupiter, the king of gods in Roman mythology.

Constantine saw a faded silhouette of Saint Helena, a saint of Christianity, mother of Constantine the great and the lady who led the Roman Empire converting to Christianity.

Mehmed saw nothing because Constantinople is too far away.

This night is predestined to be a sleepless night for the three of them. Constantine went to re-examine the affairs of the state and got into work, with the hope that his effort will turn into energy that will make his empire a little bit stronger. Mehmed walked sneakily to the room beside his room, looked at his young child Beyezid and his wife Gülbahar Hatun with his eyes full of love and worrisome. While Antonius took a stroll by the beach watching ships of his fleet docked in the harbour as-if they are his children.

Inside the city, the darkness and quietness continue, but outside the city, Ottoman scouts have already been watching the defence for days, drawing maps, analysing where is the weakest point and the spot to place their war engines.

The night do seems long, but for time shall never await for anyone who cannot catch up with it. The wheel and hands of the clocks continues moving, followed by the sound of ticking. Each second the clock moves, it draws the people, and the city, to their eventual fate.

"Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tock…."

As the clock ticks, the year 1452AD came to an end.

The year 1453 arrived.