Dawn Breaks Upon Those Sleeping Pyramids: The Awakening of Egypt
Or, The Fate of Egypt as Affected By the Survival of Theodosius
This is the third edition of Rise, Aegyptus!
A late seventh-century statue of Theodosius III, whose reign lasted no longer than two days. The heirless emperor is considered by many as the last Roman Emperor with any legitimacy to his title.
Preface to the Timeline
Or, The Fate of Egypt as Affected By the Survival of Theodosius
This is the third edition of Rise, Aegyptus!
A late seventh-century statue of Theodosius III, whose reign lasted no longer than two days. The heirless emperor is considered by many as the last Roman Emperor with any legitimacy to his title.
Preface to the Timeline
Welcome to the third, and hopefully final, re-write of Rise, Aegyptus! I hope this re-write to be both substantial in the improvements I make, and its capacity to retain its readership. Those who read my previous two iterations of this timeline may be wondering why I've decided to re-write this, especially considering Aigyptos Has Risen! started its life less than a year ago, and I can understand this sentiment. I put forth a detailed explanation of my decision to re-write here, but for those who don't want to wade through the intricacies of my tirade, I'll summarise my reasoning in brief. First of all, I realised that many of the components upon which my timeline depended upon were factually inaccurate. The most major of the which was the personality of Benjamin I, who, at the time of the POD, would not have been the man I portrayed him as. Also, I feel that the rebellion and subsequent independence of Egypt was far too simplistic in nature — American Revolution-type rebellions based upon ideals of equality and liberty were, for the most part, not present in the seventh century. Those are the two main reasons, but if you want to explore the other statements I made via the link I posted above, feel free.
The changes you can expect in this version of the timeline are far more substance over style. Indeed, you may notice that the superficial elements of Aigyptos Has Risen! remain present. But if you scanned the image and its caption, or the title of the timeline, you may have also noticed that the Point of Divergence has changed. The POD in question has been changed to 602; Theodosius, son of Maurice, escapes to the court of Khosrau II. I realise that this POD is similar (but not identical) to the POD of another excellent timeline, The Mauricians: A Medieval Roman novel, and I would like to preemptively address those who might be a little miffed by this by stating that I have received endorsement from the author, I did not think up this POD with his TL in mind (the similarities only became apparent to me after I read what was his latest update at the time), and also that immediately following this POD, the timeline will diverge significantly from anything resembling Pururauka's TL. By the third or forth update, a world utterly unlike that of The Mauricians will manifest. Now that the POD is addressed, other changes that will be implemented is the rewriting or removal of most of the characters seen in the previous two versions of this timeline. Many of my interpretations of the characters have changed, and in addition, 602 is a much earlier date than 622, so it is obvious that some characters will not be in the right time or place to be major parts of this TL. But perhaps the most important change I have made is the slightly different font I am using.
Introduction
- 27th of November, 602 A.D. The streets of Constantinople.
It is a strange concept that it is in the most crowded areas, amidst the greatest volumes of noise, that one can find solace and peace of mind. Those that have lived in large cities; those that have treaded the markets of Ctesiphon or the dockyards of Alexandria, can attest to this curious phenomenon. Certainly, as Julius wandered the streets of Constantinople, he was perfectly aware of the ensuing chaos that surrounded him on all sides, yet he was ignoring it completely. Whether by choice or by the involuntary wanderings of his mind, he did not blink as the citizens of the Great City rushed past him to crowd the streets, he did not pause as they screamed and hollered the name of the new Emperor, he did not flinch as a chariot drawn by four alabaster stallions thundered past his left and his step did not falter as a screaming crowd of prasinoi[1] that was tailing the chariot threw ribbon into the air, causing the path that Julius was walking on to be covered in brightly, but crudely, dyed fabric. To one looking on at Julius, it might seem that he was yet another dusty old war veteran who had taken a few too many strikes to the head. But Julius was in perfect sanity and though it may seem that he was undisturbed by the chaos, the reality was very different. The truth was, Julius was all too disturbed by the current events.
He had in fact, been paying close attention, listening intently to the commotion. By now, Julius reasoned, the new Emperor might be at the Hippodrome. He would have probably entered the racetrack in extravagant style, his burly limbs controlling the chariot with ease, his red hair and scarred face illuminated by the sunlight. As Julius walked, the sound of voices cheering and hands clapping dissipated into an impatient silence marred only by the noises of the Hippodrome's horse. The race is about to begin... reasoned Julius. The new Emperor would have departed from his four horses and the chariot they pulled, and would instead be addressing the assembled crowd from the special gilded seat reserved for the Emperor. It was unlikely that the Hippodrome's audience would hear him, but that didn't matter. They'll settle for anything that isn't Maurice. It doesn't matter what he says or where he comes from. If Julius' face had remained impassive throughout the duration of his stroll, it now winced slightly. He didn't like thinking of Maurice, the fallen Emperor. The man who had been betrayed by his army, abandoned by his son's father-in-law and denounced by his church. It was true what they said of Maurice: that his stringent austerity had crippled the empire, that his control over the army had been totalitarian and unforgiving, that his eye was too focused on redrawing provincial borders than redrawing tax policies. But the common populace, whose fathers had dined with splendour due to the unfettered liberality of Maurice's predecessor, failed to realise that Maurice had inherited a broken treasury and a dysfunctional administration. Julius was wiser. He had seen, first hand, the necessity of Maurice's austerity. Severe it may have been, and perhaps barring the Danubian army from returning home during the winter was too dictatorial, but overall there was little Maurice could do. And he was certainly better than the alternative, the red-headed drunkard who had just been crowned.
He has left the hardships of a soldier behind him, but he has not adopted the virtues and responsibilities of an Emperor... was what Julius had thought on the new Emperor's first night as supreme ruler of all the Roman Empire. While he was popular now, his true face had been revealed to Julius on the first night of Maurice's usurpation. There, the red-headed Emperor had engaged in all manners of debauchery, foolishness and vanity. He had become drunk on wine from the church cellars; engaged in outrageous and lewd acts with the wives of his soldiers in the halls of the Hebdomon palace and engorged himself upon the foods brought forth without hesitation or regard to those whose stomachs were empty. Julius had also witnessed the new Emperor's cowardice when he refused to negotiate with Maurice face-to-face, even after several days of hesitant dawdling, and had instead chosen to parley with the friendlier Germanus and Maurice's inexperienced young son. Hushed whispers told of Maurice's reaction when he was told of how the leader of the mutiny, now leader of the empire, had refused to negotiate with him. Allegedly, the former Emperor had dispaired: "If he is a coward, he will surely be a murderer!"
Julius had reflected a great deal upon this prophetic revelation. It seemed to hold more and more weight as the days without Maurice went by. And Julius had been through many days of change, warfare and usurpation. He was an old veteran of great skill and wisdom, known as simply as "Grey" amongst the other soldiers due to his ice-blue eyes, grey hair and bleached skin that seemed to blend in with his hair under certain conditions of light. And the more Julius reflected on Maurice's statement, more his own decision to directly disobey Emperor Phocas seemed justified. Julius only had a few years of his life left after all, but Theodosius, the son of Maurice, still had a great many years ahead of him. Even if old Maurice toppled over in a fit of sciatic pain, Theodosius would stand firm, with shoulders abreast and limbs taught. Thus, when Phocas had announced his intentions to destroy the Imperial Family of Maurice, Julius had watched complacently as that very family sailed peacefully across the Bosporus in a small barque. He had ordered the party of soldiers under his command to stand firm, urging them that the glittering jewels and shining silk that had been illuminated in the evening sun were the possessions of looters, that the great Maurice would never be so humble as to allow his family to escape on a fisherman's vessel. Tasked with securing the outskirts of Constantinople in the eventuality of escape, Julius did the opposite: Reporting false information so that Phocas did not know of the Mauricians’ escape. It was obvious that sooner or later the existence and nature of Maurice and his family's escape would become known but as it stood, Maurice had been granted a few days or so of extra time.
Now Julius stopped and stood still. His walk had taken him to the dockyards of Constantinople, which were oddly quiet. No doubt the dockworkers and sailors were in the city celebrating. Standing at the water's edge, the warm sea breeze gracing his worn face, Julius could see pinpoints of light on the Bosporus' opposite shore. He allowed himself a knowing grin. Maurice and his family was now in Asia. With a sprinkle of luck and a helping of perseverance, Julius' efforts would not be in vain. He envisioned the day when Theodosius would one day wear the crown of his father, ensuring the continuation of the Maurician line and with it, the perpetuation of the Roman Empire.
Unbeknownst to Julius, his wishes were destined to become actuality. Albeit, the extent of which would prove to be limited. As fate would have it, Theodosius would wear the crown of his father. But having a boy wear a crown doesn't guarantee anything. It doesn't ensure the Maurician dynasty, and it certainly does not safeguard the Roman Empire. Little did Julius know, but the winds of change were gathering, and Theodosius' crown was but a small drop of rain in the approaching storm.
Last edited: