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The Rebirth of the Purple Phoenix

In a world ravaged by chaos and loneliness, John's life lacked purpose and meaning. The constant protests outside his apartment mirrored the turmoil within him, their noise a haunting reminder of the unrest he couldn't escape. Lost in unemployment and isolation, John sought refuge in virtual realms, where he could momentarily escape reality. Yet, his existence felt empty, like an abandoned canvas waiting for a painter's touch. With each passing day, he robotically navigated life, seeking something more. In an unexpected twist of events, a sudden explosion shattered his life, leaving him floating in a mysterious void. As panic threatened to consume him, an otherworldly voice offered him an enigmatic opportunity—to rewrite his destiny, to embrace a higher purpose. With unwavering determination, John accepted the offer, and a blinding light transported him to a new reality. His consciousness had returned, but his senses felt foreign, devoid of sight. Instead, he sensed momentous events unfolding—a significant figure being born, destined to become the emperor of a crumbling empire. John VIII Palaiologos, a historical figure tasked with confronting the mighty Ottoman Empire, was now the role he inhabited. As he grappled with his newfound identity and the weight of his responsibilities, he realized that his journey had just begun. The fate of an empire rested on his shoulders, and he was determined to shape history in a way that would bring hope and transformation to his world. --------------------------------------------- [Author Note:] Updates: 3-4 chapters/week *Miss me? Don't be, I'll be much busier than last time, but do try to write, somehow, I might be a tad below my chapters expectation for a couple of weeks depending on how busy I am.* Cheers!

lordgsh · 历史
分數不夠
66 Chs

I Have Found

It was warm, yet simultaneously windy in the majestic city of Constantinople; the summer season reached its final stretch, ushering in the brisk autumn breeze.

Numerous events had unfolded, dramatically altering the landscape that had become synonymous with the people not too long ago.

Buoyed by a victory that had eluded them for a considerable period, the people of Byzantium were exuberant; their faces radiated excitement, even if it was just one of the myriad expressions humans could exhibit.

In the current moment, the city reveled in its most precious height; liberated individuals from across Greece flocked to visit their once-glorious capital, a symbol of their culture for more than a millennium.

They took pride in being Romans, not as subjects of occupiers who had stripped them of their land and freedom, but as the rightful inhabitants of the land they called their own.

Constantinople had seen better days, and one of those days was unfolding before them.

Unlike in the past when streets were deserted, and foreigners were as rare as the ships gracing its shores, men and women from distant lands gathered to witness the burgeoning capital that had courageously weathered the crisis afflicting it for so long.

Some marveled, while others held onto their skepticism.

Yet, none could deny the transformations they witnessed with their own eyes, changes deemed impossible for a nation on the brink of annihilation.

Gradually, many came to realize that this city had experienced a rebirth — and it was orchestrated by none other than their young co-emperor, previously unknown until recently.

The fame of the warrior-king, John VIII, spread far and wide; even nations to the east became acquainted with the man.

Legends spun by the Bulgarians, verses composed by monks, and the melodies sung by bards spoke of heroic deeds.

Many sought to witness the man for themselves, yet none could recognize him beyond the stories, songs, and verses heard from various sources.

Since the war's conclusion, commerce has surged into the city, replenishing much of what lay bare during the empire's years of decline and agony.

The population steadily increased instead of dwindling, and now, the crisis that had plagued them for centuries had become a thing of the past.

Amidst the bustling hub at the city center, in the streets of Mese, a trio made their way, cloaked and veiled.

"It looks splendid, Your Highness."

"I never imagined the day would come when I'd witness such a sight in my last days."

Pavlos's eyes glistened, struggling to contain the emotions welling up within him.

This was a sight he had never seen since becoming a court servant for the Palaiologans; it was so rare that he would consider it a fitting spectacle before he passed on.

"You'll never tire of seeing this sight from now on, old man."

John lightly chuckled, amused by the expressions of the elderly tutor.

He then added,

"Nevertheless, we have to thank Nikos for all his hard work."

His attention turned to another person who was also with them.

"Even if I want to boast, Your Highness, the credit is not solely mine."

Nikos humbly replied.

How many years had it been for the young Demarchos who was once a refugee escaping the tragedy in his homeland?

Surviving the aftermath in Ankara eight years ago before being recruited by the then-teenage co-emperor, he could have never predicted that his life would take such a turn.

He had to acknowledge that never once did he imagine the person he served could transform a ruined state into a functioning home with just a few repairs to the roof.

This man, John VIII Palaiologos, boldly dismantled the structure down to its foundation and reconstructed a new home upon it. And not just any home, but a mansion — no, a palace.

Never had he witnessed such determination from a young, inexperienced royal born into a prestigious family.

Even back in Anatolia where he hailed from, no one could come close to this pragmatic prince, even if their situation was far worse than his.

John was one of a kind; a monarch who could rival historical figures such as Julius Caesar, Alexander the Great, or more recent ones like Genghis Khan, with his domineering attitude.

"But this is just the beginning," John emphasized. It seemed like his ambition was still ever-growing.

"I don't want to just end it here. Rome wasn't built in a day," he added, referencing a famous French quote.

"Was it because of that?" Pavlos responded, alluding to the recent idea that the co-emperor had in mind.

Nikos, seeming to understand Pavlos's implication, interjected, "That would be a hard battle, no? Dealing with the theocrats is unlike dealing with generals on the field of battle or shrewd merchants on the streets."

"Still, it is a battle worth fighting, not just for the people of this city but also for the whole world," John said in a resolute tone.

"I have to make sure that the imperial court agrees to this idea, if not...." A subtle hint of mysterious undertone emerged from John, causing the duo to shudder. It wasn't for long, as John quickly changed his expression to that of yearning.

"Adrianople, huh? Not too long ago, it was the city of the Turks... and now, it was almost becoming my dominion."

"Fate surely is a fickle thing to grasp."

Plans and schemes are nothing in the face of power and influence; at the end of the day, what matters most is perseverance in the face of adversity.

To deal with the overbearing nobles who defied even the emperor, what he needed was not fear but recognition.

Adrianople came at an opportune time for John and his companions.

He had finally acquired his own territory to manage, where nothing could stop his incredulous ideals from succeeding.

Plus, it also came with the freedom to impose his ideals whenever and however he desired.

For now, though, his initial vision for Constantinople was already accomplished; as there was nothing more he could do to further its development than what it had already achieved.

He yearned for a better challenge; a challenge to his ingenuity, stewardship, and leadership.

Adrianople is the perfect place for him to do just that, despite being vastly different from handling Constantinople; it was not entirely coated with improbability.

After all, the ingredients were already there, and all he had to do was act as a chef preparing the gourmet.

Constantinople was an ideal starting point for the pragmatic co-emperor who had entered the realm of statecraft and stewardship; in addition, aided by the emperor himself, it was also a way for the young co-emperor to ply his craft for the role he might play in the near future.

"My work here is done," John declared while closing his eyes deeply.

Nikos and Pavlos could only look at each other, confused at what their young co-emperor had just said.

'What is done?'

Little did they know their challenge had just begun; it doesn't stop there, and it will never end there.

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[Sacred Palace, Imperial Courtroom, 17th August 1414AD]

It was the day of the award ceremony honoring the brave Romans who had defeated the Turks and restored their prestige on the world stage.

The participants included various nobles, court dignitaries, influential patricians, imperial families, and even delegates from the newly liberated Despot of Bulgaria.

Leading the forefront was John, followed by the commanders, namely Demetrius and Giorgios, who also led their own junior officers. Behind them were the delegates from Bulgaria, with Stefan as the crowned Despot, followed by Dmitriv, Simeon, and Petar, who also led their Bulgarian junior officers.

"Leading by example and displaying courage in the face of fear, John VIII Palaiologos, Co-emperor and Caesar of the Roman Empire, has brought honor and victory to our forefathers and to Rome itself. He battled, fought, and won against the infidels who were casting shadows upon our Motherland."

The chamberlain's voice echoed as he read aloud the inscriptions in his hands.

"By the grace of our Lord and Savior, His Blessed Holy Mother, Our Theotokos, and His mediator, our Autokrator of All Rome, Basileus Manuel II Palaiologos, I hereby grant the city of Adrianople and all its fiefs to John VIII Palaiologos."

"May your reign on these lands be forevermore and blessed by the Lord, and may wisdom guide you."

He continued further,

"As the rightful heir to the purple throne, I hereby appoint you, John VIII Palaiologos, as the Despot of Adrianople. You may rise and face the Lord, His Mother, and His mediator."

On that note, John rose from his kneel, then kissed the icons of both Jesus Christ and the Virgin Mary before once again kneeling with his head bowed towards Manuel II.

Satisfied with the gesture, the chamberlain called upon the next recipient,

"For bravely leading the Legions into battle and defeating the enemy commander, Demetrius tou Filippou, I hereby appoint you as Protostrator of the Roman Army."

"May you lead our empire's valiant men with bravery and loyalty."

"You may rise and face the Lord, His Mother, and His mediator."

Like John, Demetrius also performed the same gesture, satisfying the chamberlain.

"Now, for his meritorious deed in capturing the enemy king, Giorgios Tzamiketes, the Emperor wishes to personally award you with the highest order of recognition, as you are his royal retinue."

"The Autokrator grants you the title of Baron, together with the holding of Kaliopolis."

"You may rise and face the Lord, His Mother, and His mediator."

Giorgios, the Royal Guard Captain, like the previous recipients, also repeated the same gesture.

The ceremony then continued with the junior officers from the Byzantine side.

The chamberlain read aloud their deeds and honored them for their contributions, bringing overwhelming joy and gratitude to many of these young officers.

Despite the sacredness of the event, the spectators remained unusually quiet, underscoring their respect for the ceremony taking place.

All of this was made possible due to John's specific request to properly honor and recognize their Bulgarian friends.

The summary of the whole event was as follows: John was given the province of Adrianople, Demetrius was promoted to the vice of chief commander, and Giorgios was awarded a noble title and a barony.

It was then the Bulgarians' turn to conclude the ceremony for the day; however, it was more of a formality than anything else.

They had already conducted their own ceremony back in Tarnovo, which was witnessed by John and the Emperor's delegation.

Unfortunately, not everyone was pleased with this turn of events, as many higher court officials seemed dismissive and paid no attention to the Bulgarians; in fact, many entirely ignored them.

John scoffed at those officials who offered nothing but to warm their seats in their offices.

Nevertheless, the ceremony ended amicably, with no interruptions or objections raised.

However, it was not yet over for John.

After the ceremony concluded, the imperial court instantaneously transformed into another battlefield - that of politics.

The chamberlain delivered his final remarks and concluded the ceremony before eventually passing the next course to Emperor Manuel II.

"Today is a proud day for me and the people of Rome; witnessing many new brave young men such as you pave the way for our empire's continued existence is, by itself, a commendable effort that lightens my heart," Manuel II began his speech.

"But take no complacency in what we have achieved in these past two months or so; instead, look to the future, a thousand years ahead. We may have succeeded in bringing back honor to our people, but the work is far from settled."

He continued before addressing the council next.

"Now, we old men should work harder; we cannot lose heart to these young and vigorous youths. Let us set examples for them, for our future."

The crowds murmured in agreement with the emperor's words.

"We have much to work for, especially since the co-emperor has brought us the boon that was the territories retaken from the clutches of the damned Turkish infidels."

The emperor continued further; ears perked, and no disruptive commotions were heard.

"And upon that, gentlemen of this sacred court, enlighten us with your voices of wisdom and provide us with measures that would further elevate our empire to its highest."

The mood was set. Eager council members were already prepared to fulfill the expectations that the emperor had just set.

"Aye! Glory be to Rome!"

They collectively exclaimed.

It was the first time in a while that the council members exhibited this kind of vigor, most not seen since the siege by Beyezid a decade ago. While it was refreshing to see, it was also somewhat nauseating, especially for John.

"First and foremost, let us hear the suggestion of our despot; it was, after all, his effort that brought this boon to us in the first place."

At the mention of him, John rose and walked up to the middle of the court.

"Respected members of this sacred imperial court, today is a tremendous honor for me to finally face all of you and share my thoughts on the matter concerning our glorious realm."

He began with a powerful statement.

"Likewise, it is also a great burden for me to carry. Despite being a young co-emperor, I hope that the council will not overlook what I'm about to say. After all, we are all here today because of the grace given to us by the Lord."

"First and foremost, I would like to thank the Autokrator for having me today, and also congratulations to the recipients for their contributions to the empire. I am glad that I had the opportunity to serve alongside them - these brave men of Rome."

Hearing the words of appreciation directed towards them, the young officers and the Bulgarians remained silent despite the sentiment.

"But I am not here today to boast about my achievements. Instead, there is something of utmost importance that I must share."

As John said this, every eye was fixed on him.

"I have finally found a way to dispel the curse that has plagued us for thousands of years."

What does he mean? The council was confused at that statement.

"I have found the cure for the 'Black Death.'"

Uproar. Chaos. Bewilderment.