A Dream of Renewed Bonds
[18th December 1408AD, Palace of Blachernae, Constantinople.]
Another 11 years had pass by, John finally reached the age of adulthood according to the time period, the ripe age of 16, an appropriate age for the noble family to introduce their heir into the realm.
He is of course, the center for such event.
Years of trying to adapt, learn, and harmonize himself with the new reality shaped him into someone he wasn't in his previous life, a prince.
Gone were the John, who sat blankly at his apartment counting the days living in a world of despondency.
However, parts of his past still resurfaced, haunting him despite his efforts to move on.
Now that he is 16, that pain encroaches him even more fervently.
In his slumber, memories from his past life resurfaced; he dreamt of his parents, who had been absent for most of his life, having divorced when he was just sixteen.
Alternating between living with his father and mother, John's relationship with them had been far from memorable, leading him to live a solitary life until he reached adulthood.
His despair and the lack of meaningful connection with his prior parents had been a source of profound disillusionment, which ultimately contributed to his untimely death.
In his dream, the faces of his parents were as if obscured by something. He couldn't see nor remember, probably due to the lacking sentiment he felt all these years.
However, as the memories slowly fading, John was gently awoken by a palace maid.
Now fully awoken from his dream, the maid who had awoken him slightly bowed before proceeded with her task for the day.
As the maid helped him dress,
*knock* *knock* *knock*
It was a rhythmic knock on the door.
"Young Despot, it is I, Demetrius."
The door open and revealed a young man almost in a similar age to him albeit taller and leaner befitting a knight-in-training.
Demetrius, as the young man revealed himself, is John's hetaireia, given to him by Gavriel, a domestikos of the Byzantine army.
Due to his gifted disposition as fighter when he was but a lad, Gavriel took him under his wing as his hetaireia-in-training.
From henceforth, he diligently trained as if his life depended on it, and dreamt of one day serve the empire as a soldier despite its saddening reality.
His meeting with John was nothing sort of fate itself.
When he accompanied Gavriel to train the young prince in the ways of the sword, he and the Domestikos was taken aback by the talents shown by the young despot.
How could they not?
A ten year old boy, who had never learned how to wield a sword, much less how to fight could defeat a squire who has been trained in the arts for years.
It was astounding for both of them, especially for Demetrius who prided himself being the most talented hetaireia candidate in the history of the empire.
Despite being 3 years younger than him, he defeated Demetrius effortlessly.
No one believe it happened, nor was the Emperor at the time who thought that it was exaggerated.
Nevertheless, no one can blame him for failing to recognize the monstrous talent his son has.
In the end, despite his defeat back then, Demetrius admiration towards John grew.
He aspired to be the first hetaireia for the young despot, an honor that he strived hard to achieve which garnered much approval from his mentor.
Gavriel eventually allowed the young squire to serve the young prince as per his wish, not only that, he encourage it strongly.
"Follow his footsteps, and you shall see that our empire are not yet dead. As long as the beacon's lit, the fire within shall endure."
The young knight has never once regret his decision.
"What is it, Demetrius? Any important news that required my attention this morning?"
John inquired the young knight who looked at him with utter reverence gleaming through his eyes.
"His Majesty had asked me to fetch you, Your Highness. The event is about to start and he expect you to immediately come to the hall."
Demetrius replied.
"The time for your introduction throughout the realm has finally come."
Of course John, understood the gravity of what was being said.
The day when he is finally recognized not as a young prince, but a full fledged Despot.
It took him sixteen years till today that he finally gotten this chance.
"Ah...it was time? At long last! I can finally escape this damn cage!"
Huge grin coupled with uncanny remarks caused the young knight in front of him looking confused, head tilted sideways.
When the maid finally completed her meticulous work in adorning the young despot in his royal garment, John couldn't help but steal glances at his reflection in the mirror.
"Is this how I looked like in this garment?"
Gone was the uncouth persona of his past life as John Rickett Marlone. The person he is right now donned a regal attire befitting a prince of an empire - John Dragases Palaiologos.
The intricate embroidery on his garments spoke of a lineage steeped in history. It all seemed surreal to him, a dream he never dared to envision.
In the mirror's reflection, John caught the flicker of uncertainty in his own eyes.
His fingers traced the delicate patterns on his clothing, memories of his former life tugged at his mind, threatening to distract him from the present.
"Unnecessary thoughts again," he chided himself.
"I should stop thinking about useless things."
John steeled his mind, he was no longer the person he was in the past.
'I am now John Palaiologos, not John Rickett Marlone,' he mumbled deep within his heart, with conviction.
His heart swelled with a mix of trepidation and excitement, realizing that the chapters of his life were now written in the annals of history.
After done donning himself for the occasion, John gracefully exit his room before taking the path leading to the hall down below.
He beckoned Demetrius, his trusted hetaireia, to follow suit.
Along the way, they encountered Pavlos, John's tutor, another person whom he had great affection towards.
"Now you truly look like a proper despot, not a kid who only knows how to trick people and insult them to their face."
The old monk began with a rather unfiltered remarks which caused Demetrius to slightly flinched in annoyance.
"Now...now young man, don't look at me like that... I may not be the handsomest man that could cause the heart of young maiden to flutter; I don't have interest in men, especially young man like you."
He chuckled.
'This old man is at it again.'
John clicked his tongue.
"Good morning teacher. I thought you were already at the hall, why was it that you still loitering around here at the hallway, if I may ask?"
John tried to be 'polite' but his expression give another 'politeness' instead.
"Why, do you ask? This old man has no desire to mingle with those stinking hypocrite snakes whose only honor exist solely on their ancestor's name rather than standing on their own two feet."
Pavlos replied, but John could ascertain subtle disdain from the old man.
"Besides, it was not to my nature to be in a crowd of people- you see. I prefer isolation than wasting time with worthless etiquettes."
Amused by the old man's quirky nature, John smiled and shook his head.
Even after 11 years had passed since, Pavlos still displayed remarkable vigor for a man whose age hit mid 60s..
-------------------------------------------------
[Great Hall, Palace of Blachernae, Constantinople.]
Pavlos hastily excused himself; but before he did so, he offered a few pieces of advice to John.
Let's just say - his last teaching that he would impart to the young prince before he begin his new journey into the tumultuous world of politics and intrigue.
"Remember, young despot, confidence without arrogance, and grace without submission,"
"Earn their respect, but never let them underestimate you. Now, if you would excuse me - I leave you into the jaws of lions in the unknown wilderness."
John could only roll his eyes at the remarks, not taking it rather seriously but still giving it some thought.
With a final pat on back, Pavlos retreated back into the shadows of the palace, leaving his pupil behind to face the guests on his own.
John and Demetrius then slowly step into the hall, a hushed silence swooped over which greeted them; every eyes trained towards the young despot grand entrance into the hall; men and women alike.
The palace chamberlain's voice rang out; loud and commanding, heralding his arrival.
Overwhelmed by nervousness, it was his first time attending a magnificent gathering, and especially for his first time, a gathering made for him.
He couldn't help but recall moments from his past life, a time when he was John Rickett Marlone - a name that held no significance in the world's history.
He had never felt this kind of enthralling emotions.
Pavlos' words keep playing in the back of his mind, John took a deep breath, calming his nerves as much as he could.
He knew he had to embody not just the impression but also the grit of being the future leader of the empire.
It may be daunting, but that was part of a journey that John would willing to undertake.
Every step he made, countless eyes follows suit. It was not until he stood next to his parents, Manuel II and Helena, on the dais that the eyes finally stopped scrutinizing, only to be replaced with curiosity.
John noticed many kinds of glares ranging from envy, respect, concern, and dismissive. Expected reaction, but equally overwhelming for a previous introvert like him.
His birthright was indeed not without its challenges as he would've guessed that many emperors before him would have also felt the same pressure as he did, if not, much worse.
"My son!"
Manuel II joyously called out John, gleaming with pride.
"Alas, the day has come that we finally introduce you as the despot of our empire."
The emperor felt somewhat gratified.
Despite his misgiving concerning the empire, he had high hope for John's which would far differ his own.
After all, he would eventually pass on the throne onto John when the time comes, which certainly gave him much food for thought for the future.
Likewise, John recalled the countless conversation he had with his father.
It maybe a subtle moment between father and child; but for him, it was a precious moment that instilled in him the meaning of family.
The ceremony was short; a long speech by the emperor, a ceremonial prayer by the patriarch, and finally blessing for John.
It was surprising well received by the guests, previous doubts were gone and filled with eagerness and anticipation.
The moment comes when John finally began making moves to mingle with the guests, engaging in conversations with various important people he had never seen before.
As time went by, his impression rose quite a bit.
Usually a boy in his age would be afraid to rise to occasion especially when meeting influential people, but John?
He is an outlier of that stereotypical norm.
The young despot goes in rounds meeting with ancient families, aristocrats, patricians and even foreign dignitaries.
On one notable conversation that he had, John found himself face to face with Theodore Kantakouzenos; his distant granduncle who belonged to a dynasty that once held significant influence in the Byzantine Empire.
The intricate ties between the Palaiologans and the Kantakouzenos family were woven through a complex web of political unrest, unions and shared bloodlines, leading to a fascinating history that John find intriguing.
As John met Theodore's eyes, he could see the lingering and yearning of family patriarch.
Through John V Palaiologos, John's paternal grandfather, the two dynasties were united amidst the chaotic period of the once glorious empire that brought it to its current predicament.
John V wedded Helena Kantakouzenos, forging a political alliance that sought to strengthen the waning power of the Palaiologans but inadvertently caused the Kantakouzenos
Though their influence over the centuries waned significantly, their prestige remained.
Theodore was one of the remaining oxen of the decaying Kantakouzenos that still treated the Palaiologans as their most trusted ally in times of despair despite their uneasy relationship in the past.
"Your Highness,"
Theodore Kantakouzenos bowed respectfully towards John.
"Finally we met, seeing you in person rather than baseless rumours, it seems like most of it was actually true - you are indeed as impressive as they say."
Genuine praise.
"Thank you for the generous praise, granduncle,"
John responded humbly, at least by the head of the Kantakouzenos, the impression was not bad.
"I had always respected the Kantakouzenos who are like family to me."
He truly admired the Kantakouzenos family despite being the usurper of the throne during his grandfather's reign, there was no doubt that the family is one of the most prestigious family in the Empire who had served its interest for countless of years.
While engaging in conversation with the other members after changing warm pleasantries with their patriarch, John couldn't help but notice the façade of fake respect and arrogance in the way they speak and the manner thereof.
Despite the blatant disrespect, he remained composed, treating them amicably and refusing to let their behavior affect his emotions.
During the time that John acquainted himself with the Kantakouzenos family, Pavlos's advice echoed in his mind, reminding him of his own worthiness, ones that doesn't really comes from his birthright, but from his merit as an individual.
The brief conversation that Theodore had with John made him realize what kind of person the Palaiologans had produced.
Theodore felt a mix of admiration and a tinge of envy, for his own house had not been as fortunate in recent times.
His gaze briefly shifted to the other members of his own family, and he couldn't suppress a deep sigh.
The once formidable Kantakouzenos blood, a force to be reckoned with in the Byzantine Empire, had now fallen so badly that it reflected him in a bad light amongst the peers.
He observed in his own descendants a reverence for the family's name, yet a lack of the honor and values that had defined them.
"Even on the brink of the empire's downfall, these rascals still exude useless, unfounded confidence simply because they are Kantakouzenos family members."
"*Sigh* I wonder why the Palaiologans still maintain such a strong destiny while mine..."
Theodore's weary eyes returned to John, he noticed a peculiar shadow cast upon the young prince.
It was as though an mysterious presence surrounded him, overshadowing him with an unidentifiable aura.
His eyes widened as he couldn't help but wonder if the legendary Purple Phoenix had chosen John as its incarnation—a symbol of rebirth and hope to lead the crumbling Byzantine Empire once more from the ashes.
His envy wavered, and his gaze lingered on John's surprisingly broad shoulders.
Could this young prince be the one destined to usher in a new era for the empire? Was he chosen by some divine force to guide them through these troubled times?
As the conversation with John concluded, Theodore found himself caught in a whirlwind of emotions—admiration for the prince's intellect and grace, disappointment and frustration with his own family's decline, and a newfound wonder at the potential future that lay ahead for John.
The veteran statesman hoped that the young Palaiologos prince would indeed be the beacon of light that the empire desperately needed.
He couldn't help but hold on to that glimmer of hope, wishing that somehow, the fate of the Kantakouzenos might also find its revival in the presence of this extraordinary young ruler.
At a secluded corner of the grand hall where the rest of the Palaiologans family members stood by, John approaches them, trying to spark a conversation with his fellow siblings that he hadn't seen in a while.
Like how the history were unfurled, Theodore II Palaiologos, John's third younger brother was recently appointed as Despot of Morea, replacing their departed uncle who bore the same name.
Astonishingly, Theodore II held the title just when he was a mere lad of 11 years old, though it is not rare for such occurrence to happen in this day and age.
Surrounded by his loyal vassals and courtiers from his Despotate, the young boy did not shy away from socializing with others especially his other siblings and kin.
John's shifted his attention to another sibling, who was also a Despot, his second younger brother, Andronikos Palaiologos. Inheriting the title Despotes of Thessaloniki, John VII Palaiologos, due to similar reason as their uncle in Morea.
Andronikos seemed deeply engaged in dialogue with his tutor, Demetrios Laskaris Leontares.
Like Theodore, he also shown his vestige as a proper leader despite his age, and with Leontares by his side, maybe, just maybe, he will become the despot that Thessaloniki desperately needed during this time.
John's focus then turned to another younger brother, Constantine Palaiologos, destined to become the last emperor of the Byzantine Empire, as foretold by John's previous history knowledge.
"Constantine, my dear brother,"
A sense of melancholy lingered within John as he looked into his younger brother's eye.
The young boy doesn't know what fate he might encounter in the near future, and if possible, John would like it so that it remain as such.
If it was fate that Constantine ended the empire that their predecessor, Constantine the Great had shaped, John would rather that such fate be changed by him.
It would be such a cruel fate for not only the empire, but the boy who at the moment knows nothing of the world around him.
"I hope that as you grow, the empire prosper that it will not end in your time like it did in mine."
John's words carried a mix of solemnity and hope.
"Brother?"
Constantine appeared puzzled by his brother's ominous words, though a smile still graced his innocent face which caused his heart ached.
He wished to alter the course of history that was destined to be in the future and spare his brother from such cruel fate, he wished that his brother witness not the end but the rebirth of the Empire longer.
The meeting entered its final leg as John continued interacting with his siblings and close cousins, and not to mention, Helena Palaiologina and Zoe Palaiologina, the only female siblings he had in a family filled with males.
-------
"That was quite tiring... no wonder introverts don't go to gatherings even if they had friends to go with."
John had just exited the hall looking exhausted from mingling with the folks.
As he undressed his regal attire and then replaced it with his usual pajamas, his mind look back at what had transpired moments before he left the party.
"It seems my rise is going to be very difficult."
At the party, despite it being a royal ceremony, there are those who have ulterior motives attending the event made it more awkward than it was grand.
It has always been like that throughout the empire's existence.
Factions, ranging from strong support for the emperor all the way to those who wants to advance their own agenda grouped together in one place, stifling the entire hall.
While they may seem friendly towards John, it was also laced with hostilities, much to his chagrin.
"Idiots, when will they wake up from their childish tantrum? Do they not know that the empire is in shamble because of people like them? What do they think this is? A competition?"
John grumbled alone in his room, now fully dressed in his pajamas, he proceed to sat near the window of his room, gazing at the glittering stars yonder.
"Then again, I have to plan my moves carefully now that I've been thrown into the wild."
"I don't understand father. He knew that his rule were being challenged by these vultures yet did nothing."
Manuel II, neither painted in good nor in bad light in the modern history book.
Heck, there was even barely any mention of him outside of his immediate role, achievement, which doesn't remotely seems like it, and death before the throne pass unto him, or rather, John VIII of the original timeline.
All John knows about Manuel II was that he was a person who values his family, but that is also not always being the case.
Examples like how he was forced to fight his own brother, Andronicus IV together with his father, John's grandfather, in a civil war which exacerbated the empire's decline even further.
Andronicus IV was John's uncle, after his attempted coup d'état in dethroning John V, he was failed at first, but eventually succeeded in prisoning his own father and took the throne.
With the help of the Ottomans, the devious snake, profited mostly from the affair. It succeeded in reclaiming the throne but at the cost of more vengeances and an empire in crisis.
Manuel II at the center of it all, knows exactly how destructive it was to command a divided empire where there are more enemies than allies, even within his own court.
So he learned from his father's mistake of allowing such tragedy to befall the weakening empire by trying to make amend with his nephew, John VII, who despite that, still held onto his hope of revenge against Manuel II.
If it wasn't for his contribution during Beyezid's siege on Constantinople a few years ago, rather than exile, he would be executed for his daring attempt to again usurp the throne.
"This is hard."
Despite understood that his rebirth would be filled with obstacles such as these, it still felt ridiculously difficult.
"This is why the people choose a republic rather than absolute monarchy. Why is it an emperor be this helpless, and why does these nobles, royalty kept on making more mess than actually rebuilding the empire? They are much worst than brats that is for sure."
Regardless, that is the reality he had to accept. What can he do? He still had no power to do anything.
"Will I even be able to do anything at all?"
Indeed.
As he kept on contemplating, his eyes never left the stars above.