Bab 47: The Emperor's Quill of Thoughts
After accompanying Anna and her entourage to the hospital near the Hagia Sophia complex, John stood steadfastly by her side until the sun dipped below the horizon, and the moon began its ascent.
The two of them had much to discuss, particularly concerning John's recent involvement in campaigns against the Ottoman Empire.
Although Anna's condition remained stable, the insidious plague bacterium known as Yersinia pestis had already begun to compromise her immune system, which safeguarded her vital organs.
As John pondered this, a myriad of potential solutions raced through his mind in an attempt to save her.
While he had prepared a contingency plan before embarking on his military endeavors abroad, he couldn't be certain whether the situation had progressed to a point where immediate implementation was possible.
Despite her illness, Anna summoned the strength for a heartfelt conversation with John.
To an outsider, it might have seemed that she was pushing herself too hard, especially as John recounted his military exploits.
However, her resilience shone through, rather than vulnerability, much to John's admiration and concern.
"Rest well, Anna. I will find a way to cure you, even if I must journey through the darkest of realms."
John's unwavering determination reverberated in her ears, offering solace, although he remained unaware of her sentiments, separated as they were by an impenetrable barrier.
"Oh, Your Highness John, even if a cure were to exist, I am already deeply grateful for the time I've had to spend with you. It has been a true blessing,"
Anna replied, her voice quivering with weakness but brimming with sincerity.
"Moreover, you've only just arrived today, and I would feel more guilt than relief if you were to exhaust yourself on my behalf. It has been a long day for both of us, and you too should seize this opportunity to rest."
Anna's words caused John to clench his fists tightly.
He had rushed to the capital after a grueling month-long campaign and had returned just yesterday to inform his father of the impending plague.
Were it not for Anna, he would have been in bed already after countless debates with church leaders.
His abrupt comings and goings from the palace symbolized the relentless demands of his life at every turn.
Since arriving in this era, he had not experienced a moment of true reprieve.
As his responsibilities continued to multiply following his recent victory, he questioned whether he was truly prepared to lead an empire and its people.
"Then, I will take my leave, but I will not forget the promise I just made. I'll see you again tomorrow."
"As will I, Your Highness."
And so, John and Anna would have to await the next sunrise to meet again, knowing that another challenge would soon cross their paths.
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The Mese commenced at the Milion monument, situated in close proximity to the Hagia Sophia, and extended directly westward.
It traversed past the Hippodrome and the grand palaces of Lausos and Antiochus, and after covering a distance of 600 meters, it arrived at the oval-shaped Forum of Constantine, where one of the city's once two Senate houses proudly stood.
This particular section of the street was also renowned as the "Regia," or more commonly referred to as the "Imperial Road," for it served as the original ceremonial route connecting the Great Palace and the Augustaion square to the forum established by the city's founder.
From there, the thoroughfare continued to the renowned Forum of Theodosius, also known as the Forum of the Bull.
Approximately in the middle of this stretch, it intersected with the expansive promenade known as the Makros Embolos, becoming a pivotal point in the cityscape.
At this junction, a striking tetrapylon called the Anemodoulion, often referred to as the 'Servant of the Winds,' proudly stood.
Shortly after passing the Theodosian Forum, the street bifurcated into two distinct branches at the location of the Capitolium. One branch veered northwestward, leading past the Church of the Holy Apostles towards the Gate of Polyandrion.
Meanwhile, the other branch continued its trajectory southwestward, traversing the Forum of the Ox (Forum Bovis) and the Forum of Arcadius before ultimately reaching the Golden Gate, where it seamlessly merged with the Via Egnatia.
The Mese, boasting a generous width of 25 meters, was adorned with colonnaded porticoes that hosted a variety of shops.
This grand avenue served as the chosen path for imperial processions within the city, a tradition that endured until the Comnenian era.
Among these processions, none were more iconic than the triumphant entry of a victorious emperor.
As they entered the city through the Golden Gate and followed the Mese towards the Great Palace, exuberant crowds lining the street eagerly greeted them, heralding the triumphant return of the imperial army.
Word of the triumphant return of their co-emperor resounded throughout the grand Theodosian Walls, reverberating from the Aegean Sea to the Black Sea and the Bosporus.
Streets were adorned with vibrant ribbons that soared into the city's sky, as the citizens celebrated the long-awaited homecoming of their valiant young warriors.
A contingent of 22,000 Roman soldiers had just crossed the city's threshold, even though their prominent leaders were conspicuously absent from the parade. Nevertheless, the atmosphere remained festive.
Their return march had been delayed for a day, awaiting the co-emperor and their respective generals, who were eager to make their way back.
Initially instructed to regroup in Bizye, they found themselves without their leaders as the city gates remained sealed under the co-emperor's orders.
Consequently, they had no choice but to proceed with their march toward the capital.
The return procession was organized by the palace chamberlain, following orders from Emperor Manuel II. In a similar vein, the army was generously rewarded for their significant contribution.
During the ceremony, their co-emperor, the main man of the day, who appeared to be quite distraught, joined them with two other men, Demetrius and Giorgios.
John found it impossible to sleep the previous night. Despite being exhausted, he couldn't close his eyes as his mind continued to be consumed by worries, especially concerning Anna's condition.
He had almost forgotten that today marked the return of his army to the capital, and with him and his two companions absent from the procession, he had feared an awkward homecoming for his troops.
However, witnessing his father's swift actions, he couldn't have been more grateful.
"Heroes of Rome, it has been too long since the triumphant sound of our horns echoed through these streets. The last time was against the barbarians, and today, it rings out against our most despised foes!"
The Emperor's voice reverberated through the stadium's megaphone as the returning soldiers stood resolute on the field, surrounded by a sea of cheering spectators.
"By the grace of our Lord, who has bestowed upon us this rare opportunity, let us first offer our thanks to Him."
The ceremony continued until midday, filled with speeches, the distribution of rewards and promotions, and other formalities. Despite the festivities, the soldiers were still brimming with energy.
John remained unusually quiet throughout the event, lost in his own thoughts. This caught the attention of his father, Manuel II, who was seated beside him.
"You've been rather tight-lipped today. Are you still troubled?" Manuel II inquired. But John remained absorbed in his thoughts, prompting the Emperor to click his tongue in annoyance before playfully slapping his son's shoulder.
Startled by the sudden jolt of pain, John turned his head angrily toward Manuel II, who chuckled.
"What was that for?" John demanded.
"You seemed a bit distracted, so I gave you a little nudge, that's all."
"That was unnecessary."
In response, John picked up a goblet filled with liquor and downed it in one go.
He refilled it and repeated the process several times before the Emperor's hand intercepted his own, preventing him from taking another sip.
"What's bothering you today? Are you still preoccupied with that young lady?"
Manuel II, his slightly wrinkled face betraying genuine concern, questioned John, who couldn't quite articulate the complex emotions stirring within him.
"*sigh* Father, how can we find a cure for the plague?"
It was a seemingly straightforward question, yet it left the emperor bewildered.
"Cure the plague? That's not something we humans can create at the present."
"So, are you suggesting that God holds the key to the cure?"
"That is not—"
"If God can provide the cure, then why did He afflict us with such a plague? Isn't He the God of mercy? If so, why would a merciful God subject His creation to such tribulation?"
"..."
Manuel II was left speechless. He had never witnessed John so impassioned before. The John he knew had always been brimming with determination and unwavering resolve.
Seeing his son in this state of desolation and defeat deeply perturbed and concerned the emperor.
"I don't believe it was the work of God," Manuel II finally asserted, breaking the silence.
"Whether it was God or not, I cannot say, but sickness, pain, and suffering—these are the burdens of a sinful world we inhabit."
"The question of whether God inflicts such suffering upon His creation is one you must ask Him personally. Although I doubt you will, given that your own prayers have been infrequent."
"..."
This time, it was John who had become speechless. He couldn't muster any counter arguments against his father nor was he able to as the emperor continues on.
"Do you understand the concept of 'free will'? While ultimate authority resides with God, the power to make choices is not His alone; it belongs to us."
"We determine our own actions, and the consequences of those decisions rest squarely on our shoulders. We cannot lay blame on God for choices we make. God created free beings, not slaves."
"We often point fingers at God for everything, but can we truly see the speck in others' eyes before recognizing the beam in our own? We are far from faultless ourselves."
"But then, why—"
"Listen. Whether it was God or you, the plague is a calamity—a consequence of a fallen world."
"Whether you discover a cure or not depends on the very ground beneath your feet. God provides, and humans wield it as they see fit, bearing the responsibility."
"He has already bestowed His gifts upon us long ago; now, the rest lies in our hands, not His."
Manuel II surveyed the jubilant soldiers filling the hall as he delivered his sermon to John.
Uncertain of the impact his words might have, he nevertheless grasped them intimately.
His life had spanned enough years in this world to enable him to articulate his thoughts with profound insight.
Despite dedicating his life to faith, Manuel II harbored his own doubts, which found expression in his words that day. These doubts had been constant companions throughout his existence.
The plague? He had witnessed its devastating effects firsthand, particularly in the loss of his eldest son, who had passed away before John's birth. He could empathize with the suffering all too well.
While Manuel II's words were not intended to console John, they served as a form of self-realization.
It was as if enlightenment had finally dawned upon him, and the words flowed from his lips without him even realizing it.
Had he ever blamed God?
To claim he hadn't would be a falsehood. Ever since inheriting the empire from his father, he had held God responsible for forsaking the very empire that had once glorified His name far and wide.
At one point, he had even contemplated the destruction of the Hagia Sophia, but the architectural marvel had stayed his hand. What had restrained him? It wasn't a divine angel but rather the image of the crucified Christ.
Humans had once crucified God, sentencing Him to death, accusing Him of falsehood despite His sinlessness. What had been His offense? Claiming to be God? Or was it humanity's deep-seated resentment toward their Creator?
"Forgive them, for they do not know what they do."
Manuel II came to realize that this was the essence of mercy.
Humans often forgot that they themselves were in the wrong, pointing fingers at their neighbors for deeds they had committed, condemning their own family members — fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, sons, daughters, grandsons, granddaughters — until eventually, they pointed their fingers at God.
They made rules claiming to be of God, yet the deeds were in essence, very human. They convoluted the Holy Words of God into something that benefits themselves.
We humans are the 'plague,' essentially the bane that cursed the world to its cruel fate.
God didn't banish humanity from Eden; humanity banished themselves from the very sight of God, wanting to be God themselves.
The very words of the Devil that day resounded clearly, the words said to the mother of humanity,
"You will not surely die. For God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil."
How then, did humanity, knowing good and evil, decide that evil is good and vice versa?
Is it necessary to embrace evil to be good? If being evil itself is good, then what is evil?
The root word of 'evil' itself is the Devil, and the root word of 'good' itself is God, so why do we need to become like the Devil to be like God?
Why?
Because we humans were so busy judging what is good and evil that our perception of it became essentially useless. We kill, we murder, we seek vengeance, and the cycle of hatred continues.
We lie, we are lied to, we lust, we indulge in lust... We have incorporated the very essence of the Devil into our being.
Manuel II contemplated once more. But these were all his own thoughts.
John, who had been unable to respond, saw that his father was in a trance, unable to do anything but fill another cup and chug it once again.
Yet, the words spoken echoed deep into his mind, causing his hand to tremble, making it impossible for him to pour another drop of liquor.
PERTIMBANGAN PENCIPTA 
lordgsh
lordgsh Sorry folks, I'm quite busy 'hunting' lately...essentially not available for weeks, since I don't have the time to write since my mind were filled with another stuff, I have to hold my hands for a while...and no, im not dropping this series...just because I'm absent doesn't mean I dropped it, I also have to find the means to fill my stomach, or else what would I write with if I'm empty...lol...still 'hunting' tho, not asking for sympathy but that is life, I guess...anyhow, I will update my weekly chapters to 3-4 per week, maybe from Monday and Friday, assuming that there is nothing at the schedule, it can change but 3-4 is still the target... if I don't fill the quota that I now set, please haunts me in my dream...(>_<)...Viva Romanum! More details on the synopsis...Again, please forgive my tardiness as of late.
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