Away from the tumultuous battleground, a tableau unfurled as scores of mounted men hastened their departure.
Among them rode the Sultan, his retinue dwindling, all seeking escape from the maelstrom that had engulfed his once-potent core forces.
His voice carried a blend of frustration and incredulity, a tempestuous bellow issuing from his mount as if to wrestle his emotions free.
"By the heavens! Curses upon curses! Why, Ya Allah, why?" His anguished cry reverberated through the air, a fervent plea for enlightenment, dissipating like smoke on the breeze.
The harsh reality weighed heavily upon him—the ruler, once at the helm of an imposing army, had suffered a resounding defeat. The depth of his loss was hard to fathom. How had it come to this? The question gnawed at him ceaselessly, an enigma begging to be unraveled.
As his steed carried him onward, he grappled with the puzzle of his downfall. The details were a haze, events slipping through his grasp like grains of sand. How had victory slipped into defeat, leaving him confounded and disheartened?
Fate had offered him a slender escape, a chance to elude capture as the battleground crumbled. The instant his janissaries became embroiled in the fray, he seized the opening to flee.
With his remaining courtiers, he managed to slip away unnoticed, their withdrawal shrouded from pursuit. Now, they rode beyond the battleground's reach, the cacophony of combat receding into the background.
Yet, an unforeseen twist of destiny awaited. Moments ahead of the retreating cohort, a group of men materialized, crossbows poised and ready. The advancing troops came to an abrupt halt, gauging this fresh development.
"Who comes forth?" hailed one of the men, seeking confirmation from the figures across the way.
From the other side emerged a man, announcing,
"Under the mandate of John VIII Palaiologos, co-emperor of the Roman Empire, I, Giorgios Tzamiketes, acting on his behalf, hereby apprehend Mehmed I Osmanoglu of the Ottoman Empire without delay."
"Dismount this instant, or else I shall send you to Lucifer without delay," Giorgios warned sternly.
In a panicked scramble, the Sultan and his retinue swiftly dismounted and took their positions, standing their ground.
------------------
[Combined forces commanding camp.]
"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Sultan. I am John Palaiologos, co-emperor of the Roman Empire. Here with me is Stefan, leader of the Bulgarians,"
John introduced, the atmosphere tense as they gathered around the table.
The Sultan and his captured retinue were seated across from them, an unspoken tension hanging in the air.
The Sultan's voice carried an undertone of furious curiosity as he demanded,
"What is the meaning of this? Why have you come?"
"Why, indeed. I am here to offer my assistance to these gentlemen and aid them in liberating themselves from your oppressive rule," John replied calmly, his fingers steepled beneath his chin.
"Assistance? Do you truly believe the remnants of a fallen empire can achieve such a feat? Whatever your intentions, know that I will never bow to the likes of you,"
the Sultan retorted mockingly, his resolve evident, though his wavering eyes betrayed a hint of uncertainty in the face of their unexpected triumph.
In response to the Sultan's taunting words, both John and Stefan's companions took a resolute step forward, their patience worn thin by the insults that had been hurled their way.
However, before their simmering anger could escalate further, John's commanding hand rose, a signal that restrained them in their tracks.
"Your perspective is flawed, Mehmed," John retorted with a stark lack of courtesy, his tone unyielding.
"You possess no authority to reject our desires. Should you attempt defiance, your life will become a forfeit, and the House of Osmanoglu will relinquish any claim to your thrones. Alp Arslan's disappointment in such a scenario would be palpable."
"Therefore, I pose this question to you, Sultan: Will you not yield to our demands?"
John's voice, laced with a chilling coldness, held unwavering resolve. His eyes bore into the vanquished Sultan, who could not help but shiver under their unyielding gaze.
"Th-this is..."
The Sultan began to whisper, grappling with the overwhelming pressure exerted by the young and seemingly inexperienced co-emperor.
The intensity emanating from John was inexplicable, as if he had glimpsed realities beyond the Sultan's comprehension.
"What do you seek?" the Sultan stuttered, a hint of trepidation in his voice.
A sardonic smile tugged at John's lips, and he signaled to Demetrius, who stepped forward with the prepared treaty in hand.
"Within this treaty, my demand is clear. You shall formally acknowledge the independence of the Bulgarian state, now rechristened as the Despotate of Bulgaria."
"This newly sovereign entity shall be placed under the protective mantle of our Roman Empire. Moreover,"
John continued, outlining the audacious terms that reverberated through the ears of those present. Though their audacity was striking, these terms had been meticulously agreed upon earlier.
"Macedonia, the entirety of western Thrace, including Adrianople, shall be promptly restored to the jurisdiction of the Empire."
Not to be forgotten is the province of Optimatoi, with specific emphasis on the city of Nicaea, which you audaciously seized from the Empire."
"Keep in mind, your compliance with these terms is the only condition for your continued liberty."
John's declaration concluded with an air of finality, leaving no room for negotiation or escape.
Unable to retort nor reply, the Sultan silence in resignation were palpable, however, the same couldn't be said for his retinue who considered such terms to be unfair, not knowing that they laid the same terms back in the days.
In the final moments, however, yielding to the combined pressure from John and the furious Bulgarians, who appeared poised to seize his very life, the Sultan reluctantly placed his signature upon the treaty, his voice silenced by the weight of his defeat.
What other course lay before him? The die had been cast, and his existence hung perilously in the balance.
And so, the chapter closed on Bulgaria's conquest and its encompassing environs. The narrative concluded with the resounding defeat of the once indomitable Ottoman forces.
From that juncture onward, the Despotate of Bulgaria emerged anew from the ashes of its downfall, a phoenix reborn after the passage of half a century since its initial demise.
It was finally returned to the embrace of the Empire that relinquished its hold, an empire that had witnessed the founding of the Second Bulgarian Empire following its independence.
In the span of just a month, the war aimed at liberating the entire region of Bulgaria reached its climax, resulting in the reestablishment of Bulgaria as a despotate under the Byzantine Empire.
The repercussions of this conflict sparked a profound transformation in the power dynamics across the Balkans.
As the defeated party, the Ottomans withdrew their influence from Eastern Europe.
This shift began after the loss of the region and the decimation of the Ottoman army in Rumelia.
Sultan Mehmed I subsequently lost control over his vassals in the Balkans, leading each of them to declare independence.
This declaration of independence followed his capture by the forces led by John.
Consequently, after more than half a century of asserting dominance over the Balkans, the Ottomans found themselves once again confined to their sphere of influence in Asia Minor.
While it was the Bulgarians who succeeded in their endeavor, John VIII Palaiologos reaped the greatest rewards.
Not only did he secure Bulgaria as a formidable bulwark to protect Constantinople, but he also acquired the much-needed manpower to bolster the empire's beleaguered forces, which had significantly dwindled since its precipitous decline.
However, these achievements, while noteworthy, fell short of fully restoring the Byzantine Empire to its former grandeur.
Undoubtedly, the recovery of territories once conquered by the Ottomans marked a significant triumph, but it did not translate into unequivocal dominance within the region.
The core issue revolved around the territory the Empire had historically occupied. Without regaining its full imperial stature, its influence remained limited.
In terms of economic power, the Venetians and Genoese, as prominent merchant nations of the era, controlled most of the trade routes leading to Constantinople, monopolizing the associated trade benefits.
In the realm of politics, the Byzantine Empire, renowned for its rich history, had consistently wielded substantial influence through strategic marital alliances.
However, this double-edged sword not only enabled the ability to rally nations in times of need but also left openings for allies to exploit their overwhelming influence.
Regarding military might, even without subsequent reform plans introduced by John, the Byzantine army had always been a formidable force.
If not for the loss of manpower, territories, civil conflicts, and plagues, they would still have struck fear into their adversaries.
Unfortunately, the Byzantine army had lost its morale and confidence due to these factors.
It's essential to acknowledge that the empire's resilience had long been rooted in its Roman military traditions.
Regrettably, insufficient manpower and funding hindered their capacity to contend with adversaries, and the weakening of the command structure reverberated throughout the army.
During its zenith, even ordinary Roman soldiers, who were well-trained, could readily overcome their foes.
Elite forces could outmatch janissary captains, even when the elites themselves were common soldiers. Such was the might of their troops during their peak.
Such was the predicament that beset the Byzantine Empire. Nonetheless, John's undertaking was far from futile.
When he entered the fray, his objective was twofold: to diminish the Ottoman sphere of influence and, in a technical sense, to regain authority over Bulgaria.
One might argue that his strategy bore fruit. However, in the grand scheme of things, it left the war-torn region mired in a complex web of fragmented influences, altering little in the overall landscape.
In Western and Southern Greece, a multitude of powers contended for dominance in what would eventually become the pivotal historical heartland of the Byzantine Empire following the fall of the Western Roman Empire.
Centuries of incessant struggle between the Byzantines and the Western powers for control of this region created fertile ground for those eager to lay claim to the legacy of the Roman Empire.
Epirus, on the other hand, witnessed the rule of a diverse array of independent lords, most recently as vassals of the Ottoman Empire.
Notably, the Tocco family managed to assert substantial autonomy over much of the region after its separation from the Byzantine Empire.
Despite these territories residing within the sphere of the Byzantine Empire's influence, the Despotate and its associated city-states never fully aligned with the emperor or his objectives.
In the Peloponnese, unity under a single banner remained elusive, as the region remained fragmented and divided.
The Principality of Achaea, an enclave of the Latin Empire, endured foreign rule for over two centuries, largely under the sway of Sicilian and Neapolitan powers.
During this tumultuous period, it struggled to breathe life into the remnants of the Latin Empire.
Only Morea and Corinth continue to thrive within the empire, governed by John's brother, Theodore II Palaiologos.
Athens, on the other hand, maintained its autonomy while remaining a vassal under the empire's sway. Governed by the Acciaioli family, this city-state existed under Western influence while still being a subject of the Roman Empire.
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[Patriarchal Cathedral of the Holy Ascension of the Lord, Tarnovo, Despotate of Bulgaria]
[12th June 1414AD]
Tarnovo.
This once magnificent city, which had been scarred by death and destruction following the edict issued by the Ottoman sultan and his Grand Vizier during the 'Bloody Easter,' had been meticulously rebuilt in anticipation of the upcoming event.
The inhabitants who had once fled now returned to witness the dawn of a reborn Bulgaria.
"When is the ceremony scheduled to begin?" one person inquired.
"I've heard that the Roman co-emperor will also be attending," another remarked.
"Stefan the Liberator is to be confirmed as the Despot, isn't he?" someone in the crowd asked.
The cathedral square was teeming with throngs of people who had gathered to witness the grand coronation of the newly established ruler of the Despotate, Stefan Stoyanov.
As the crowd buzzed with excitement, John stood as a witness for the ceremony, representing the empire on this momentous occasion.
He and his men had toiled tirelessly to reconstruct the city after the war, aided by the artisans he had brought from Constantinople. They had fulfilled their promise to Stefan, delivering on his oath of loyalty.
Unlike the desolate and decrepit Tarnovo of the past, marred by war and occupation, the city had transformed into a vibrant hub, attracting the people of Bulgaria who longed for its glorious days as the 'City of Kings.'
As the heavens declared, the cathedral bells tolled incessantly, heralding the commencement of the ceremony.
A multitude of spectators, numbering in the tens of thousands, filled the square and stretched beyond its limits to witness this historic moment.
They erupted in joyous cheers to welcome the event, but fell into hushed anticipation as the cathedral's doors slowly swung open, revealing dozens of figures.
"Citizens of Bulgaria, the toils of the past have finally come to an end. The days when Bulgarians toiled under the yoke of their oppressors are now behind us!"
Emil, the unorthodox monk who initially resisted but eventually assumed the esteemed position of the new Patriarch of Bulgaria, had managed to secure the endorsement and confidence of the country's bishops.
They recognized his outstanding contributions during the war as part of his remarkable suitability for the role, making him the ideal leader for the church.
"This morning marks the dawn of a new era for Bulgaria, guided not by an outsider but by one of our own. It ushers in a new age, even as we confront the shadows of our ancestors' past."
"The inauguration of our new leader, Stefan Stoyanov, shall now commence!"
As Emil's speech concluded, the bell rang a few more times, signaling the arrival of the man of the moment: Stefan.
He was dressed in the most regal Bulgarian attire, and his sharp, astute appearance captivated the hearts of everyone in attendance, and accompanied by his trusted companions—Dmitriv, Petar, and Simeon—riding on horseback.
Not far behind this quartet, however, the twin-headed eagle standard soared gracefully into the heavens. Leading the procession was John, guiding the united forces of both Romans and Bulgarians.
This grand spectacle embodied the profound alliance that bound these two nations, forging them as brothers sworn to a common empire.
The city reverberated with exultant cheers, as the collective fervor threatened to shake its very foundations. Tens of thousands of voices joined in unison, raising their jubilation to the heavens, all eyes fixed on the magnificent procession.
Some spectators went so far as to cast fragrant flower petals into the air, while others meticulously adorned the path with whole blossoms for the procession to tread upon. It was a truly breathtaking spectacle.
The youth cheered with boundless enthusiasm, while tears of joy streamed down the faces of the elderly, for the moment they had long yearned for had finally come to fruition.
As the procession came to a stop before the cathedral's stairs, Stefan and his companions dismounted their steeds. They ascended the steps halfway, pausing to kneel before the Patriarch.
The crowd held its collective breath, anxiously observing the unfolding scene.
John, too, dismounted, and his soldiers, gracefully ascending the stairs, knelt beside him. He respectfully bowed before the Patriarch, taking his place beside him.
As though seeking approval for the ceremony to proceed, Emil and John exchanged bows, accompanied by warm smiles.
"Stefan Stoyanov, please step forward!" commanded Emil, prompting Stefan to approach.
Emil then bestowed his blessings upon Stefan, using both the staff in his hand and a cross-shaped hand gesture.
"Do you accept your responsibility as the pillars of Bulgaria and its people?"
"I do!"
"Then, by the authority vested in me by our Lord and Savior, you shall henceforth be known as the Despot of Bulgaria. Please take your seat upon this chair if you agree."
Emil gestured toward the prepared throne, and Stefan seated himself as a sign of his agreement. In response, Emil signaled his attendants to bring forward the crown, scepter, and orb.
First came the scepter, followed by the cross-encrusted orb. These items were initially granted to John as the co-emperor of the Byzantine Empire, before Emil entrusted them with his blessings to Stefan, who then held them with reverence.
Next in line was the crown, which was presented to John by an attendant. It had been blessed by the Patriarch and, with a slow and deliberate motion, was placed upon Stefan's head.
As this moment unfolded, the assembled crowd knelt in reverence as the crown securely rested upon Stefan's head. He then rose from the throne, holding the scepter in his left hand and the cross-encrusted orb in his right, facing the people of Bulgaria.
"My fellow countrymen and women, through the blessings of both yours and our Lord, I shall govern this land with equity and justice, just as our forebears did. There is no need for fear, for as long as my reign endures, I will safeguard this land, a trust placed upon me by our Lord and Savior, for all eternity."
"Long live Bulgaria!"
"Long live our Despot!"
Thus, the ceremony concluded, heralding the next phase: Stefan's selection of his companions and vassals.
Dmitriv assumed the esteemed role of Doux of Moesia, overseeing the northeastern expanse of the region. Constantia, with its capture attributed to his war-time efforts, became his fief.
Petar was appointed as the Bulgarian Grand Commander, a testament to his valor on the battlefield and his adept command of the army.
Simeon took on the mantle of Minister of Bulgaria, serving as an indispensable administrator throughout Stefan's reign.
A noble gesture followed, as Stefan appointed several loyal officers who had stood by him in times of adversity, including individuals like Ivan and Nikolai.
Nikolai the Elder, however, humbly declined his appointment, opting instead to serve as the Despot's personal knight—a choice that Stefan graciously accepted.
The ceremony concluded, giving way to another event, the grand feast.
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[Tsarevets' Palace Banquet Hall]
The recently renovated banquet hall buzzed with a harmonious fusion of melodies and whispered conversations. Enchanted by the vibrant ambiance, both nobles and soldiers were captivated, as musicians played on, elevating the festive spirit.
"To Bulgaria!"
"Long live Despot Stefan!"
"Long live His Highness, John VIII Palaiologos!"
The hall echoed with cheers and the melodious clinking of chalices. Seated at the head of the grand hall, Stefan was surrounded by esteemed guests and beloved family members. Stefan, too, raised his goblet high.
"To Bulgaria and eternal peace!"
The festive atmosphere grew even more electrifying. John, seated beside Stefan, sipped from his own cup, observing the jubilant gathering.
"Your Highness, it was your unwavering support that has brought us to this moment of joy and triumph."
Stefan graciously poured another round of wine into John's chalice, a meaningful gesture symbolizing their mutual respect and deep friendship.
"It was merely my duty," John replied with a warm yet humble smile.
"So, what's your next move?" Stefan inquired, focusing his gaze on the guest.
John pondered for a moment. "I haven't formulated any concrete plans yet."
"No plans? Is the assimilation of Bulgaria into your realm the culmination of your current strategy?"
"Yes, that, and the consolidation of our newly acquired territory."
"You've assumed the role of emperor in all but name. Your achievements surpass those of a mere co-emperor."
"Indeed," John replied, his thoughts drifting to the words spoken by his father, Manuel II, during the final of the Graeco-Roman Football tournament.
Indeed, he had no immediate plans beyond successfully integrating Bulgaria into the empire. He also empathized with the increased responsibilities now shouldered by Pavlos and Nikos due to recent events. John understood that he needed to ensure the smooth functioning of the empire before charting the course for his next endeavor.
Stefan's melancholic voice interrupted John's contemplation. "It's strange, isn't it?"
"What is?" John asked.
"Not long ago, I was a rebel, an orphan, and a criminal. Yet here I am, shouldering the responsibilities of ruling my people. It feels surreal, for some reason."
John followed Stefan's gaze to the merry guests, reveling in their drunken merriment, savoring the moment.
"You're right," John whispered to himself.
'It's the same for me.'
He had experienced a similar transformation, reborn as the heir to a declining empire after living as an ordinary individual on Earth. It was an inexplicable sensation.
Rebirth, ascension to the position of co-emperor, the arduous task of rebuilding the crumbling empire, and leading the army into battle—strangely, despite the lives he had taken and the horrors of war, John felt an unusual detachment.
He had lived as a modern man, shielded from such profound tragedies as war during his lifetime as John Rickett Marlone.
Yet, the gravity of his decisions, the power to dictate life and death, didn't evoke terror within him. It felt strangely natural.
As he reflected on this, John trembled inwardly, but he remained outwardly composed, concealing his inner turmoil even from Stefan, who remained unaware of his inner struggles.
"You know, Your Highness, I was filled with fear. The fear that this war might culminate in the demise of both myself and my people."
Stefan continued, a faint, appreciative smile gracing his lips,
"Yet, because of your willingness to risk your life in aiding our desperate cause, I find myself seated here today, right beside you. It's all thanks to you.
"..."
"Without you, my people would have been wiped from the face of this earth, and I would have never seen their joyful smiles again. In such a scenario, how could I ever face my father in heaven?
"..."
"I couldn't. I would willingly descend into hell for that."
Then, their eyes locked in a powerful gaze. John's deep brown eyes met Stefan's clear hazel ones, brimming with conviction, gratitude, and loyalty.
"For that, I am ready to dedicate myself to you and the empire. Let us unite to bring an end to the suffering that plagues the world."
The banquet hall gradually hushed, the only sound the fervent determination gleaming in Stefan's eyes. John and Stefan continued their intense eye contact, the moment stretching into the unknown, a bond forming.
As the feast extended into the night, Bulgaria's rebirth and the Empire's renewal intertwined at this pivotal moment, igniting a newfound ambition.
It was a spark that had lain dormant since Julius Caesar's time, only to be rekindled by his spiritual successor, John VIII Palaiologos, as he now held the destiny of the once-mighty Roman Empire in his hands.