Later that evening, at John's request, Pavlos and Nikos, accompanied by Demetrius, arrived to the 'shop,' while John and Ivar had arrived earlier, be seated, waiting for the trio after dealing with Anna's situation at the hospital earlier that afternoon.
Ivar, who was unfamiliar with the 'shop,' was visibly surprised by what he encountered inside.
From the exterior, it appeared as an unassuming shop, concealing its true identity underneath, which Ivar initially assumed to be a Thieves' Guild hideout.
John then proceeded to explain the situation to Ivar, emphasizing the need for secrecy and instructing him to avoid drawing any undue attention to the place when he left the compound.
"It seems you've arrived ahead of us, Your Highness," Pavlos, the seasoned advisor observed, his gaze briefly acknowledging Ivar's presence.
"I brought him along to ensure he fully comprehends the situation we're facing here," John replied. However, his expression had remained stoic since his arrival, a detail that did not escape the notice of the experienced advisor and Nikos.
Having already received a thorough account of the situation from Demetrius, both Pavlos and Nikos understood the gravity of their co-emperor's predicament.
No one would find joy in their loved ones being entangled in a tragedy, and John was no exception. After all, he was human, just like them.
"Since all of us are already here, let us begin." John begins.
"First, the assignment that I gave to you both yesterday, any progress?"
John inquired while his eyes directed at both Pavlos and Nikos. The first to respond was Nikos, the Eparch of Constantinople, his expression were grave.
"I've gathered enough information, and as you've feared, the spread had already began to spill over towards us." he paused, but there were no response from John, as if awaiting him to explain it further, which he then did.
"The merchants from the east reported that the region surrounding the Caucasus Mountain had already felt the spread encroaching their lands. The Golden Horde were hit the hardest, reported deaths were in the tens of thousands since the spread happened."
"In the west, conflicting reports emerged; some claimed that the plague had already reached Moldavia, while others alleged that the Polish-Lithuanian Grand Duke was infected. The veracity of these reports remained uncertain, given the scarcity of information. However, based on this, I assumed that the plague had breached the borders of both nations."
Nikos concluded his report, and John merely nodded in response, as the reports merely confirmed his expectations. It was then Pavlos's turn to deliver his findings.
"As per your Highness's orders, I've gathered intelligence regarding the bishops who opposed you two days ago. It appears they have connections to the imperial nobility that seeks to undermine your legitimacy. They are affiliated with Doux Kydones's faction."
Upon hearing this, John clenched his teeth, but it was a development he had anticipated.
In the Byzantine court, it had become synonymous that court intrigue led to division and fracture within the empire. Whether in its glory, decline, or eventual fall, this persistent ailment remained one of the key reasons behind the empire's struggles.
Even after the purges of nearly a decade ago during the previous Eparch's exposure of betrayal, these individuals persisted, eluding eradication by using excuses such as claiming that the imperial family abused their royal prerogatives to eliminate their opponents while using the people as shields for their malevolent intentions.
Doux Kydones was one of these individuals.
As the second most senior doux after Theodore Kantakouzenos, the Grand Doux, Kydones was unlike Theodore in terms of loyalty.
Originally not of noble descent, Kydones was brought into the court by John's grandfather, John V Palaiologos, as the chief secretary, commonly referred to as 'Protonotarios' at the time due to his exceptional administrative talent.
However, titles often breed ambition.
Kydones, in his youth, was known as a ruthless administrator who employed intimidation tactics to coerce his opponents into submission, thus increasing his influence within the imperial court and undermining the emperor's authority.
Even while recognizing this, John's grandfather could do little to halt the ascent of this ambitious man.
By the time he recognized the treacherous nature of Kydones, it was too late to eliminate the threat, akin to trying to strike a snake's head with a club when it had already constricted its grip around his neck.
During the previous Ottoman assault on the capital, Kydones vehemently opposed Manuel II's policy of non-aggression, opting instead for a direct confrontation, despite being well aware of the empire's inability to mount any effective resistance.
His influence continued to grow while the Palaiologans waned, and he even posed a threat to the throne itself.
The incident with the previous Eparch of Constantinople, Vernon, however, temporarily restrained his growing influence, as he skillfully shifted the blame onto his subordinates rather than himself to survive the purge.
"What about the patriarch? Is he also associated with the doux?" John inquired, his gaze piercing.
"I don't believe so. Patriarch Iosef has no direct affiliation with the doux, but he has, to some extent, also fallen victim to the doux,"
Pavlos replied, shaking his head as he dismissed any notion of Patriarch Iosef's involvement with Doux Kydones.
While John found some relief in this information, he remained far from fully convinced. He couldn't entirely absolve the patriarch of any wrongdoing in this complex situation.
He understood that, much like the authoritative Pope of the Catholic Church, the Patriarch of the Orthodox Church was not fundamentally different.
In terms of their hierarchical structure, they occupied a position just beneath the emperor, serving as symbols of faith within the empire.
Although they lacked direct administrative power to sway the emperor's decisions, their moral authority held substantial influence.
Though not identical in origin and agendas, both the Orthodox Church and Doux Kydones played pivotal roles in the empire's decision-making process.
To draw an analogy, they were like two-headed snakes, sharing one body, instinctually similar but with differing agendas.
Throughout history, religion had played a significant role in shaping civilizations.
This continued until the Age of Enlightenment, a time when the world transitioned into a more balanced power structure, relegating religion to a secondary role while governmental bodies held the primary authority.
This shift effectively dismantled long-held religious prerogatives that had bound civilizations and their people for centuries.
The catalyst for this transformation was undoubtedly the Age of Reformation, during which the Catholic Church, under the pretext of eliminating dissent against itself and the Pope, waged wars against those who deviated from its doctrines, namely the Protestants.
Of course, the ones who suffered the most were the common folk, who had committed no wrongdoing but nevertheless perished due to the unrelenting persecutions by members of the same faith, all in the name of adhering to the "One True Church."
While this historical narrative was not unique for its time, it undeniably defined the extent to which religion could control the world's narrative and influence the direction of nations that recognized its authority as they plotted their future.
This period marked the emergence of secularism and humanism, a time when reason began to shine amidst the darkness of religious fanaticism that seemed to assert its dominance over the world based solely on its belief system.
Naturally, this "belief system" was fundamentally human in origin rather than divine, as humans, by nature, could be driven by greed and ambition to the point of corrupting their own beliefs for personal gain.
John, observing this precarious situation, felt a sense of dismay. Without placing the blame solely on one side or the other, he couldn't help but feel powerless to change the era in which he found himself.
Despite his position as the nation's leader, he lacked the personal influence necessary to combat the rampant corruption, ambition, and greed that pervaded the landscape.
"Although the patriarch may not be entirely blameless himself, my gut tells me that they both harbor no favor for Your Highness, and on this point, I concur," Pavlos declared with a hint of disdain in his crackling, elderly voice.
"I appreciate your insight, dear Pavlos," John replied wryly.
"It's impressive that both of you have deduced this much in the limited time we've had and this sudden meeting tonight," John continued, referring to both Pavlos and Nikos. He then shifted his focus.
"However, our primary agenda is indeed tied to the reports presented by Nikos earlier. If the plague has already spread to such an extent, and if this information holds true, then time is of the essence. I don't care if the church or the nobles oppose me, but endangering the lives of the people is absolutely unacceptable."
As John emphasized these points, he slammed his fist on the table where they were gathered. His expression grew even more serious.
"And now, I am on the brink of losing someone I hold dear, someone teetering on the edge of life and death. I insist that we find a solution. This marks the beginning of 'another war,' of which I will henceforth declare."
At the mention of declaring another war especially against the undefeatable 'Black Death', the assembled members' reactions were nothing short of astonishing, with Ibrahim displaying the most fervent response.
"Master, we have made little progress in combatting the plague; this endeavor appears highly impractical—"
"But haven't we made some headway, Ibrahim?"
A heavy silence settled in the underground chamber, leaving Ivar somewhat out of place, occasionally scratching his head as he pondered his presence.
"That's true, but considering our current limitations and resources, attempting to cure a malady that seems akin to a divine curse is a highly risky endeavor," Ibrahim lamented, his tone respectful yet filled with concern.
"Given these circumstances, without ample time, we cannot, and I emphasize, cannot directly confront the plague at this juncture. While what happened to Her Highness is unfortunate, it's a natural part of life..."
"Are you suggesting we simply resign ourselves to wait for affliction as well? If that's the extent of our options, I'd rather meet my end by the sword than succumb to some divine curse."
"Your Highness, while bravery is appreciated, there are times when we must concede as well. I heard your concerns from the emperor himself this morning, and I agree that we are not resigning but buying time," Pavlos interjected, aligning his sentiments with Ibrahim.
Murmurs from the other alchemists echoed sentiments more in line with Ibrahim's perspective than John's. However, one alchemist, younger than the rest and Ibrahim's apprentice, unexpectedly sided with John.
"Your Highness, I agree with you that we should fight, and I will help you if others don't," Fatah, Ibrahim's apprentice, declared with determination. Ibrahim tried to scold him, but John intervened.
"Fatah, was it?" John asked.
"Indeed, I'm Fatah Al-Alamin, my teacher's apprentice. I'm glad you remembered me," Fatah responded with evident enthusiasm.
"That I should, Sir Fatah. If your conviction is true, how then would you help me?"
"I have already developed a cure, but..." Fatah hesitated, glancing at his master with fear before continuing, "I don't know if it's satisfactory or effective."
John was momentarily taken aback. "Bold words! You are but a young one! Creating a plague cure is not something an inexperienced individual like you can accomplish!"
"Indeed, and I believe that 'cure' of yours is nothing but a worthless concoction!" Other alchemists joined in, unable to accept that a young upstart like Fatah could achieve what had eluded them.
Even Ibrahim found it incredulous, but he was more enraged by his colleagues' insults toward his apprentice than toward Fatah himself.
"By Allah's curses, you try to insult me as well, you incompetent fools!"
The room devolved into a tumultuous war of insults between the Middle Eastern alchemists and the Greek alchemists, with both sides hurling barbs at each other.
"Silence!" John's anger was palpable. "If only you had as much vigor to insult one another as you do to find a solution, we might have already solved the problem."
His reprimand caused each of the alchemists to hang their heads in shame. He then composed himself, facing the young boy,
"Explain yourself, you claim to have a cure? What do you mean?"
"Well... the moment you assigned that task to all of us, I have tirelessly tried to develop the 'antibiotic'. The results are promising despite the lack of test subjects, but I believe that it works," Fatah enthusiastically replied, his excited broken Greek accent reverberated.
"Don't make unfounded claims, boy; those are dangerous words," Ibrahim whispered to Fatah, trying to reprimand him.
John, however, half-believing and caressing his chin as he pondered, responded, "I have to agree with your master, young Sir Fatah. Simply concocting a cure is not easy, especially at your age. Notwithstanding its effectiveness, I must see it to believe it. Given your confidence, how will you proceed?"
John inquired, testing the conviction of the young alchemist.
"If you can provide me with the subjects right away, we can test the effectiveness of my cure. Your Highness, I can assure you it doesn't lead to any adverse consequences since I've tested it on myself."
Upon hearing this, the other alchemists exchanged knowing glances, subtly conveying their skepticism. "He tested it on himself? Who would believe that? He wasn't even infected."
However, John and Ibrahim were taken aback, and Ibrahim, in particular, was more concerned than surprised.
"What did you do? You tested it on yourself? Are you out of your mind? You're not even infected."
"I did indeed, Master. In fact, I contracted the disease five days ago when I visited the pier."
"What!" Ibrahim exclaimed in disbelief, unable to trust his ears. If his apprentice had fallen ill, then why was he still healthy?
"Don't lie. The symptoms don't usually manifest right after contracting the disease. I find it hard to believe you. What were you even doing at the pier?"
"Well... I'm not entirely sure about that, but I did contract the disease. Initially, it was a sudden tightness in my chest, and I thought it was just a passing discomfort. However, it worsened over time. It took me three days to realize I had the disease."
Fatah explained earnestly, his sincerity apparent in his voice.
"Impossible—wait, was that the reason you didn't show up two nights ago?" Ibrahim began to scold but suddenly realized something.
"Yes, I was unwell and afraid of putting everyone at risk, so I isolated myself in a less populated area. It was during this time that I tested my cure. It was a do-or-die situation. By Allah, my words are true, Master. I was even prepared to die. Yet, here I am, alive, thanks to my concoction."
"Even so, you should have informed me first, and I'm still unsure about the validity of your claims," Ibrahim stuttered, torn between belief and doubt.
John, who had been listening attentively, decided to seek further clarification from Fatah.
"About your cure, why haven't I heard about it from your Master?"
"That—"
"Let me explain, Your Excellency. This inexperienced apprentice of mine presented his concoction to me, which I dismissed at the time. I didn't think this young man could achieve what his senior alchemists could, so I didn't include it in our research."
Ibrahim clarified, and Fatah, feeling a bit embarrassed, added, "That's also why I went to the pier, Your Highness. I was disheartened and ended up venting my frustrations at the sea and... my Master, ahem..."
Hearing that, Ibrahim tried to knock his apprentice's head but held back his hand.
"*Sigh* if what you said is true, then I have to see it for myself...and bring me your reports so I can validate this cure of yours..."
John conceded, to believe, he had to see. Hearing that, joy flashed in the young Fatah's eyes.
"I can do that, Your Highness. Please follow me."
He excitedly invited John, who then followed together with the skeptical alchemists, who still harbored some disdain towards the young boy who they believed to be still wet behind his ears.