Chapter 0

Chapter 0

Prologue

It had been a truly long time since the last time he had a nightmare. The past that he thought he had completely forgotten and overcame. No, it was now a terrible memory before the return, not even the past.

“Gasp.”

The young man, who woke up soaked in sweat, realized that the white silk that the tailor and artisans had worked hard to prepare was wet. His pupils shook in his blue eyes, and his embarrassed hands tangled golden hair that resembled the brilliant sun. The wet silk cloth stuck to his body felt really bloody to the touch.

“Ha… I had a dream. That dream.”

When was the last time he had had that nightmare? He could not even remember. It was a terrible experience from when he was only 11 years old. It was ten years ago. Whenever he felt like he had forgotten, it came back to put a clear image in his head.

“Why? I’ve already overturned the future, and I’ve pioneered my own destiny. Are you saying there’s still something missing?”

He asked a question without knowing who he was talking to. Of course, there was no reason for an answer to come. Should he ask God? But the officials had shaken their heads, even shouted that it was disrespectful.

[Can a man who has lost sight by having his eyeballs stabbed return to normal with divine intervention?]

[Can you move against the fate that has already passed?]

The answer they gave him, who was suffering from nightmares, was insignificant.

[You cannot restore what has been destroyed, nor can you plant what has been pulled out back into its original state.]

[To go against fate does not fit the will of the Creator.]

“Well, what about me? You’re saying I’m a ghost here? Does sending an eight-year-old child, who was still unable to discern right from left, as an exiled Emperor of the Eastern Roman Empire fits the will of the one who created everything?”

Choking, the young man once again cried out to the wall where there was no answer in return.

“Is it fair to take away my sight and lock me in prison after four years?”

While expressing his frustration toward the air, the cold sweat that flowed all over his body died down. As his body trembled in the chilly mood, Laskarislil jumped out of his bed. He took out his dark purple cape and put it on.

“This… I’m sure I heard there was a dedication ceremony for the church mural this morning, tss.”

Dizzy, he suddenly came to his senses and tripped slightly. However, his 21-year-old’s fresh athleticism quickly balanced his shaky body.

Fwoosh!

Laskaris lit a candlestick with candles burned to the very end in a corner of the room. He came out into the chilly corridor of the church. The soft sound of the door closing did not wake up the sleeping guards.

Thud.

His dark purple silk flowing refreshingly, the young Emperor looked at the freshly completed mural on the wall of the church. He only had a very narrow field of view, with sparks flying. In the middle of it was a mosaic depicting a very young child.

“loannes, Doukas Vatatzes, Laskaris.”

That name was attached to the mosaic of the kid. The young man, who raised his hand and examined it with a strange look for a while, continued to sweep his hand toward the other wall.

“The failure of the monasteries.”

A boy holding a sword and standing tall among a group of soldiers. Beneath them were people groaning, depicted as black demons. He glanced for a moment and passed by again. New scenes were revealed one after another in his narrow field of view. Finally, the last section. The young man’s clear voice read the sentences one after another.

“The Holy Emperor’s City, Constantinople! Take off the dirt of the Crusaders and see the light of purification. Now you are the capital of the Eastern Roman Empire again!”

“He is in the middle of the past and the future.”

“He creates order without being bound by order.”

By the end of the section, the main character of the painting, who was just a child, had become huge. His arms were facing up to the sky, holding a sword in one hand and a staff in the other.

“Come from the dark, Joshua of our time. Lead us out of the darkness.”

It was the phrase he ordered, but Laskaris felt that his eyes were getting moist again as he uttered these words.

“Oh, this is dust, just dust.”

The 21-year-old Laskaris, who survived healthily and successfully, who changed not only himself but also the fate of the Empire, said so, although he did not know to who he was making such excuses.

Trauma would not be able to knock him down. There would be no end to the fight, but at least Laskaris could stand tall.

“It was around this time. Fate that did not show any mercy came upon us.”

Laskaris stepped into a reminiscence in the mosaic with a candlestick dripping down. 10 years ago, he had walked barefoot on a road full of snow. Then, as he suddenly looked up, he saw a remote palace buried in his eyes.

“It was in December 1261 at Christmas, maybe a gift for me was just coming in.”

Ignoring the Emperor with his bare feet and purple silk, German mercenaries were rushing into this lonely palace in his memory. Laskaris, who watched the scene with an indifferent glance, immediately caught his gaze.

“Laskaris, long time no see.”

The young boy Emperor, looking out into the air with his chin on the window. Right before he fell into hell, he was himself. This scary world of self-objectification.

“Whoa. I don’t like it, but my feet keep moving in.”

As if possessed by something, Laskaris followed into the building toward the fate waiting for his young self. It was the moment when the whole story began.

– Continue for the next episode –

TL notes

[1] John IV Laskaris