In the autumn of 1446, on a beach in the Gothia region, southwest of the Tauris Peninsula, the 56-year-old Prince Alexius Gavras of Theodoro, dressed in plain white casual clothes, sat on a lounge chair accompanied by his family, calmly basking in the seaside sun.
This was one of the few pleasures the aging Prince enjoyed, besides appreciating classics, especially now that he couldn't even pick up a thick book.
Squinting at the sun slowly setting in the west, Alexius couldn't help but fall into memories of the past.
Fourteen years ago, after his eldest son Manuel ascended the throne and elevated the Principality to the Bosphorus Despotate, the title of Prince of Theodoro became a thing of the past.
However, with the tacit understanding between father and son, Alexius, who had faded from political affairs, continued to use this title for the rest of his life.
Thus, over these past ten-odd years, Alexius witnessed his son gradually transform from the Crown Prince of a tiny state into a ruler controlling both sides of the Black Sea, and then from a monarch encircling the Black Sea to an Emperor of the Roman Empire, leading the nation of Romans, which had already stepped into its coffin, to once again spread its wings and soar over this sea and land.
During this period, the Prince either leisurely enjoyed himself in various parts of Tauris or occasionally appeared to help his son stabilize the peninsula's rear.
It wasn't until everything had settled that he realized such incredible things, in his eyes, had truly been accomplished by his son, one by one.
Everything felt like a dream, but it had indeed happened, and it was truly his eldest son's doing.
Thinking of this, the elderly man couldn't help but look at his relatives surrounding him with a myriad of emotions, a genuinely contented smile on his face.
However, in contrast to the smiling Prince, his family members beside him did not joke and chat with him as they usually did; instead, their faces showed complex emotions and sadness, which they tried their best to conceal.
He remembered that he, already old, had become much weaker last winter due to a cold.
After being in this state for over half a year, Alexius felt his final moments approaching, so he sent a message to his son, who was managing affairs in Constantinople, expressing his wish to see his son and grandchildren one last time.
As a result, upon receiving the letter, his son brought his wife and children back to Mangup City, which they had long been separated from, within just three days, to bid their final farewells to their father or grandfather, the current head of the Gavras Family.
"You really are... for Holy Mother Mary's sake, don't look so downcast," he said, stroking his beard, his smile growing softer and more helpless as he couldn't bear to see the expressions on his wife and grandchildren's faces after returning from his memories.
"Come, bask in the seaside sun and talk about happy things with your father or grandfather."
After growing old, the Prince's personality had also changed a lot; it was hard to imagine that more than twenty years ago, he had aggressively used force against the Latins, forcing them to withdraw from the southwestern coast they occupied.
Comparing twenty years ago to now, and seeing his father's expression, his eldest son Manuel wanted to say something, but the other party stopped him with a glance, "My child, there's no need for that."
Understanding his father's meaning, the Basileus and his wife exchanged a look, then encouraged their children to go forward and get closer to their grandfather and their grandmother, who had been helping their grandfather since the beginning.
Receiving their parents' hint, the Prince's granddaughter and his eldest and second sons, either cautiously or boldly, squeezed in front of their grandparents, chattering about what they had seen and heard since moving to Constantinople.
Clearly, the relationship within this family was genuinely honest and rare compared to other noble families of that era.
At first, the three children were a bit reserved due to the atmosphere, but after talking with their grandfather, who had always been kind to them, for a while, they gradually relaxed.
"Grandpa, Grandma, the library in Constantinople and the university ruins there have so many books! Especially those ancient biographies."
"Hahaha, did little Justia find a young man she likes under the gaze of the Holy Father?"
"No, Holy Mother Mary, I feel like those around my age and younger are all fools not as smart as father, I'd rather read the biography Princess Anna wrote for her father a few hundred years ago a few more times."
"This... really? That would be good news."
"Grandpa, and me, I'm different from my sister, I want to become an Emperor like Dad, no, even more amazing than Dad."
"Hahaha, good.
Because our little Theodore truly has an imperial throne to inherit."
"Grandpa..."
"Oh, it's little Marcus.
Come, let Grandpa hug you..."
Seeing this warm scene of interaction between grandfather and grandchildren, Manuel exchanged a glance with his wife Barbara, who stood beside him, and looking at their newborn youngest son Alexander, whom she held, he also smiled, a rare sight.
But there is no perpetual feast in this world; thinking of this, Manuel's smile quickly faded.
Just as he had thought, as the sun gradually approached the horizon, the elderly Prince's body became increasingly weak.
By this time, having mentally prepared himself, he waved his hand helplessly, signaling his grandchildren to return to their parents' side.
At this moment, Manuel finally stepped forward to stand by his father's side, and following the Prince's wishes, he had his wife and children return to the Gavras Family's mansion in Mangup first, while he stayed behind, accompanying his dying father along with his mother, Zoe Komnenos.
After his mother bid farewell to his father, the father and son remained silent for a long time.
After a long while, Manuel finally broke their silence.
"Father, after I became Basileus, I wrote to you asking you to live in Constantinople; why did you always refuse?"
This question was somewhat of a conversation starter, and Manuel understood the general reason in his heart.
However, the Prince still took up his son's words, "I am homesick; while Constantinople is good, I still prefer the scenery north of the Black Sea."
"I know," Manuel looked at the setting sun gradually sinking into the sea, narrowing his eyes, "and it's for this reason that you chose to stay in your old home after fourteen years ago, isn't it?"
"That's right," the Prince did not deny his son's statement, then immediately asked, "Speaking of which, I didn't even see Isaac today."
"Should I pull him out of the monastery?"
"No need, I already saw him a few days ago.
But Manuel, even after all these years, you still haven't forgiven your brother."
"Father, you didn't ask those granduncles to return from Moscow either."
"Hahaha, that's true."
With the floodgates of conversation open, the father and son talked freely.
But during this time, Manuel constantly glanced towards the setting sun sinking into the western sea.
As if understanding his son's inner thoughts, the Prince, before his departure, smiled at him with unusual openness: "There's no need to feel sad for this old body of mine, my child."
The Prince smiled, but his voice grew increasingly faint, just like the gradually setting sun.
"Now is your era, Manuel; just assume I've gone to live in heaven first."
"My era?"
Hearing his father's words, something seemed to stir within Manuel.
After a moment, having composed himself, he finally lowered his head and softly said goodbye: "Father, farewell."
"Farewell, my child."
Feeling relieved, Prince Alexius heard these words, finally closed his eyes, and stopped breathing before the sunset was completely swallowed by the sea.
"Manuel..." After her husband breathed his last, Zoe, seeing her son turn his back to the path they had come from, also stood up, "Do you want to stay here a bit longer?"
"Yes," Manuel nodded, feeling he needed to be alone on this beach for a while.
"Mother, thank you."
"Alright, I'll go call people to take care of your father's funeral," Zoe, keenly sensing her son's emotions, sighed and left, deliberately leaving Manuel alone to compose himself.
On the evening of September 31, 1446, Manuel Gavras's father, Prince Alexius Gavras of Theodoro, passed away at Balaklava Shoals in Mangup, at the age of 56.