Portugal

3,843 years since initial death
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It was a calm Autumn afternoon in 1325, Portugal.

At the time, Milton Settler had arrived from Ireland, wanting to visit the far western and Spanish side of Europe again. Upon hearing of the recent construction of Portugal's first university, he traveled to the country's largest city, Lisbon.

After visiting the university and inspecting the cracked stone walls surrounding the city, he reached the coastline. After a brief verbal argument with a scholar on whether the world was a sphere or a seven-layered ziggurat, Milton took a good look at the sea to calculate his measurements. But it wouldn't be long before everything changed there.

Many commoners spotted the limp and frail body of a woman approach the shore, her figure resting atop a single wooden plank that could barely support her. Milton at first assumed it was driftwood, until she got closer and the scene became all the more obvious. From the looks of it, she was a survivor of a capsized ship. But something seemed off about her. Her lack of any equipment or even clothing hinted at a darker journey, followed by the fact that only her lower body was slightly covered in torn, wet rags. 

It seemed she wasn't from here, as if she was a foreigner. It wasn't due to her appearance and slightly tanner skin tone. Rather, upon discovering she was alive, everyone quickly learned she had no concept of any spoken language around the world. Portuguese, English, Spanish, Latin; not even French. Milton tried to speak a few words of Mandarin that he remembers, and yielded no results. 

The only thing she admitted to knowing in life was her own name, as it was the only word she could speak after being gestured repeatedly on how to name yourself through various hand signals.

She called herself Ah-wee-lick. It was an uncommon name, unheard of before on this side of the world. When given ink and parchment, everything she wrote looked incoherent and indescribable. Everything resembled a cube-shaped drawing with faces and patterns. It reminded him of his ancient hieroglyphics, only larger and far more unorganized. 

Milton wanted to learn more about her, most specifically, her origins. The idea of a foreigner that may have arrived from a new land fascinated him, and she may be the only living proof of it. But he soon realized she may simply be mentally ill. Soon after rescuing her from the raft, she surprisingly regained her strength and stamina far quicker than normal. However, the only thing that didn't recover was her own mind. He reached the conclusion she was experiencing serious levels of trauma after surviving a terrible journey across very rough seas.

With no battles to fight, no political conflicts to take sides in, and no enemies to look out for; he was determined to look over her and reconnect her with society. With all the time in the world at his disposal, he spent it all to help the woman. But it was not simply out of respect or his passion for learning, it was because he felt a connection with her.

He dedicated his time to teach her English, and to write properly. By the time she could gain some form of basic understanding, it's when she was able to spell her own name out instead of speaking it. Awilix was her name, and it only added to her mysterious past. Furthermore, every time she was forced to mention it, she appeared extremely uncomfortable. 

Given his experience in renaming himself, he decided to help with her new name. His first thought was Avelic or Aelic. But her furious head shakes of disapproval told him she needed something as opposite as possible from her origins. 

After many unsuccessful name changes, they finally settled on Violet. She reminded Milton of an Ancient Roman deity, Venus, the Goddess of Beauty. He wanted her name to be somewhat close to Venus, hence him choosing the name Violet. She seemed happy with it. Anything to help her forget her past name.

In a few years time, she was finally normal to societal standards. Although she never talked about her past, she thanked Milton for his kindness before leaving to live her new life alone despite his initial objections. He found it rude that she'd abandon him after everything he did, so he followed her in secrecy to see where she would go. He had more than enough time to spare, so he often disguised himself, hid in the trees, or scouted from rooftops.

Their travels led to Madrid, where it appeared she had decided to reside there. It was at that point that Milton gave up. His intentions turned from kindness and curiosity to jealousy. This was a waste of his infinite time, and he decided to leave her be, feeling disappointed he'll never know who she truly is. 

However, it seemed fate had a different idea. 

A 7.1 magnitude earthquake struck Italy, and despite the initial quake occurring in Northern Italy, its tremors were felt across the entirety of Europe. Milton felt the ground shake all the way in Spain, riding on horseback. He was dozing off, casually leaning against his mount. When the tremor was felt, it caught him off guard. The sudden change alerted the horse as it stood on its hind hooves. Milton barely had time to wake up and realize what happened before he fell.

His horse began to gallop in circles, trampling him in the process before escaping into the horizon. His personal blade was still attached to the horse, but it was long gone by now. All he had was a satchel that dropped from the horse containing whatever money and food he had left, and of course, his wooden staff attached to his back.

Lost, alone and in need of a new sword, his closest option was Madrid. That's when a devilish idea entered his mind. Last he had seen of Violet, she was at a blacksmith. That gave him the perfect excuse he needed. He returned and made his presence known, asking for the cheapest sword available. When he turned to his side, he met the woman's eyes and pretended to be at a lost of words.

His plan worked against all odds, and he found himself staying within the city walls. Each day, he met with Violet and conversed on everything. It's when he found himself falling in love again, and his deep desire at uncovering the truth for the sake of knowledge.

A few months passed before celebrating their engagement, leading to their wedding within the kingdom's walls. They lived with each other in a fine home, near the heart of the city. When the topic of bearing children arose, Violet refused. No matter how many times Milton would mention it, she never accepted it. Although she was more than willing to act dominant and fulfill both of their desires, she would never give birth to a child.

However, it didn't seem to matter as the plague had reached Madrid by this point. Apart from its name, the 'Pestilence', others would call it the Black Death. But one thing was agreed upon. It was a Bubonic Plague.

With the massive earthquake in Italy, the Great Famine and the plague spreading chaos around Europe and parts of Asia, many people linked these events to the Biblical Apocalypse. It was the end of the world, and despite humanity crumbling and succumbing to their chaotic nature, Milton was completely fine with it. Personally, he didn't care what happened to the world at this rate. But when he was reminded of family, his worries returned.

Over the years, his multiple families have been kept close. While he did make hundreds, and even thousands of friends along his adventures, the only ones he truly kept in the center of his heart were his actual families. Ada, Aisha, Camilla and Felix were among the first, but not the last that he'll feel this way towards. Several other names still held significant meaning to him, names of friends he had lived with through some of his most memorable adventures.

But unlike his past self, he wasn't going to cry about it again. He accepted his curse and fate for the time being. When Violet inevitably dies, he'll mourn her loss and move on to repeat it all over again.

Now, in the present, they remained together indoors, only a lit candle helped illuminate the room. The rain started to pour harder outside, producing a relaxing ambience of rainfall crashing against the walls that added to the moment of brief silence.

"Where do you wish to travel when this plague comes to an end?" Violet broke the silence, holding on to Milton's hand in bed.

"Ireland." His answer came quick. "It's my favorite nation that I'll never grow tired of. Afterwards, there's some pyramids I have to show you." His smirk soon faded away when he was interrupted. 

"No pyramids. What else?" 

He paused, thinking over his list. "I can show you any part of Europe, though we could explore other parts of the world. There's Alkebulan for instance, that's a place I've yet to fully embark in. I believe they call it Africa now. Or we can head west to Zhongguo. It's been ages, and I doubt anyone would recognize me and execute me for treason." The look on Violet's face appeared worried and confused, causing him to chuckle. "A joke, of course. We can skip that place and see Nihon instead, the land of the rising sun."

"How do you know of all these countries?" She asked, leaning closer towards him and resting against his shoulder. 

"I've lived too long." He smiled softly, concealing the pain deep within his lips. 

Suddenly, Violet laughed. "I'm sure you have, my sweet prince."

"Yes, I'm immortal."

Stillness. Both of their eyes were locked with one another. Neither of them smiled. Milton tried his best not to crack, feeling a sudden pressure. Violet blinked, and she raised her hand to tap his nose. 

"You are a funny man." She stood up, leaving him seated alone.

"Least I'm making someone smile." He followed her, stretching his arms in the process.

When he walked past her, his eyes darted towards a bundle of paper sitting atop a desk. The first page had a list of English letters forming the alphabet, and right below it were several of those hieroglyphics. 

Violet stood beside him and commented on his observation. "What do you think? Hasn't my writing improved? I'm quite proud of my literacy and vocabulary now." 

Milton on the other hand sighed. He pointed towards the bottom half of the page. "There it is again. What are these scribbles of yours? I see two patterned eggs inside a cube, a short-haired head, I think that's a rabbit; what is all this?" 

"They're," she paused suspiciously long, "they're references I use to help me remember each English letter."

She crossed her arms and walked away before he could ask another question. Every time she's instructed to write something, she first begins by drawing these strange symbols. He couldn't tell if she made it up, or if she was taught that by a foreign community.

The rest of the night was peaceful, and by morning, the rain had stopped. The sun shined across the valleys, it made it look as if there was still hope left in this world. A poet named Petrarch had coined the term 'Dark Ages', which was a fitting title for the time being.

Despite the sun shining on a brand new day, the events remained the same. Deaths continued to rise over the country, the plague rampaged across half the world. Tens of millions died already, cities fell into anarchy, leaders were unable to control their people, and families were left devastated by loss. The Great Famine didn't help either. If the plague didn't kill you, starvation and poverty would.

Each day presented its own challenges and obstacles for them to overcome. Rats infested the homes, sneaking through holes and cracks in the walls. Bodies were accumulating in the city, even a few doctors caught the disease and were added to the list of deaths.

Life was getting harder, hope was fading away, and each day would end with barely any food at all. The Dark Ages really was an accurate name.

They lived through these difficulties for a month, always staying by each other's side, hoping for it all to end. Often, they would make the most out of their situations. Milton had a lute by him, playing soft tunes during the night. Violet shared fantasy stories that she'd gotten ideas for; it inspired her to become a writer.

For some time, things were under control. They were able to secure a steady flow of resources and food. Cases were beginning to decrease slightly and the city was finally on the path of recovery. But the same could not be said for the rest of the world as the plague had driven humanity to the brink of destruction. Even with Madrid slightly recovering, it was still incredibly dangerous as deaths were still on the rise.

Walking down the road with a large box in hand, Milton was excited to return home. He had been able to strike a deal with a merchant, securing enough food to last them a week or two. They already had enough food and supplies at home, and this would finally relieve their worries for a while.

His house was straight ahead, it was mildly annoying to walk with half of his vision obscured by his mask and hood but it was for their own safety. The crate in his hands was already heavy enough, but he was close enough to make it without stopping for a break.

As he got closer, he could hear the sounds of a crowd nearby. There weren't any planned announcements, and no bells had rung to alert the people. However, just in the far distance, he could make out the slight flow of smoke rising in the air.

It was far worse than he could ever possibly imagined.

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Historical Notes:

As most parts of Europe, Portugal was heavily affected by the Black Death, reaching its peak in 1348 - 49.

Portugal has witnessed hundreds of massive conflicts and wars, such as the infamous Battle of Ourique in 1139. Shortly before the battle, the Portuguese King, Afonso Henriques, was met with a dream in which God spoke to him. He was told there would be a divine intervention in his favor if he follows his orders.

Henriques soon found the clouds in the sky shift and reveal a ray of light in the shape of a cross in which Jesus Christ spoke to him directly. Jesus told him that he would reign victorious. The next day, Henriques defeated the Muslim Almoravids in battle just as he was told.

Another significant event was the Siege of Lisbon in 1147 that earned Portugal complete and definitive control over Lisbon while simultaneously eradicating the opposing Moorish people. 20,000 men, aided by the Crusaders overtook the city, defended by 15,000 Moorish soldiers.

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