Theodora’s Rebuke
Prose
Don’t you dare flee, said she. Yes, the palace walls are crumbling and the great city is ablaze. But retreat cravenly into the cold safety of nothingness, and your destined greatness will be forfeit.
Your glorious victories unrealized, your wondrous monuments unbuilt. Mere flotsam in the ocean of history, a dying and dilapidated memory.
Take courage, now. There is hope, yet, for wounded flesh but a besieged soul has no defender. Stride barefoot and bold on the serrated edge of fate, bleed out timorous temptations of surrender.
Resist, tonight, the rampaging mobs and immortality shall be yours. From the smoldering debris of Hagia Sophia, your legacy shall be forged.
Be an author of destiny, not a prisoner of circumstance. Snatch dawn from the bosom of darkness, woo the Goddess Aurora.
And, maybe then, my Emperor, you will be a Justinian, worthy of a Theodora.
