Osman II: Rebirth of a Dynasty

I want to express my heartfelt gratitude to all of you for your incredible support and encouragement. The Power Stones you've sent are not just a reward but also a huge source of motivation for me to continue this journey.

Special thanks to:

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Your enthusiasm and love for the story inspire me every day to push the boundaries of Osman II's journey. Knowing that you enjoy this tale of justice and reform gives me even greater passion to bring it to life.

Thank you for being an amazing part of this journey. Let's explore even more of Osman II's world together in the chapters to come!

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When we reached the Crimean Khanate palace, the tired hoofbeats of our horses echoed through the vast courtyard. The palace was unlike anything I had ever seen before. Pools in the garden, stone pathways, colorful blooming flowers, and grand doors adorned with delicate carvings dazzled my eyes. After the simple and modest life of our village, this was a whole new world.

The courier dismounted and handed his reins to an attendant. Turning to me, he said sternly, "Wait here. Don't wander around and get yourself into trouble." I nodded and moved to a corner to stay out of the way.

Sitting on the edge of the courtyard, I began to take in my surroundings. Men in ornate turbans strode through the gardens with a serious air. By the fountain, women filled intricately designed pitchers, their movements graceful, as the scent of the garden's flowers filled the air. After a while, a large copper lantern mounted on marble columns caught my attention. The sunlight danced on its intricate motifs, making it seem almost magical.

Meanwhile, the courier approached the great hall where the Khan resided. The guards at the door scrutinized him before allowing him inside. He did not return for a long time, leaving me to marvel at the splendor of the palace.

Finally, the doors opened, and the courier hurried back into the courtyard, his eyes scanning the area. "Yahya! Yahya, where are you?" he called out.

Startled, I jumped to my feet and ran toward him. "Here, Cihan Abi," I said, panting.

Cihan Abi looked me over and shook his head, his expression firm but warm. "What did I tell you? Don't stare too much—this isn't a playground," he warned.

I couldn't help my curiosity. "What did the Khan say? Will revenge be taken for places like our village?"

Cihan Abi took a deep breath. "The Khan listened carefully to the Sultan's message. Our Sultan commands the Tatars to raid Polish lands and exact revenge on those scoundrels. The Khan seems inclined to follow this order. But make no mistake, this won't be easy. Poland is a formidable enemy."

His words stirred a mix of fear and strange relief within me. At least I knew that what happened to our village wouldn't go unpunished. But I didn't yet fully grasp the scale and complexity of what lay ahead.

Cihan Abi placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "Come on, Yahya. We've got a long journey ahead, and there's much for you to learn."

As we began walking together, I realized that the decisions made in the Crimean Khanate palace wouldn't just affect me—they would shape the fate of an entire region.

When we left the Crimean Khanate capital, the light of the rising sun illuminated some of the darkness within me. The horses moved swiftly, leaving dusty roads, stone bridges, and forested hills behind. At first, everything seemed familiar: fields, villages, and markets filled with hunters' freshly caught game. But as we approached Ottoman lands, the scenery began to change.

The villages along the roadside were more expansive and orderly than those I had known. People worked happily in the fields—some singing, others laughing. Children played among the livestock, and women baked bread, their faces serene. The air itself seemed filled with the scent of prosperity.

"Cihan Abi," I said, looking at the courier riding beside me. "These villages aren't like ours. Everything... seems better. The people look happy."

Cihan Abi smiled slightly and nodded. "This is the road to the heart of the Ottoman Empire, Yahya. What you're seeing now is the work of our Sultan, Osman II. Thanks to him, justice has been restored to these lands."

"What did he do to make everything so different?" I asked, my eyes wide with wonder.

With pride in his voice, Cihan Abi began to explain:

"When Sultan Osman ascended to the throne, he worked tirelessly to lift the burdens from the people. In the past, local rulers in the villages were bloodsucking tyrants. They kept raising taxes and seizing lands from the villagers. But Sultan Osman changed all that. He removed those oppressive officials and returned the land to the people. Now, every farmer works their own field. They know what they sow, and they know what they will reap."

Up ahead, we saw a large square bustling with activity. A group of farmers was loading their harvest onto carts. As we passed by, one of them called out to Cihan Abi:

"Greetings, courier! Do you bring good news for our Sultan?"

Cihan Abi nodded. "Yes, greetings to you. You should never stop praying for our Sultan. The peace in these lands comes from the justice he has brought."

The farmers raised their hands to the sky, offering prayers. "May Allah never take Osman Han from us! Even the taxes he collected were lessened, and now there's no one left hungry in the village!"

The scene only deepened my curiosity. "Cihan Abi, why is Sultan Osman so beloved? Everyone speaks of him with such praise."

Turning to me, Cihan Abi's expression softened. "You see, Yahya, Sultan Osman is no ordinary ruler. He truly cares for his people. From the day he took the throne, he banned wastefulness even in his own palace. He cut unnecessary expenses and directed those funds to farmers' lands and soldiers' needs. He didn't spare the bloodsucking officials who exploited the people. That's why everyone loves him."

"If he's so powerful, why didn't he save our village?" I asked, my voice tinged with lingering pain.

For a moment, Cihan Abi was silent. He slowed his horse and looked at me. "Yahya, Sultan Osman cannot personally reach every corner of his empire. But rest assured, the order he has established will ensure that no other village suffers what yours did. Justice will come here too."

As the journey continued, the gates of larger cities began to open before us. We passed through smaller provincial towns and, finally, drew near to the Ottoman capital. The sight left me awestruck: wide roads, stone bridges, grand mosques, and palaces... Everywhere, life bustled with energy. Markets buzzed with activity; merchants displayed their goods while people shopped with smiles on their faces.

With a proud expression, Cihan Abi gestured toward the view. "Look, Yahya," he said. "This is the heart of the Ottoman Empire. This is where it all begins—the place where our Sultan brought these lands back to life."

For a moment, I allowed myself to imagine replacing the devastation of my village with this kind of prosperity and order. I wanted so badly to be part of this new world. But how? With that question lingering, I spurred my horse to follow Cihan Abi, ready to learn how to become part of this thriving and beautiful place.