Near the city centre of Haven…230Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVLreFkAveF
The streets were white with few veins of grey showing where footprints walked. It was like a city of marble as snow continued to fall, but though the sky was clear and bright, there were subtle black clouds on the horizon. Little sparrows perched atop red rooftops, ruffled their feathers, and shook off the cold that came with the gently blowing wind. The currents coursed through the city, joined by draughts of chimney smoke and ice that sailed overhead. As noon grew old, the young women and ladies gossiped under their frequented stalls and cafés as mothers packed their groceries and prepared to make way for home while their children played outside. Grandparents prepared supper while husbands and fathers had gone off to war, except for a few who were either too frail or old for military service. But they were uncertain about how much longer this peace would last.
Every day, stocks would perish. More stores were forced to close earlier every week, and prices continued to hike. Without apprentices to take over their craft, the labourious professionals ended their work unable to make ends meet, for many of the young had been recruited for war. Soon, their smiles would have had to face the reality of an invasion, and this sight was clear to the lieutenant-elect who walked down one of the many avenues that had grown quiet.
He could imagine that this, the busiest and longest street in all of Haven, was once prosperous, but like much of what was once the world’s greatest empire, its golden age was but a vestige of its past. Although it had become a mere playground and a place for gatherings more than it was used for commerce, the people still seemed spirited, and the mayor, who was in his company, was proud of the fire burning in his countrymen’s hearts.
For an hour they have spoken, but their conversations never ran dry. There was much to say between the two who had come from starkly different backgrounds and even more vastly dissimilar homelands, but their talks slowly crept from being random chatter to becoming subjects of reality. The lieutenant knew that he was gradually being drawn towards finding out what the mayor’s intentions were, but luckily, his patience in conversations has always been his untouched quality.
Returning a flask into his pouch, Rantzau spoke. His breath, warmed with wine, was visible. “When my kœnig heard that traitor, Johannes Meyer, had planned to defect, he summoned our three armies to his banner.” The mayor cleared his throat to warm his voice. “They marched south, hoping to save poor Liechtenstein’s kingdom.” He recounted.
Patrols passed by their mayor and halted in their step to give him their salutes, which Rantzau responded to with a bow of his own. Arminius thought that most nobles lacked the sense to care for their people, and the sight of this modesty struck him every day as a reminder that the spirit of this nation was what had survived, but its neighbours failed to retain.
Together, they continued on their way, Rantzau musing with the skies in his eyes. “But he did not expect that half the country had already turned on the Endende.” The mayor did not sigh nor shake his head in regret like most people would when he recalled a blunder. “His armies were driven across the Rænak, and Dengland was certain to be no more.” However, even by simply speaking of it, the knowledge of the situation soured his mood.
Arminius looked over his shoulder with a breeze brushing against his face. “Can’t your navy aid the king?” He suggested to the mayor, although the thought of even doing so was reckless.
“Inger? (Then?)” Rantzau returned to him as if he had expected him to say exactly that. “The dæk that keeps Radilov caged will have collapsed, and my king’s hands will be no freer than being bound.”
From the southeast, they arrived at a city square that connected four main roads. It was in the middle of the old town, where an impressive, imperial-aged stone fountain was enthroned. Surrounded by a plaza of red granite, the water drawn from the sea cascaded down its three steps that gave it an impression of natural waterfalls replicating the exotic natures of the king’s colonies. Instead of Victoria, who would usually stand dominant over most Europer monuments, Haven preferred to have a goddess of their own watch over its townsfolk.
A statue of the gilded Freyja, the queen of the north, stood instead. Under the skirt of her dress were her sons, kneeling and facing in the directions of the three kingdoms. The goddess’s family was protected by guardian valkyries and their mythological steeds, but instead of being filled with tourists and city folk, the square had been taken over by children playing around the fountain with nothing better to do.
Soldiers safeguarded them when their parents could not, steering clear of the group that carelessly pursued each other. It was only the lieutenant and the mayor who could find time to admire the monument of a past age of greatness.
The sight of Freyja reminded the man of what he had summoned the lieutenant for, but he was apprehensive of the thought. “Haben, I know he wishes so…” As he neared the fountain, he crossed his arms. “Yet, I cannot understand his absiktne by having me rule in his stead.” Rantzau plainly doubted his own ability.
Standing away from the spray of the fountain, Arminius’s eyes followed him. “He probably sees you as a regent now… and in the future…” The lieutenant hinted at the king’s probable desire.
The mayor scoffed with a faint grin, dismissing the idea. “That may be, but I am no military man, and my administrative læsdungne are still young, which perhaps…” Rantzau flapped his hand in denial, but he slowed his words upon becoming aware of the possibility. “No, that would be beyond sense.” He deduced that he had deceived himself with that thought.
Wondering what had clouded his mind, Arminius stayed his question out of respect for the man. If the mayor did not wish to speak of it, then it may as well have been unimportant, he thought.
Rantzau leaned on the edge of the fountain, his arms still tightly crossed, resting one foot over the other, as he stared down the empty road before him. In his periphery, the children circled the fountain with their giggles and laughter, but they did not distract him. It was clear that he had something that he wished to say, yet he also wished not to burden the lieutenant more. He mused and retraced his thoughts as Arminius waited, magnetised by the sight of the playful children.
“I wished to speak with you for one reason, but I wish to know before I proceed,” Rantzau began again, bringing Arminius away from his reminiscing. “Does the C… no… does the korporal believe that victory will come, lieutenant?” The mayor asked the boy, mistaking him for being a seer.
Unless everything Julien had told him was a lie, it was not possible for him to have known. Arminius looked at Rantzau, bewildered that he would raise this question, but he understood that everyone, mortal and not omniscient, wished to know their futures. Even if his answer was false, Arminius intended to bring some peace to his heart but was subconsciously reminded that he should do no such thing. He turned his eyes to the ground and shook his head.
Feeling a weight lift off his chest, Rantzau sighed. “Then, I shall be the one to inform you.” Holding a hand over his heart, he prepared to declare everything. “I intend to surrender.” He uttered four simple words.230Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡXqvsWDeFXH
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