Götterdämmerung
„'Twilight of the Gods'. The term Götterdämmerung is occasionally used in English, referring to a disastrous conclusion of events." – Wikipedia
1871. UNIFICATION
The two men standing on a grassy hill overlooking a village seemed unperturbed by buildup of chill in the early evening wind. Snow could be smelled in the air, whiffed by heavily overcast skies above the forest that surrounded them with trees as dark and silent as the ominous clouds. The men were protected from elements by uniforms of a specific dark blue tint, turning black in the deepening gloom.
"Winter is at our doorstep, it seems." the older man shifted in his boots, without turning his gaze from the sloping hillside.
The other let the comment float in the air, absorbed by the same sight. A child's laughter rang alien and warming in the barren place, his colorful kite an aberration in stilled, muted surroundings. The two pairs of watchful eyes tracked his fair-haired head bobbing up and down the meadow, blissfully absorbed in a game as only children can be.
"On the contrary, Chancellor" the younger of the two finally spoke up, "I believe it is Spring that awaits us."
The stocky man with heavy moustache considered the reply and smiled enigmatically. "You may have a point there, Herr Gilbert. However, it is a big responsibility, rearing a child on your own…"
"He'll do fine." Gilbert curtly replied, his warm breath leaving foggy traces in the air. His face, pale and stubborn, had a deceptively youthful appearance. There was an unmistakable trace of pride in his features absorbed in the child's play.
"With all due respect, it is not him I am concerned about." under the brim of his ornamented helmet and bushy eyebrows, the old man's intelligent eyes were pointedly studying his patron.
Gilbert's head turned, arms unfolding from his chest. "You doubt me?" he growled, "I could take this as an act of treason."
"Far from it." the old soldier's voice rang true as he shifted his gaze to the child, "He is still young and fragile, surrounded by France and other lurking predators. Remember, not all celebrated this birth. Many think there is no place for a new child in Europe. Some may see to it."
Gilbert snorted and smirked at that, keeping an eye on the running boy. "I would like to see them try." As if in anticipation, he flexed his fingers in black leather gloves, gaining a disturbingly feral expression.
"That is exactly what I'm afraid of." the old man sighed, "We cannot afford the old foreign policy anymore. Times have changed."
"Damn right they have." Gilbert thoughtfully retorted. "The world is entering a new era." His gaze was with the child again, fighter's eyes strangely softened by the sight, lost in calculation. Coldly smiling.
"My lord, if I may…"
"Herr Bismarck!" the young man snapped, "Are you questioning my decisions?"
"Never!" the man fought to hide his marred dignity, "My lord, If I may speak freely, I fear you are failing to see that in time that follows he is not going to be your strength, but your biggest weakness. I fear for your judgment once I'm…"
Chancellor Bismarck bowed his head in uncharacteristic loss of words. The new era he himself helped usher, he will never be a part of. Isn't that the role of a good soldier, of a true patriot? To give his best for a dream that will belong to his children.
As if in reply, a lone wolf howled in the black forest.
"Is that what's been bothering you, Chancellor?" Gilbert's hand amiably rested on Bismarck's slumped shoulder, the old war veterans standing huddled together. "That you will not be here to see little Ludwig grow?"
"My life is nearing its end and his life is just beginning." the old man spoke, "We created him together and from now on he will be in your hands only. I wish a better future for my boy." His eyes were pleading, "Bitte, Gilbert, take care of your little brother."
"Rest peacefully Herr Chancellor, Ludwig will not be enlisted in the army. Instead, he is going to study engineering and mechanics." Gilbert's red eyes shone like embers in the dusk. "Don't worry, should the need arise, I will fight his wars…."
The old man nodded and wanted to believe the words of comfort he's been served. He looked at the little boy skipping and joyfully shouting, innocent and unspoiled, and not for the first time felt the child's boundless potential. Turning his gaze to Gilbert's face of a proud older brother, he could see he was not the only one. He wanted to believe his words so much.
A church steeple in the village rang in hail of evening Angelus, calling villagers from fields to hearths. Stars already shone clear and bright in the sky, night too tenebrous for the black-white-red kite to be flown.
It was time to go home.