'Tis midnight now. The bend and broken moon,
Batter'd and black, as from a thousand battles,
Hangs silent on the purple walls of Heaven.
- Joaquin Miller
Her words were still ringing in my ears. No, I had never asked for this, no, I did not want it.
I staggered outside from the small shop in Benghazi. I wanted to desperately find my way back to the bar, but I had no strength to move far. I wasn't tight, mind you, it was not as if I was staggering about it a drunken stupor. In fact, I was completely stone cold sober. She had seen to that in less than an hour. The drunkenness would come later, after I had reached the bar, when I needed to force aside the reality of the future.
Even though I felt the critical need to return to the bar to confirm if my fate had already been set in motion, I stopped to rest in a narrow alleyway. My head felt feverish, spinning with unanswered questions. Dizzy, I leaned against the wall for support. The clay bricks, while still warm from the heat of the day, felt cool and comforting against my burning face.
I closed my eyes, unsuccessfully trying to blot from my memory what she had foretold:
Germany would lose the upcoming war and at a high price. I would be engulfed in Germany's fruitless struggle and consumed by its agonizing defeat.
My fellow warriors would all fall on the battlefield: Christoph, Kurt, Albrecht and finally, Ellery. Why I would be left standing alone from my small circle was another riddle I would never know its answer. I surmised Matthias would survive due to the lucky chance of breaking a leg and being unable to accompany us on our trip. I gave a bitter laugh at this thought. Matthias was always the one to cheat the hangman and pick his pocket neatly while doing so.
As to my condition after surviving the war, and Germany's for that matter, they were an unknown. Only the future would provide me those answers. What would I witness when I returned home? Would my family and home still exist? Or, would I be the reincarnation of my father, living the same post-war life that I had so callously derided?
And then there was the American of which she had spoken. Who was he and what impact would he have in my life?
I had overcome and matured greatly during the last difficult months. I had managed to pull myself from the abyss and dare to have dreams again, but everything I had accomplished over the last four years would now be turned into black nothingness. Now, none of it mattered. Foolishly, I had thought that I was securing my future with my hard word at the Academy. I had been naively mistaken.
The alley was quiet and gave me the privacy to remember the previous nine months.