Chapter Two

When Feliciano opened his eyes, he was greeted with tense muscles and an empty stomach. He blinked, looking up at his surroundings, trying to remember the way out of the forest. Gingerly, he stood up.

Birds were chirping around him – the forest seemed to be sporting all sorts of animals. A squirrel ran out in front of Feliciano when he'd walked from the cover of the tree. He recoiled. He sighed – he wanted to go home. He knew that he couldn't, but still, he wanted to go back to the Italian village he'd grown up in.

Looking down at himself, Feliciano let out a bitter sigh. Last night he hadn't realised how muddy the grass he'd been sleeping on was. However, even though the forest wasn't bright, he could see how dirty his legs and arms were. He imagined that his hair properly was a mess with leaves and the likes.

He looked down at his foot – it took only a second to realise that the stone from yesterday had bruised, and was the cause for the throbbing in his foot. Feliciano swung his arms as he walked further into the woods. Well, he assumed he was walking further through the woods, he could just as easily been walking out.

Feliciano's throat was too dry. He didn't have any resources left, having run out of water the previous day, and buying food when he'd eventually find a market. His stomach growled at him, and quickly Feliciano hugged his stomach to try to hush the sound. He hated the fact that his stomach kept reminding him that he was hungry – it wasn't his fault that he was in this mess.

Feliciano's ears perked up when he heard the sound of a stream. At first, he jumped slightly, paranoia sparring through his tense muscles, before he realised that it was just the sound of a river and nothing else. Then, he found himself speeding towards the sound as quickly as possible.

It had been a while since Feliciano had smiled properly, but at the sight of the river and the small waterfall he decided that now was worth it. It was brighter by the river, and Feliciano stared in wonder at the beauty in front of him. If he had a camera, he'd be taking picture after picture of the place.

Taking advantage of the sudden water, Feliciano quickly rushed up to the river, using the water to wash the mud from his hands. He stripped down, placing his clothes by the side of the river, before lowering him down into the river. There wasn't a strong current, and the water wasn't very deep so Feliciano started scrubbing away the mud on his body. It wasn't very effective without soap, but Feliciano managed to get most of the grime and dirt off of himself.

After he was satisfied that he was clean enough, the Italian swam over to his clothes, pulling his shirt off of the bank. He pushed it into the water, in an attempt to try and wash away whatever dirt he could, before pulling it over his head and putting it back on – he did the same for his shorts too, hoping that they would dry quickly in the summer heat.

Once he was finished in the water, the brunette scrambled out of the water, feeling more refreshed and awake than he had for a while. Though his brother had taught him not to, Feliciano quickly scooped up some of the fresh water and drank it quickly. The Italian didn't care whether he got ill from it; he would have gotten sick if he didn't drink anything either way.

Standing up, Feliciano shook his head slightly, as if the action would dry off his hair. He knew that he had to keep going, but he wanted to stay for a while longer. After a short argument with himself, Feliciano decided that he had to continue through the forest.

He walked slowly, trying to get used to the small pain in his foot. He passed through the river once again, pulling himself up on to the bank. Smiling sadly, Feliciano took one glance over his shoulder at the beauty of the river, before weaving his way in through the trees.

Ludwig awoke to three different emails, all from his brother. All three contained a possible lead, and the German skimmed through them quickly, seeing which ones sounded reasonable. It was common fact that as the night progressed, Gilbert's ideas became far more farfetched, but usually he would find some good leads.

Ludwig hadn't expected any less from his brother, though he was slightly sad that his brother had stayed up all night, each email having been sent after two hour intervals. Despite the meeting he'd had last night, Gilbert had come up with more than enough information.

The first email contained a twenty mile diameter of where Vargas could be headed – this was based from calculations on how far someone could travel in a week, if sticking to the countryside. Ludwig had mentioned before that the Italian seemed to prefer villages to cities. This by itself though wasn't enough – though the German now had a basis of where to search.

The second email showed Ludwig in depth reports on the Austrian, Roderich Edelstein, going in to detail about his previous life in Austria. His family all lived in Vienna, so Gilbert had included that the chances of the Italian going to the Edelstein's for refuge was higher than most.

The last email seemed like a lead that Ludwig could carry out quickly. His brother had included directions to a farmer's house who'd phoned the police the previous night to complain about trespassers on his property. Apparently, the police had been delayed, and because the farmer's land was miles from any village or city, they still had yet to show.

Ludwig quickly sent his brother a message in reply thanking him for the information, before telling his brother that he would be making his way down to the farm first – he noticed suddenly that the farm fit in to his brother's diameter theory on the map.

The drive to the farm didn't take as long as Ludwig thought that it would have, and he found himself there within an hour and a half. When he was nearer to the farm, he drove slowly up the pebbled drive way, parking his car in the designated space. He opened the door to the car lazily, unbuckling his seatbelt.

Walking up the driveway, Ludwig pressed a button on his car keys. The car let out a beep, telling him it was locked. When he reached the door to the farm house, the German tapped his knuckles against the door twice. He took a step backwards as he waited for the door to open.

The old mahogany door opened after a few seconds, revealing a man with blonde hair. He was scowling, though he seemed to adopt his expression to a neutral poker face when he looked up at Ludwig.

"Who are you?" The man wasn't being rude, he was simply curious. Ludwig wasn't thrown off from this question.

"I'm Ludwig Beilschmidt." Ludwig admitted, going into his pocket and producing some I.D. "I'm here to talk about the man who was trespassing on your ground yesterday. Would it be alright to ask you some questions?"

The man stared Ludwig down for a moment. Then he nodded, opening the door widely for Ludwig to enter the house.

"Please come in." The man spoke without emotion. "My name is Vash Zwingli."

Ludwig nodded, stepping through the door. Vash led him in to the front room, asking him to sit. Both men did – sitting opposite each other. Ludwig pulled a small A5 notepad from his pocket, along with a pen to write with. He started almost immediately.

"Can you tell me what time you noticed the man trespassing?" Ludwig asked, writing down the words 'time of sighting'. Vash replied that it had been around seven the previous evening. Ludwig added 'Approx. 1900 hours' to his notebook.

"What did he do while you saw him? Did he steal any of your crops?"

"He just walked in to start off with. Then he took a small amount of my crops – it really freaked my younger sister out. When he saw me, he bolted, the coward. I chased him off my farm, but I lost him after that."

The German wrote each word down as an exact replica to what Vash was saying. He nodded to tell he was listening.

"I see... and can you tell me what the man looked like?"

The farmer nodded, taking a moment to think. Ludwig sat quietly from where he was staying, waiting patiently. Finally he answered,

"He was tanned. Light brown hair – rather skinny. In his mid-twenties I think. He had a single curl in his hair, on his left side I think..."

Silently Ludwig thanked his brother for staying up late to find this lead. He kept his face neutral though as he looked at Vash.

He asked, "Which direction was he headed?"

Vash took a moment to think again, before replying. "He was headed to Reutte. In that direction I guess. If you're going to go looking for him, then go to Reutte."

Ludwig quickly finished the interrogation process, and as he left the farm-house, opening his car door, he smiled. He was so close – he'd catch Vargas this time.