Quiet... quiet was all that was present in whatever state he found himself in. Was he dead? What became of his men? Or was he simply in a coma.
These questions rang through within the mind of Erwin Rommel for quite some time... only for no answer to ever come through. Every now and then though, muffled noises would be able to break the perpetual silence he found himself within, but they were all inaudible. The only such difference that was even present was the fact that he could somewhat hear the different pitches from within the voices of those that were muffled by his mind.
However, the inactivity of his senses did not mean that his body as a whole was inactive. I could still think for himself, for one... at least, that is what he thought. For all he knew, he could be in some sort of coma and this was just something that was playing throughout his mind to keep him somewhat active until either one: he simply died; or two: he woke up from his coma. As much as he wished to not think about that first possibility, it was very much, the only real thing that could possibly happen to him. Being thrashed around in a car and also banging ones head against a windshield at a high speed does that apparently.
But in his, worried mental state, he still found time to at least think of something else other than his own well-being. He had men under his command after all, and like any good commander, it was his job to not only lead them, but worry about their own safety. He worried for the likes of Neuhaus, Lang, and Holke, but the young Daniel was someone who he really did worry for. Disregarding the fact that he was in a coma for his own injuries, he hadn't sustained the like's of Daniel's injuries. What looked like a 20 millimeter shell had seemingly bore a clean hole through the young corporal's shoulder. If he didn't die immediately from that... only god himself could know what sort of pain he was ever experiencing, if the blood loss had not gotten to him. He was young, strong, loyal... but being around the men of Army Group B, he knew of the pessimism surrounding the war anymore, he was not one who was brainwashed to believe in the ideals of the party. But even then, he was still too young to be in such a war... a war that should never had involved anyone's child.
As much as he wanted to know of what happened, all Rommel could do was at least hope that Daniel would die at peace if his time were to come.
\/
/\
"Tenez-le!" the renaissance dressed, seemingly French doctor called out. Neuhaus did not know what it had meant, despite his time in Northern France with Army Group B, but he quickly learned what it meant as both young men and old surround a very awake and screaming Corporal Daniel as they tried to work on his wound while he thrashed about in the bed provided to him.
Neuhaus kept his eyes off the screaming young Corporal's wounds as the doctors attempted to tend to them with whatever medical tools they had at their disposal. At first, they seemed like professional medical personnel... until they pulled out wands similar to that of the Wizards he heard of in the stories long passed along with his childhood. He would've pulled them away and most likely shot them too if it weren't for the fact that they seemingly were able to not only close the wounds on the Field Marshal's face... but also somehow fix the depression that had formed in his left temple of his skull, all while the old man slept in a coma. Daniel on the other-hand... was a handful, to say the least.
The young men all around them looked like they wanted to gag the poor kid, until they saw the giant hole in his shoulder being painfully closed and somehow regenerated and healed. The whole process was mystifying amazing, yet also... it defied any known laws of physics. Even though matter could never be destroyed... how was such matter being... regenerated, right before his very eyes? It was a question that wracked his mind, but he shoved it back into his head as soon as they finished healing the poor corporal, and put him to sleep with whatever wizard spell they waved from their wands. In all the commotion, he did not notice a pink-haired girl eyeing him and his other comrades.
\/
/\
Two Hours Later
For once... there was finally quiet and silence. By the time Daniel was put to sleep, it seemed like the whole area that they were in was on edge. The people here... they seemed so, posh... as if they had never seen, nor experienced war, pain, suffering, all of that. They held their heads high, and for a minute, it looked as if Lang and his fellow Germans were looked down upon by them like simple... gutter trash. It was a detail that clearly didn't show when they somehow arrived in the odd, Pre-Napoleonic French compound at first, but as the time passed when they were all healed of any sort of wounds, the looks began to show clearly through their faces.
Sitting beside the bed of his now unconscious Field Marshal, Lang looked out through the window of whatever medical facility they were in onto the courtyard, taking it all in. He could see the stands where all of the young... students apparently, as the old man who looked like he had nearly pissed himself when he trained his Walther on him... said, had watched all 5 of them careen in their Horch and crash into one of the supporting columns of a building adjacent to the courtyard, had sat. Speaking of the Horch, it was still there where it had crashed, though the area was cleaned of blood. Sergeant Holke was also there, attempting to pull all of their luggage out of the vehicle's trunk. Somehow, it looked as if the trunk managed to make it unscathed throughout the whole thing as there were no bullet holes on the lid nor by the looks of it... on the inside as well.
Major Neuhaus had gone with the old man to speak with him about wherever the hell they were, which was surprising as the man apparently had broken his pelvis due to the crash. It must had been the adrenaline that kept him going until he was finally checked up on when they managed to quite down Daniel. So that left him all alone... in sweet, sweet silence. That is, until he looked back down the window and saw one of the oddest lizards he had ever seen.
\/
/\
Nervousness... that was an emotion that Jean Colbert never thought he would ever have to experience as a professor at the prestigious Tristanian Academy of Magic, and yet here he was... sitting with a man dressed in a grey uniform, wearing a grey cap, and black boots, who apparently, was the de facto head of the group of 5 that were summoned by Louise. The man was currently sipping a hot cup of coffee, something the man clearly was surprised to see, as he seemingly cherished every sip, therefore confirming Colbert's suspicions that the group of men were soldiers as only men away from home at war would cherish something they would most likely never get during combat.
But back to the point, he was still... extremely nervous and borderline fearful. Though this man wore a less menacing uniform than that of the bespectacled man who was dressed in all black, it was still, something very much fearful to look at. The man that sat before both him, and Headmaster Osmond, seemed to be a decorated soldier at least, with a few medals and ribbons pinned on his uniform, but the symbols... namely that of the eagle and odd symbol below it... it was, menacing... to say the least. While the man did not seem to harbor any true darkness within him, the symbols gave off an extremely dark aura within the room that left nothing but silence present, the only sound being that of coffee being sipped.
Sensing the mood within the room, Colbert opted to be the first to break it as he technically encountered them all first.
"Entschuldigung, aber sprechen Sie zufällig Tristanisch?" he asked in Germanian. For whatever reason, the man seemed puzzled.
"Tristanian? Es tut mir leid, was für eine Sprache ist das? Wenn Sie Französisch meinen, sprechen ich und meine Landsleute dann nur wenig darüber." the man replied, equally puzzling both Colbert and Osmond. What sort of language was French?
"Also gut ... wir werden später darauf zurückkommen. Darf ich fragen, wie ist Ihr Name?" Colbert asked, trying to put the conversation's subject back on course.
"Das spielt momentan keine Rolle." the man bluntly stated, taking another sip of coffee. What did he mean it didn't matter though?
"Ich bitte um Verzeihung, aber was meinst du damit, dass es keine Rolle spielt? Hast du eine Idee, wo du gerade bist?" The man had to be insane if he was not even interested in knowing where he was... who wouldn't be?
"Okay, hör hier zu ... und hör sehr ... sehr ... gut zu. Im Moment ist es mir egal, wo ich und meine Landsleute sind. Meine Gedanken richten sich auf die beiden Männer, die bewusstlos in den Betten lagen, die Sie ihnen zur Verfügung gestellt haben, von denen einer tatsächlich mein kommandierender Offizier ist. Meine einzige Sorge ist das Wohlergehen meines Kommandanten und seiner Untergebenen, die zufällig unter mir stehen. Versuchen Sie also nicht, mich mit kleinen Fragen zu belästigen, da ich nicht der Einzige bin. Sie können es mit dem Feldmarschall aufnehmen, wenn er aufwacht." the man stated.
Colbert knew he must have tripped a nerve as the man's calm expression turned into on of steel, but not something that was threatening. It was more or less the expression someone would give if they are tired, annoyed, and anxious... if anything. But who was the Field Marshal that he spoke of? No such rank ever existed within any of the kingdoms of Helgekinia, not even Germania. The only such rank seemingly similiar to that would be the rank or Marshal, but even that was only reserved for the most skilled of all field commanders, such as Marshal Gramont. And even with that, one would have to devote their entire life to service within their country's armed forces.
The whole entire ordeal was baffling to Colbert, and it seemed that Osmond had taken notice of it all so the old man motioned for his younger, though balder, counterpart to step aside so that he could take care of things.
"Bitte vergib meinem Kollegen. Er wollte die Dinge nicht zu fest drücken. Sie können sicher sein, dass Sie, Ihre Untergebenen und Ihr Vorgesetzter während Ihres Aufenthalts hier betreut werden." Osmond stated. It seemed like the assurances that Osmond had made did the trick, as the man's facial expression relaxed, though his demeanor was still quite alert.
"Danke dir. Sie haben keine Ahnung, wie viel Gutes Sie getan haben, selbst wenn Sie unsere eigenen Umstände berücksichtigen, von denen wir früher einmal waren." the man said.
"Ich bin froh, Ihnen behilflich zu sein. Es tut mir leid, das zu fragen, aber ... wie heißen Sie, Sir?" Osmond asked, hoping to get at least one answer from the man.
"Du darfst mich Neuhaus nennen. Mein militärischer Rang wäre der Rang eines Majors. Ist das alles, was Sie über mich diskutieren wollten?" Major Neuhaus asked.
"Nein, das wäre alles für jetzt. Es steht Ihnen frei, Herr Neuhaus zu gehen." Osmond answered. The Major swiftly got up from his chair, and oddly clicked the heels of his boots, before leaving with a still somewhat full cup of coffee in his hand.
The whole experience was odd... but it was not like the circumstances were odd either. But to not get a lot of information that easily, that was extremely off. Only a man harboring a secret would keep away information like that.
"You know we should've questioned him more Osmond." Colbert stated.
"I think we pestered him enough. Besides, even if we wanted to ask him a few more questions, I believe that you ruined that chance already... at least for today that is." Osmond simply answer.
"What do you mean I ruined such a chance Osmond? Yes, I might have pressed the man a bit too much, but how could I have ruined that chance?"
"My dear Colbert, you already answered that question on your own. You pestered a man who seems to be one to keep things private. Well... okay, that is not even true. You do know that the man is one of military bearing, correct?"
"Yes... but..."
"Exactly my point. One who is in the confidence of a superior officer or even simply in the radius of their superior officer would not divulge information without their superior officer's permission or expressive order. Is that not true?"
"Well... yes..." Colbert knew he was right and somewhat hung his head down with that realization.
"Alright then, well... we may speak with them tomorrow then. Does that sound alright?" Osmond asked.
"Yes, yes it does. I shall see you tomorrow then Osmond." Colbert replied.
"Of course. Oh, and if you do get the chance, please speak with Miss Louise, I do believe she could use some help." It sounded like a request, but it was more or less an order coming from Osmond. But still, it did seem like Louise needed some help, especially considering everything that had happened. Hopefully, she would speak her mind instead of holding it all back with her pride this time.
\/
/\
Pain was no longer present for Louise. What was present however... was confusion. Yes, the bliss of confusion had overall, flowed over whatever she was feeling before.
It was confusion, that brought her to her quarters... sitting in silence as daylight turned to dusk as the sun fell over the horizon. It was confusion, that put a stop to the constant berating insults that were thrown at her every... single... day... because all she could really do, was create explosions. She had no magical talent other than that of blowing things up. But the confusion put a stop to it all, at least for the rest of the day.
What she saw... she could not truly believe. She summoned a human... no, a group of humans. Such a thing never had truly been done before, and yet she still managed to do so. But they were most likely commoners if anything, nothing more or less. Just flat... out... commoners. With the added bonus of two of them being bloodied and unconscious from the moment of their immediate arrival within the strange, black, metal contraption they had sat in. It was interesting to say the least, but only now did it seem like something else to think about. For all she knew, she could have two brain-dead men as her familiars... with zero use, what-so-ever.
It was strange though... they were definitely commoners, but they acted as if they were noble soldiers. And not the types of soldiers that typically served within the Tristanian military whenever called up to do so, but there was an aura of professionalism surrounding them. The way that they composed themselves once the drama of arrival had finally waned down was something that even the most aristocratic nobles never seemed to show. It was a mix of rigid professionalism, but at the same time... soldierly conduct.
But however they were trained did not matter as soon, for some odd reason, someone began to knock on her door. She went over to open it, somewhat expecting Kirche or Guiche to be on the other end but to her surprise, it was neither of those two. Instead, it was one of the men who she had summoned. He seemed somewhat anxious by the look on his face and his arms were full of what appeared to be baggage in multiple leather cases.
"Entschuldigen Sie, Miss, aber können Sie mir bitte sagen, wo sich die Krankenstation befindet? Ich habe versucht, jemand anderen zu fragen, aber alle haben mir die Türen geschlossen oder nicht verstanden. Können Sie mir helfen?" The man was asking for directions and it was clear no one gave him any answers since he clearly was a commoner. Louise probably would've shut the door on him too if she did have any pride left but for some reason, she opted to help the poor man. What pride did she even have left to soil if she were to help him anyways? It just didn't matter anymore.
"Zuerst müssen Sie die Treppe zurückgehen und rechts abbiegen. Folgen Sie dem nächsten Flur nach unten, bis Sie große Doppeltüren erreichen. Wenn Sie die Türen sehen, öffnen Sie sie und die Krankenstation sollte sich auf der linken Seite der Halle befinden." she directed in her best Germanian. It seemed to do the trick as the man said it over again once and a small smile formed on his face.
"Vielen Dank, Miss. Ich hoffe, Sie haben einen wunderschönen Abend." he said as he nearly dashed off into the direction of the infirmary. Have a wonderful evening. It was odd to hear that from anyone that she ever new at the Academy, and yet to hear it from some random person she happened to summon... it was, relieving.
Well, almost relieving because as soon as the man dashed down the hallway, Professor Colbert entered. If it wasn't for the solemn face he wore, Louise would've had a heart attack, no matter how harmless the bumbling professor was.
\/
/\
Coffee... pure... ground... coffee. A delicacy only known to the elite or the black market consumers of the Third Reich. Even with the payroll of a Major... or even a Field Marshal, it was still extremely hard to come by. Hence forth why Neuhaus and Lang took savory sips of the black liquid.
"So, that was all that they had asked you Major?" Lang asked, puzzled by the explanation of the conversation Neuhaus had with the two men seemingly in charge of the compound... or well, school.
"Yes, well... the younger one tried to go straight to the point and seemed to be a bit on edge until the older one had put an end to it all. All I simply did was tell them that I would not divulge any information until the Field Marshal wakes up... or well, if... he wakes up." Neuhaus said before taking another sip of already his 4th cup of coffee.
"Ah, don't be so pessimistic about that. You and I both know that the Field Marshal will be up in a few hours and will be hounding the staff all around here in no time." Lang explained.
"Well, that may be true... but that still does not help with out current situation of being in some sort of ancient French nation hybrid of sorts."
"Yes... that is another thing. But personally, I do not wish to think of anything else right now. This day has been too long already for me."
"You and me both Hellmuth... you and me both."
With that, the two both took a sip out of their coffee and stared out of the window into the courtyard and distant fields around the Academy which they sat in. For a while, pure silence had reigned free until a somewhat panting Sergeant Holke had nearly burst through the door.
"Easy there, you don't want to face the wrath of the Field Marshal, Holke!" Lang said before helping the worn out sergeant with the bags.
"Very wheeze funny Sir." Holke managed the wheeze out before letting himself fall into one of the chairs.
"You know, you did not have to run. It was not like you were carrying Army Group B's battleplans Holke." Neuhaus said as he picked up a cup of coffee that he had saved for the Sergeant from an adjacent table.
"I know... but some of these students and the creatures they have... I don't know but it all just makes me feel very uncomfortable." The sergeant said.
"Come on, enough of that. We all made it out alive from the jaws of the Jabos, the least we can do is at least let our minds rest." Lang counseled as he watched Holke take a sip of coffee.
"Alright fine. Anyways, I brought everything I could manage to carry."
"And that is?" Neuhaus questioned.
"Well, everything in the trunk managed to escape damage so I was able to pack up every piece of uniform clothing into the two bags. Oddly though, all I could find for the Field Marshal in terms of spares was if Afrika Korps Tunic and trousers. Nothing else really." Holke explained.
"That tunic is his favorite so I can see why he had the packed. Thank you Sergeant." Lang said whilst patting the Sergeant on the back.
"No problem, all I wish to do now is sleep." Holke said, rubbing his eyes in the process.
"Not with that coffee in your system. It isn't ersatz or anything, that stuff is real." Neuhaus said, pointing towards the cup of coffee in his hands.
With that, all three of them laughed, though quietly as not to wake up their two compatriots sleeping in their hospital beds. Unknown to them though, one of them had already woken up.