#germany pair

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(Also... people who read my fics, please reblog them. I work hard on them, and want many to see them!)

And since I forgot to add this above the cut; this canon is also one of the few times Nyotalia characters canonically exist as their own entity in my works, if not the only one so far. It’s kind of necessary, since otherwise it’ll turn into a complete sausagefest. However, as I have no set personality for them in main Alt-talia canon, I basically write them the same way as I would their male counterparts, with maybe some minor changes. I do have some ideas for Nyotalia characters in “what if” stories for main Alt-talia canon, but since this would be an Alt-talia spinoff, most of my theoretical audience would be there for the Alt-talia characters who appear in most Alt-talia media. Not to mention male stereotypes for countries are usually more fun anyway. However, in this universe two counterparts of the same character can co-exist. I try to avoid that though. 

Also, a character named “Arendt” is briefly mentioned; this is Brandenburg. He isn’t really that important though, and really I’ve barely fleshed him out, so that’s all you need to know.

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The Key To Zorn

In a certain continent, there was a forest.

A serene, peaceful forest, where inside one could almost feel mystical energy in the clear, unpolluted air.

Until, under the evening sky, a gunshot sounded.

Ludwig Beilschmidt, a boy of merely 8 with innocent, cornflower blue eyes, ran through the forest he knew so well, a basket of wild berries and herbs in his arms and a small sack over his back.

Soon, in his view, among the trees and wild cornflowers was the only place he had known all his life, the little wooden cottage he called home.

The boy immediately checked his old, somewhat rusted mailbox, a look of anxiousness on his face - one which immediately turned to disappointment upon finding there was nothing there.

He sighed.

“Nothing today either...”

He reached up somewhat, twisting the doorknob and opening the wooden door.

“I’m home!”

No one answered back.

As per usual.

He didn’t expect one anyway.

Ludwig went to the dining table, setting the basket and sack, as well as his small, old-model pistol, down on his side of the table. Inside the sack was a small rabbit; the poor little thing. He hoped it didn’t struggle for long after he had shot it.

He prepared dinner as he always did, the bubbling as the ingredients stewed the only sounds other than the cries of the wildlife outside.

And he ate in silence by the light of the lamp, staring at the empty, vacant other side of the table, the light of the sun dim and faint.

“Mutter, is it good?”

Nothing.

Ludwig sighed again, going back to shoving the stew into his mouth.

——-

Ludwig tucked himself into bed after a bath and a change of clothes, now in his old, almost too small pajamas, having finished the book in his hands an hour ago - while he had reread it and others several times already, it was a window into a world different from his, where friends supported each other and families told stories in front of the fire - but now that it was over, here he was, once again, stuck in loneliness, on his own, within the cold, dark walls of a small cabin.

Once again, it was quiet. All too quiet; except for the sounds of the forest.

Now as he had nothing to distract him, every rustling of the underbrush, every animal cry made him bristle. The forest was his comfort by day, almost a second mother, but by night, it was dark, feral. 

He pulled his blankets up to his face, curling up, shaking like a leaf. He felt any moment, a beast could break through the walls and tear him to shreds.

He missed his mother so much, oh how he missed her. Her harsh but protective voice, her calloused hands squeezing his wrists. He missed his onkel Arendt, who told him stories of the battles he and Mutter had been through.

She’s dead. She’s dead, accept it.

No, no she wasn’t.

She couldn’t be. She had to be alive.

She was too strong to die.

She would come back. She always came back. 

His mother wouldn’t want to see him like this anyway. He was being pathetic.

“Einz, zwei, drei...”

He took a deep breath. He was stronger than this. 

Imagining his mother was standing by his bed, staring at him with disapproval at his fearful behavior, finally his shivering started to lessen ever so slightly.

He needed to make it so that when she came home with another medal shining on her chest, she could come home to a son she could be proud of, after all.

“Good night.”

He said to no one in particular, as he let the faint moonlight be his comfort, finally closing his eyes.

Lu li la la lu li la la la...

A soothing, calming melody played in his mind; Ludwig didn’t know where he knew it from, but as it surrounded him in soft, almost familiar gentleness, the shivering stopped, his muscles loosened, and he was finally lured into the welcome embrace of sleep.

Lu li la la lu li la la la…

Lu li la la lu li la la la...

———-

“FIRE!”

BANG! BANG! BANG!

Birds flew away in massive numbers, disturbed by the sudden noise.

Ludwig blew the steam off his pistol, seeing that the bullets had all landed near-target. Almost there.

Not bothered by the recoil anymore, he lined up the shot again, swearing he would get it right this time.

Every two days he did this, before 10 sets of running, marching, and every parallel bar routine; this wasn’t how most children his age passed their time, willingly anyway, if the books he read were any indication, and surely he felt sorry for the animals who had to hear such things, as they were the closest things to friends he had. But it broke the silence. 

And most of all, he could almost sense his mother beside him during these practice drills; he could feel her hands on his arms guiding him in his aim, and hear her voice shouting in tandem with him as he shouted “FIRE!”. In fact, sometimes he swore she actually was there, by his side.

He took a deep breath and aimed again.

“FIRE!”

-----------------------

When he came home, he once again saw a basket of supplies.

They always puzzled him. They came at such random, unpredictable intervals, filled with food, a few bottles of milk, several cartridges of bullets, and even occasionally a book, toy, bar of soap, or other extra, but by the time he found them no one was ever there.

He should be grateful. Though he wished someone would explain to him.

Oh well.

-----------------------------

Days passed, then months.

Once again, on the night of his 9th birthday, Ludwig laid alone, the weak moonlight unable to brighten his gradually deepening pit of despair.

The silence was maddening. He craved for any touch, for any warmth of another person, for anything. But even that simple wish was too much to ask.

He bunched up the worn blanket, the cold, frigid winter air seeping into the cabin.

Every day, he wondered if he was slowly going mad. 

Holding a cornflower and his mother’s black cross necklace to his chest, looked out into the moon, to the night sky peeking from a clearing in the trees.

A star shot through the night sky, and Ludwig was quick to make his wish.

I hope Mutter will answer my letters soon.

She had always told him that believing in such things was foolish.

But what was the pain in hanging onto the little light he could find?

-------------------

Now’s your time.

Alright. I’m going in. See you. 

------------------

One cold, chilling day, towards the final days of the year he turned 9, Ludwig stepped outside to check his mailbox again.

Snow lightly dusted the ground, softly landing on his old, worn coat.

He had checked his homemade calendar; Sancbruma. Such a lovely holiday. But now, just yet another cold, freezing, lonely day. Oh well. He had known Pater Natalis wasn’t real for years to need confirmation.

But this day, after creaking the old thing open, he found something.

His heart almost stopped.

Immediately, he ripped the envelope often, his heart pounding in his ears, his breath quickening, and he immediately glued his focus to the words, written specially to be understandable to a child.

Ludwig Beilshmidt, we are sorry to inform you that…

Time seemed to stop. He swore his heart stopped.

Dread shot through his body like lightning.

He read on, clinging onto the little hope that still remained with him all those years as they escaped from him, flying away as he fell deeper.

…

…

Tears fell from his face.

She was gone. 

She was really gone.

Finally, suppressed despair replaced dread, filling every corner of his mind and body, every nerve, every muscle. 

But mixed with it, and eventually almost overpowering it in the concoction of emotion, was wrath. 

Pure, unbridled wrath.

He tore the paper and screamed, his screams piercing the serene forest air.

Tears fell from his eyes like a burst dam as he cried into his hands, cursing whoever had killed her, her fate, the cruelty of the gods.

If only he could get his hands on whatever bastard killed her, he would strangle them, he would gouge out their eyes, he would shoot them in the leg and watch them bleed to death, how dare they take his mother away!

He had always been told the best came to those who were patient.

He was proven wrong that day.

All those years, waiting, hoping, hoping for nothing.

Nothing. 

His mother was never going to come back. Ever. 

Grief, anger, and sadness gripped his small frame as he shook, on the ground, his young brain besieged with intense emotions and reality, dreaded, painful reality.

Don’t cry. How pathetic. Is that how I raised you?

Ludwig forced himself to take deep breaths, desperately fighting his tears and holding back the flow of the concoction of emotions any further. 

No, his mother wouldn’t want to see him like this. He couldn’t let her be honored like this.

“Einz, zwei, drei, einz, zwei, drei...”

He took a breath with every word, forcing his emotions back and attempting to lock them away, until finally once again he could think somewhat coherently.

It was here he noticed something wet poking his hand.

There was something in front of him.

A dog.

A medium-large dog with pointy, perky ears and snout; a magnificent, beautiful coal-black Fernirhund, its bright, intelligent eyes a rare violet. 

He didn’t notice it before in his panic, but now the dominant emotion in his mind was confusion.

As he sniffled, the dog nudged him again with its nose, looking up at him with its soulful eyes.

“...A dog?”

The dog stared at him back.

Ludwig’s mind immediately jumped back to the beginning of the year.

I hope Mutter will answer my letters soon.

“Are… are you from my Mutter?”

Silence.

Immediately, he embraced the dog, making it yelp, crying into its fur.

“It’s adorable! I love it Mutter! Thank you!”

It let him cry into its fur, as the boy’s short arms wrapped around it in the first living thing it had embraced, nay, touched, in years.

He was actually holding something living. Oh, it had been so long. Oh so long.

He had almost forgotten what it felt like to hold life in his arms, to feel its warmth, to feel its gentle rising and falling, to hear the subtle sounds of another’s breath in his ears.

For the first time in years, despite the unforgiving cold of the winter morning air, warmth reached Ludwig’s heart, happiness brewing with and overpowering now subdued despair and rage.

<Sure… Whatever makes you happy, kid.>

------------------------------------------

“Oy vey… I was too late again.

...This world is fucked.”

-------------------------------------

Ludwig put a saucer of stew in front of the dog, which surely enough it soon started lapping up.

“It’s good right? What should I call you… I’ll have to give you a name.”

He stared at the dog, deep in thought.

“Oh, I know… Schwarzchen!”

The dog looked at him.

“You like it? Then Schwarzchen it is!”

<...I didn’t say anything. ’Blackie’? You cannot be serious.>

--------------------

That night was different from usual.

Ludwig nestled his head in Schwarzchen’s fur, holding onto him like a stuffed animal, running his fingers through his soft coat. It had seemed reluctant at first, clearly not used to such close contact but as Ludwig begged it to stay, as if it understood him, it decided to stay with him. 

The dog’s breathing neutralized the deafening silence he had gotten so used to, its warmth protecting his small body from the frosty air.

It was like heaven.

Oh, he almost forgot something.

He took his mother’s necklace from his bedside table, putting it around the dog’s neck like a collar.

“There. Perfect. It suits you.”

He barked.

“Good night, Schwarzchen.”

That night, sleep came to Ludwig easier than usual, as he was surrounded by his new companion’s soft breathing and warm fur.

----------

“Hallo. Kid. Wake up.”

Ludwig awoke, his eyes fluttering open.

Once his eyes focused, he almost yelped in shock.

He was somewhere he didn’t recognize, some formless void; Schwarzchen was nowhere to be seen, nor were the walls of his cabin or even his forest, all that remained was his bed.

In front of him was a man clad in what seemed to be a long white lab coat and some type of mantle, or at least Ludwig assumed, his clothing style almost resembling that in illustrations in one of his novels, ostensibly chronicling ancient legends; but not just any man. 

A man who looked almost exactly like how one would imagine Ludwig would look like when he was older, save for his unnatural purple, almost magenta eyes that shined with a calculating glint, a scar under his left.

“H… hallo?”

“Don’t worry, I’m not here to hurt you.”

“I… Who are you?”

The man smiled at him softly; despite his harsh features, it calmed some of Ludwig’s nerves, just a little.

“That isn’t important. But you’re lonely, right? And it’s causing you pain, yes?”

His voice was deep; much lower than Arendt’s, the only other reference he had for an adult man, surprising Ludwig a bit.

The boy nodded.

The man dug into one of his pockets, taking out a key.

“Here. I’ll be your friend; all you have to do is take the other end of this key, and you won’t feel any of that loneliness and pain any more…”

Tentatively, Ludwig took it.

The boy gasped as he suddenly felt something overwhelming and indescribable other than energy blitz between him and the strange man through the key; it was painless, in fact almost manic energy, bright lights flashing in his vision.

Ludwig woke up.

The boy laid there, his eyes wide, his mind mulling over what he had just seen.

“A dream… it was a dream… Who was that man?”

He turned, and there Schwarzchen was. 

“Never mind… Good morning, Schwarzchen.”

<Are you really going with that name?>

Ludwig blinked.

“...Did you just…”

<I thought children were supposed to be creative?>

Ludwig’s eyes widened. He held his head; it seemed to be coming from within his head, like a thought, instead of from his ears.

“...Schwarzchen? Is that you?”

<Yes, this is the dog. And I have a name.>

Ludwig took a few seconds to process the information.

“...What? ...Mein Gott, I’ve really gone crazy…”

<No. This is real. I’m speaking to you through something called telepathy. Speaking to you through your mind. I could explain all the intricate details but it would probably short-circuit your child brain.>

“I know what it is. But it’s just like in the stories! Wow! I didn’t know they really happened!”

<Well you could say that.>

Ludwig sat up on the side of his bed.

“You keep insulting my naming sense. So what is your name?”

“Schwarzchen” looked him directly in the eyes.

<Well, well, it’s the same as yours, funnily enough. Ludwig.>

“We have the same name? What a coincidence.”

 <But I know that is confusing. Just call me Lutz. That is what everyone calls me.>

“Alright… Lutz it is. ...I liked ‘Schwarzchen’ though.”

<...Whatever, kid.>

---------------------------

Like that, Ludwig and Lutz became friends. 

His 10th birthday had been the best birthday he had in years, even if it was just the two of them.

Over time, Lutz taught the boy how to use telepathy; and without him saying a word, he became a third hand to him.

...Sometimes. Other times, the dog merely yawned, telling him to “Do it on his own.”

Ludwig wondered if all dogs were like this. But even then, he didn’t mind. Even if Lutz was a cold, snarky jerk sometimes, it didn’t matter.

Every day, they ate together, went hunting together, bathed together, and at the end of the day slept together.

He could almost forget his loneliness, and the fact that his mother would never return.

Almost. 

——————

As Ludwig braced himself on his bed, he once again counted his breaths. 

The wrath he felt that day; it was coming back. From within, it seemed to spread to his entire body, to the point it was unbearable. 

He would never forget that pain. He couldn’t. But mindless rage was for the foolish. 

He wouldn’t forget. But he would remember, silently. 

When he looked to Lutz, Lutz didn’t seem afraid at all. He merely stared at him with those violet eyes. 

Ludwig embraced Lutz, not letting go. 

-----------------

Lutz stared at the young boy as he slept, his chest rising and falling.

<How cute.>

It was easy.

A bit too easy.

What did he expect from a child though.

<Still, would have liked a bit more of a challenge.

Oh well. Sleep tight, kid.

...Though why do you have to use me as a pillow?>

--------------------

Over the next year, Ludwig grew. Now on the cusp of puberty, he became stronger, he could run faster and further, and he could shoot with more and more accuracy.

On the morning of his 11th birthday, Lutz presented him with a query.

<Kid.>

“Huh? What is it, Lutz?”

<Now that you know that your mother isn’t coming home…>

Ludwig froze.

<Don’t cry on me.>

“I wasn’t going to”

<Yes, yes. In anyway, since you know you mother isn’t coming home, what’s the point staying in this place anymore?>

The boy pondered it.

<I’m a dog and even I think it’s pointless waiting for someone if they’re clearly dead. Well maybe I’m not the one to talk here.>

He was right.

“But… This is all I have ever known.”

<Don’t worry about it. You’re smart. I think. You should find out what to do soon enough.>

“...Jawohl. I don’t know what my purpose is being here forever too… It’s not like this place will disappear either. And it’s not what Mutter would want me to do. ...We’re leaving tonight.”

————-

Ludwig opened his drawer.

There it was; the notice he had torn up all those years ago. 

Why did he still have it? 

Just so he would never forget, probably.

Ludwig sealed the notice into a pouch before the rage became too much to bear, stuffing it into his bag, going to fetch his clothing. He had a sailor suit saved up for “special occasions”; he hoped he hadn’t outgrown it already. 

--------------

Ludwig looked behind his back one last time to the small cabin, the cornflowers, the trees he had known for his entire 11 years of living. 

It felt so odd to know he would be away from it. 

He quickly ran back, Lutz grumbling behind him, and picked a few flowers, pressing them between the pages of a book. 

<Are you done now?>

“Jawohl. Coming, coming!”

-----------

When Ludwig entered the capital, the little truly important belongings he had on his and Lutz’s backs, he was in awe.

It bustled with energy, with people, rickety, clanking automobiles and trolleys spewing steam or smoke that made him cough if he went to close, radio commercials resounding through the air, as well as delicious smells the likes of which he hadn’t known in years, some never before, but mixed in with the inexplicable smell of whatever was coming out of the automobiles. 

Ludwig wasn’t quite sure whether he liked it or disliked it, but most accurately he would describe it as a strange mix of the two; but more than anything, everything was so new.

He marveled at the sight of a trolley passing by, when he heard honking behind him. 

“Get out of the way brat!”

Ludwig stepped back, hopping back to the sidewalk, and an automobile clunked on, its driver looking at him irritated.

But its movements fascinated him, how the machine seemed to move magically, how it seemed to have a life of its own.

“...Where should I even start?”

<Well? Do you have any relatives?>

“Not that I know of.”

Lutz pointed in the direction of some other children, in a way much like how a pointer or setter dog would.

<You could try living on the streets like them for a few days. See where it gets you.>

“...Oh.”

Ludwig sighed. He may as well. 

————-

“Shoo! Shoo!”

“No money? We aren’t a charity, sorry.”

“Outta the way!”

————-

Ludwig slept in an alley that night, huddled in his old blanket, snuggling against Lutz, who had gotten used to the close contact years ago. 

He was so tired. He just remembered he hadn’t slept for an entire day, and it was finally catching up to him. 

He had gotten some attention due to being cleaner-looking than the rest, though Lutz was far more charming in their eyes. But more often than not, the overwhelming message in the air was clear; he wasn’t welcome here. 

“Lutz?”

Lutz looked up. 

<What is it, kid?>

“Why didn’t you tell me I needed money for everything?”

<Didn’t you read about it?>

“I didn’t know it was this necessary.”

<I can’t hold your hand all the time.>

“...Lutz?”

<...What now?>

“There’s so many people here. But I still feel so alone.”

<Well at least you got some to get through the night. Don’t be choosy.>

“Jawohl… Good night.”

————

Seeing no reason not to, Ludwig had decided to explore the city a bit more the next morning, after having helped himself and Lutz to a piece of bread and some beef jerky he had bought, plus the miscellaneous items he had been given the day before.  

After a long while of walking, taking in the different sights, from the historical landmarks and building to new projects, some even in the midst of being built, neatly separated or together, working in at times harmonious and at times chaotic tandem. Every so often he saw stray animals run about. After some time he started to see schoolchildren, some about his age, run to school with their friends, adults dressed in suits on their way to work. 

Until, Ludwig started to feel the air change. 

It felt somewhat... sticky? The breeze seemed stronger. And inexplicably salty. 

For he had reached the city harbor. Birds, they were called seagulls he believed, cawed above. Fishermen had far since left the dock, and in the distance, trade ships were being loaded to go who knows where. And they were floating on a vast, open field of water, water, nothing but water.

“Lutz... is this...”

<The ocean? What, you don’t even know what the ocean is?>

He had heard his mother’s stories about the ocean; while she had never been a woman of the seas per se, she was in the army, not the navy after all, he had heard her describe growing up near it. It was odd thinking that she, too, had been a child once like him.

This ocean was to her like the forest was to him, quite possibly.

She had also spoken about a rumor; a rumor that a wish put into a bottle and cast into the sea would, eventually, be granted. She had dismissed it as childish of course. And she did say that she much preferred the land after growing up.

Though according to Onkel Arendt, she would at times, despite this, just go to her childhood home, staring out into the eternal ocean.  

He wondered what she had thought as her red eyes stared out into the distant horizon, the salty breeze flowing through her silver-white hair.

It was strange, imagining his mother like that. The sea was so free, almost careless; the complete opposite of her. But maybe that was exactly what drew her to it.

Ludwig started running along the dock, letting Lutz chase him, the briny wind rushing past him and through his hair. People had started to come to swim, and the city was starting to fully come to life. 

Even if life was hard, at least he had some way of entertaining himself when everything was so brand new. 

--------------

One day, a duo of teenagers spotted Ludwig.

And being the thugs they were, Ludwig suddenly found himself in confrontation with two kids much larger, older, and stronger than he; even if Ludwig was tougher than most 11-year-olds, these two seemed to be about 14 at least, if not, and probably, 15.

“Hey street rat, where’s your mutti?!”

Ludwig tried not to pay them any heed, even if he bristled at the rude words. 

“...What business do you have with me?”

The shorter one grabbed him by the collar. 

“I asked you a question, shorty!”

After the initial shock and fear, Ludwig felt a flash of anger. His fists clenched as he tried to struggle his way out. And worst of all was that he couldn’t do anything. 

<Kid. Listen.>

“What?!”

<Listen to me. Tell me to “Intimidate”. Now. Don’t ask questions.>

“Of course! ...Intimidate, Lutz!”

————-

Ludwig stood there, dumbfounded at what he had just witnessed, as the teenagers ran away, screaming “DEMON DOG! DEMON DOG!”.

And there Lutz was, looking terribly bored, as if nothing had happened. 

“How… how…”

<I’m a Very Amazing Dog, you could say.>

————

A week passed; Ludwig counted, as he always valued timekeeping, no matter what. The other street children left him alone, eyeing him strangely. Occasionally, he heard extortionists threatening some unfortunate soul. 

That was when, however, Lutz told him something vital. 

<Hey. Have you ever considered asking the police if you have any relatives?>

Ludwig looked at the dog, puzzled.

“What?”

Lutz pointed at a building.

<There. It says “POLIZEI”. Can’t you read?>

“...Why? Won’t they throw me in jail or something?”

<Actually they have records too. They might have your mother’s family on file.> 

Lutz looked up to see Ludwig’s dumbfounded face staring back at him. 

“...Why didn’t you tell me that, you mutt?!”

<Thought it would be interesting to observe you. Also don’t be too loud. Everyone will think you’re a crazy person. 

Ludwig took a look around, and indeed there were some passerbys staring at him. 

Ludwig loudly sighed, his palm on his face. 

“...Fine. Thanks anyway.”

--------------------------

“Your name?”

“Ludwig Beilshmidt.”

The officers looked at him for a few seconds.

“...As in Julia Beilshmidt? General Julia Beilshmidt?”

“Jawohl.”

They were in shock.

“...Excuse me? Is something wrong?”

“Erm… We apologize. Ja.”

“Do I have any relatives? I need some place to stay.”

“...Ja. We will search immediately. Please wait here. But it may take a while.”

————-

“Hallo? Is this the police? Why must you be calling?”

“Well, you see, sir… It appears that a relative of yours has suddenly shown up out of nowhere. ...He claims to be Beilshmidt’s son.”

“...Mein Gott. Julchen did say she had a son… I knew she wasn’t the type who should be able to take care of a child. I will be there as soon as I can.”

-------------

<This is boring.>

“I know, Lutz. Shut up.”

Lutz yawned.

“He should be here soon-”

It was then that the door to the police station opened with just enough force to be noticeable without slamming. 

Standing there was a dark brown-haired gentleman with a large, curly cowlick, probably in his thirties, most likely affluent from his clothing.

“Excuse me, I hear there was someone waiting for me here?”

Ludwig stood up, and their eyes met.

“Hallo. ...You are Ludwig?”

He adjusted his glasses, then his tie.

“Ja?”

He looked him over.

“Ah, I can see some of the resemblance. Though you’re actually somewhat adorable, unlike her.”

“...Is that an insult against her?”

Realizing his mistake, the man cleared his throat.

“Ah, sorry.”

He outstretched his hand.

“I am Herr Roderich Edelmann. Your mother’s cousin. Nice to meet you. I’ve heard about you, but it is nice being able to see you with my own two eyes.”

Ludwig took the hand, shaking it. 

“Ludwig Beilshmidt. Nice to meet you, Sir.”

Then, suddenly, Roderich’s formal facade dropped and he pulled the boy into a hug.

“You’re so precious! You may call me Onkel Roderich! Don’t worry, we will take great care of you!”

Lutz looked on in amusement as Ludwig’s cries of shock became muffled in the man’s chest. 

Ludwig was flabbergasted. It had been so long since he had been hugged. He only could relive them in his memories, and they weren’t frequent, but here he was, feeling it yet again, surrounded by warmth; he didn’t know how to process it. 

But if there was one emotion he was certain about as the man smoothed his hair and cooed over him, it was that he felt loved.

————-

Ludwig held on tightly as the automobile rocked around them. Roderich didn’t seem to mind it whatsoever, but Ludwig had only heard of an automobile once, and had seen, much less ridden, none. Roderich was happy to make him comfortable next to him though, warning him whenever a bump or “pothole” was coming up. 

“I forgot to ask… what is that dog doing with you? A purebred Fenrir no less?”

Lutz was lazily sprawled out in the back seat behind them, his ears pricking somewhat at the mention of him. 

“Oh, that’s Lutz.”

“...Lutz? As in…”

“Jawohl.”

Roderich looked puzzled. 

“Erm… Mutter named him.”

Roderich huffed.

“Ah, Julchen, of course…”

“He was my last Sancbruma present from her before she died.”

Roderich quieted for a few seconds.

“Oh… I see. We will accommodate him too. Do not worry. ...Also, no need to ‘jawohl’ around me.”

“Jawo… ja.”

—————

Onkel Roderich was a renowned musician; he was a master of many instruments and even knew how to compose, but his main forte was the piano. He was sought after for his talents across the land.  

And he had the house to show it as well. 

“Welcome to your new home, Ludwig.”

Ludwig took it all in; the house was already larger than average compared to others in town, and as a boy who had grown up in a small log cabin all his life, it seemed especially enormous. 

A woman with long, light brown hair came up to them, looking from Roderich to Ludwig. 

“Ah, Erzsébet! This is my nephew, Ludwig. He will be staying with us from now on.”

Roderich bent his knees so he was at Ludwig’s level. 

“Ludwig, this is Erzsébet, my wife.”

“H… hallo. Nice to meet you, Tante Erzsébet.”

Ludwig outstretched his hand. 

The woman merely eyed him for a few seconds.

“Hallo. I guess.”

She said, gruffly, with a distinctly foreign accent.

Roderich sighed. 

“Erzsébet, why do you have to be like this?”

“Why do we have to take in this ratty-looking kid?”

Ludwig scowled. 

“Hey!”

Roderich held Ludwig closer, glaring at her. 

“Erzsébet! He’s a child! Have you no heart?!”

“Fine, fine.”

She shook his hand, roughly. 

“But the dog is cute though. And wow, a Fenrir?! Hallo, come here!”

Lutz merely yawned. 

Ludwig couldn’t help but snicker as an unamused frown crept across Erzsébet’s face. 

“...Whatever. Make yourself at home I guess.”

She walked off. 

“Prepare the bath and extra room for the boy! Come on now!”

Roderich commanded, and soon after servants bowed and quickly ran upstairs in single file. 

“Don’t mind my wife. She wasn’t exactly enthusiastic to hear from you. But she will warm up to you eventually. Though… you are in need of new clothes, aren’t you?”

He gave the boy a once-over, making Ludwig look down to his old, beaten-up and washed out child-sized military uniform. 

“Sadly, we do not have any clothes your size as of now. I will have a servant hire the tailor immediately. Meanwhile I will order them to wash what you have now.”

<He’s awfully happy to see you, isn’t he?>

“Ja… he seems like a nice person.”

————

That might, Ludwig had the best dinner he had ever had. 

He could only marvel at the dishes in front of him; even those he had heard of before looked so refined. And there was so much of it! The variety of bread available was amazing.

But he couldn’t let himself forget his discipline. Even if it took all his willpower not to start gorging himself on everything like he had been possessed by some demon of gluttony. 

“Onkel, what is this?”

“A chocolate torte, you see. A type of cake.”

Ludwig remembered actually having a cake a grand total of once. He still remembered its sweetness so well and it was probably the best thing he ever had eaten. And then there were two other things he had only read about before. 

...And Lutz seemed unusually interested in it.

He couldn’t blame him though, it’s aroma was mesmerizing to Ludwig’s senses.

“Chocolate? Is that what the brown is?”

“You have never had chocolate before?! Mein Gott, Julchen, What have you done?”

Ludwig was quick to take a bite, and he froze. 

The mellow, deep sweetness melted on his tongue, spreading throughout his mouth in such an indescribably perfect way, a tinge of bitterness within that instead of detracting from the experience, somehow harmonized with the sweetness in such a heavenly way. 

“...Ludwig?”

“...It’s amazing.”

Roderich seemed somewhat amused by how floored the boy was. 

“Even your mother was quite a fan.”

<Hey, hey. Kid.>

Ludwig was surprised by the unusual agitation in Lutz’s thoughts. He didn’t think he had ever heard anything like it before. 

“Lutz? What is-“

<I need it. Now. Don’t ask questions!>

Ludwig almost panicked, giving a piece to the impatient dog. 

“Ludwig!”

“I… erm… It was unfair to have it to myself!”

“...Wasn’t chocolate poisonous to dogs?”

Erzsébet questioned. 

“Wait wha-“

<Don’t worry. ... Ahh, bliss...>

Ludwig smiled nervously. 

“He’ll be fine.”

The couple just stared, confused. 

“Erm…”

“Trust me! I know him well. ...Can I have more? Please?”

“Absolutely.”

His face absolutely lit up at that, and in the corner of his vision Ludwig saw quite possibly the most genuine expression of joy he had seen from Lutz in all the time he knew him. 

“Why’s it that everyone in your family loves chocolate so much?”

Erzsébet asked as her husband took another piece. 

“Why don’t you is the better question.”

“...Actually, yup, you two definitely are related. Leave some for me though!”

————

Roderich doted on the boy; he made sure he had the nicest clothes and the nicest food that he could afford. 

He had made sure the room was in absolute best condition, that his pillows were always fluffed and bed always made, even if Ludwig insisted he wanted to do it on his own. 

He taught him everything about the basics of civilization, how to read more complex sentences, how to play the piano and the violin, even how to dance. He took him with him to work, across the city and sometimes even country to places he had at best read about and to meet so many new people.

His next Sanctbruma and 12th birthday were the most extravagant he had ever had. 

Yet…

Yet something was missing. 

Despite the man’s kindness, he felt something wasn’t right. Ludwig couldn’t put a finger on what, and he felt awful about it to be sure; he did so much for him, what more could a boy ask for?

But yet…

Sure, Erzsébet never completely warmed up to him; even if she wasn’t as cold to him, according to Lutz she was merely tolerating him. And the same was true for many of the servants. 

But that didn’t change the fact that Roderich himself was nothing but loving towards him. Even if he had curfews and other such rules, he never had trouble with rules. His mother raised him to obey rules. And while he was often busy, he still tried his best to spend time with him.

Finally, he actually had someone who resembled a parent after all those years. He should have been thankful. 

But he wasn’t doing anything wrong. 

Someone had to be doing something wrong. 

At times, he still lay awake at night, those lonely days and nights and that fateful Sanctbruma playing back in his mind; as well as the accompanying emotions of pure hatred and wrath. 

Once, Roderich has entered the room at an inopportune time to Ludwig curled up in his bed, seething, growling at him to leave him alone. 

While he didn’t say anything about it at dinner, it was obvious he was disturbed by it. 

“...Lutz. Why can’t I be happy? I still feel alone, but I don’t even know why.”

<Maybe you’ve been alone for too long. You’re past the point of return, kid. Maybe you should come to peace with it.>

“At least I have you.”

<Whatever.>

———

“Ludwig.”

“Ja, Onkel Roderich?”

The man sighed.

“It has been over a year since you started living with us. What is it with your standoffish behavior? Is something wrong? I will listen to it.”

“...I just can’t, Onkel.”

“Excuse me?”

“I… Something just doesn’t feel right. I don’t know why.”

The man looked so disappointed.

“I try my best to make you happy, Ludwig. I really do. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to satisfy your needs.”

“Nein. It isn’t that.”

Roderich shook his head.

“As I was saying… the chords for this piece are…”

—————

Ludwig continued to do his practice drills whenever possible, even if they had taken a different shape; makeshift targets became proper shooting galleries, improvised exercises became possible using an open space between buildings and proper equipment. And as he grew more and more by the day, his physical abilities took leaps and bounds above what he had been capable of before. He just wished he could go more than weekly. At first, Roderich objected, but it didn’t take long for him to cave in. 

After all, he had to keep himself in shape, especially as he now had access to all the candy and chocolate that could be plausibly afforded. 

After a while, Roderich started to continuously try to ask him to consider other options in this weekly time slot. He was never too forceful, however. And after a while, as Ludwig expressed his clear annoyance, it finally ceased just as it had begun. 

There was another episode that irked Ludwig.

One night, as he went to get a glass of water, he had seen Roderich, seemingly sneaking away from his room. 

“...Onkel?”

The man bristled as soon as he turned on the lights. 

“Erm… Ludwig, I didn’t expect you to be awake..

Then, Ludwig saw it. 

In his hands was his mother’s necklace. 

“...What are you doing with Mutter’s necklace?”

He immediately stuffed it inside his pocket and turned around, a fake smile on his face. 

“What necklace, my dear Ludwig?”

“I know you’re hiding it.”

The man sighed, taking it back out again. 

“I… I wanted to put it in a place it will be safer in.”

Ludwig tried not to grill him further, even as he felt something fueled by doubt start to boil within him. 

“I’m sure it will be safe with me. It’s been so for all the years I’ve had it. Can I have it back now?”

“...Ja.”

Ludwig swiftly took it back, going down to get his glass. He really needed one. 

“You could tell a servant to get it for you?”

“No. I prefer to do it on my own.”

When Ludwig had returned to his room, he had quite the things to say to Lutz. 

“Lutz. Why did you let him take it?”

<I was sleepy, kid. Why do you care about that thing so much?>

“It’s from Mutter. You should know. ...Lutz. If anything, protect this with your life.”

<Oh come on now.>

“I’m serious. It’ll be the last thing I ask of you.”

<Alright, alright. Whatever.>

“You aren’t sincere, are you?”

<What do you want from me? Good night.>

——————

One day, as Ludwig overheard some servants speaking to each other in hushed voices, glancing at him every so often. 

He was able to catch two things; “Miss Erzsébet” and “barren”.

He wasn’t exactly sure what that meant. But for whatever reason he didn’t like the sound of it. 

That night, after some shouting, once again Roderich stormed out of the master bedroom, telling Erzsébet to “Get a hold of yourself already, you indecipherable woman!”, to his own separate room, as Erzsébet shouted some words back that sounded really angry and probably inappropriate. 

<There goes the lovely couple.>

Lutz thought, as Ludwig tried to sleep. Lutz, meanwhile, had no trouble. 

————

13-year-old Ludwig stood outside of the bar, alongside Lutz, as always, and other members of his gang. 

It was in a seedy, rough part of town. And it was where their rival gang frequented most often. 

It wasn’t the most well-to-do of bars, to say the least; as soon as they entered, the air smelt pungently of alcohol, and ambiently of various nasties. 

<Ergh. Try coming here as a dog.>

They immediately saw their target; the offending gang’s leader. 

Their leader went up to confront her rival, fists clearly ready to fly. 

“Hey! We know ya killed him!”

“Who?”

The rival boss said, with a cheeky grin. 

“Ya know who!”

The two continued to escalate their argument, until they became close to blows.

“Enough yammerin’! Get ‘em, boys n’ girls!”

Suddenly, they were grabbed by the rival gang bangers, including Ludwig, who held back a yelp. 

“We didn’t kill one of yer ratpack, asshole! Now get out or we’re gonna force ya out!”

“...You better tell us.”

Ludwig said, tersely, utilizing his now lowering voice and copying his mother’s tone. 

The rival boss laughed.

“Or what, kid? What are ya gonna do, huh? Man your recruiting standards have gone down!”

His boss smirked. 

“Ya better listen to the kid.”

“Or what?”

They laughed uproariously. 

“Lutz. Restrain.”

Their laughing instantly stopped, their faces going sheet white, all the other bar patrons, the bartender, and staff turning to gawk. 

For they bore witness to the gang boss being pinned down, on the floor, between the claws of a giant, terrifying hellhound, its eyes glowing, its fangs bared, its breath in the unfortunate gangster’s terrified face. 

Ludwig walked up to the rival boss with measured steps, the gangsters holding him having let go out of sheer terror, the thumping of his feet the only sounds other than his companion’s breathing and the squeaks and sputtering from bystanders and rival gangsters, and pulled out his old pistol, aiming it at the thug’s head, glaring daggers so sharp that they could gouge eyes out. 

Show your enemy no mercy.

Once again, he thought he felt his mother voice in his ear. 

“Tell us the truth.”

The rival boss sputtered, shaking like a leaf, looking awfully smaller than the much younger boy. 

“We… we… d-d-di…”

Ludwig cocked his pistol.

“Speak in a real language!”

The rival boss flinched, and the rest of the rival gang huddled, terrified. 

“W-we didn’t do anything! I-I swear! I swear!”

Ludwig lowered his pistol slightly. 

“...Really?”

“J-ja! I swear! I swear by both the Heavenly and Hellish Yards! P-p-please let me go, Sir!”

“...Alright. Lutz, release.”

The dog shrank back down to size, returning to his original, fluffy, cute self. 

His boss grumbled. 

“Whoop. That was pointless. Lud, let’s get outta this dump.”

They turned to leave, the other people in the bar still staring at them. 

“W-Wait.”

Ludwig and his boss turned back to the humiliated rival boss. 

“We might’ve not killed ‘im. But I-I have a good idea who might’ve.”

———-

“So, Lud. Good job today. We’ve got ourselves a lead.”

“Jawohl.”

Their boss patted Ludwig on the head and gave the group a once-over. 

“Ok. You’re all dismissed.”

Ludwig was quick to leave, the others staring after him.

“What’s it with him? I swear, it’s like he doesn’t wanna be associated with us.”

“He said something about a curfew.”

“Really? Kid still follows curfews? What is he, 10?”

-----------------

When Ludwig came back, Roderich was waiting for him. 

“Ludwig.”

“Onkel Roderich?”

Roderich’s expression was serious and stern. 

“...What have you been doing?”

“What do you mean, Onkel Roderich?”

Roderich held Ludwig’s shoulders. 

“Let me state this plainly.”

He took a deep breath. 

“You’re involved in gang activity, aren’t you?”

 Ludwig was in shock.

“How…”

Roderich shook his head, his hand on his forehead. 

“Ludwig. I am sure even Julchen taught you to obey rules.”

“I… I don’t want to depend on you for everything. I feel like a leech.”

Roderich was shocked.

“You’re only 13, Ludwig! It is alright! It isn’t worth putting yourself at risk like this!”

“I don’t know how to do anything else.”

Roderich shook his head.

“Don’t say that. You could deliver newspapers, or use those piano skills I taught you-“

“And they’re my friends.”

“Friends?! I care for you, why do you need them?! Do you even know any of their names?!”

“...” 

“You’re going to get into trouble eventually, young man.”

“I… I know!”

Roderich flinched. 

Ludwig looked down and stormed back into the house, Lutz running behind him, into his room, throwing himself onto his bed. 

“Hmph, teenagers...”

Erzsébet mumbled. 

—————-

“Ludwig?”

Roderich opened the door to Ludwig’s room that night, peeking in.

Ludwig couldn’t bare to look him in the eye. 

“I’m sorry.”

Roderich sighed.

“Is it because I’m not Julchen?”

The boy felt a pang of guilt. 

“I’m sorry! I don’t hate you, I’m thankful for what you’ve done, and-”

“I see. Just try to forget about her, alright?”

Ludwig froze. He felt like someone had stabbed his heart. 

“But…”

“I do so much for you. I give you everything. What was it that she had that I don’t? I’ve been a far better parent than that stone-hearted, cruel, cold-”

<Oh no. You’ve done it now.>

“DON’T SAY THAT ABOUT MY MUTTER!”

His voice cracked terribly, but he didn’t care. 

Roderich stumbled back, his face pale, horrified. 

Silence. 

“Ludwig… I’m sorry.”

Ludwig buried his face into his pillows. 

“...I’ll tell the servants to bring you dinner. I’m sorry. I really am.”

“Leave me alone!”

“...I’m happy with any path you want to take. Just please stay safe.”

Roderich sighed and closed the door. 

From that day on, Roderich started informing Ludwig of where police may find him, and locations of stations across the city. Anything for his safety, he had said. 

But from that day on Ludwig knew; he knew that his suspicions were true, that all this time he was trying to make him forget about his mother. He couldn’t let that happen. It was only confirmation when he heard him brutally disparage her one night in a drunken stupor during one of his binge-drinking sessions.

Once again, Ludwig could trust no one.

And once again, wrath simmered within him.

----------------

Their boss summoned Ludwig and the rest of the gang to a gathering; to sort out their clues, they had said. 

Ludwig was appreciated for his abilities; but outside of the action, he sat somewhat removed from the rest. He couldn’t connect with them much either. 

His mother had despised lawbreakers; “scum”, “rats”, she would call them. If she knew what he was doing now, she would have caned his palms until they were raw and bleeding. She would have told him he was better than this. He never would have imagined he could stoop this low too. After all, he was his mother’s only son. He should have been destined for greatness.

Quite honestly, he didn’t fully understand what he was doing here either. How did he even get here? Was it just a business affair? Were they really his friends? 

Maybe it was because this was the closest thing to military service he could find. Even if it were on the other side of the law. 

A girl a year or so older than him, the second youngest in the gang, came up to him attempting to speak to him. Ludwig hesitated, but in the end continued to be fascinated with the clues they had and Lutz. 

“Hey give up on Herr Stick-In-The-Mud already! Bet he’s never even kissed a girl!”

A gangster said, using the nickname they often used when ribbing him.

“What’s with him? He to good for us?” One of them muttered when Ludwig refused a drink.  

“Ja. Imagine being one of us and caring about drinking ages. Never can understand Herr Stick-In-The-Mud.”

“Ja. Where was he raised, His Majesty’s Elite Imperial Barracks?”

“Hey, hey, did you hear that Boss might have the hots for him too?”

“Why don’t you fuckwits shut the fuck up?” Their boss barked at the last one. “The kid’s basically an infant!”

<You’re the most rule-bound gangster I’ve ever seen.>

“Why do they treat it as a bad thing?”

<You’re the one who joined a street gang, genius. They’ve got different rules.>

Ludwig looked at the bottle of cheap moonshine he had been offered again, sighed, and took a gulp. 

He immediately gagged. 

The last time he’d had booze was when Roderich had allowed him to try beer, and even then he had basically diluted half of it with water and it definitely didn’t taste like... whatever this bottle of horse urine was. 

“Ack! This is awful! ...I did it, are you happy now?”

“That’s the spirit!”

“Doesn’t count! He gagged!”

Ludwig took a deep breath.

“Let’s get back on topic. We are discussing the murder of a fellow comrade. This is no time for inane chatter.”

Finally, the air became solemn.

“Ja, reasonable, I guess…”

“Now, onto the information Scout 2 gathered...”

—————-

Ludwig, more than anything, considered himself a logical person. 

He and his mother both despised vagueness. It seemed pointless, really, all the dancing around the true meaning of your words in the name of “politeness”. While apparently many in this part of the continent were considered similarly blunt and practical, it seemed even then he was exceptional. 

So his own emotional turmoil, how he could never seem to explain himself, frustrated him more than anyone else. It angered him. 

But one thing he knew for sure was that he looked forward to stopping by the library on the way home. Thank goodness Roderich had taught him to read to a level more appropriate for his age; it was difficult at first, but he was also fortunately a fast learner. 

He always had taken a fascination with the sciences. They were at first glance unpredictable, but once broken down and observed, logical. They made sense, they were rational. Recently, he started finding them more investing than fiction, in fact. And his new reading skills finally made the higher levels of it beyond simplistic drawings attempting to explain the laws of physics and magic accessible.

Which was why today he sat outside the library in his usual spot, looking through a medical encyclopedia, munching on one of many bars of dark chocolate and a small loaf of bread.

Lutz licked up pieces of chocolate Ludwig had given him, peeking from under him.

“HERS?”

<Hereditary Evil Raiser Syndrome.>

Ludwig looked to Lutz in shock. 

<A rare genetic, psychiatric disorder with no known cause. Those afflicted by Hereditary Evil Raiser Syndrome, a Hereditary Evil Raiser, or HER, is said to be at their core an incarnation of malice, "programmed" to destroy the gods, everything they created and everything related to them. Therefore, as a natural prerequisite, they typically show extreme cruelty and having the compulsion to increase their own kind and ensure the continuation of their "mission" to spread malice by any means necessary, taking immense pleasure in doing so. Currently there is no known cure, though in high-functioning individuals it may be managed, and manifest in lesser ways.>

“How…”

<I have my ways.>

“Though… Hereditary Evil Raiser Syndrome? Who names this stuff?”

<Hey. They probably had their reasons.>

“Why do you care? Did you come up with it?”

<Maybe. Plus, that’s rich coming from the kid who literally named me “Blackie”.>

Ludwig sighed. 

“I... Fine. And wait... are you reading with me?”

<Yeah, I can read. I never told you?>

Ludwig continue to stare at him.

“I... I just didn’t think you would...”

<Turn the page already. I already know this.>

"Maybe you could try reading a novel, Lutz?”

<Don’t care. Why should I care about what you flesh-apes think, much less fake ones? No one in the world knows what I’m thinking anyway.> 

Ludwig closed the encyclopedia. 

“You mean you feel that no one understands you, right?”

Lutz looked up, his ears erect.

His words struck him like a spark of lightning. 

“That makes two of us”

An awkward few moments passed. For once in his life, Lutz had nothing to retort back. 

Why was he so shocked? 

Ludwig blinked, confused. 

“Lutz? What’s wrong?”

<...Nothing.>

Lutz didn’t know what he had just felt. 

“That makes two of us”

It should have meant nothing, coming from this brat. 

But yet...

Whatever. It probably still meant nothing.

-------------------------

“We’ve got our guy! Rich bastard’s not gonna know what hit ‘im.”

Their boss said, confidently, gesturing to an assassin she had bought into their abandoned factory hideout. 

The assassin looked across the crowd of gangsters.

“So. Which one of you brats wants to come?”

“Actually, we’ve got a good clue already for who’s gonna be a good fit for this mission.”

Ludwig waited, anxiously. He would gladly take the job of avenging his fallen comrade, of course. 

“Ludwig!”

Ludwig stood to attention.

“...You’ll be providing nice clothes for us to blend in!”

Ludwig was speechless.

“How… Why?”

<Turns out you aren’t as tough as you thought. Better luck next time, kid.>

But when all had left, he went up to his boss. He needed answers.

“Why am I excluded?”

She looked at him as if he was stupid.

“I don’t think ‘Giant Enemy Dog’ is a viable weapon to use on a cruise ship.”

“But… I can shoot well too! You said I was a great marksman!”

“You’re good. Gotta say that. Still, don’t know about your skills in stealth yet. Can’t risk it. Now, see ya.”

Then, she abruptly cut him off and left.

-----------------

Three days later, Ludwig and the rest of the gang not chosen for the plot awaited at the dock. 

Soon, they spotted the assassination party, coming towards them. 

One person was clearly missing. 

“Hey! Boss! ...Boss? And where’s...”

Her face was dire.

“Shot dead. ...He spotted us.”

“He saw all our faces. All of you are fucked. We’re all fucked.”

More silence.

“...WHAT?!”

Silence immediately gave way to panic.

Ludwig stood, frozen.

“How… Why…”

He clutched his head, overwhelmed.

“But it can’t…”

Emotions swirled inside the boy, overpowering all of his senses, all of his thoughts. 

What was going to happen to him? His friends? 

“No, no, no, nonononononono…”

<You know what to do, kid.>

Suddenly, he bolted. 

Along the harbor, he ran. 

Then, in a burst of emotion and without much thought, as if on instinct, he acted immediately as Lutz took a running leap into the sea. 

“SIC ‘EM, LUTZ!”

He didn’t even bother with the telepathy. 

Everyone could only look on in shock and horror as Lutz became an utter behemoth of a beast, seemingly not completely solid and with a godlike glow, his tail alone twice the size of the ship; to those who were watching from afar, it would have looked as if a demon dog had risen out of the sea itself. 

The ship was no match for the beast. Before anyone could fully comprehend what was going on, the ship had been sunk, every single person on it with it.

----------------

Ludwig walked back to the gang, who all stood staring at him, utterly horrified.

Finally, someone broke the silence.

“...Holy shit.”

Another turned to him, their eyes wide.

“...Lud? Did you just…”. 

The boy’s mind was blank. What could he even say?

He had killed all of them. Every single one of them.

But in the end...

“Mission accomplished…?”

“Am I trippin’?”

“Did we just witness a massacre?”

“...What the fuck?”

Ludwig took a deep breath.

“But we accomplished our mission. ...I did what I had to do.”

“Ja, but… Holy shit.”

“In anyway…”

Their boss cleared her throat.

“Let’s… Let’s go with this loot before the cops find out.”

The rest could only muster a “Ja” in unison.

Lutz trotted up to Ludwig, as unbothered as always.

“Lutz…”

<Just did as I was told. Don’t complain to me. Here.>

In the dog’s jaws was a doll; an eerily faceless, unusual, porcelain-ish doll of indeterminable gender.

<Here. I brought a present.>

“What is…”

<Have it. Since I can’t give you Sancbruma presents, here it is, months early.>

“It’s… it’s probably from a dead child, Lutz!”

<Don’t be ungrateful. Oh, and your buddies are waiting. You should go.>

“...Ja. I did what I had to do. We killed him. That’s all that should matter…”

————-

The news of the shipwreck was all over the radio. They had listened to it in their hideout, huddled around the device. 

“The perpetrator is currently unknown. However, many claim to have heard the voice of a boy or young man scream for the dog to attack…”

————-

When Ludwig came home, Roderich was standing in front of the door, in shock. 

“Ludwig…”

“Onkel?”

“...It was you wasn’t it?”

Ludwig looked down to his feet. 

“Lutz, specifically…”

<Hey.>

Roderich pulled him into a protective embrace. 

“You could have put yourself in so much danger! What if the police find out about you?! Don’t you dare do that again.”

"...”

Roderich pulled him in. 

“Now, come in before someone recognizes you.”

—————

Roderich rarely ever let him join the rest of the gang since that day; it was too dangerous, he had said. 

He went out in mostly in a dark hood for a disguise, at times without Lutz, for over the radio, one expert had identified the beast as “a black Fenrir transformed with powerful magic.” 

Later that year, a month before Sancbruma and two months before his 14th birthday, he had heard something unusual. 

<Ludwig… Ludwig…>

“Huh?”

Telepathy. But Lutz wasn’t with him; it came from the doll in his bag. 

Ever since that fateful day, Lutz had told him to carry it for some vague reason he couldn’t understand; his alleged simple explanation was “It’s amusing to see you carry around a girly doll like that.”

<Ludwig...>

He took the bag off his back and looked in.

<Someone is after you. You have been found out. You must run.>

“What?! How do you…”

<Do not ask. Please, please run… you must.> 

He slung it back over his shoulder.

“Lutz!”

He had to get Lutz. Now. 

But by the time he had gotten home, it was too late. 

“No, Sir, he is not here. You will not find him here…”

“There he is!”

Two figures stood with Roderich; two figures he didn’t recognize. 

A tanned, sturdy-looking man in a black suit, probably from the south of the continent, turned his attention away from Roderich, and pointed at Ludwig, gun in hand. 

“Ludwig Beildshmidt! You are under arrest!”

Ludwig’s eyes widened. Emotions and stress once again blitzed through him. 

“Lutz! Restrain! ...Lutz? Lutz?!”

His eyes darted next to the man to the other figure, what Ludwig thought to be a long-haired, somewhat tall foreign woman in eastern attire, her dark, raven hair pulled back into a ponytail; seemingly holding Lutz back without touching the dog, but clearly struggling. 

“Hurry!”

She shouted, in a foreign accent Ludwig didn’t recognize. 

Ludwig bolted. 

“Don’t you dare, you-“

“Herr Edelmann! Stop, or you will be arrested as well for interfering with police procedure!”

“Don’t touch him!”

The mysterious man finally shoved the weaker-looking man off him and gave chase, but Roderich grappling with him had given him some extra time...

“Ludwig! RUN! RUN!”

But before Ludwig could escape, all of a sudden he was blindsided by a third person, jumping on his back and pinning him down, the boy’s small body no match for the adult. 

“LUDWIG!”

“Let me go, LET ME GO!”

That was the last thing he remembered saying before he had been slammed on the back of the head. 

Ludwig blacked out.

To be continued in part 2...

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Author’s notes:

So I had to split this thing in half since it became much longer than I expected. Wow this is a monster. You will see the parts listed here after I write them. Parts, because this will have two different routes! Hopefully! Then again it seems like no one read this... 

Also, the scene with the sea is even more ambiguous “canon” in this already ambiguously “canon” story, but I wanted to write it in because I liked it, having seen the idea that Prussia has some kind of connection to the sea before and liking it. I wish I could find it now. I think Alt-Prussia would have grown up with the sea when he was younger, and while he would stay very strictly a land fighter (in fact the Prussian navy was never all that good, being mostly a merchant fleet. Even the German navy, while it did go through a growth period in the 1880s in competition with Britain I believe, by WWII at least their Kriegsmarine kind of sucked. It’s why the invasion of Britain never happened, their navy would have been laughably curbstomped), and I still associate England, Netherlands, or Portugal way more with the ocean, maybe the North Sea has some kind of soothing effect on him.