"Discharged? Isn't that a little too soon, Father?" Heinrich asked, his voice a mix of concern and surprise.
Maria let go of Father Bekker's robe, her expression echoing the same question.
"I shared your concern, initially," Father Bekker conceded, his tone taking on a measured, pastoral calm.
"But the Lord's mercy is a profound mystery. Despite the grievous nature of his wounds, Herr Friedrich not only managed to survive, but his body mended at a speed I can only deem remarkable."
His gaze grew distant, as he recalled the memory of the healing wound. "It is a testament to a strong constitution, and... divine favor."
He made the sign of the cross over his chest, his eyes briefly glancing toward one of the images on the stained glass.
"Where is he now?" Maria inquired, the worry never leaving her face. Noticing the soft echo of her words ricocheting through the walls, she softened her voice, "Did he say where he'd go?"
Pulling Maria close, Heinrich whispered into her ear, "Easy, my dear."
After comforting his wife, he turned to Father Bekker. "How was he when he woke up? And did he say where he'd go?"
"He asked about his family," Father Bekker replied, his expression turning solemn once more.
"And asked that I show him where they lay. The... experience however was too much for him. And he had to leave before he could even look upon them. But before he left, he said he needed to put his affairs and that of his family in order."
Clearing his throat, he gestured vaguely towards the main doors, "Although he did not specify a destination, where else would a son go but home?"
The Kata estate. The familiar image of the manor he'd sold to an ambitious and hopeful Albert immediately flashed in Heinrich's mind.
Slowly rubbing his hands on his chins in a contemplative gesture, he muttered, "I see. Thank you, Father, you have been of great help."
Seeing Father Bekker nod, he added, "Before we leave, I have a favour to ask."
"By all means, Herr Heinrich," Father Bekker replied. "If it's something I can help with, I naturally would."
Taking a deep breath, Heinrich said, his voice dropping to a somber and lower cadence. "We would uhm... we would like to pay our respects. To Albert and Marta and the rest of the family. Before we go find Friedrich."
"Of course," Father Bekker nodded, his expression softening with understanding. "It is only right that you do."
Shooting a quick glance at Hannah, Johann and their siblings, he added, "The young ones however will stay up here. It's not exactly a sight suitable for children."
Heinrich and Maria nodded in understanding, prompting a smile to his face. "Alright then. Follow me."
With that, he began walking toward a shadowy archway tucked in between two massive stone pillars on the other side of the nave.
Upon getting to it, he pushed the rustic cross in the hand of a sculpted figure up, then to the right, then lastly to the left.
A second later, the slow grinding of stone against stone rolled through the air, revealing a dimly lit stairway, with the thick, musty scent of damp air.
Two minutes later, the damp air took on an aromatic flavour, as the stairs gave way to a dimly lit crypt.
After introducing Heinrich and Maria to his fellow priest's, Father Bekker lead them to the section where they kept the bodies that had been cleaned and embalmed.
Walking close to the bodies, Father Bekker slowly squatted, gently pulling back the clothes back from the faces of two adult figures.
Upon seeing the charred female face now laid bare, Maria's hand instinctively clasped her mouth shut.
Heinrich on the other hand walked closer to the male figure, his gaze briefly crossing the distinct outline of the ring on its finger.
For a moment he stood dazed, a wave of sorrow washing over him.
Maria on the other hand shuffled forward, then knelt close to Marta's body. She gently brushed a strand of hair from the scarred, and cold forehead, softly whispering her goodbyes.
Four minutes later, she slowly stood up. Turning around, she saw Heinrich conversing with Father Bekker and one of the priest's, in a low tone.
Taking a deep breath, she wiped the tears on her face, and approached her husband. As she got close, she overheard a snippet of the conversation that was already nearing its end.
"Please, it's really not an issue." Heinrich said, waving his hand. "Besides it's the least I can do for Albert and his family given all he's done for me."
Turning to the side, he asked Maria, "Are you all set." Seeing her nod, he thanked the priest's once more, and followed Father Bekker out the crypt.
After rejoining their kids, Heinrich an Maria thanked Father Bekker once more, then excusing themselves out.
Outside, the sun covered the whole square, bathing it in warm orange.
Before Heinrich could search for their carriage, his second son pointed toward one of the buildings which had a protruding roof.
Seeing the Keese approach the carriage with urgent steps, the coachman jumped down, and opened its door.
The moment he climbed in, Heinrich commanded, "To the Kata estate. And make haste with it!"
•••
On a winding cobblestone path in the middle of Hamburg, a young man of about twenty, leaned against the walls of a street store that had a protruding roof.
The dust and sweat clinging to his cloth, coupled with his laborious breathing, gave him an overall disheveled appearance, nothing like the confident Frederich that left the Church of Saint Peter's almost an hour ago.
Slowly rubbing his chest, he squinted at the sun, while muttering to himself, "What times it it now?"
Taking a deep breath, he looked down the street, only to notice a small fountain peeking out the corner of an adjoining street.
A sight he'd passed at least three times now in his search for the Kata estate.
Fuck me! He thought, slowly wiping the sweat off his face. Should've known having the memories wouldn't mean I'd be able to do it on first trial.
"Oi." A loud, grizzly voice reverberated inside the store.
Turning around, Friedrich saw the shopkeeper, a man wth a frame so large it strained the seem of his clothes, peek out. "Scram from there you tramp."
Picking up a crooked stick on the leg of the table beside him, he added, "And don't make me repeat myself."
The shopkeepers remark, which felt like rubbing salt to injury, added to the frustration of walking around Hamburg for almost an hour, causing Friedrich to lash back, "Who are you calling a tramp, you fat pig?"
For a brief interlude, the air between them turned heavy, with the sounds of the outside world fading to silence.
Then with renewed rage, the shopkeeper shot to his feet, with speed that seemed at odds with his figure. "I'm calling you a tramp! And who are you calling a fat pig?"
Waving the stick in his hand, he bellowed, "Stand there and see if my stick doesn't hit you!" Before rushing toward Friedrich.
"Oh shit." Friedrich cursed out loud. Turning around, he fled down the street. As he took his fourth step, his mind suddenly screamed frantically.
The next second, a crooked stick flew past his head, then snapped into two upon hitting the ground.
Turning around, he saw the fat shopkeeper screaming at the top of his voice, while pointing at him.
Before he could hurl back his own insult an armed guard approached the shopkeeper, clearly drawn by the commotion.
Friedrich's eyes shrunk at the sight. Abandoning his retort, he quickly sped up, cutting into the next street, then the next, his steps never slowing down.
About three minutes later, he stumbled out from the series of narrow and winding cobblestone paths, into a wider pathway.
Briefly gasping for air, hands immediately dropped to his knees. A dull sensation pulsed beneath the bandage on his chest, reminding him of his physical situation.
After a minute of recollecting himself, he stood upright, then looked behind him, into the adjacent street, barely a second later, he sighed in relief.
Wiping the sweat off his face, he turned around, immediately sighting a row of medium-sized manor perched atop the small hill in the distance.
One of them in particular, struck him with familiarity. The way its slate-shingled roofs met in the middle, and gave way to a an attic with circular window on its face, and a medium-sized chimney on too.
The Kata estate. He thought, his hands slipping into his pocket with poise. Finally.