In the courtyard of Xandra’s inn, the rays of a spring sun shone down through the December day as lilacs bloomed fully. A vibrant green carpeted the ground, while butterflies and honeybees danced around the flowers.
The Count watched this scene from his window before turning back to his room, sitting in a chair by the fireplace, and leaning into the backrest. The courtyard stayed in constant spring and his room was warm, while a bitter cold assaulted the area around the inn.
Nazi Germany’s invasion of Poland catalyzed the start of Europe’s second great war, which was really a continuation of the previous one. Those last twenty years had been nothing more than a long respite from the fighting.
Milos still fought in Eastern Europe. In 1918, at the end of Europe’s Great War, Serbia, Croatia, and Slovenia came together to form the Kingdom of Yugoslavia. But in April 1941, Nazi Germany and its allies invaded. The kingdom was again divided into occupied territories, with one region controlled by the Independent State of Croatia, which was a puppet state of Germany and Italy; one region controlled by Italy; one region controlled by the Kingdom of Hungary; and one region controlled by the Kingdom of Bulgaria. The sundered region of the kingdom once called Serbia fell under the control of Nazi Germany. Milos yet again began fighting Germans to win back his homeland. He seemed destined to never stop fighting. Who knew if that day would ever come.
Someone rapped on the door, and Xandra entered. She looked worked half to death.
Recently, people had been fleeing here in numbers that put the last war to shame. Xandra had her hands full dealing with it all. The majority of arrivals were refugees. Anyone looking at their shattered expressions and the fear on their faces from the massacres and persecution would understand the horrors going on in the larger world without ever setting foot outside, grumbled Xandra.
The door inside the inn that Jörg had used to let his corpus and his friend flee overseas remained. The refugees flocked to the inn to use it.
Jörg still acted as Lila’s bodyguard while running his trade business—having hired Diana and the other working women right away, as promised—involving himself even further with humans. He told anyone looking to flee Europe about the door and led them to it.
People leaped through portals to the inn and then traveled to their land of refuge. He only told them about the door and left the rest to them. So while Xandra managed the traffic, she did no more beyond selling healing elixirs to those who wanted them. The refugees who visited the inn could finally relax. They thanked Xandra profusely and passed through a new door filled with hope, even though they could imagine the hardships that waited for them at the destination.
For the Count, the whole thing resembled scenery viewed from a moving train. It meant little to him, and he stayed out of it. He paid attention to only one thing: Lila.
As Xandra threw herself into a chair looking as if she’d finally found a moment to rest, the Count muttered, “Lila hasn’t come back. And it’s been a while since the Nazis took over Poland.”
“This is precisely when Jörg will be protecting her,” Xandra continued. “No one is as upset and troubled by Germany’s invasion of Poland as he is. I’m sure he and Lila are working tirelessly to liberate Poland. Lila’s a grown-up now, so she must be connected with some very devoted people.”
“I wonder if she ever became a teacher. Or do you think she’s doing something else?”
“Knowing her, whatever she’s doing, she’s giving it her all. She speaks up if something bothers her, and she’s all smiles when she’s enjoying herself, all while sharing good meals with people from other countries.”
“And Nazis despise people like that.”
Xandra leaned back in her chair with a smile. “If you’re so worried, why not go to Poland and check up on her?”
“It’s not that I haven’t considered it.”
“We could always make some more people like us. Like Nil said, you can make a kingdom of the undead to oppose humanity.”
“A wretched idea. And far too complicated.”
“Then trust in Jörg and Lila and wait.”
The Count stared intently at the fire burning in the fireplace. “…Honestly, I’d be lying to say I never considered that. If every human became immortal, then the reasons behind all this senseless killing and war would disappear completely. Murder and war lose all meaning in a world where no one ever dies. But humans are mysterious creatures. If they became immortal, then they might become more malicious than real monsters now. So I have to be careful about what I do.”
“What a pain to consider.”
“Indeed.”
The Count looked away from the flames and back to Xandra. “What do you imagine Nil is up to?”
“It’s a good era for him. He’s most certainly enjoying the nothing that this world keeps creating. He must be gallivanting around, enjoying good food and cigars with foolish government officials, idiotic generals, and people who happily keep creating new weapons, all while walking hand in hand with Death.”
“…If so, then I’ll have to face him someday.” The Count stood from his chair. “It’s a shame that I must, but it’s my duty.”