The Footsteps to Freedom

Prologue

It was a dark and stormy night. Rain came down heavily, and almost no one was out. Nevertheless, the storm continued on, and the wind’s piercing whistles filled the air. The full moon shone heavily on the kingdom of Westphalia. The tree leaves were soaked with water, and the raindrops continued to knock onto the rooftops. Water splashed as someone stepped into a puddle, not stopping to shake the water of their boot.  The figure hurried on, not wanting to catch his death in this storm. He moved slyly, ducking into allies every now and then to avoid the streets lit with streetlamps. The stranger’s footsteps were barely heard as the person made his way across the cobblestones. Breathing evenly, the figure stopped in front of a building, and knocked carefully. The door opened a crack, and a woman’s face slowly appeared. No words were spoken. The stranger handed something over to the woman inside, and she simply nodded. Without another gesture, the stranger stealthily took off again, and when the morning came, not a single soul knew he had ever appeared.