Through Blood

Chapter 1: Death

Rain fell steadily on the black umbrellas of those present. It painted the light grey tombstones a dark grey and crudely imitated Ivy's tears. Perhaps the skies wept for him as well.

Yvonne Köhler, or Ivy, as everyone knew her, was a 19 year old living in Berlin. She was born in Kiel on a cold Spring morning of 1920.  Her birth came at a time when Germany was submerged in depression, right after The Great War, and she grew up in a time of economic growth and flourishing success, all due to the Nazi party. Her hero, the nation's hero, Führer Adolf Hitler, had been the saviour of an unemployed, starved, and broken Germany.

Yet not everyone was keen to Hitler nor accepted his methods of diplomacy. While he had taken the country back to its former glory and brought back its old traditions which were almost lost in the frenzy of the Roaring Twenties, even those who valued traditions disliked him. Among those people were Ivy's mother, Simone, and her grandparents, Gerda and Antoine Neumann.

Antoine in particular had disliked the Führer because he had been able to see past his façade of peacekeeper. He had known, deep down, that all Adolf wanted was another war. Yet Antoine had always assured those around him that there wasn't going to be another war. He had fought in The Great War, for France, yet he mourned Germany's losses too and never considered it his real enemy. He even fell in love with a German girl he met in Paris.

His assertion of another war between his birth nation and his nation of residence being unlikely had been more for himself than anyone else. An hour after the announcement of a new war with Great Britain came the news of France joining the war.

Upon hearing the news of another war of powerful nations, of his two beloved countries yet again, his already upset heart could take no more. A strong, overwhelming pain in his chest that left him breathless turned out to be a heart attack. It wasn't the first time he'd had one, and despite his doctor's best efforts, his tired heart gave up.

At the age of 65, Antoine died a few hours after the news of war. His last moments had been in his bed, surrounded by most of his family. He had a son, also named Antoine, who lived in Paris and they could only contact him by mail. It would take days for him to have word of his father's death. The only other person missing had been Kristian, Ivy's brother. Although they had phoned him many times, the family hadn't been able to speak with him, and these weren't the sort of news one could leave as a message with a stranger.

Ivy remembered the moment she had alone by her Opa's side, clutching his hand tightly, hoping that if she held on to him tight enough he would not slip into darkness. In his last moments he struggled to speak, but he managed to say to her "Be strong, ma chérie. This war... won't last long, I hope. But you stay strong no matter... how long... and follow your heart..." he gasped for air. He pointed at her heart and repeated "Follow... it..."

Ivy didn't cry in front of him, as to not upset him, she simply nodded. The doctor then came into the room and asked Ivy to step out as he checked on Antoine once more. That was the last time she saw him, because he died not long after and she couldn't stand to see him lifeless. She hadn't been ready to say goodbye, and now she never could.

It was fitting that it would be raining on the day of his funeral. Autumn was on its way, and preceding it were the cold winds and rain. Ivy was glad, because had that day been sunny and warm, it would have made the whole scenario a lot more surreal. She already felt as though it was all a dream, or a rather a nightmare, and that it hadn't really happened. Her Opa hadn't really just died. Her country was not really going to war with France and Britain once more.

Follow your heart... I always follow my heart, don't I? What does my heart tell me? What good does the heart do, when it failed you, Opa? Please come back to us, Opa, please. She stared at the tombstone where he laid. The priest continued to recite prayers in Latin and occasionally French.