"The Half-Blood Arc: Ashes of War - Volume 1"

Part 23

As Matthias slowly woke from his slumber, the comforting aroma of a crackling fireplace filled his senses. Blinking away the remnants of sleep, he felt the gentle wind greet his body, evoking a sense of comfort and nostalgia. The wind sounded like a whisper, akin to footsteps crunching leaves. Amidst the rustle, he heard the voice of his lovely wife saying, "Look at him, he's taking his first steps." The walking stopped, and then he heard his own voice, "I've been drafted to fight for king and country, for Germany, for God." There was another long pause, and the wind stopped. "I'm afraid I might not see my son grow up," he added softly.

Matthias didn't know how he got there, feeling like he was gently lifted and placed onto a cozy chair by the hearth. The warmth enveloped him like a gentle embrace, chasing away the chill of the night. With a contented sigh, he settled into the chair, basking in the comforting glow of the fire.

Matthias always had very little, and after his wife had left, it wasn't much. There were only a few books scattered here and there, a flower pot, some brooms, and dishes he inherited from his family. There were some of his son's toys. Although he tried to spoil his son to the best of his ability, with what little toys could give the boy. However, he failed. He remembered how, once she died, his home really went downhill. It was disorderly and destroyed, almost as in disarray as he was. He found the strength to stand up. He had many questions, like who brought him here and why there was a very well-kept fire going, but in all honesty, he didn't care. He knew that death would be upon him, and he wanted to clean the house.

He gradually picked up a broom that was right next to him, determined to clean his house to the best of his ability. Diligently, he swept and swept until, on an old framed picture - the only one he owned that wasn't a painting - the picture contained himself and his wife on his wedding day. Next to that picture was an imprint of clay that contained his son's hand when he was a baby. This caused him to shed a tear; he only thought he would feel this way at the age of 70, alone, with no child, no wife, and a very, very bad back, with not much time left to live. Not now, not when he was so young.

The thought ended with a song, a sweet melody emanating from outside. It was a song he had heard before, a song he heard right before the world ended. At that moment, he felt tiny, like an ant about to take on the sun. The song was loud yet gentle, but even if he hadn't heard the song, he could feel her presence. His skin grew cold, and the feeling that he must clean his house ended. She ended the world as he knew it, and now she came to take what small bit of it he had left. There was a knock at the door that finally broke his trance.

There was a laughable thought in his mind that maybe if he stayed still, she would go away. He almost felt offended that she would even knock like she even needed to with all her power. The thought that she wanted to speak to him after everything she put him through. A million questions went through his head, the greatest one being: what on Earth does she want with him? With a mixture of fear and curiosity, he made his way to the door. Each step felt like he was trying to cross a minefield, carefully taking each step. Matthias promised that no matter what happens, he would not lose his manners or his humanity.

Finally reaching the door, the thin piece of wood that separated him from her, the thin piece of wood that preserved the world he knew. With a slow and steady hand, his hand made its way to the doorknob. In the process, his hand was violently shaking. Finally, his hand wrapped around the doorknob, but he couldn't compel himself to open the door. He took a deep breath and told himself it was rude to keep a guest waiting.

Gently, the door opened and time stood still. The woman that stood before him was, in fact, "Mother"-the one that created all of his nightmares and then some. She was just as he remembered her but much taller than he remembered. She had to hunch down a little to prevent her head from hitting the ceiling of the porch. Matthias thought she must have been 7 feet tall. Then Mother spoke, "Well if you must know, I'm around 8 feet tall." Matthias's blood went cold as he uttered the words, "You read my mind?"