Taking a deep breath to recollect herself, Maria stood from the bed, and walked toward the mirror. Sitting down, he opened of the desk's drawer, and took out a clean cotton rag.
Watching her grieved expression in the mirror, one she hadn't known since the death of her twin sister, she slowly began wiping the stains on her cheeks.
After she was done, she placed the towel back in the drawer, and left the room, with one thought in mind, Inform the kids.
•••
The sky above Hamburg was a picturesque mix of deep orange, golden brown, and bruised purple, all painted against the backdrop of a setting sun.
Beneath it, the now dark Elbe flowed in a slow, gentle cascade.
The last cries of seagulls filled the air, wheeling through the roof tops which were tinted with the greyish smoke spurting out of chimneys.
The cool evening wind and the city's slowly dying cacophony drifted through the open window of the Church of Saint Peter's infirmary, and washed over Damian who stood motionless before the frame.
Watching the kaleidoscopic spill out of colours staining the clouds as the sun slowly set beyond the horizon, he thought, So this is my new life, huh? 15th Century Hamburg.
Despite a whole day having passed since his transmigration, and his new reality having settled... somewhat, in the back of his mind, he couldn't help but sigh.
Feeling another cold wave of air on his skin, he added in self-deprecation, "And I was so close to finishing my MBA and finally ridding myself of my broke status, only to get rolled back to square one as the last son of a dead and most likely broke merchant family."
Sighing once more, he slowly ran a hands through his hair.
After another bout of silence, he whispered under his breath, with a tone of resignation and quiet grief for the life he hadn't fully lived, "Looks like from this moment on, I am Friedrich László Kata."
•••
Despite the soft way in which he said the words, it echoed through the dim confines of the room, stirring up one ripple after another in his heart.
In that moment, he gained an unprecedented sense of clarity, almost as if the world was a television that suddenly had its contrast tuned up.
And for a brief, yet breathtaking second, Friedrich existed within that clarity, the world sharp and defined around the edges.
Then, two sharp knocks echoed behind him, shattering the feeling, and returning the world back to its usual contrast.
He turned around to the sound of the door creaking open, as Anna walked into the room. The moment she saw Friedrich, she reminded, "You shouldn't move around so much, Herr Friedrich. Lest you upset the injury."
"It barely stings now." Friedrich refuted, waving his hands dismissively. "And please call me Friedrich. I don't think our ages are that far apart for such formal wordings."
Seeing Anna's face which had been a normal shade stiffen, then slowly turn into a dark, stone cold expression that held a polite, but firm refusal, Friedrich awkwardly scratched his head, his gaze drifting to the tray in her hand.
Upon sighting the two bowls on it, his lips trembled. Broth and bread again? If this is their idea of a meal, no wonder the mortality rate is so high. Where's the balance in diet?
Ignoring his piercing gaze, Anna walked toward the table, and quickly setting down the bowls on it. When she was done, she silently left the room.
After the door clicked shut, Friedrich moved to the table. As he sat down, he saw the contents of the bowl, a sight that defied his expectations.
A thick, steaming pease pottage, with bits and pieces of wilted spinach leaves filled the first bowl. The second, held a full serving of soft boiled beans.
The savoury scent of salted pork reached his nose as he leaned close to the first bowl, prompting a slow exhale from him.
Straightening back up, he murmured, "I take my words back." His hand reaching for the wooden spoon in the second bowl.
Ten minutes later, a now full Friedrich walked back to the bed.
Before he lay down, he stole one last glance at the world outside.
The sky was now considerably darker, with a lone star twinkling against its black canvas.
His mind drifted back to earth, where he would probably be neck deep in textbooks the size of a small pillow, with the idea of eating being a distant afterthought.
Exhaling silently, he slipped into the bed. As he lay down, he couldn't help but notice that the straw mattress didn't feel as rigid as it always did.
Maybe because I finally ate a decent meal, everything now feel better. Almost immediately, he snickered at the bizarre thought.
After a minute of staring at the ceiling, he closed his eyes, and drifted off to sleep.
•••
After a night of sleep, Damian who now regarded himself as Friedrich woke up to a dull ache pounding against his skull.
Sitting up, he slowly massaged the area with his thumb. As he did, he felt the area around his chest flare up.
Not with a sharp sting, or piercing ache, but with the delayed numbness of sensation returning to the area.
Looks like I'm almost healed up. He thought, hands still massaging his temple.
Slowly, he stood up, to avoid setting off the area. Now to figure out an excuse that will justify and allow an early discharge.
After a cursory glance across the room, he headed for the door.
Just as he was about to leave, a thought flashed in his mind. Wait, how am I going to find the priest when I don't even know my way around the church. Hell, I don't even know which part of Hamburg the Church is located at.
And I can't exactly rely on my memories, since they're somewhat blurry.
With no other choice than to wait for Anna to deliver his breakfast, then ask her for directions, he sighed, and walked toward the table.
The moment he sat down, Friedreich began thinking of ways to justify his early discharge.
Five minutes later, a knock on the door, brought his attention back to the room.
"Herr Friedrich!" The priest exclaimed, the moment he walked into the room, and saw Friedrich sitting on the table. "You're up early."
Anna walked in from behind, with a food tray in hand, and a cold, stoic expression etched on her face.
"The rising sun wouldn't let me have any more sleep, so I figured it best to wake up." Friedrich replied, in a jovial tone, standing up to meet the priest.
The priest nodded briefly, his sharp gaze lingering on Friedrich's posture for a moment.
Anna on the other hand worked quietly in the background, placing the content of the tray on the table.
Seconds later, the priest went on, "I see your injuries have healed quite significantly, Herr Friedrich." His tone a blend of professional curiosity and quiet awe.
In response, Friedrich offered a slight, respectful bow of his head. "They have, Father. The stiffness was worse than the pain this morning. I felt the need to move, to stretch the lethargy from my limbs."
He then placed a hand gently over his bandaged chest, his voice softening with a deliberate, pious note. "I can only attribute such swift healing to God's mercy. I am... deeply, deeply grateful."
A slow, approving smile spread across the priest's face. He made the sign of the cross, in the air between them. "It is as the Scripture says: 'The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.' He has heard your prayers and seen your faith. It is a blessing to witness."
The priest stepped closer, his earlier clinical curiosity giving way to a more pastoral demeanor as he slowly unwrapped a section of the gauze, revealing a reddish, still-forming scab.
After a minute of observation, he murmured to himself, "The Lord indeed looks after those who put their trust in Him. To see His grace manifest so clearly in your recovery is a comfort to us all."
Wrapping it back up, he straightened himself. "Forgive my enthusiasm Herr Friedrich. Such miraculous recovery I had to see for myself."
"It's alright." Friedrich replied, waving his hands dismissively in response.
After an awkward silence, the priest cleared his throat, "You seem to have something on your mind, Herr Friedrich."