Into The Aether

Chapter Thirty-Six: The Innkeeper Pt. 1

Before Richtofen met Dr Roth; he had initially turned up in Berlin in 1925 - without a penny to his name. At the age of 21, he had taken a carriage into the heart of the city in the dead of night. As the carriage carted away, he stood before the Brandenburg Gates with a hold-all containing the meager belongings he had collected during his travels.

Richtofen had not eaten in the days it took to reach Berlin from Hamburg. To begin with, he was the type who neglected to look after himself when his mind was occupied with work or study. The strain of which had already left him looking rather gaunt and underweight before his twenties. But back in Hamburg, he struggled to earn enough money to eat.

His luck had soured and his connections in the city began to errode. He had picked too many fights with the criminal overlords and threatened to tip the balance of power they had worked to establish. By the end of his stay, he was forced to flee from the second floor window of the inn he had been staying at. Richtofen was always paranoid of his contacts in the unscrupulous underworld and opted to always sleep in his clothes in case the need for a quick escape ever arose.

One evening, his enemies sent their underlings to try and take him out in his sleep. Though, unbeknownst to them, the man rarely slept. At 2am they barged through his door to find a vacant room as the curtains danced in the wind which blew through the open window. As he fled down dark alleys and through the narrow passageways between the packed buildings; Richtofen took the decision to leave Hamburg for good.

It was time to make a fresh start under a new alias. So, the very same night, he began to hitch rides on the back of wagons and carriages as he made his way to Berlin. He had previously decided to visit the capital last in his tour of Germany - until now.

The rain began to fall as he stood looking up at the Brandenburg Gates. His clothing was worn and frayed which provided little to no protection from the elements. It was a quiet night as not a soul could be seen walking the streets. The lights in the surrounding buildings were extinguished except for one window. The faint glow of candle light invited Richtofen as he felt compelled to make his way to it.

The light from the fellow night owl came from an inn across the cobbled road. The wet cobble stones glistened as they reflected the moonlight from above. Richtofen trunged his way over as he stepped in the puddles of water which collected on the road. As he approached the front door, the sign read "Meyer Inn" - which was beautifully painted in medieval script.

Richtofen entered through the door to be met by a roaring fire in the reception area. He dropped his bag and sunk into one of the antique chairs as he tried to warm himself up. His entrance was far from quiet which undoubtedly alerted the owner who he could hear walking above as the floorboards creaked and groaned. Richtofen straightened up as he heard a door open and someone make their way down the stairs.

Strangely, he felt anxious as he anticipated the impending encounter. He had no money to pay for a room and just wanted somewhere to keep out of the rain until the morning. But he seemed to dread whoever he was going to have to explain this to. For some reason, he couldn't bring himself to don his usual persona and trick the poor soul into a free room. Usually, he would get the inns to give him a room on the promise that he would pay in the morning - a promise he never kept.

Richtofen looked up as a man in his late fifties stopped at the bottom of the landing and looked at him. The man stood there looking on with genuine concern in his eyes as he saw the bag of bones sitting by the fire. This evoked mixed feelings in Richtofen as the thought of being pitied left him feeling odd. So he quickly jumped up and grabbed his bag to leave.

"I'm very sorry, zhe rain vas heavy und I needed a place to catch mein breazh", Richtofen timidly explained without making eye contact. As he began making his way to the door the man spoke up.

"Please, make jourself comfortable. I am not here to chase jou out", the man replied with a kind, gentle voice. Richtofen stopped in his tracks but couldn't bring himself to turn around and face him.

"I have a room available. It vould be my pleasure to have jou stay the night", the man continued. Richtofen finally turned around and took a deep breath as he felt increasingly more uncomfortable with the experience.

"Mein Herr, I cannot accept. I have nozhing to pay jou vith", Richtofen replied honestly. It was strange telling the truth for once - instead of always bluffing. The man smiled.

"Nein, zhe room is on zhe house. Do come along und I vill show jou zhe vay", the man explained as he insisted Richtofen follow him. This put Richtofen on edge as any kindness shown to him had usually been bait for something more sinister - especially amongst the people he tended to mix with.

Reluctantly, he followed the man whilst still keeping up his guard. But, his body was growing weaker without proper rest or food and this made him feel all the more vulnerable. The man took him up the stairs and down the narrow hallway lined with doors before stopping outside room number seven.

Richtofen stopped and looked at him suspiciously before the man opened the door and entered the room. It was a small room with a single bed, side table, table and chairs and a stove. The stove functioned as both a source of heat as well as for cooking. The man stopped and turned back to notice Richtofen standing by the threshold as he cautiously peered in at the room.

"Bitte, come in und make jourself at home", the man gestured with a warm smile. Richtofen took one last look around before finally stepping in. He put his bag down as the man walked over to the stove and boiled the kettle which had been stationed nearby.

"Can I offer jou some tea or coffee?" The man politely asked as he awaited Richtofen's answer.

"Coffee, bitte", Richtofen replied quietly. The man nodded and began making the coffee.

"Jou are not from here", the man shouted over as he remained by the stove.

"N-nein", Richtofen said timidly.

"Let me guess jour accent, it is definitely Bavarian... jour from Dinkelsbühl, ja?" The man accurately guessed - which made Richtofen perk up in his chair.

"Ja, I am actually. How did jou know?!" Richtofen asked with genuine surprise.

"I have an ear for accents. I travelled all around Germany und yonder vhen I vas younger", the man explained. This really piqued Richtofen's interest; but before he could reply, the kettle began to squeal which briefly interrupted their conversation. After a minute or two, the man brought over two cups and sat down at the table. He slid over the steaming cup of coffee as Richtofen peered into the blackness of the water.

"Ah, I forgot zhe milk", the man said aloud as he got up and walked over to a small jug on the windowsill. Once he returned, Richtofen watched as the pure white milk swirled and mixed with the black coffee before merging into a dark tan liquid.

"My mind is not vhat it used to be", the man explained as he sat back down.

"Vhat is jour name, boy?" The man asked before he sipped his cup of tea. Since Richtofen normally gave people an alias; no one outside of his village knew his real name. But this time, he felt compelled to tell the man the truth.

"Mein name is Edvard Richtofen", Richtofen replied as he still felt strange from the new experience.

He leaned over with anticipation as he eagerly awaited the stranger's introduction...

End of part thirty-six...