Re: Blood and Iron

The year was 1919, and Franz Joseph had beaten the reaper's grasp by well over two years as a thanks to Bruno's heavy investments into medicine, specifically things like antibiotics, but there was only so much medicine that could keep death at bay for so long.

Age itself could be a cause of death, and the aging Emperor was damn near nearing 90 years old, an age that was almost primeval in the era he currently lived in. As a result, his body had begun to deteriorate, and his soul had given up after Bruno had dealt the final blow to his family's sovereignty.

Austria was now just another incorporated realm into the Reich, as it was always meant to be, but that didn't bring the man who had once been crowned an Emperor any pride, nor any comfort, rather the opposite.

He had sold his soul, and that of his realm to the hands of a devil, who had come to him bathed in moonlight, cloaked in white, and proclaimed by the cries of angels, and yet it was only after it was too late that those were black wings bleached to a state of false purity.

It was a thought that weighed heavily on his old soul and had ultimately caused his condition to worsen rapidly. Today, on February 2nd 1919, the former Emperor of Austro-Hungaria, had met his end.

He would be remembered as the man whose might, vision, and wealth had forged an Empire from the ruins of the old, an Empire that was now nothing more than words etched through the annals of history.

And why was this empire gone and forgotten? Because it was an empire built on shaky foundations, in the end those unstable roots had not been capable of bearing with the tides of history.

All the monarchs of the German Reich had gathered for the funeral precession of their most recent peer, and his otherwise untimely demise. Bruno himself, though gazed upon with complicated expressions by the Habsburgs, was also present, not in civilian formal attire, nor his German field marshal uniform.

Rather, he wore the extravagant gala uniform once given to him by the now deceased Emperor, with all the medals he had earned from the Habsburgs during the Great War, a testament to a dead empire, and the House who had survived it.

It was a gesture of remembrance, of venenation for a legendary historical figure now gone from this world, and in a subtle way a silent promise between men who had been adversaries at the end of their lives, not for personal animosity, but conflicting loyalties and the duty to those who demanded it from them. The promise:

"Your family may no longer be sovereign monarchs wearing the crowns of Emperors, but so long as I draw breath, and my blood flows strongly through my own line, your kin will have a lion guarding them in the west."

After a brief salute, Bruno turned away, having nothing left to say to the Habsburgs during their time of grief. Words for the future would come when they were ready. But that did not mean that there were those among them who did not have their own thoughts towards Bruno's appearance, nor were they unafraid of speaking them aloud.

Hedwig, had grown slightly bitter with Bruno, having not known the whole truth of what happened to her family's rule, and their Empire, she blamed him for it, as she had heard her grandfather speak some words of the disgruntled variety while intoxicated after they had been incorporated into Germany as yet another monarch, and lost all of Tyrol and Vorarlberg to Bruno and his family.

"There he goes… I'm amazed he had the guts to show his face here after everything he did to our family! And in the imperial regalia of a knight, no less!"

Hedwig did not expect to be so thoroughly reprimanded by her relative, the man who would be the next Archduke of Austria who looked at her with an irritated expression as his words were quiet, but stern.

"There goes the last knight of Austro-Hungary…. You would be wise to show some respect to those who have earned it… have you not learned such a simple matter of manners at your age?

I know your frustration, but look around you, Hedwig… How many men here were our retainers? How many of them now wear German Uniforms? One man had the gall to show up here in the trappings of our dead empire, a position he held in ceremony only, and it's the man you just cursed…

When all the others have lost the nerve to call themselves Austrian, a Prussian stood before us, and said without words that he remembers what the uniform means, and he will honor the oaths that others took in it…. Oaths that were not his own, but sacred nonetheless, and thus deserving of memory.

Next time you open your mouth, think before you do so, or else you disgrace us all with your ignorance, girl…"

Karl then walked off, not saying another word to his relative who had once chased after the favor of the man she so brazenly cursed now behind his back. Forcing her to rethink her own thoughts.

Karl was the next Archduke…. And he seemed to be favorable towards Bruno despite everything she thought she knew about what happened between her family and him. Was she lied to?

Or was she just fed a half truth, by a drunken and bitter old man, who couldn't come to terms with what happened? She did not know the truth… But she knew now that she wanted to learn it more than just about anything in this world.

And because of that, Franz Joseph was laid to rest, and whatever grudges remained in his heart towards Bruno were not inherited by his dynasty, but rather died with him. But Bruno, well he would be speaking with Karl soon enough, to discuss important matters of the future he was building, and the Habsburg role in it.