//------------------------------// // Hatched from a dream // Story: The Iron Chancellor // by Radical Centrist //------------------------------// POV: Otto Von Bismarck He opened his eyes slowly, trying to feel the bed around him, however, instead, his hands met grass and small grains of soil which rolled in between his fingers. He groaned upwards, clenching his eyes to prepare for the pain from his joints, but instead finding it surprisingly easy despite his age, he clenched his hands on the grass floor, only for his palms to be greeted with three sharp stubs. He jerked his hands upwards to shoo the alien sensation off from his hands, and rubbed both his eyes with his... 4 digit claws? He stared blankly at his new appendages, confused more than fearful or scared, as he began fiddling his now claw-like hands. Scratch that, claw-like claws. His eyes wandered downwards to his wrist, to his elbows and down to his lap, which now looked like the underbelly of a lion. His eyes twitched. Never in his life, did Bismarck ever panic or lose his nerves, even in duels where he nearly lost his life, but this was stressing his limits to its breaking point. So instead, he preoccupied his mind by thinking of the scenarios which could have led him to this state. Have I died and been turned into a mystical being as a form of cruel punishment by the gods? Or am I in an extremely convincing dream? Bismarck pinched himself with his sharp talons, and the pain concluded that this was in fact, not a dream. His pain made him flinch a bit, which made him notice the fluttering noise on his back, which ended up being an enormous wing. It appears I'm a gryphon [griffon], but why am I here? Bismarck pondered, with his claws on his chin and legs splayed across the grassy ground, I must have died in my sleep, I suppose the grim reaper finally decided to end my mortal run. The only thing which Bismarck had in his mind was if this place was hell or not, as there seemed to be a severe lack of fires nor screams of murder present in this new realm. His thoughts were distracted by a groan beside him, which he couldn't believe he didn't notice before until now. POV: Paul Mauser "Urghhh....." Paul groaned loudly, he felt like the worst hangover had hit him, as if he had gone to the biggest tavern there was in Germany and had consumed their entire supply. He pushed himself up from his stomach, and immediately felt the contact between his hands and the grass, and not from his soft bed which immediately startled him. "Huh-? Where am I?" Paul grunted as he began to open only one of his eyes as to not be bombarded by the harsh suns' rays on the morning eyes, yet he did not feel such pain, and everything was clear and not a blurry mess, even though he had just woken up, it was as if he had a new eye! Realising this, he opened both and looked down to see what his hands were touching. He saw two claws. Paul stared dumbly at the claws, and began clenching his hands, the claws emulated this and began grabbing the grass underneath it, which Paul felt as well. To him, it was like watching yourself move your hands in a mirror, except more disorienting and scary. He pulled back at the grass, as if to attempt to uproot it, however, he underestimated his newly-given strength and fell backwards, as the grass uprooted from his hands' strength. He then blankly stared at the skies on his back, with his claws still holding on the grass and its brown roots. "W-what in gods' name is going on here?" Paul asked the sky hesitantly. Until suddenly, an avians' face with oversized eyes emerged from his peripheral vision, blocking the sky to meet his eye contact. "Who are you?" The face questioned. Nope. and Paul promptley fell unconscious. POV: Otto Von Bismarck Bismarck observed the mysterious creature beside him as he groaned, its familiar limbs suggesting that he was the same race as it, and he began observing its face. Do I look like that? Bismarck thought, as he reminisced what his past ancestors would have thought as well before the invention of mirrors and the absence of clear water to view their reflections. His thoughts were cut short when the creature beside him lifted himself and opened up an eye, then both to look around briefly and look down. He swore that he could see the creatures' eyes bulge out when it observed its limbs, and strangely it pulled out the grass in front of him and fell on his back. "W-what in gods' name is going on here?" It said. Bismarck felt a wave of relief hit him, as the creature was able to speak, therefore reasoned or questioned by him, so he quietly approached him and leaned forward to catch his attention, and asked; "Who are you?" After three seconds, the griffons' eyes rolled up to his head and fell unconscious, which made Bismarck slightly worried. Hmmm... how would I ask questions now? He pondered until he got a brilliant idea, he cracked his knuckles and rolled his arms, his new body seemed to have reinvigorated him, and bring his youthful energy back to him tenfold. He had not duelled nor fought for the longest time. *one beat-up later...* "MERCY! MERCY!" The creature cried out, as he was being dragged and tossed around by him. He would normally just talk it out, but when something or someone is already scared of them, threats seemed to work the best, instead of trying to build a bridge between them, he would rather not waste time and cut straight into the chase. After tossing him one last time, Bismarck set him down in front of him, propping him against a splintery tree to question him. "What are you?" Bismarck asked once more, however this time, the creature had an incentive to stay conscious as to not be beaten up. "I-I don't know! Honest! I just woke up and now I'm some kind of gryphon!" The creature pleaded Bismarck paused for a second, his theory of this being the afterlife or hell being reinforced, as it seemed like this gryphon had shared the same fate as him, and was now confused, but due to it not having any experience in stressful situations, its confusions boiled down to fear. "W-well can you tell me who you are then?" The gryphon squeaked, as to not incur the wrath of this mysterious gryphon. Bismarck thought about the question for a second, as he tried to think of any scenarios in which this gryphon could use his identity as a threat against him, however when he found none, he answered. ".... Otto Von Bismarck, former head of state of the German Empire, or most commonly known as the iron chancellor." POV: Paul Mauser Paul froze when he heard the name, Otto Von Bismarck?! The man who oversaw the creation of the German empire?! The very man who created the country where I live in?! He let his arms drop beside his torso, as he suddenly deemed resistance futile against the living legend, "D-didn't you die 16 years ago?" Paul asked hesitantly, as he began to doubt the gryphons' words "What do you mean?" Bismarck loosened his grip, as he began to be confused once more. "1898, you died in Friedrichsruh on your bed?" Paul answered the gryphon sceptically. "My lord... What year is it?" Bismarck asked, however it looked like he already knew the answer. "It is 1914, why'd you ask?" Paul answered as he became confused as to why the gryphon was asking these questions until he began to connect the dots. Bismarck, upon seeing him in deep thought, decided to answer his question before he asked about it. "Yes. It seems like we've transported from different periods. Expected for this is the afterlife..." Bismarck muttered "You think... We are in the afterlife?" Paul asked hopefully as if it would change the answer. "How old are you?" Bismarck asked whilst turning his back on the gryphon. "78..." Pauls' heart dropped, as he connected all the dots and began to look downwards despairingly. Bismarck simply nodded to the skies, as he put his claws on his chin once more to formulate a plan, as currently, he felt defenceless and naked without one. Speaking of which, they were both naked, which didn't seem to be unnatural to them. Paul looked up once more, and began to think what he had done before he came here, and thought what he had said. Maybe... I can forge my legacy here... Emboldened, he looked up to see Bismarck deep in thought. Slowly, he approached him and stood beside him on the hill. "My name's Paul Mauser by the way, pleasure seeing the living legend in the flesh! Or in this case... in the feathers?" Paul deliberated awkwardly. "Pleasure to meet you too Mr Mauser, how about we share some history about ourselves? I don't think we are going to be able to return to Germany any time soon." Bismarck stated. Paul, in his peripheral vision, spotted a village in the nearby distance and began glaring at it, which surprisingly made him zoom into it. "Woah-! These crazy eyes!" Paul shouted childishly whilst gripping his eyes with his claws to reset his vision. "Yes, it seems like we have the eyesight of a predatory bird, factored by mythical, giving us these portable telescopes," Bismarck said whilst zooming in and out, which made his lens in his eyes become the size of dinner plates to pinpricks constantly. "Anyways, I believe we should embark towards that village, there is no other place to go around this area atop this hill that we can see." Paul simply nodded and began walking down the hill, Bismarck followed and began retelling his lifes' story whilst keeping a steady pace. There will be no more doubts after this moment.