Chapter 7 - 7

It was close to the eve of Christmas and the usual routine was not only behind, far behind, but above all the great depth below it; and the ascent continued to push them further apart.

As he hovered between them and the unknown, Friedrich Hans Ingo wondered how he would fare up there.

Even so, he thought, would it not be reckless and harmful to him, who was born a few meters above the sea and accustomed to the air of his land, he had a certain fear of himself, even with jump magic, in which he was almost to allow himself to be transported so suddenly to these extreme moments of anxiety, he had a serious behavioural problem, even without staying for a few days in a place of high altitude and thin air.

Since he longed to reach the end of the journey; because, once at the top, in which now, when he thought, that one should live like everywhere else, without being reminded, as now, during the ascent, of the inappropriate spheres in which he found himself.

As for Friedrich Hans Ingo, he looked out the window to see the train winding its way through a narrow gorge, when everyone who was waiting at the station for the first carriages could see the locomotive spewing, in its effort, gouts of brown, greenish smoke. and black that soon dissipated.

Seeing below them, the depths of a gorge, between trees, between the tracks that led over the hill and mountains, then, looking to the right, murmured streams of water; to the left, dark pines sought among the rocks the heights of a stone-grey sky.

Then, they followed tunnels that were equally sinuous and dark, illuminated by torches, that surroundings had been a place that did not interfere with advanced technology, only the magic that is around us, and they were parading, and when the light reappeared, they tore Dilated chasms with settlements at their bottom, between a very retinue of communities that had the magic villages close to a great castle that was used for the sick.

Then, they closed close to the abysses, soon followed by new passes with remnants of snow in the cracks and crevices, where there are countless stops in front of miserable little houses of small stations, along stations with no exit in front, the train left in opposite direction, which produced a bewildering effect, towards several grandiose panoramas of the universe of alpine peaks suddenly opened up, a ghostly and solemn heap that

Even if he was concerned about holding on, so that he wouldn't sway or that he wouldn't sway, all this so that he could reach and climb, so that in the next meander of the road they could escape the reverent gaze.

Waiting for him was Friedrich Hans Ingo, who noticed that he was going to leave the area with the leafy trees and, if he was not mistaken, also that of the songbirds, and this idea of cessation and impoverishment made him, affected by a slight attack of vertigo and -being, covered his eyes with his hand for two seconds, even so, he was still apprehensive, these sensations bothered him, but that passed.

It was then when he saw that the ascent was over; the high point of the pass had been passed, heading towards the flat bottom of a valley, the train now running more comfortably.

It was approximately eight o'clock, even so, there is still a tenebrous fog, a darkness in the middle of a sawmill, in which you could barely see the distant landscape, a lake of grey waters appeared, and from its intoxicating banks, of a ghostly environment, in which each of them, they saw along which they climbed black pine groves on the sides of the adjacent mountains, which were so misty, steep and frightening, with a stinging mist all around.

In which everything there showed shadows that ran through the mountains, in which they became rarer higher up, ending little by little and giving way to bald rock, shrouded in mist, an extensive pitch, in which the rains that did not stop falling, the mists that they covered the whole landscape, the endless gorge, when you couldn't see beyond a thicket, in which the train was traveling, stopped at a little station; it was Molching-Dorf , the village of Molching , as Friedrich Hans Ingo heard him shout.

Even if he was in a little while, he would reach his destination, where suddenly, however, a careless voice resounded beside him from Baden-Württemberg, the voice of his cousin Emil Frank, who said:

- Hello, you, how are you? - He said, running towards her.

- So, good afternoon, cousin. - He said. - Come on, come down soon. - His cousin said.

Leaving the train, he went down the platform stairs, going to meet his cousin, in which he was following his gaze, when going down the platform, in which he saw when looking through the window, he saw Emil in person on the platform, dressed a red Armani overcoat, with long robes, besides, and a pointed hat, he looked so healthy and wise, as if he had never seen such a countenance from an austere and cultured man.

Emil laughed and repeated: - Come on man, stop being so frisky, leave soon, don't stand on ceremony.

- You know, no rush if I haven't even arrived, don't force me into it. - Friedrich Hans Ingo exclaimed in bewilderment, remaining seated.

- No, my dear, stop being scared, you've already arrived. - He said. – We are in the village. - Your uncle said.

- Now, from here, where the Recovery Hospital is much closer. - He said. – I came with a car. - He said. – Now, give me your belongings. – He ordered.

He started to laugh, a little confused, his uncle went along with it, even if a little confused by the unforeseen arrival and the meeting with his cousin, Friedrich Hans Ingo.

When she handed it to him, each of her bags, plus her winter coat, the blanket wrapped around her cane and umbrella, and finally the Ocean. _

In which he then walked down the narrow corridor of the carriage and jumped onto the platform, in order to exchange greetings with his cousin, in which however they were given without exuberance, as befits people with cold and reserved manners, who seemed shier.

Even though around them it seems strange, but from an early age both had avoided calling each other by their first names, solely because they feared a certain intimacy, because they were withdrawn.

How could that be, he thought, but it wasn't right for them to call each other by family name, they limited themselves to you, and that habit had taken root in both of them.

Each of them, being one being two high-collared and aristocratic men, in which they had a high collar and a wizard's hat, in which like both, in which young Frank, even in a military attitude, when both greeted each other, with the both hands even quickly and like something like skittish cats.

He was then approached to ask for Friedrich Hans Ingo's luggage voucher, even though he was the door attendant at the "Manfred Axel" International Recovery Hospital.

That's when he volunteered to pick up the guest's large suitcase at the next station, Molching -Platz, the town square, while the two gentlemen would please drive directly to the Recovery Hospital for dinner when the man limped. strongly, so that the first question that Friedrich Hans Ingo asked Emil Frank was this:

- Is he a survivor of the wizarding war? – He questioned him.

- So why does he limp like that? – The man was still questioning him.

- Don't say nonsense. - Emil replied with austerity, as well as a certain bitterness.

- War survivor! - He growled.