The Eternal Empire

Heimrich waited patiently for the right moment to approach Anna. He had observed her routine for days, noting that she hauled the waste from the village toilet to the woods not only in the mornings and evenings but also at midday. Midday, however, presented the best opportunity, as most of the villagers were busy working, leaving them unlikely to interrupt. When the moment came, he followed her discreetly into the forest. As she reached the designated dumping site, he stepped forward.

Anna turned to him, her expression calm and collected. There was no surprise in her eyes, only a faint flicker of acknowledgment. "I've been wondering when you'd finally come to me," she said, her voice steady.

Heimrich blinked, momentarily taken aback. "What do you mean?" he asked cautiously.

Anna remained silent, her gaze piercing as she stared at him. The pause stretched for a full minute, long enough for Heimrich to feel the weight of her scrutiny. Just as he opened his mouth to speak again, she cut him off.

"I knew from the moment I saw you that you were a deceiver and a liar," she said, her tone monotonous and devoid of emotion. "You calculate every action, observe your surroundings with unrelenting focus, and tailor your behavior accordingly. I watched you these past days. No one else noticed, but I did. You've been gathering information from everyone in the village, quietly and methodically. Not enough from any one person to arouse suspicion, but enough to form a picture. You've been very careful, very thorough."

Heimrich was stunned by her keen observation. Her words were precise and eerily accurate. He could see in her eyes that she wasn't accusing him out of paranoia; she had pieced this together through sharp and deliberate scrutiny.

"I must admit," Heimrich said, a small smile playing at his lips, "your deduction is remarkable. You have quite the gift."

Anna's expression didn't change. "Is it a gift, or is it a product of experience?" she replied flatly. "After the tragedy I endured with Eberhart, my perspective on people changed completely. I realized that humans are the cruelest and most horrifying creatures in existence. I began to distrust them, to watch them, to analyze them. My new job, shoveling waste, gives me plenty of time alone and the opportunity to observe everyone from a distance."

Heimrich's curiosity deepened. "So you have not always been so keen and perceptive?" he asked.

Anna's gaze turned thoughtful, her voice carrying a faint trace of introspection. "Who knows? Perhaps deep down, I was always this way, and it took these experiences to awaken it within me. I think it's a combination of willpower and the vow I made to myself to survive no matter the circumstances. For that, I suppose I have my parents to thank."

"Your parents?" Heimrich pressed gently.

Anna's voice carried a bitter edge as she answered. "They took their own lives and left me to fend for myself. My mother… she was broken by a lord who used her as his plaything and discarded her. She came back an empty shell, incapable of speech or thought. My father watched her waste away, tormented by his own powerlessness. One day, they both…" She paused, her lips pressing into a thin line. "They left me."

Heimrich's gaze remained steady as he listened. "And you blame them for leaving you," he said, not as a question but as a statement of fact.

"Yes," Anna admitted. "I was ten. I had no one. I worked in the tavern just to survive. But I swore I'd never let myself be so weak. Even when I…" Her voice faltered for a moment, but she steadied herself. "Even when I wanted to end it all after Eberhart's torture, I remembered that vow. At first, I was almost relieved to think it was over, that my life was ending. But I couldn't let myself be as weak as my parents. That vow was the only thing that kept me alive."

"How did you manage to escape from Eberhart?" Heimrich asked softly.

Anna let out a sharp, bitter laugh. "How do you think trash is taken out of the house?" she asked rhetorically. "Eberhart's men dumped me like garbage when they were done with me. They threw me into the woods to rot, as if I were nothing. With every ounce of strength I had left, I crawled away. I refused to die there, even though every part of me wanted to."

Heimrich remained silent, allowing her to continue.

"I found herbs to treat myself," she said. "I was lucky I knew how to find them. As a child, I often searched the forest for food. I sold edible plants and healing herbs to the village herbalist. She pitied me because I had no parents and taught me everything she could."

"So you saved yourself," Heimrich said, his tone one of quiet admiration.

Anna shrugged, her expression unreadable. "I survived. That's all that matters."

The two stood in silence for a moment, the weight of Anna's words hanging in the air. Heimrich felt an unexpected surge of respect for her. Despite everything she had endured, Anna had refused to break.

"You're stronger than anyone I've ever met," Heimrich said at last, thinking that in modern times, an experience like hers would be impossible to imagine. He deeply respected and was fascinated by her strength—a strength he wished to acquire, not just for himself but because he saw her as an invaluable ally for his future plans. Such strength, he thought, was wasted in this village.

Anna gave him a long, searching look before turning back to her work. "You still haven't answered my questions," she said. "Why are you here, and who are you?"

For once, Heimrich had no immediate answer. Instead, he watched as Anna continued to shovel the waste, her movements steady and deliberate. After a moment, a devilish smile spread across his face. "Would you believe me if I told you that God Himself willed it? That He sent me from the future to the past to correct history and guide humanity onto the right path?"

In his mind, Heimrich thought, It is technically not a lie. After all, such a space-time leap should have been impossible. Even if it weren't, the spatial distortion should have torn me apart. The fact that I arrived here whole and unharmed is nothing short of a divine miracle—or at least a power I have yet to understand.