Our chosen hero, Hubert Von Amadeus Bach, what a name, honoured by a legendary musical family. He didn't have this fortune to share the surname of his brother in law, Friedrich Von Sebastian Bach, until his dear sister, Helen Von Amadeus Bach, married and chose to raise him, a younger brother whose age was twenty and a half years of her junior.

Without any child, Friedrich found raising Hubert a very blessing gift. As for Helen, she found raising Hubert as a guilt-relieving process. For if it was without her fault, Hubert’s childhood wouldn't be scared with a painful memory in an orphanage.

Helen had always been an only child for the first twenty-five years of her life until her parents were blessed with a belated baby boy. Helen still remembered the day of his birth, a day filled with tears of joy and applause of happiness. However, after the bliss, there always came sudden grief. His parents found it miraculous to have Hubert but unfortunate for their beloved daughter’s heart be stolen by a General, Herr Friedrich.

The General was a fine gallantry man who came from an aristocratic background, whose father was also a General for the German Empire and whose ancestral background was coloured vibrantly with a musical trace.

Even though their son in law was such a prince character, his military pose had taken away their favour for him. Their daughter, though not blue blood, was still a lawful heir of the family company (selling instruments, famous for the crafting of violins). So, the thought of risking their daughter’s future happiness on marrying a military man whose future might be destroyed by wars was a terrible idea.

Knowing their parents would disapprove the marriage, Helen chose to leave the family for her own happiness. A year after her leaving, World War One had broken out. Everything was in chaos in Munich, her hometown, let alone to say the battlefield where Helen was volunteering as a nurse. She found it more comforting to have a distraction so she wouldn’t spend her days waiting for her husband’s return from war. Better to keep her mind filled with useful thing than the unnecessary worry of false alarmed death.

While Helen was busying with the mending of wounds, her parents and little Hubert were busying with going in and out the bomb shelter. The cry of War was covered by the music of Hubert. His musical talent was first discovered by Mrs Amadeus. He was taught by his father and was capable of playing the violin and a little bit of piano. But violin was his favourite, using his babish words, he loved the voice of violins, they sang beautifully.

Happiness was always more short-lasting than we ever expected, especially in wartime. For the Amadeus household, theirs ended with a bomb from the sky, which landed on their property and took away the lives of the old spouse. Hubert was spared, perhaps death was tired from carrying people in those days of misery, leaving out a five-year-old kid wouldn’t cost much.

Without any other family members to take care of, on his sixth birthday, Hubert came to an orphanage. That was a rare concept in his tiny brain, a concept of without love from parents and warmth from family.

***

December 1927 (Munich, Germany)

Winter was the weather for the rich. Only the rich would say, “Oh, winter is coming! A season for fur fashion and delicious cuisine to warm our stomach! Oh! And Christmas! The decoration, the music, the joy and the family happiness and…….”

It was a season of great expenditure and a season for the wealthy to exhaust their money with plenty of good excuses.

While winter was a wonderland for the rich as a vacation, it was a land of suffrage for the poor as a chamber of torture. In fact, for the poor, every season was unpleasant but it was the worst in winter.

Chill to the bones could take the sense away, so as bitter hunger.

Food from the orphanage was not enough to feed all the children. In the time after World War One, German suffered greatly financially. The Versailles Treaty might take away the pride of Germans but the people gradually cared more about food and jobs.

At the end of the day, pride alone wouldn't keep one alive. Price level uprose like bombs, launched up to the skyline and exploded. As simple as a loaf of bread could cost you 200000 million marks!

“Aurora, this is for you. Your birthday gift.” The fourteen-year-old Hubert gave his best friend in the orphanage a necklace he made. A simple necklace with a charm of woodcraft rose. As plain as it seemed, the process of making it was not something to be underestimated of and the finished product was something far more extraordinary in an orphan’s eyes.

“Thank you! Oh! It's beautiful! Berty!” The five-year-old Aurora gave him a gentle kiss on his cheek he deserved. Among all things life had installed for her, never once did she receive a gift and let alone to say a birthday gift that her birthday was remembered by someone.

Perhaps our reader might find it rather confusing but this Aurora was no Aurora of the Fantastical Realm. Though sharing the same name with a similar appearance, they shared a dreadfully different destiny. One was a life in a Castle and one was a life in an organisation. One was a life of wealth and one was a life of poverty. Sarcastically as it might seem, the Superior loved both of them dearly. No more and no less, eternally.

You see, in the Realistic Realm, love was defined by status, at least it was practised by most people. But, in Fantastical Realm, love was love, simply to love and be loved.

“No, there's more for your birthday. Follow me.” Hubert held her tiny hand and walked past the orphanage backyard fence and crossed over the tiny mountain to the neighbouring farmland.

“Where's my present?” Little Aurora, her first time walking such a long distance from her shelter, couldn't catch her breath, both scared and excited at the same time.

“There! See?”

“No,” little Aurora replied disappointedly.

“There! The herd of rabbits in that fence.” That was a small point at the position they were standing, by the hill slope at the back of the farm.

“But that belongs to the farmer. That isn't ours.”

“Yes, it will if we go and get that.”

“But it doesn't sound right.”

“But aren't you hungry? They have been feeding us watery congee. Don't you want some meat? I almost forget the last time I had meat.” If you just imagined, you could see the desire in his eyes.

“Berty, I don't like this present. Perhaps you can play me your violin? I love to hear it, at least once!” Trying to alter his decision, little Aurora might be hungry but not enough to drive away her sense of right and wrong.

He didn't play music ever since the tragic event for he wanted to keep the happy memory in his music. He didn't want to ruin the beautiful memory by playing his music in a dreadful place.

“Rosy, I will play it for you when my family returns.” As promising as it might sound, both him and Aurora knew the day wouldn't come.

“Come, go to get our rabbits.” Hubert took her hand again and led her to the back of the fence. However, no matter whether they successfully stole the rabbits or not, it was for sure that Hubert would regret the day forever.