Edgar has already come back, sitting by the newly formed campfire, looking into the amber-like sparks. Most of the companions have arrived as well.

''Have you looked around the manor for any Fritz or Russian?''

He doesn't reply. He sits by the light source, supporting his legs against a mossy boulder. I sat down on the ground next to Edgar and look into his face, glowing from the fire light.

''Where were you so long?'' he asked, as if he was ready to scold me, but his voice doesn't reveal an authoritative tone. It sounded much more hollow.

''Just taking a walk,'' I replied though at the same time looking for a more indepth excuse for him. Nothing. Edgar gets ahead of me:

''No, there was no one around,'' he finally said. ''The manor owner likely fled to seek help in Riga. We also heard that Tommy was hanged in Kangari (village).''

A small void consumed my stomach and my lips quivered slightly.

''Edgar, then what of the home?...''

He turns back to the campfire.

''Don't know, best not to head to it for now.'' he coldly replied, but there was slight fear in his voice.

I face to the campfire, by now much more grand than initially. The fire eventually flew away from my eyesight, and then I see the hard, wrinkle faced Tommy; I see his father's house, where I often spent my days in spring, thick bushed linden trees, newly reformed bee colonies, and the foresty ridge. I let my emotions into the wild briefly. The fire returns, the warmth which was blocked from me. Edgar was still sitting by the fire, resting his head on his arms.

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The gravel road with trees on it's sides lies black in the shades, until now. Dozen men, many masked, march with fiery torches and blood red banners, as if they were a roaming star in the dark void.

''We have come here prepared. The plan will flow smoothly like the Daugava river.''

''Certainly, Gustav. We are forbidden to turn back now. We will spark a flame brighter for the cause with new members growing from our folk. They are not afraid anymore. It is them now, who should be.''

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We arrive at the manor. Our torches illuminate the once dark exterior of the building. A fine example of classicism, notably the columns and the steps that lead to the entry. Though, I cannot forget why we're here. This temple which cherishes the corrupt nobility was built on the expenses of enslaved farmers and serfs. We are here to reclaim the land for the people that had it stolen from. We have yet again become the Bane to their system. No longer shall the People be ruled by whip. We begin it all here.

Edgar and I make our way to the back of the manor, in search of a different entry, as the front was locked by its host. Meanwhile Gustav, already at the top of the steps, presents a speech to the gathered comrades in arms:

''Friends, members of the Latvian Social Democratic Workers' Party and the peasants' local council, under the federative committee, I greet you to a new beginning! Our comrades in Sankt-Peterburg and Moscow have shed their blood for the revolution! They have not died in vain, for the workers have stopped all factories nationwide! The farmers of Courland and Livonia have followed the same steps in taking revenge against the nobility! Riga, Windau, Libau, Mitau; workers have barricaded the streets, an impregnetable fortress! Step by step we fulfill the...''

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''Remember Joseph, the plan goes peacefully, no unnecessary actions.''

I nod after grabbing a stone fragment from the wet grass. Moments later I swing my arm towards one of the windows and release the rock, smashing it as the projectile lands inside. We brush off the excess shards with our coats as we hop inside the manor.

Making our way towards the main hall, I take half a second of moment to observe the interior design: portraits, rich ornamental designs on the walls, a chandelier. I unlock the entry, followed after with several of our comrades entering the manor.

As I split off from the rest, I take the nearest route to a room which possibly is a bedroom. Walking upstairs, scrolling through the hallway and opening the unlocked door, my eyes catch 2 women standing infront of me: a noblewoman and presumably her mother.

''Spricht ihr Lettisch (do you speak german)?'' I ask without hesitation.

The younger lady nods.

''Wunderbar (wonderful).''

Assuring full control of the situation, I slowly turn back to exit the room.

''Is this a revolution?'' the younger lady asks, forcing me to stop for a brief moment.

''I believe it is, madame.''

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Entering the balcony, I observe the scene we accomplished this day. The frontyard decorated with banners of our revolution, our compatriots singing.

The die has been cast, come forward, whirlwinds. Come down, thunder, strike down enemy with 9 lightnings. Let the manors burn down with blue flames. Let the rullers fall like autumn leaves from branches.