CHAPTER 1
Reaper's POV
We ride. We ride fast and we ride hard down the hilly meadows outside the walls, Hanji leading our little group. In the distance I see Commander Erwin raise his arm and fire a flare into the sky, telling us to get into the formation. Hanji looks behind herself and gives our squad a cheery thumbs up before dragging her horse off to the right. We all follow immediately.
I hear the thudding clops of horse hooves against the dirt, the rustle as the saddle rubs against horse hair, the roar of the wind as it flies past my ears, the echo of the Commander's flare. I feel the cracking leather of the reins in my hands, the clumsy but graceful movements of my horse, the friction of the inside of my boot against the side of my foot, the pull of my cloak as the force of the passing air tugs it back. I smell the smoke from the flare and the clean air of the world outside the walls. I see blue sky and green capes and I taste the sweetness of spring. It would have been perfect had we not been about to enter a titan-infested forest.
"Abnormal!" someone shouts. I think it's Bridget, one of my squad-mates. Hanji cackles wildly, excitedly.
"We can't capture it, Squad Leader!" I call, knowing all too well what Hanji is thinking. I see her shoulders slump.
"I know," she says disappointedly. "Reaper, take it down!"
"On it!"
I drop the reins and slash my arms across my body in the air, feeling a surge of power leave my chest in the process; it's not enough to tire me just yet, but I still feel as if a tremendous amount of energy has just left me and that I'm going to crash the moment we get back inside the walls. A large section of titan neck sloughs off from the back of the Abnormal's head and falls to the ground with a resounding thud. The titan falls soon after. I place the reins back in my hands, shake my head, take a deep breath, and push my horse to go a little faster to keep up with the rest of my squad.
"Nice one, Reaper!" says Hanji. Bridget echoes the statement. Hanji and Bridget are the only ones in my squad not scared of me, even though I've been in the Scouts for eight years now. I smile to myself, grateful that at least a few of my comrades like me and that all of them respect me. I grip the reins tighter and adjust my hands.
Then I hear it.
"Corporal Levi!" Petra calls in the distance. It's terror that's in her voice and terror that's in my chest. I see the top of a titan's head near the place where the Special Operations Squad was supposed to be and I almost scream.
"Reaper," Hanji says from beside me. I turn my head to see that she's pulled back to ride beside me. She reaches out a hand across the gap between our horses and grabs my shoulder. "Don't do anything. Stay focused."
I nod even though I want to cry.
"Corporal!" Petra yells. I whip around to see the titan's hand near its mouth and my own jaw drops open in a silent scream.
The person in the titan's hand has their arms pinned to their sides, their legs obviously crushed and dangling. Their cloak is ripped and hanging together by mere threads. The Wings of Freedom emblem is visible and I want to set it on fire.
"Levi!" I scream.
The black head of hair that is usually so neatly parted turns around. Even at that great distance I think I can see a sad smile on his lips, and I know he's not afraid to die. I've always known that.
The titan's smile only grows wider as it brings my husband closer and closer to its mouth. I'm ready to kill it, to see if I can kill it from this far away, when Hanji yells at me.
"Reaper!" she yells. "Don't! It's not worth it!"
I know what she means. She means that it's not worth expending my precious energy on someone whose legs are crushed and useless. He's never going to be a soldier again even if I do save him. And even though I know that and I know that being "useless" would kill him far more painfully that a titan ever could, Hanji's words still sting.
I grip my reins tight enough that my knuckles turn white and will myself to wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up. I slam my eyes close and open them again, but the titan is still there and Levi is still in its hand and his legs are still crushed and I'm still about to watch the only man I'll ever love die right in front of me. I fleetingly wonder if this was what Eren felt when he watched his mother die, if this was what Mikasa experienced when she saw her parents murdered, if this was what Armin felt when his grandfather was forced out of the walls. I come to the conclusion that this is worse, because Eren's mother, Mikasa's parents, Armin's grandfather – none of them held my friends' hearts in the way Levi holds mine.
And as the titan's teeth clamp down I feel it rip itself in half and half again.
I bolted upright.
I felt sweat sticking to my skin and running down my spine. I ran my hand over my face and felt tears. As I pushed my hair back I felt more sweat accumulating in the roots.
Another nightmare.
It had been so real this time.
I looked over to the window to see that the orange sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon. I sighed, disappointed that I had to get up even if I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep again. Slipping onto the ground I padded across the dirt floor, my arms still shaking from the nightmare, until I reached my washbasin, grabbing the cloth and dipping it into the water that had gone cold overnight. I scrubbed my face and neck before squeezing out the cloth and placing it on the washbasin stand. I got into my undergarments and dress before putting on my shoes. As I was tying the laces on my shoes I looked across the hall to my mother's now-empty room.
My mother had had an incurable disease – or it was at least incurable for the amount of money we could afford to spend on it – and had died from it several days earlier. There had been coughing and hacking and pale skin and a bowl of mucus perpetually beside her bed. I suspected tuberculosis, but the doctor wouldn't tell me anything. He said it was too complicated for a young woman to understand, the emphasis on woman. I had wanted to respond by demonstrating my knowledge of the Krebs cycle but had thought better of it, instead opting to play the demure woman for once in my life. I had been too tired to argue.
Now that my mother was gone I was almost completely alone. My blunt nature made it impossible for me to make friends, my father had walked out on us when he found a prettier woman to marry (something the neighbors blamed my mother for, by the way), and I had no siblings. The only people I had were the ones in my questionably accurate "memories". And George, apparently.
"Uncle" George was George Gregory Hammond III, a man well-known for his intelligence and even more well-known for his money. I hadn't known this until my mother passed away, but my father had been a member of an incredibly wealthy family before his own father died, leaving all property to my father's older brother, George. That meant that I was, supposedly, George's responsibility until I was old enough to marry off next year. And because I was George's responsibility I was going to live with him.
I eyed the bag I had packed the previous night, the small suitcase stuffed with books and a couple of extra dresses and a set of my father's old clothes. It sat on a chair in the corner of my room, ready to go when they came for me, which would be any minute then. I finished tying my shoes and grabbed the bag off of the chair, going to my front room to watch for whoever was coming to get me.
It only took ten minutes at the most. I heard the hollow clops of horse hooves against the dirt outside my house and turned to look out of the window. There, surely enough, was an ornate black carriage waiting for me. I was taken aback by the beauty of it – why did it need to be so fancy when it was just a carriage? – when it dawned upon me that this was simply how George lived. He had enough money to spend on frivolous things like an ostentatious carriage. I wondered what the rest of his estate looked like.
A boy with blonde hair and a cap dropped the reins and stepped down from the driver's platform. He walked around to the front of the horses and nuzzled one's face before giving it something to eat from his pocket. I smiled to myself, but my smile dropped into shock when the boy turned around.
Jean and Marco (now named Carlisle and Jacob) had grown up in my village, so it wasn't as if I hadn't run into the people from my dreams; however, it was still a shock to see the blonde hair cut to his chin, ocean blue eyes, and pale, round cheeks that I knew belonged to who had once been Armin Arlert.
I reined myself and my excitement in. Jean and Marco hadn't remembered. There was no reason to believe that Armin would remember.
I grabbed my suitcase's handle and stood up from my chair, then went to the door. I looked around my house for one last time, realizing that this was going to be the last time I ever saw it. Strangely enough, I didn't care.
I turned the knob and walked out of the house, closing the door behind me. I still had my back turned to him when he spoke for the first time.
"Hello, Miss Hammond," greeted Armin. "My name is Jonathan and I'll be your chauffer for today."
"Hello, Jonathan," I said, looking down at my hands. "There's no need to call me Miss Hammond. I'm probably younger than you, anyways."
I turned around and pulled my shawl tighter around my shoulders.
"What would you-"
He stopped.
When I looked at him he was staring at me, frozen except for his trembling hands. His mouth hung slightly open and his eyes were wide, and it reminded me of whenever he had come across new things in his book about the outside world. It wasn't completely the same, however – his mouth took on a strange shape and his eyebrows rose in an expression almost reminiscent of fear.
He was scared I didn't remember. At least, that's what I hoped that look meant.
He coughed into his hand, obviously consciously willing his face to return to a more respectful expression.
"Sorry, Miss Hammond. You just remind me of someone I used to know."
He remembered.
"You can just call me Reaper, Armin," I said, my mind going almost completely blank with awe.
His eyes went wide again, but his mouth curled up into a beautiful wide smile.
"You have the dreams, too," he said. I hesitated, then nodded, still standing in front of my door holding my suitcase.
"I have more than dreams, Armin," I said. "I can remember it all."
"You mean they're… they're not just dreams?"
I shook my head.
"I don't think so."
We stood stock still for several moments before we were finally able to blink and breathe.
"Well, Reaper," said Armin, still smiling. "Go ahead and get in and I'll take you to Mr. Hammond's home."
"Would you mind if I just put my suitcase in the carriage and sat up there with you instead?" I asked.
"Not at all!" he exclaimed, almost laughing he seemed so happy. "Go ahead!"