That fateful night, the Scouting Legion never knew what hit them. Screams, gurgles, and the snapping of bones was heard throughout the thick pine forest.
"Retreat, retreat!"
Over the torrential rain, the squad leader barely heard the command. He pulled hard on his horse's reins, earning a cry from the steed. His head jerking in the opposite direction, he spotted someone's wings of freedom crest through the deluge and he jolted his steed in their direction. He opened his mouth to repeat his commander's instruction to his squad member but he was interrupted by a colossal, swooping hand. In a blink of an eye, his squad member had disappeared from his sight. He didn't allow this to stun him. Instead, he sprinted full steam ahead. Perhaps it was heartless, but he took a split second decision that could save his life and many others.
They had entered directly into a group of titans. As they grasped the severity of the ambush, the entire corps had dispersed in panic. It was only normal; with a handful of new recruits, low visibility, and a lack of proper formation, the squad leader had predicted this outcome. His goal was now to exit the forest as fast as possible, not out of cowardice, but out of common sense. Without an effective way of communicating, every soldier's first instinct would be to get the hell out of there and regroup before attempting a rescue.
He couldn't even tell if he was on the dirt road anymore. He was out of breath from trying to hold back his panic and soaked to the bone with mud and rain. His eyes unable to keep up with the blur of movements through the sheet of rain, he trusted his horse to dodge through the shrubs and trees. However, not even his steed had enough time to sidestep the enormous threat waiting for them ahead.
The 10 meter titan brought her great hand down to the ground, as if trying to squash him like an insect. Her hand smacked right into his side. He heard the splintering of his bones in his head. The impact caused his horse's legs to lift off the ground, and sent both of them flying through the air. He felt something in his leg burst once his horse landed on him, followed by a violent convulsion of pain. He and his horse were thrown several meters, tumbling about on the forest floor. Thoroughly coated in mud, he finally ended up on his stomach. His breaths were shallow, painful, and raspy; whether it was from being winded, several broken ribs, or from the large branch punctured straight through his chest, he couldn't tell. Dread washed over him when he couldn't move his head. Was his neck broken? When he finally found the strength to contort his head to the side, he stared at death itself in the eyes.
A grotesque visage gawked at him. Her monstrous hand reached out towards him; the epitome of gluttony. Unable to move, he could simply watch her hand approach his broken body as his vision began to blur.
"Erwin!" A voice shouted, piercing through the rain.
He heard the familiar zip of 3DMG before he found a person whipping through the air, weapon bared. With a war cry, his colleague brought their swords down upon the titan. The last thing Erwin saw before he fell unconscious was the sight of his fellow soldier being caught in the titan's hold as if they had been a pesky fruit fly. An earsplitting wail echoed in his ears and the image of the eruption of blood in the titan's hand engrained itself into the back of his eyelids.
The forest was quiet. Not a leaf moved in the breeze. The trees were not rustling; they were listening to the footsteps, horses, and wagons that echoed softly through the grounds. The group of travellers followed the path trodden by those long dead. Lyor could feel everything around her was steeped in loneliness.
"Wow," a civilian spoke, adjusting the backpack on his shoulders. "Something really horrendous happened here."
A group of seven strode through the remains of a battlefield. Strangely, they hadn't seen a single body. They didn't respond to the comment that was made; it made the entire group uneasy to come to the conclusion of what had happened to the bodies in titan territory.
"Will you just shut your mouth?" The man driving the wagon replied. "Some of us are already nervous enough just being out here."
"What's there to be nervous about?" The other man shot back. "The titans already had their breakfast!"
"Do you kiss your damn mother with that morbid mouth?"
Lyor surveyed the forest floor carefully as she walked along with her group, drowning out the sound of her group's bickering. The forest ground was blemished with multiple skid marks, trampling of horses, and remains of broken wood. She spotted a splintered tree nearby and what seemed to be dried blood. She shuddered and averted her eyes, imagining the sickening sound of a body hitting the trunk. However, something unusual caught her eye as she looked away: a peculiarly shaped mound of mud. She slowed her pace and squinted. Something metallic near the mound reflected the light from the sun.
"Lyor, where are you going?" Someone asked after her as she drifted from the group. She needed to take a closer look to silence the little voice in her head.
She didn't bother responding and instead made her way off of the dirt path and deeper into the forest. She reached the mound and recognised the glimmering metal; a broken military blade. Her eyes widened.
A man was sprawled on the ground, covered in so much mud that he looked like a pile of dirt. Save for the spared strand of hair, she wouldn't have been able to even tell that his hair was blond.
She gasped and immediately kneeled down to his side, unloading the bag from her shoulders. She rolled him over onto his back and turned his unconscious face towards her. It was covered in a sickening mix of blood and dirt. She leaned down and turned her ear towards his agape mouth, listening for his breathing as she pressed her fingers into his neck to feel for his pulse. Her heart twisted in panic when she felt a trembling breath on her ear.
"There's someone here! He's alive!" She forced herself not to yell as she stood up and turned to her group. Her brows knit in worry, she waved them over. Her comrades froze in their spots and gave each other incredulous looks. "He's hurt! Bring the med kit!"
They scrambled about, rushing to her side after they dug up their medical kit from the wagon.
Lyor moved over, allowing Heinrich, the most experienced member of her group, to take over. He scrutinised the man's wounds. From the top of his head to his feet, the older man felt around for damage.
"He's military," Rick sourly observed, kicking at the shattered blade on the ground.
"Yes, but he's a scout," Lyor corrected him. "The military police wouldn't be outside of the walls like this."
"Doesn't matter," He replied dryly, looking over someone's shoulder to get a better look at the soldier. "They're all the sa-"
"Most of his ribs are cracked or broken," Heinrich interrupted, wiping his brow. "He has a branch puncturin' his chest, his left ankle is fractured, and I wouldn't be surprised if he had some sort of head injury." Heinrich turned to his mates. "He won't make it even if we leave 'im a horse. He needs to be treated. Soon."
"I'll go clear a space to carry him in the wagon," Lyor turned on her heels without a second thought, but Rick caught her shoulder.
Rick scoffed, his eyes aloof as he scanned over the small group. "Did you not hear me when I said he was military? Do you know what the they'll do to us if they find out what we're doing out here?"
"We can't leave him," Lyor nudged her shoulder out of his grasp and continued on her way.
"Wait, Lyor," at the sound of her father's voice, she stopped. She turned to look him in the eyes. His amber eyes searched for her understanding. "Rick is right. We can't risk our entire group for one man."
"He's practically gone already…" Max muttered, a cigarette bobbing from his lips as he spoke.
Lyor took a look around the group and to her dismay, realised they were all in a silent agreement. Some nodded, and some simply hung their head, avoiding her gaze. Lyor clenched her fists, her knuckles turning white.
"How can you all be so cruel? He's someone's son! Or someone's father!" Lyor exclaimed.
"Lower your voice," Rick whispered harshly, skeptically surveying the forest grounds.
"Please understand," hushed Wilhelm, her father. He stepped closer to her. "It isn't safe for us to take him in."
"It's against my oath as a practitioner to leave 'im," Heinrich abruptly stood from the unconscious man and faced the group. He wiped his goggles with a cloth and continued matter-of-factly. "Leave me two horses and a tent. He'll survive the night and come morning, I'll take 'im back to the walls."
Lyor scoured Heinrich's face for any sort of sign that he was joking. She didn't find any. "I'll help you."
"You both know we can't separate the group," Rick argued, rolling his eyes. "It's too dangerous out here for an old man and a woman who can't even stay loyal to her cause."
"You accuse me of being disloyal because I won't let an innocent man die?"
"Enough," Wilhelm silenced his daughter. "No one is separating from the group and we are certainly not going back to walls so early into our expedition. We'll take him in on certain conditions."
The group turned to Wilhelm, stunned.
"You're kidding…" Rick crossed his arms and frowned, waiting for his leader's explanation.
"We'll treat him. If he survives, he is to stay inside his tent at all times. When we're on the move, the contents of every wagon will be concealed, and I'm sure I don't need to mention that not a single word of our plans will be shared with him. As far as he'll be aware, we're all researchers gathering foreign plants. When he is well enough, he will journey back to the walls alone. Understood?" Wilhelm eyed each individual sternly, quashing any objections with a glare the moment someone opened their mouth to protest. "Let's get him in a wagon and set up camp nearby."
Lyor nodded to her father, quietly thanking him for his empathy, and started her way to the wagon as everyone bustled about. However she was stopped yet again by a hand on her arm.
"Don't make me regret this," Her father cautioned. Lyor's lips pressed into a thin line.
"You can't regret saving another's life," She replied and carefully slipped out of Wilhelm's grasp.
The brown haired man watched his daughter run back to the wagons with their comrades. He let out a sigh.
"I told you she was too damn virtuous to come with us," Heinrich commented on his friend's distress as he bent down to the young man sprawled on the forest floor.
Wilhelm turned to him, taking off his hat to smooth down his hair. "You're not one to speak."
A weak groan erupted from the solider's throat as Heinrich yanked the piece of wood embedded in his chest out in one fluid motion. Wilhelm grimaced at the blood stained wood that Heinrich held up.
Heinrich sloppily flashed his set of yellow teeth. "Mahogany. Nice choice, soldier."