Flight Range - The Versions (Breath of the Wild OST)
"Timid Beginnings."
Two weeks had passed since Thalia delivered the ODM gear to the Scouts.
In that time, she had busied herself by digging for what information her family had on the Scouting Legion. Or Recon Corps. Or Scouting Regiment. Or Survey Corps.
Saints, they had too many names.
Pops was more than happy to divulge in any information but he pointed her to Nonna. After all, she would know most of the answers Thalia had questions for by growing up with them.
So that was how Thalia wound up in the elderly couple's kitchen on an oddly cool June afternoon, the windows open to let a breeze ruffle the herbs strung up to dry. She watched the old woman bustle about her bright, herb and vegetable filled kitchen, her hands picking at the skin under her nails.
"David said you had some questions for me," Nonna said, pouring a cup of fresh coffee for the woman. She placed the mug and creamer in front of Thalia and sat down on the opposite side of the round kitchen table. The wrinkles by her eyes deepened as she studied the fidgeting woman.
Thalia's fingers immediately latched onto the warm mug. "I hand delivered some ODM gear to the Scout's base a few weeks ago. So it made me curious,"
Nonna waved her wrinkled hand in front of her as if to say continue.
Thalia slowly poured the cream into her coffee. She didn't know why her hands shook or why her heart pressed against her chest. She carefully lowered the creamer's container on the polished pine table.
"What is it that they do? I understand they collect Titan information, but it's not exactly public information," she said.
Nonna picked up her stitching from the basket by her seat. "The Scouts were the ones that found the weak spot on the Titan's neck," she said. She pulled her glasses from their perch on her head to the bridge of her nose, and held out her embroidery to see.
Her trembling hands slowly pulled the needle and thread through the stiff cloth. "They study Titan behavior by setting up camps. However, most of those camps are eventually destroyed by Titans," she said it casually, as though hundreds of human lives hadn't been lost during those expeditions.
Thalia suspected it was the only way she could cope with the knowledge.
"Who currently commands them?" She asked after a moment of cross stitch filled silence.
Nonna tilted her work closer to the window behind her, squinting down her nose. "Erwin Smith, I believe that's his name. He's young, if I remember correctly. Early thirties at the latest." She tsked. "The military is so desperate for commanders that they just let anyone take charge. Though, the last one was subpar at best,"
Thalia pressed her forearms on the table. "Who was the last one?"
"Keith Shawdis," she practically spat his name out. "My daddy died under his command,"
Thalia's heart dropped to the acid in her stomach. "Nonna, I'm so sorry,"
She pulled her needle through for another stitch. "That's the risk they make when they sign up. What other questions did you have?" She leveled Thalia with a look that clearly read Don't push it.
Thalia grasped for the floating questions in her brain. "How old do they have to be to enlist?" She lifted the mug to her lips, blowing the steam away before taking a slow sip.
The eldelry woman stabbed her needle through her cloth. "Twelve."
Coffee went down the wrong pipe. She coughed, pounding a fist on her chest. "I'm sorry, what?" A sickness washed over her. Thalia had her hands drenched in blood as a young child, but it hadn't been sanctioned by the government.
But the life she took had been human, not beast.
Nonna carefully did not lift her eyes to meet the baffled woman. "The younger they are, the easier it is to train them." She shot her a sharp look. "Your family's business isn't much better, girl. I'm not saying what the government allows is right, but you can't judge,"
She had a point. Thalia wasn't better.
She had been taught the forbidden art of killing humans, which was a horrible crime when humanity was already barely thriving. She was aware her opinions were heavily biased, but she didn't care. They weren't sending off sniffling children who barely knew their multiplication tables, to fight monsters. To fight a war the King was too greedy to properly fund.
Slowly, Nonna placed her stitching down on the table. She turned her head, carefully studying the thriving garden outside her window. The lines in her weathered face deepened and her brown eyes saddened. "Thalia, David told me of the man who came into the shop."
Thalia stilled. Every nerve stood on edge and she unconsciously straightened her spine.
Nonna's voice wavered as she spoke. "Be gentle with him. If he comes back, offer a place of rest. The Scouts experience horrors you will never understand unless you go outside the walls." Her voice softened and her eyes turned glassy. "They're like wounded animals. Scared and forced to stay brave."
Thalia stared into her drink, chewing on her lip. The swirl of the milk and coffee twisted and formed a spiral, much like her thoughts.
If Levi was still a squad member, he had to have joined later in life. However, he acted as though he were more experienced, more confident.
More and more questions kept forming in her mind, but she did not want to bear the weight of pushing Nonna too far over the edge in her fragile state. No, they were questions for another time.
Thalia carefully steered the conversation away from the Scouts and her Nonna's childhood to the gardens flourishing outside and the embroidery Nonna was making for Fern.
A voice inside of her whispered that her patience would soon pay off.
It was around five in the evening when he came stalking in.
Thalia said nothing from her perch on the stool as Levi slipped through the door, a stack of papers tucked under his arm. He harshly pulled out the chair to the lone, circular table in the corner by the bar. The chair legs scraped on the scuffed floor. She had already lit the lamp in the center, wanting the extra light to chase away the gloomy day.
His back was rigid as he sat, eyes downcast. His motions were stiff as he pulled out a slip of paper, like a marionette. He flicked his eyes up to her. Deep bags pushed into his eyes, making them look smaller. "Not going to say anything to your customer?"
Thalia rubbed the pads of her calloused fingers together. "You didn't look like you wanted to talk." She might not know the man, but she did know how to read body language. The tautness of his shoulders and the way he scanned the room was like flickering candle in a dark room. He was on edge. Thalia had dealt with enough nervous soldiers back home to know when to leave them be. She didn't fancy getting burned.
He quietly tapped his fingernail on the chipping wood. "At least you're not a dumbass,"
Her hackles didn't raise at the jab. She couldn't bring herself to be offended. The way he studied the dark corners of the room like something was about to jump out made her heart ache. She wondered how many casualties impacted the branch this time. How many soldiers he witness getting eaten. How many shrieks echoed in his ears.
She might talk smack about them but she didn't wish death upon them. They were fools for rushing out there, but she didn't want any of them to be crushed by human molars.
Saints, since when did she care? She was going soft.
But Nonna's words echoed in her mind. They're like wounded animals. Scared and forced to stay brave. They experienced horrors you will never understand.
She was right. Thalia's family laughed at death's face, whereas the Scouts fought off its cold, bony fingers with all their might.
She watched him shuffle the stack of papers. Always moving. His fingers couldn't keep still, his foot tapped softly, his eyes would scan the page then the room. Hunting. Searching.
Then, "Is the shop always so damn filthy?"
Thalia startled so badly that she almost fell off of her stool. She put her foot down and pressed, keeping herself upright. White pain shot through her shin. "I'm sorry?" she grit her teeth. Her eyes prickled.
He must have thought she was offended (she didn't care), because he rolled his eyes and snorted. "There's dirt everywhere. And those limbs hanging like limp fish are creepy. Doesn't it scare away customers?" He waved his hand at the false hands and legs.
Taking a deep, calming breath, she carefully pulled her leg up on the stool peg. Absently, she rubbed the palm of her hand over the bone. She should have kept her braces on. "No one comes in here. We usually meet customers in the cafe anyway,"
"The owners don't care that there's a creepy mechanic next door?"
He was full of it today. Her irritation rose with the searing pain in her leg. "It's my sister's place. Don't you have some paperwork to do?"
That shut him down. He glared at the papers, as though they were mocking him.
She squeezed her eyes shut, pinching the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. Be gentle with him. He just got back from seeing comrades eaten alive. And to top it all off he has a mountain of paperwork to fill out.
She lowered her hand, opening her eyes. "What squad member has paperwork to do?"
He flipped a page over, tenderly picking up his pen. "I was promoted to captain a week ago,"
She blinked. "Congratulations,"
He didn't look happy. Bitterness twisted his would be handsome features. "I'm only captain because our last one became Titan lunch."
Thalia didn't know what to say. She would never have voiced that thought to a near stranger, even though it was true. He was blunt, but she admired that. People dancing and tip-toeing around heavy topics set her on edge.
She stilled the fingers massaging into her shin. "I don't know what to say. My condolences of course, but I know you've heard that too many times,"
He snorted again. The man vaguely resembled a pig, she mused.
Thalia reached for her textbook she had left abandoned when he slipped in. "You're welcome to come here and work on documents for some quiet." She knew Pops would offer the same thing in a heartbeat. Might as well beat him to the punch.
He flipped a page. The crinkle of the paper felt too loud, voicing his anxiety. "The old man already told me that when I came in the bakery."
Well then. She resisted the urge to pull a face at his hunched over form.
"But thank you," he said. It was soft, almost a whisper. Like the words were forgien on his tongue.
Such a strange little man. At least her investigation on him won't be difficult, seeing as how he invited himself into her den.
Then, she looked up. "Levi, there's a soldier I met the other day, her name is Petra Rall. Did she make it back alive?" Saints, the girl died she didn't know how she would feel. Enraged? Depressed? She met the girl once and she didn't know why she cared, but it had been weighing on her mind ever since she heard they had returned.
Levi thumbed through his papers, scanning over the names. Thalia's treacherous heart pounded harshly against her ribs. Her fingers nervously played with the edge of her ribbon that kept her hair back.
He muttered something softly and shook his head. "She's still alive." He shot her a questioning glance. "Why do you care?"
Thalia released a breath she didn't know she was holding. She sank her arm comfortably on the counter and mindlessly flipped the page of her textbook. "No reason."
She really was going soft. Her stomach clenched uncomfortably. She hoped the Don wouldn't find out about that somehow.
Out of the corner of her eyes, she studied Levi. The way his shoulders slowly curved forward the longer he worked and how he rubbed his eyes every few moments.
A strange man indeed.