CHAPTER 10

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The camp was a chaos.

Jean had to jump back when the first rider passed him. The horses were strong; the muscles in their leg glistened from the sweat and Jean had an urge to wipe his own forehead for the same reason. After the continuous days of raining, it seemed as if the gray clouds stopped existing from one moment to another. Instead of rainwater, droplets of sweat covered his furrowed brows.

What the hell is going on?

Jean looked up to study one of the older soldiers' expression who was currently checking his gas tank, the dark brown horse nervously fidgeting under him. He read his unease clearly enough, as it was written over his face. The spasm in the soldier's jaws didn't last long, but it was enough for Jean to confirm his worries. Something obviously wasn't right and if it was something that even made the seniors nervous, maybe he should start panicking sometimes soon too.

"What the hell?" muttered Reiner, staring up at the shaded sky with a slightly tilted head. Jean followed his gaze and looked at the colored lines of smoke himself.

"Is someone having a party or something?" the blond continued with a snort.

"I don't think that's a party," said Armin, joining the sky-gazing group, the half eaten loaf lying forgotten between his fingers. "It's a Signal Flare. But you are only supposed to use one color... I don't understand."

"What does each color mean?" asked Jean.

Armin furrowed his brows, trying to remember. "Well, we are only supposed to learn about that after we are finished with Titan-anatomy, but I remember reading about them once... but the meaning depends on the mission at hand. I didn't even know there was a mission going on..."

Armin trailed off, sounding unsure, but Jean kept pushing.

"So what does it mean then?"

"I don't know..." he mumbled, "as I said, you are only supposed to use one color, not three. The green, I think means the change of formation, but they only use that beyond the Wall, so I suppose that's not the case... so instead it probably means 'mission started'. And yellow is mission successful or that the mission had been terminated..."

"That's a bit vague."

"There is a red line of smoke too, which means mission failed or titan spotted... this makes no sense." Armin shook his head, as if it would somehow clear up everything. "They oppose each-other. But then again I've only read about it once, so they probably have some more difficult combinations, and that one book didn't cover that..."

"No, your knowledge is up to date, Arlert. There aren't any combinations."

Tearing his gaze away from the sky, Jean quickly pressed his fist over his heart, noticing Shadis' presence for the first time. He may have had a voice that could have been heard even from Wall Sina, but his quiet steps reminded Jean of a cautious animal. The man's face was unreadable as always, but a ghost of unease glistened in his cold eyes too.

"At ease," he said in a low voice while his eyes followed the mounts. A woman with short black hair came to a halt as Shadis raised his hand, signaling for her to stop. With an experienced jump she was off the horse, the animal towering over her fragile built. She walked up to them in a fast pace.

The salute was perfect.

"Be wary of anyone you meet along the way," said Shadis. "It is possible that this is a trap. Disarm first, ask later."

"Yes, sir."

"Whatever happens, do not let it reach the camp."

"Understood, sir."

Everyone in their group fell silent as they watched the woman hop back on her horse. Armin, Reiner and Jean all gave her blank looks before confusion and anxiousness crossed their faces in various measure.

"Sir, what is the situation?"

It was Armin who voiced what was on everyone's tip of tongue. The answer however did not bring the assurance they hoped for; if anything it only deepened the frown on Jean's face.

"I don't know. That's why we have to take every precautions we can afford to risk under such a short notice."

"I...I see," Armin said.

Jean was silent himself, staring up at the lines of smoke for the umpteenth time as if it had somehow changed since he'd last looked at it. But it was the same. The light wind carried it West in a moderate pace, but if he wouldn't have checked it in every possible moment he wouldn't have noticed the change.

Once again it was Shadis' voice that pulled him back to reality.

"Ring the bell, Braun. I want everyone on the fields as soon as possible."

Reiner nodded and disappeared in the crowd. By now most of the cadets decided that the happenings outside were more interesting than breakfast left overs. They all stood outside, looking at the sky and looking at each-other. Some speculations were loud enough to reach Jean's ears, but even though he heard he couldn't listen. His mind was blank as a paper and a feeling simply didn't leave him alone.

This day is going to be worse than he bargained for.

He was afraid to be right.

It seemed as if the laws of time had somehow changed, since it felt like Reiner had only left seconds ago, but the bell was already ringing loud. He ran with the others and took his spot in one of the many lines of cadets. Marco was standing a few places away, his gaze fixated on the small spots, that were full-sized riders minutes ago. The road soon turned and they disappeared from sight.

Jean turned ahead, waiting for Shadis to start talking. The head instructor cleared his throat, before raising his voice.

"Silence!"

The last murmurs died down and an eerie silence fell to the grounds.

"We don't know what happened, but as soldiers we have to prepare for the worst case scenario. This is a real situation so I want everyone to treat it as such and act like the soldier you hope to become!"

The air stiffened, but Jean already knew that much so these news weren't surprising enough for him to cause him flinch. Many others did so in his stead.

"I want everyone to gear up and be ready in five minutes! Check the gas and fill it if necessary, grab your blades and make sure it's sharp enough to cut flesh! If someone is not here by then they will be spending the rest of their time here running until they rot away! Was I clear enough?"

Hurried footsteps followed his words, the dry sand dusting around their feet. It was a bit ironic that Shadis' threat seemed more dangerous than the unknown situation they were facing. Jean's legs carried him swiftly towards their barrack. After a sharp right turn he passed some dead bushes and turned left. The stock room came into view in full of its glory; it was an old shanty, built by wood that rotten away through the years. The planks creaked under his step as he walked inside, and he silently prayed that the building wouldn't choose this time to collapse over his head.

Although it looked older than the Walls itself, the equipment it stored inside was new and in a good condition. The straps were hanging from hooks hammered into the planks, cracking some of the wood with horizontal lines. Jean took off one, which seemed to be set for someone around his height and set it on the ground while the others arrived. The straps were a bitch, but with Shadis' words echoing in his mind his hands worked quick over the fastenings. He pulled it a bit too strong and the leather tightened around his thigh in an unpleasant way, but he left it that way nevertheless. He passed Marco, who was having a battle with his own equipment, and was losing, so with a sigh, he took the straps out from his friend's hand and after a short time of thinking, fixed it the right way.

"There," he said, patting him on the shoulder and grabbed two stacks of blades. They attached with a click to his belt and Jean suddenly felt ten times heavier.

As he was running back to the grounds, the blades knocked into his hips at every step. He wasn't quite used to the whole 'geared up uniform thing' yet and it felt awkward to walk, let alone run in that. When he reached his previous spot to wait for the next order, his hips were already dull and he knew, that they would be decorated by green and blue bruises in the next morning. Marco arrived just in time, moments before Shadis started speaking again.

"Alright everyone! Today is a perfect occasion to measure your competence in a real life situation. The point you will get, will depend on whether you will be a useful asset or a nuisance; however it will be, today will greatly effect and will be crucial for your final score. It could give you the boost you need to get into the top ten," he said looking through the cadets," or the blow that will make you fall, no matter how hard you tried so far."

Jean clenched his fist with determination. He could do this.

"Your assignment will be given to you, by -"

Before he could say another word two riders appeared on the road, both of them racing as if their lives depended on it. They looked alike from afar, but as they got closer Jean started to notice the differences.

While one was a bred horse with bulging muscles and a strong body, the other seemed far more weaker and instead of muscular it was fat. It was significantly smaller than its galloping mate and much slower. But what really made it stand out, wasn't the horse itself, but the rider. However it wasn't the boy's familiar face, that made Jean freeze, but his dark red clothing, that stuck to him as if it was his own skin.

Nobody uttered a word. They just watched as the riders approached. Even Shadis had seemingly lost his ability to speak, but he composed himself quickly; the momentary perplexity disappeared from his face and once again he looked like the experienced veteran he was. With an unreadable expression - which resembled rigour the most -, he waited for them to arrive. A low murmur waved through the crowd. It was mostly one word, one name more precisely:

Davis.

Jean heard that name before, but it was a common enough name. He wouldn't had been surprised if there was more than one Davis in camp, however this certain one was someone Jean memorized. He had been in a different barrack than him, but gossip wasn't an unheard thing between the trainees and Davis had quite a nasty reputation. He was known to be a dirty fighter and it always had been a difficulty to find him someone to partner up with, since after a while the number of volunteers drastically reduced. His nastiness was his ticket to the Wasteland and although Jean didn't know him personally, he was a bit relieved that non-team players were thrown out. If he didn't mind injuring others during the training, he probably wouldn't shed a tear if something more serious happened in a real situation. Not that it would directly affect him, since he would eventually end up in the Military Police anyway, but he didn't want Mikasa or even the damn Jaeger to die because of that moron. Eren would probably die by a moron but it would be only justified if that moron was himself.

The boy however looked worse than anyone did after his own handiwork. The amount of blood on his clothes was frightening and made Jean's stomach twist into an uncomfortable knot. Numerous questions crossed his mind.

What happened?

Is that blood? Like real blood?

Wasn't he on the carriage today? Wasn't he with Kalmbach?

Where is Kalmbach?

No, he told himself. Kalmbach was alright. He was sure of it. She was safe; she had to be. Safer than any of them. There must have been a perfectly logical explanation, why Davis looked like that. Maybe he fell out of the carriage. Hell, maybe Amy kicked him out herself. Jean smiled wryly at the thought. The boy may had been violent, but Amy had muscles and the boy was a stick.

They still ended up at the same carriage, he thought and the smile disappeared.

"Davis," Shadis said. "Alex," he said again turning towards the female rider. "What is the meaning of this?"

"We found him on the road in this state" she said out of breath. "He said they were attacked..."

The gasps made her stop in the middle of her sentence and she shared a pointed look with Shadis. The man nodded and they walked a few steps away where the woman continued in a much quieter voice.

Meanwhile Jean was too shocked to move.

It was an all too familiar situation; Marco's hand tugging on his arm, saying his name and him not listening. But Marco was more persistent now. His fingers clawed into his skin, not deep enough to break skin, but strong enough for him to hiss in pain and get his attention.

"Hey," he said, looking into his eyes. "It's going to be alright."

"You don't know that."

"You don't know it either. Whatever happened, she is tough-"

"She was a wimp," he said. "If she was tough she wouldn't have ended up there."

"But she is stronger than Davis. Cleverer too. I'm sure she is fine."

"You were sure she wouldn't end up hating me either."

"She is going to be fine. Don't make assumptions so fast. Maybe it is all just a misunderstanding..."

"Are you as blind as you are naïve?" he commented, feeling sardonic. "His shirt is drenched in blood."

Marco seemed hurt by his words, but Jean was already becoming an expert at that, so this wasn't a surprise. He didn't care. He couldn't. Not until Kalmbach was back, alright and unhurt.

He wasn't stupid enough to believe that.

"Jean," Marco tried again. "I know you are upset."

Jean didn't answer.

"Let's go and talk to Shadis," the freckled boy suggested, running out of ideas. "I'm sure he will tell you what's really up."

He pulled Jean with him, but Jean slipped his hand from his friend's grasp.

He can walk on his own.

Shadis was already getting on his own horse, when they got close enough to talk.

"Sir, wait," he said, trying to sound composed. But when their eyes met, Jean knew that nothing was going to be alright. He no longer saw a superior. What he saw on Shadis' face was what Jean felt himself.

Fear.

"I... need to go," was all he said and with a kick into the side of his horse he left.

When the riders returned they weren't alone. A crumpled body was lying on a small wooden carriage. It looked to be asleep. Jean might have believed it if not for all the blood. How can so much blood come from one body? The right arm was twisted in an awkward angle, bending farther than it was supposed to. A wave of nausea engulfed Jean and with a gulp he tore his gaze away from the sight.

"Everything is going to be fine, huh," Jean said, but Marco didn't answer.

They both stared at the lifeless body, feeling empty as if it were just a bad dream.

But reality hit in, when Jean noticed the familiar sharp nose and messy ponytail. But it wasn't blond this time.

It was red.

A/N:

Thanks for reading!

I raise my hat to anyone who can keep up a regular update schedule and I'm sorry that I can't. OTL

Anyway, I hope you've enjoyed this little, not so eventful chapter! I'm very grateful for all the reviews, follows and favourites, so if you have any thought, advice or criticism you would like to share it would be most appreciated!

As usual, English is not my native language, so my usage of commas is chaotic and grammar mistakes are most probable. If you notice any errors please feel free to tell me!

Thank you again!