851: the sea

It's beautiful.

Not that he'd ever admit it. He's always appreciated beauty, especially in nature – the sky, both day and night, is so full of wonder – but years of hardship taught him there is little time for beauty, and that the eye-widening, heart-stopping moments of awe are always short-lived, cut short by reality. To avoid being caught off guard, he quickly corrects his instinctive joy and remains impassive, at most allowing himself a 'not bad.'

The others are playing. On the outside he might seem to disapprove of his frolicking comrades, but underneath, it's good to see them happy, and not only happy, but acting like children. They are children, after all. They should play. Splash water on each other, laugh, investigate this strange new place. He knows it's only a matter of minutes, if not seconds, before Hanji does something dumb, but even though she isn't a child like the others, and even though he already knows he'll scold her not to pick up that potentially dangerous thing, he also knows he won't stop her. She deserves to have fun, too.

The others have all pulled off their boots and rolled up their pants in order to play in the water. Even Mikasa. They didn't bother suggesting Levi join them, knowing full well there was no way in hell he'd wade into that festering giant salty lake of who knows what.

"Come on, join me! The water's great!"

He looks up and stares the memory in her face.

"Are you coming or not?" she teases. It's the same Shannon that once coaxed him into her favorite swimming hole, but it's so easy to imagine her standing here, wading knee-deep into the foaming water.

She would have loved this place.

It's unfair. Why should he get to be here, when he can't even allow himself to enjoy it, when she would've taken so much delight in it? She would've been the first to yank off her boots and run into the water. She would've joined the children in their antics, while also taking a moment to stare out at the magnificent endlessness in reverent silence.

And she would've made him enjoy it, too.

He can imagine her reaching out, beaming. "Come on, Levi!"

I can't.

His hand has reached out unbidden, and he lowers it, allowing the fantasy to fade.

So many others that could. So many that could love this, enjoy this, appreciate this. Isabel's eyes would be glittering as she laughed, enraptured. Farlan would be calmer, but no less awestruck, captivated. Erwin, mesmerized, would stare out at the possibilities.

But he can't. And they can't. He's seen too much, and they never saw enough.

His thoughts drift homeward. Isabel would love this place, too. If 16-year-olds and a grown woman were reduced to such silliness by this scene, what would it do to a 7-year-old romantic? A part of him wants to bring her here, to share it with her. The look on her face would be even better than the view.

It's not impossible. The world is changing. Now that the titans are gone – more or less – anyone with a horse, or even just a good pair of walking shoes, could come here. The sea is no longer a fairy tale.

But neither is the world beyond the sea. Their world is changing, expanding, and it is becoming even more dangerous than before. It was unfathomable that things could get worse, but that is exactly what is happening.

Isabel is seven now. She's still young, but she's old enough, and it can't wait. He needs to teach her to protect herself. He wishes she could remain an innocent child forever, but he's already pushed this off for too long. It's time she learned to fight.

He glances over at Armin, who has picked up an exquisite, porcelain-like object. His eyes are sparkling.

Isabel needs to be able to fight. But she is also still a child, just like these young soldiers. It is okay to preserve the wonder. Levi wants to preserve the wonder.

He bends down and picks up another one of these porcelain spirals. He is careful, both afraid of what it might be and of breaking it. He remembers being young, and having his wonder physically shatter in front of him. He doesn't want Isabel to experience that.

After making sure it is as clean as possible, he wraps it securely in a piece of cloth and tucks it into his saddlebag.

He can't wait to bring Isabel a piece of the sea.