It was her first day of furlough since the beginning of her military training, but Historia could not find it in herself to be happy about it. For three years, she had learned exactly what pleased every other person in her brigade and acted according to those pieces of information. She was kind and helpful towards everyone and often volunteered to do the work that no one else wanted to be forced to do. As a result, only a few weeks after her arrival, she was always greeted with enthusiastic smiles by the other young recruits, so she was quite assured she was appreciated. She knew that people liked her, or at the very least, needed her, but it had taken her a lot of effort and she was already tired thinking about how she would have to go through the same process again today, meeting people who had never met her and who would probably never see her again.

She was eighteen now, and in a few weeks, she would be sent to the front, to fight against the soldiers on the other side of the Wall, and there she would find death.

It had been an exhausting process, but finally, it was coming to an end. No one had ever cared about Historia Reiss, but it was okay. Because Krista Lenz was liked, she made sure of that, and she made people happy. When she would die a hero, selflessly sacrificing herself for her country, the pale remnants of memory which subsisted of Historia Reiss would vanish into nothingness, and only the legacy of Krista Lenz would remain. If not in her life, at least in her death, she would be remembered as a good and helpful person. It could have been worst, after all. She had been given a choice. All these years ago, when one of her father's men had killed her mother right in front of her eyes, her father had told her she would be allowed to live if she joined the military and hide her true identity. It was her one choice, and she had been glad to accept. Historia had never made anyone happy. So, she had killed Historia with her own hands, for she hated her more than anyone else, and replaced her with a more likable person.

But this day, she would have gladly dealt without, even though she had other knowledge on how to make herself likeable than studying people for a long time. When she was young, she had grown up away from the city and civilization, in a faraway farm, where her only company had been her silent mother, a group of farmers and ancient and dusty books. She had learned about relationships and communication by studying the way people interacted with each other in those books. She remembered there was a fairy tale book with a little blonde girl, who was loved by everyone because she was always kind. Historia had since then forgotten the name of the book and the name of the girl, but never the lesson she had learnt.

"Are you sure you don't want to come with us?" asked Sasha.

The outgoing young women was standing next to her best friends, Connie and Jean, a big smile on her face. They were planning to go to the city center to see the party. They were celebrating, because an important battle had recently been won. A lot of people were already there, and Historia felt dread already, seeing how happy and joyous and true they looked. She felt so tired. She really did not want to deal with all of this today.

"Yeah, thank you for asking" she answered with the most honest smile she could manage. "There is something I need to do before going there."

Sasha looked like she wanted to protest, but Jean gave her a look and she stopped.

"Be careful though, if you're wandering alone in the city. You know what they say about the witch Ymir. She eats the hearts of young girls!"

"I'll be alright, don't worry!" Historia answered. She did not say why, though.

The truth was, no one had ever been interested in her heart before. She highly doubted a witch, of all people, would care about it.

She waved at Sacha and the two boys and turned around, in the direction of the Rose avenue. People were waving past her without noticing her, caught in their own world, and she welcomed the silence for once. As everyone else, she had heard a lot about the wizards since she arrived in Rose District, but had never met one. She knew a lot of rumors, and she did not really know what was true and what was not. She knew wizards were working for the king, helping them in the war. She knew there were wizards the other side of the Wall too. People seemed to fear the Witch of the Waste, but the whispers surrounding the witch Ymir seemed even more frightened. Some called her The Rogue Witch, some said she was eating girls' hearts, some said she was the shadow you could feel in your back, sometimes, after the night came. Sometimes, you could see her castle, away from the city.

The sounds of the violin became fainter and fainter as Historia walked away from the center of the city. She was so lost in her thoughts that she almost collided into the man in front of her. He spoke before she could even apologize.

"Hi, little one," the man said with a smile.

The man next to him laughed, and advanced closer to her.

Historia smiled politely, and took a step to continue walking.

"I don't think I've seen you before," the first man continued. "Maybe you're not from here. I can buy you a drink at the party, if you want."

"That's really kind, but no, thank you, I really have to get going-"

"You see that, Leonard, you're scaring her with your big face!" the second man exclaimed.

"It isn't nice to refuse such an invitation, though."

Historia felt a bubble of panic grow into her lungs.

"You don't need to be scared of us, we're nice people here! We will take good care of you…"

She took a step back, her blood growing cold, when a third voice exclaimed in her back:

"There you are! I have been looking everywhere for you!"

She turned around, and came face to face with a young woman she had never seen before. She was much taller than her, by around thirty centimeters or so, and her slim shoulders were covered by a long scarlet and bronze cloak, with long sleeves that she did not seem to bother to put. She had tanned skin, a face covered by freckles, and short brown hair which fell on each side of her face in untidy waves. Her sharp, piercing, golden eyes anchored themselves into Historia's, and she felt a sense of dread. Nothing could be kept hidden from that gaze, she thought without knowing why.

"Who are you?" exclaimed one of the men.

"Someone who finds your presence here to be a terrible source of annoyance."

"Hey!"

"In fact, why don't you take a walk? I'm sure you'd be delightfully happy to take a walk."

They opened their mouths in protest, but before they could say anything, their lips muffled their words, their entire bodies rushed them forward, and they began to walk very stiffly towards the end of the avenue, like a duo of puppets.

Historia's eyes grew wider. She turned towards the other woman in shock. That was clearly magic! She had just witness magic! Then this young woman must have been a witch.

"Thank you, hum…?"

"You don't need to thank me, I merely did this because they were hurting my ears with their stupidity. Where were you heading to?"

"I…"

The stranger quickly glanced behind her, then narrowed her eyes until nothing was left but two sharp golden blades.

"Don't turn around," she muttered. "We are being followed."

Before Historia could ask by who, the young woman put her hand on her shoulder and started walking at a quick pace. Historia kept her gaze in front of her, despite her curiosity, but she heard whatever was following them. A smooth, wiggling sound, very foreign, very different from everything she had heard before. It was not the sound of a group of people running after them. After three years in the military, she knew the sounds of every type of breath, every beating of heart, every gasp for air. It was not the sound of a machine either, regular and mechanical. It was like the sound a shadow would make, if it could talk.

And the sound was growing rapidly.

"They're getting closer. I hope you don't have a fear of heights."

The stranger's grip tightened around her shoulder. She raised her leg.

And then they flew.

A gasp escaped the soldier. They were flying. They were getting farther away from the ground every second. Soon, the ochre cobblestones were reduced to tiny sparkles. She felt the wind in her blond hair, and suddenly she felt utterly, completely free. How wonderful it must be, to be able to fly in the sky forever, without having to pretend, without having to deal with everything else, with everyone else. From here, the city actually looked very beautiful, she realized. It was a kaleidoscope of colors, the vivid green of the oaks, the pale, salmon pink of the rooftops, the colorful silhouettes, faraway, dancing and laughing around the stone fountain. How amazing it was, that everything appeared differently with the simplest change of perspective.

The air was cool, but it was still pleasant, thanks to the sun who was shining brightly above their heads. She laughed, and the sound echoed with the faint violin melody of the party.

The young woman looked at her.

"Don't fall. Keep moving your legs as if you were walking".

It came to an end too quickly for Historia's taste, and they landed on the rooftop of the military quarters.

The stranger walked until the very end to the rooftop, and put her hands against her hips.

"They should be gone, now. Be careful, though, in case they come back. You might not want to dwell here alone too long."

Historia joined her on the line between the gap and the roof.

"Who were they?"

The witch hesitated a bit, before answering:

"Beings who have forgotten who they were."

Historia tried to forget the uneasy feeling these words created into her stomach.

"And who are you?"

She laughed.

"Me? I'm the biggest fear of this city."

She jumped forward, and she quickly flew away, as easily as if she was simply running in the sky. Soon, she had disappeared. It was as if nothing had happened at all.

How good it must feel, to be able to fly. This feeling of freedom is the greatest feeling in the world.

Historia had been sitting on the rooftop for only a few minutes, when the window which was connected to it opened.

"A literal angel!"

Connie climbed up, quickly followed by Sasha.

"You were flying!"

"Was I really?"

Part of her thought it must have been a dream. A beautiful dream.

"Yeah, we saw you by the window," answered Sasha.

"What happened?"

"I'm not really sure. I thought I was dreaming."

"You're lucky it was not the witch Ymir! You would have lost your heart."

Historia simply smiled, and she went back inside the building with them to join the festivities.

When the banquet was finally over, Historia felt so exhausted she was barely walking straight. Hours of pretending to be excited about officially joining the military ranks had left her completely fatigued. She did not feel any happiness about going to the front. She felt relieved, because it meant that her life would finally have a purpose, that she would finally be able to do something that mattered, to sacrifice herself, but happiness was a foreign concept in that regard. Since she had no other choice but to take part in the war, she had to die before anything else happened.

She did not think she would be able to kill someone she did not even know. As soldiers, that was what they were preparing for. To kill. But what if the soldier in front of her was innocent? What if he had never wanted to be here, either? Could she really kill him? Who was she to kill him?

She knew that the soldiers of the other side of the Wall were the enemies, that their country and hers had been at war with each other for longer than a century. But that did not mean they were all guilty. There must have been another soldier, who, like her, was only here because he had no other choice.

She still had a few weeks before the front. A few weeks, and then, she would not have to worry about who was guilty and who was not anymore. Because everything would be over for her. At last, she would be free.

Once again, she had volunteered to do the ingrate task. This time, it was tidying the banquet room before tomorrow. They would have another meeting about which army corps they would join.

She heard footsteps behind her and immediately turned around.

She was met with the icy gaze of a blond young women, barely taller than her, who was eyeing her with circumspection. She was frowning, and did not lower her gaze for a second.

"Are you looking for something?" Historia eventually asked.

The stranger simply shrugged. She was entirely covered in dark fabrics, who reminded her of something, but she could not quite say what.

"I don't understand," she finally answered in a bored tone. "I don't understand what makes you so special you should be used as a tool to catch Ymir's attention. You don't look like a really powerful person. He must be getting desperate."

Now it was Historia's time to be lost. What did she mean?

"I am sorry," continued the girl.

And she really did seem sorry, for her bored expression dropped quickly, to be replaced with something who looked like pain.

"In my opinion, you were probably at the bad place at the bad time. But now that it's done, they need me… I need you to convey a message."

She clapped her two palms together, and a spiral of blue light suddenly appeared, until it condensed into a transparent crystal.

Magic.

For the second time of the day, she had witness magic.

But this time, it was directed towards her.

She jumped, but her body was immediately stopped by something which seemed to be solid ice.

"I really am sorry," repeated the witch.

She pushed her crystal into Historia's heart, and the young women felt it grow into her body, a cold feeling turning liquid and spreading into every vein, every artery like blood. She felt that something was wrong with her body. It hurt. She was surprised by how much it hurt.

Sadness, anger and finally apathy flashed into the other girl's gaze.

"You won't be able to talk to anyone about your curse, or of who did this to you, unless they discover it themselves."

What was happening? What was happening to her?

"Send my regards to Ymir."