"The Titans came from beneath the waves. They came in number and force so overwhelming that all we could do was pray...the men on the walls fought in vain with their spears, but failed to bring down even a single one...Roaming the streets, they devoured anyone they could find. The army was helpless to stop them, and were themselves consumed in equal measure with the citizens. I watched as a mother and a child were torn in half with a single bite...I watched as what remained of the populace was forced into a corner, crushed, and devoured. Only the gods know how I managed to escape with my life. As I boarded the last ship departing from the opposite harbor, I was reminded of one indisputable fact: the Eldians are devils, all."

- Account of the Fall of Lago, c. 633

CHAPTER ONE

Brothers in Arms

August 17, 1724

South Marley

It was morning when the cannon fire started.

Henry Tybur woke with a start, as, in seconds, dozens of artillery pieces on the battlefield below let loose a withering hail of fire. Still half-asleep, he peered out of his tent, watching plumes of dust rise in the distance as the Eldian gunners found their first targets.

Rubbing his eyes, he yawned and got up out of his tent just as the artillery launched another volley. He couldn't help but smile at the sound of the guns firing in perfect unison.

Music to my ears, he thought.

There were many things that could be said about Henry Tybur. "He's handsome" was not one of them. "He needs a haircut," on the other hand, most definitely was. Thick, blond hair stretched down almost to his shoulders. Matted and unkempt like the fur of a stray cat in the gutter, it was getting to the point where even brushing it was difficult.

His eyes were the same dark green of the snow-tipped Marleyan pines that had, for days, been the only thing the Eldian army had seen during the long march north from Tybur territory. Like stalks of wheat in a field, flaxen stubble adorned his chin and the sides of his angular face, standing out conspicuously in defiance of the razor or any other attempt to tame its wild, weedlike growth. Overall, on the few occasions that he would look at himself in the mirror, Henry thought each time that he was rather good-looking, although due to his hair situation - which his mother described as "unfortunate" and "unbecoming of an heir" - he stood alone among his family in this regard.

Henry shivered and put on the blue uniform coat he'd been keeping laid out meticulously in the corner of his tent. Stepping outside, he breathed in the crisp, cold morning air. The sun painted the cloudless sky in brilliant hues of purple and orange with an artist's flair. It was a beautiful sight; he knew that, for many men today, it would be their last. That idiot better not be asleep, he thought as he looked over a few yards to the right at the tent identical to his own that served as the only other occupant of the hill.

White, cone-shaped tents stretched out in all directions, laid out neatly into rows intersected by wide dirt paths worn by the travel of horse and man. The camp was laid out like a miniature city, and on account of all the horse shit it even smelled like one. The Eldian army had chosen to encamp on a small group of hills, where the forests gave way to the grassy, frosted plains. In just four days they'd assembled the massive encampment and even constructed a wooden palisade, which bounded the north side facing the plains where the enemy had made ready for battle.

The hill on which Henry's tent stood served as an excellent vantage point, giving him a nearly unmatched view of what was going on. He could see the enemy's earthworks in the distance, and could just make out the shapes of men fighting, with the Eldians in white pushing back the red-coated Marleyans.

This first attack was just supposed to be a diversion, but they look like they're struggling already, he thought, watching the Marleyans struggle desperately to hold on to their positions. That's Marley for you.

It was impossible to sum up the feelings that the Eldians and Marleyans had for each other in a simple word like "hate" or "loathing." That would be selling it much too short. To them, it was a feeling as natural as breathing and as integral as the very hearts through which flowed the blood colored by the mutual hatred of two thousand years. They did not know why they despised each other so passionately - those reasons had long since been lost to history. All they knew was that the other was a nation so profound in its inferiority that the only correct course of action was to wipe it off the face of the earth.

When the Founder Ymir inherited the Founding Titan, it had tipped the scales of the endless wars between the two decisively in Eldia's favor. Up until now, the Marleyan nation had only survived by fleeing to different frontiers of the continent in their so-called "Exiles," as far away as physically possible from the ever-expanding Eldian Empire.

After all, when you were up against Titans, what else could you do but run away?

He rubbed his eyes again. The Marleyans had set up barely two and a half miles from the Eldian camp over the previous night, but, otherwise, had done nothing. Despite their arrogance, they had waited for the Eldians to make the first move. To any logical observer, this strategy would seem stupid; to one even remotely familiar with the Eldian army, it was nothing other than suicide. Henry straightened his coat out, but as he was brushing off a few spots of accumulated dust and dirt, something else caught his attention. He shook his head in immediate disappointment at what he saw.

"Hey, Henry!" a girl's voice called out.

A feathered shako covered her hair - imperfectly, as some black strands found their way out from underneath. She wore the white coat of an Eldian infantryman, along with black trousers and boots. For all intents and purposes - at least, from a distance - the figure waving to him was an ordinary Eldian soldier on his way to join up with his regiment and fight in the ongoing battle. Henry knew better. Cracks could be seen in the façade, especially from closer up as they met at the crest of the hill.

She was beautiful, despite making every attempt to appear not to be. Her thin face had been intentionally smeared with small patches of dirt in an attempt to hide her feminine appearance and make her blend in with the rest of the army, which had the effect of only making her bright blue eyes stand out even more. Upon closer inspection, Henry noticed that she was wearing a cavalry officer's white tunic, like his own, rather than the blue one given to the infantry to wear beneath the iconic Eldian white coats. She had a rifle slung over her shoulder, but it was over her right, not her left, which went against one of the most basic principles of Eldian drill. It looked like she was carrying a bucket in her right hand. As she approached Henry, water splashed from side to side, jostling the lid around and spilling out onto the grass below.

It was clear that her secret was not safe, and that the slightest look from any commanding officer with more than half a brain cell would bring an end to her brief stint in the Eldian military. Henry knew she was in way over her head.

But that was Teresa Ackerman for you.

"Morning, Teresa," he called back, grinning. He gestured to the water bucket in her hands. "You thirsty?"

"No, but I bet your brother could use a drink. Hold his tent open for me," she said, smiling deviously.

"Hold on a second."

For a moment, he peered through the open flap, confirming what he already knew what he would see: his brother, sound asleep. Even as an entire army prepared for battle, with the sound of cannon fire well within earshot, you could count on Louis Tybur to sleep like a log through it all.

"Wake up, Lou!" he called.

Louis didn't move.

"You wanna be late for your first battle?"

Nothing.

Damn. Oh, well. If that didn't wake you up…

He sighed. "Go ahead," he said, stepping aside.

Teresa ran up to the open tent, water splashing from the bucket with every step.

"Get up!" she shouted, dumping the entire bucket of ice-cold water onto Louis's sleeping face.

Louis shot up. "What the hell?" he cried, rubbing his eyes. He turned to face the intruder. "Teresa?" he asked, groggily. His bewildered expression softened when he saw who had woken him up, but only for a moment. Angrily, he shoved Teresa out of his tent, shutting the flap with authority. Henry and Teresa shared a laugh from outside, leaving Louis to come to terms with his situation.

"Shit! My coat! You got it wet! You got everything wet!" he exclaimed. "On Ymir's soul, if that shit got on the powder, too…"

"It did," he breathed. "It actually fucking did. The day of my first battle as a soldier and you go and ruin it. When I'm general and Henry's a Holder, I'm gonna have you locked in irons for this."

"He sure gets mad when he's cranky," Teresa sighed.

"I don't know what you thought would happen. You messed with his beauty sleep. There's an old proverb that goes-"

"I don't care," Teresa interjected, cutting Henry off before he could cite the wisdom of his ancient Eldian ancestors. Louis poked his head out of his tent, and walked out, crossly, wearing the soaked uniform he had been sleeping peacefully in not two minutes before.

No matter how much he hated to admit it, Louis was not like his brother. He had dark brown hair, bordering on black - unheard of in the Tybur family, who were known for their fair hair. Every aspect of his face, from his chestnut-colored eyes to his curly hair - still dripping wet - which hung down his forehead in messy bangs, to even the bit of black stubble on his chin, all seemed to say two things: "Me and Henry Tybur are not related," and "I look better than you."

"Morning, sleepyhead," Teresa said, smiling. "Sleep well?"

"Shut up." Louis groaned.

"For the record, it was Henry's idea."

"Why are you lying? For what reason?"

Louis laid eyes on his brother, and, from the look on his face you could have never told he had just had an entire bucket of what was basically ice dumped on him in his sleep.

"Hey, Henry! I thought I heard you," he called, beaming.

"Morning, Lou." Henry said. "Big day today. Are you ready?"

"If you'd asked that question five minutes ago, I would have said yes, but now…" Louis sighed, gesturing to his soaked uniform.

"You were asleep five minutes ago, stupid." Teresa said.

"Did I ask you?" Louis fired back, angrily. "You've got the wrong uniform on, by the way. I'd give you my tunic to fix it. Too bad someone had to go and get it wet."

Henry couldn't help but laugh. For as long as he could remember, the three of them had been best friends. The old days used to go by so fast, Henry remembered fondly, thinking back to when they were kids playing in the woods of the massive Tybur family estate without a care in the world.

Whatever had happened to them?

He watched as Louis dumped out the soaked powder cartridge on the grass, and gazed absentmindedly at the impotent pile of its spilled contents. He let out a brief sigh - he knew the answer before he even asked.

That's right. I joined the army.

It was typical among the eldest sons of Eldia's eight dynasties - the Holders, each of whom held massive, virtually independent territories and commanded their own armies - to join the household military at an early age. Henry had done so at thirteen, which seemed to be around the age other Holder children enlisted as well. Although he would have liked to keep those carefree days of his childhood around forever, he knew he had a far greater responsibility ahead of him.

As the heir-designate to the Tybur family, Henry was next in line to receive the War Hammer Titan. That wasn't all he'd be inheriting from his father; he was one of the most esteemed Eldian generals ever, and the weight of the knowledge that Lucius Tybur's legacy would soon be his to bear was never far from Henry's mind. Regardless, he was eager to live up to it, and recognized that some sacrifices would have to be made to this end. His time spent playing in the forest was among them.

Today's the day I prove myself worthy, he thought, tuning out Louis and Teresa's bickering. Of being a Titan. A general. A man like my father.

It was his first battle in four years of being a soldier. His first posting had been as a guard in one of the southern border forts in Castellano territory, which was about as glamorous as it sounded.

"It's for your own good," his father had said. "It'll build character. Make you stronger for the real thing."

All it had done was give him a crash course in shoveling horse shit. There was no point in the forts; after all, Eldia had no enemies to defend from. After a year of service in the south - if one could even call it that - Henry had resigned himself to the idea that he might languish in the desert heat for years. That was when Lord Castellano, the Attack Titan, disappeared. It was a great disaster, unprecedented in Eldian history, and threw not only his domain but the entire Empire into chaos. Still, as much as he hated to admit it, Henry was secretly glad that it happened. Wherever Lord Castellano had run off to, Henry resolved to thank him for saving him from a career of obscurity.

The "Southern situation," as it had come to be known in military and political circles, also helped Henry out in a different way. Laukirch Military Academy, Henry's dream school, mandated that all applicants have at least two years of military experience before applying. As counterintuitive as it sounded, the idea was that by only taking in those with prior experience they would be able to avoid teaching those elements of military life that those who served already knew - the terminology, the manual of arms, basic strategy, et cetera. As a result, although a good portion of applicants had to be turned down, Laukirch trained the next generation of Eldian officers with unequaled efficiency.

However, for the year 1718, Laukirch authorities had made an exception: all those who had served in Lord Castellano's army for a year or more could apply to Laukirch on equal footing with all other candidates. It was a rule that seemed tailor made for Henry, which, on account of his father, it probably was. He didn't care. The most prestigious school of its kind in the entire Empire, and therefore the world, was waiting for him. However, after only three years of the four needed to graduate, his father had pulled him out in order to take part in his new Marleyan campaign.

"Those Easterners may all be monkeys and brutes, but at least they put out some damn good soldiers," he had said to Henry on the day Henry returned home. "Regardless, I've always been a strong believer in a good hands-on education."

He had still been given his commission, but both he and his father acknowledged that he wasn't ready to assume the actual roles of an officer; thus, although he was technically a lieutenant of the 1st Household Dragoons, he was one in name only. At the very least, he still got to fight, which was all he could ask for.

"Shit! I just realized you made me late! I'm gonna have to get a new uniform and everything!"

Taking off her rifle, Teresa stood it up barrel first, leaning on the stock. "At least you don't have to carry this damn thing on the way there. I doubt our dads will let you miss it, but you should still probably get going."

"She's right," Henry said. "Let's move. We're probably already late as is. You can eat on the way." He handed his brother a hard biscuit.

"That's it? My first battle, and all I get's a damn biscuit…" Louis groaned. Still, he took it from his brother's hand a little too fast; in a matter of seconds it was gone.

"I'll never get used to these things. Tastes like cardboard," he said, his mouth still full.

"Don't talk while you're eating, Lou. It's improper," Henry admonished, ruffling his brother's soaked brown hair.

"Yeah, yeah. I know," Louis replied, with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Wait…You're not fighting, Teresa, are you?"

"Yeah, I am. Dad doesn't know about it, though. I know you're going to see him at some point, so keep it a secret."

"But you're gonna-"

"What?" Teresa interjected. "Get hurt? Die? Don't make me laugh. It's like you don't even know who you're talking to. You think just cause I'm a girl means I'm in trouble out there? I'm an Ackerman, Lou. Dying on the battlefield isn't something we're known for."

She put a hand on Louis's shoulder, and, in a softer tone, added, "You, on the other hand. Come back in one piece, alright? That goes for you too, Henry. Don't die out there."

Louis brushed it off.

"Speak for yourself," he said, with none of the earlier spirit that had so animated his voice.

Louis had joined the army to follow the brother he looked up to so much, and Teresa...why was Teresa here? Henry doubted even she knew the answer to that question. Regardless, none of them had ever seen the battlefield before. His brother's concerns were pretty well-founded, and despite the front Teresa put up, he knew she was having her own doubts as well.

Yeah, it's natural for them to worry, but what is there to be worried about? Don't they know who we're fighting? Marleyans, for Ymir's sake. We'll be out of here in two hours.

Henry led his brother away from their tents, down the hill, and towards the center of the camp.

"Bye, Teresa!" they called, waving.

"Later!" came the response from atop the hill. Before she disappeared down the opposite slope, he saw her sling her rifle over her right shoulder.

Still the wrong side, he thought to himself, snorting in amusement.

As they entered the main camp, they were greeted by the few men who still hadn't headed off to battle with shouts of "Prince Tybur!" Henry had always been unsure of how to deal with the attention; in situations like this, he found it prudent to just smile and wave. Groups of soldiers clustered around and pointed to the Tybur brothers, talking amongst themselves in hushed voices. He knew he would have to learn to deal with life in the public eye - he was the heir to one of the most powerful men in the world, after all - but it was still a daunting task. One he had not yet accomplished, and, at this rate, felt he never would.

You're a Tybur. You've got to expect that all eyes are gonna be on you today.

"Here we go, Lou," Henry said, breathing a little easier as they approached the center of the camp. An ornately carved mahogany table sat out in the open air, cluttered with maps and papers. There were four chairs, two of which were open, no doubt for himself and his brother. The other two were occupied.

"Right," Louis said, nodding, his determined gaze set not on the table in front of them, but in the direction of the battlefield.

Faintly, the screams of men could be heard off in the distance.