imagine a world
A/N: Back in June, I had Prince of Egypt playing in the background as I was writing this, the second scene to be specific. Now, a little more than a month later, I've decided to push for a longer story. Again, I'm taking my liberties with canon lore and history, worldbuilding, characters, and relationships.
Feedback is always appreciated, thanks for reading!
You are of noble birth, pure and true to the crown. But like all other people, you also dream.
"Will you die for humanity today, or will you live for its future tomorrow?"
So you dream, you fight, and you try to survive.
The training camp and grounds outside Utopia District are how you would expect them to be. Your mother warned you that you'd stick out like a fish in a meadow or a dog in a flock of sheep, but you paid her no mind. You knew you wouldn't be any different from anyone who volunteered for the Corps, and you wouldn't be treated any different. Grand name aside, you weren't someone to be wary of, and that was how it should be.
You're going to become a soldier, and you're going to set the people free.
"You were born for something greater than this, Victoria." Your mother had said when she bade you goodbye, "And you ought to know better than to participate in these things."
You hang on to the phrase. She said it as if being a soldier wasn't anything to be proud of. If anything, you envy them, how they can move freely within and outside The Walls. And it's a good thing your father is at least sympathetic to you.
"You'll come home, won't you?" He said as he waved you goodbye, "And in one piece, yes?"
He is a nobleman, but he was raised in a homestead outside Krolva District, where he grew up among horses and cows. There, he learned about animal husbandry and horse-racing, which he later passed on to you. You think it's a good thing that you're becoming to be like your father and not your mother.
From what you know, your father adopted your mother's family name Klaus, a show of just how influential and powerful her family is in Mitras. Though you've yet to learn about this sacred duty of the your family. For now, you've left that life behind, because starting today, until the next five years, you are in-charge of your own life.
"Name, soldier!"
It's the roll call now, something you've heard from other trainees on your way here, and it's an opportunity to show the instructor how determined you are and how strong your will is.
"Klaus, sir!"
Your mother's name is just a name.
"Your full name!"
Your full name is just a name too.
"Victoria Irina Klaus, sir!"
You can hear someone snicker.
"Fancy name." He grumbles, "Where are you from, anyway?"
You shouldn't tell, should you?
"Are you deaf, soldier?"
"Sir, no, sir!"
Should you?
"Are you deaf, soldier?" He steps in close, and you see his nostrils flare, "I asked you a question!"
Should–
"Hailing from Mitras, sir!"
The name itself falls from your mouth before you could stop it. You don't look up to meet the instructor's eyes, knowing full well that he's furious. You've heard how they forcibly intimidate the hopeful trainees here, to make sure of their will and determination. And you're determined, aren't you? You're going to be a soldier, just as you promised.
"Mitras..." You hear him mumble, "The capital city..."
You don't know if you should answer, but you do anyway.
"Yes, sir."
You hear a sharp intake of breath, he's exhaled through his nose, and prepare yourself for the worst.
"So a scrub from the Interior thinks she could be a soldier?" He yells out louder than before, and you think he's doing this to purposely humiliate you, "Get on the field and give me a hundred laps!"
What?
He shouts, "Get the coin outta your ears and run, soldier!"
The booming echo is what startles you away, what makes you pull your feet towards the training field and run. But you don't look at the other trainees. You don't listen to what they say. And you don't think about how they see you now.
"I said run, soldier!"
Because you're not Victoria Irina Klaus from Mitras anymore, you're just a soldier now. And though your training in the Interior gave you a little bit more stamina, you're more used to running on horseback than on your own two feet. You weren't trained to run, really, weren't you?
If Mother could see me now...
You imagine she'd scowl and wait for you to come back to her. But eventually, you manage to run the full hundred laps. Your skin is flushed from the heat and you can feel the pinpricks of soreness across your legs. You're about to cave in. You weren't built to run this much, you don't think anyone is. Still, you jog over to the instructor.
"Done, sir." You report to him, who's drinking what you think is his afternoon tea.
"You did ninety-eight." He says, frowning.
And you're about to cry and run back to the field when he says the next line in a hushed whisper.
"There's no shame in quitting this early. Kids like you aren't supposed to be soldiers."
You think there's a hint of bitterness in his voice, a kind of sadness and pity one could offer only to those who lack the knowledge, the experience. Does he feel sorry for you? Does he wonder what you could have done to be disowned and thrown to the wolves of the Training Corps? Is he thinking you're just here for the experience of it all, that you've grown bored of the Interior and want something to tell your friends about?
Well, he's only half-wrong. It's true that you're bored of life in the Interior, but you don't really have friends who'd like to hear these stories, and you have a real goal for what comes after.
"I will free our people."
You think back to when you said those words, and how naïve your mother must have thought you sounded. And instead of resigning to this supposed truth, you run back to the field to complete the two remaining laps, though your entire body protests.
"A hundred laps. I apologize for the miscount, sir." You report back to him upon finishing.
He stares at you for a while before responding, "Don't make a fool of me or the Training Corps, Klaus." His stern tone makes you think he's starting to take you seriously.
You nod. "I will never, sir."
And before he leaves, he tells you, "Noble-blood you may be, you have not yet earned my respect."
"I dare not demand for it, sir."
He nods and you salute for a goodbye, before collapsing to the ground. You pant and heave. You can feel the sweat on your forehead and across your back. The muscles in your legs are screaming. You squint at the sky, it is already high noon and you've only noticed it now. Were you that slow? But if you were, why didn't he tell you? Was this already a test? Did you fail? Are you going to be shipped back to the walls of Mitras–
Someone steps in the sun and casts a shadow over you.
"Klaus, huh?"
Your eyes adjust and you see a girl's face.
She's pretty, you think, with dark green eyes and hazel hair. She looks energetic, determined. Has she been here the entire time?
"Rupert." She extends a hand towards you, "Cecilia Rupert."
"Hi." You take her hand and she helps you up, "I'm..."
You aren't sure what name to give her.
"Victoria?" She smiles.
"Vic." You decide. Victoria is a mouthful, anyway.
"That was gutsy what you did, Vic." She snickers, "I like you."
Yeah, you think, you like Vic too.
Cecilia Rupert is your first friend outside of Mitras. She's eager to bring you along everywhere she goes. And you're equally eager to do everything she does. It's fun, you think, finding someone like her who doesn't mind that you're your mother's daughter, someone who doesn't even know your mother or would care to know, someone who just sees you for you.
"I wanna show 'ya something."
It's the middle of the night and she brings you to the stables where you keep the horses, and reaches inside a haystack. After a few seconds of fumbling, she takes out her arm and shows you a book. It's old and tattered, and definitely doesn't belong inside a haystack in the stables. It's going to get ruined that way.
"A book?"
She shakes her head. "It's not just any book," she says as she turns its pages, "it has all these pictures and drawings, but... I can't understand a single word."
You're sure Cecilia knows how to read, she wouldn't be topping at recitation otherwise. But she shows you a spread from the book. On the left is an illustration of a woman plucking a fruit from a tree. And the fruit is glowing brightly, that much you can tell from the rays of light drawn on the page. And on the right is the text itself, that, when you look closely, feels vaguely familiar to you. Like the letters are something you should know, but can't quite remember.
"Can't understand it either?"
You shake your head. "Where'd you find it?"
"You wouldn't believe it, but..." she shrugs and hands the book to you, "my dog found it buried behind the stables."
You look at it closely, at the faded text on the spine and the cover. You can't make out a single word or letter. You start looking through the pages, at the pictures, to try and figure out what it's about, what it means. It's strange enough that it's buried behind the stables, but that it's in another language?
Another language? But, what could it mean if it's...
"Who's there?"
A loud voice comes from outside, and you and Cecilia immediately dive down onto the floor. She giggles and you shush her, cradling the book close to your chest.
"Hello!"
You can both see the shadow moving in the moonlight, and neither of you are ready to be reprimanded and likely punished for sneaking out like this.
"Must be one of those rats again."
Neither of you make a sound and wait for the shadow to disappear, and when it does...
"Again?" Cecilia yelps softly and laughs, standing up, "You gotta wonder why he's out at night..."
She helps you up, and you both look at the symbol etched on the back cover. It's too dark, and you can't make out what it is. But it looks like a fruit, or a plant, something with swirls and curves. Was it a circle? Were these initials? Was it a name?
"What do you think this is?" You ask, "A book of... fairy tales?"
It's been years since you've last seen a book like this, with illustrations of fantasy and the whimsical. But these aren't uncommon, these books with pretty pictures, because you've seen so many like it and they all tell the same stories.
And this... Does this book have the same stories? So would it only mean that these fairy tales were from a time before them, before the walls? From an age where mankind was free to roam the world, that long ago?
"Fairy tales?"
Cecilia scoffs and takes the book from your hands, flipping through the pages like she's read this too many times, and stops at a spread. She shows it to you, and you gasp in shock. It's an image from the Scriptures, an image you and probably everyone knows.
On the right side of the spread is a woman, with long hair and clothed in simple garb, whose arm is extended towards a beast, at least that's what the Scriptures say. It is a beast from hell, the very depiction of a monster. Half-animal and half-man, with the head of a horse and the horns of a bull, the body of an ape, and the head of a snake on the end of its tail. Between them is a stone, glowing and shining.
According to the Scriptures, this woman defeated this beast with the power of the Gods. She felled this beast and shut the Door to Hell, and built a kingdom over it, Paradise, the very land you're in, to save mankind from the End of All Things. Later, she was crowned God-Queen and brought peace to the land.
And then the Titans came, demon spawns, remnants of the Devil, to bring about the End of All Things–again. But where do they come from? How many are there? Has another Door opened? Are The Walls going to be destroyed?
"Looks real familiar, huh?" Cecilia leans close to whisper, "I bet this is an ancient Scripture, a secret part of the Scripture. But why'd it be buried here? Someone's tryna hide it?"
You don't know how to answer her, but there's a feeling in your gut that tells you it's dangerous. This is dangerous. Possession of anything not sanctioned by the government is tantamount to treason, and if this book really is what you both think it is...
"Because it's dangerous." You blurt out, and Cecilia gives you a look.
"Yeah, well," she closes the book, "I can't understand it and neither can you."
"Still," you look warily, "it might be worse if they don't."
She looks at the book in her hands then at you, and frowns. She understands what you mean. They might think this was a secret code, and they wouldn't take your word for it, would they? This is an artifact, this is an ancient text, and if only there was someone who understood what it said–
Neither of you can risk it. Neither of you can risk being caught with this, no matter how interesting or how fascinating it is.
"So we're going to put it back." She says, looking around for a place to hide it, "And we'll be the only ones who know."
She finds a loose board on the wall, and you help her peel it open to wedge the book between the boards. You both pull the water trough to cover it. The book will be safe there, you both think, and you're the only two people who know.
This is just the first of many secrets you'll keep.
A few months pass without any issue, and before you or anyone else notices it, it's already been a year in training, a year away from home and all the comforts of life in the Interior can provide. The girls' dormitory is always filled with chatter and gossip among your fellow trainees, and you've been one to participate in a number of them.
"Matthew? You can't be serious. He looks like a pig's foot!"
"What about you, Elise? Thompson, really? You can do a lot better than that."
You know your mother would seethe at the sight of you participating in these conversations. She'd lecture you that she's taught you better, that though gossip is part of court, it's seldom worthwhile and oftentimes untrue. Your mother is too strict, you think, too straightforward and too frank, so it's no surprise she's so bored and disinterested at any story she's told.
"What about you, Vic? Any boy that's caught your eye?"
"Oh, don't even ask! I'm sure she's got lots of those in the capital!"
"Introduce some of 'em to us, come on."
"I would, if I had any."
You think about how your mother would react. You'd tell her, "It's all just fun, really. It's just something to pass the time." But you know she'd frown and tell you to focus on more fruitful pursuits, to further your studies instead of chattering like a vapid bee. But what pursuits are these? What studies, even? You don't even know what you're meant to become, what this greater purpose is. Was it marriage? Was it life in the King's court? Because you don't think either of those are better than a life of your own choosing.
"Really? I thought life in the Interior would be hassle-free."
"You're from the Interior too, Amelia."
"Yeah, but not in the Interior!"
You're more grateful to these new friends than you are to those in Mitras. You aren't even sure if you could consider them friends, those well-dressed and well-spoken boys and girls. You've never been completely able to relate to them; they so openly accept their positions and resign to the lavish, comfortable life in the Interior. That's not to say that they don't dream, of course they do. It's just that, you dream bigger.
"Who would ever want to go outside the Walls?"
"My older brother did, and now he's gone."
"And what's so great about the outside, anyway? There are just old ruins and Titans."
And that was precisely the point. The ruins. The ancient ruins, from what you've learned in your family library, are the only proof that there once was life beyond the Walls, that the Walls weren't there from the start, and that there was a much bigger, much grander world out there. The books could only say so much, however, about the ruins themselves. There was no information about whether the Titans inhabited these ruins, or if these ruins were being destroyed by the Titans. The only information available was that there once was life outside the Walls.
"Who's to say there can't be again?"
And that is a good enough reason for you to leave the Interior, for you to hold on to this dream of yours, and for you to keep your and Cecilia's secret... Well, a secret.
"I found something else."
Cecilia approaches you with a book in hand, one afternoon in the library. She opens it on a spread, an illustration looking oddly similar to the one in the old book. It's the woman holding a glowing fruit to her mouth, with a headless snake pooled at her feet. There was no accompanying text with it. In fact, seeing Cecilia flip through the pages, there was no text at all.
"What book is that?" You ask, curious if this was more a collection of drawings than an actual book.
"Dunno." She says. "It doesn't have a title or anything, but it looks old." She sniffs the pages before handing it to you. "Smells old too."
You both laugh.
"Maybe it's a drawing book." You suggest, "Maybe they forgot it and the librarian thought it was part of the books here."
"Doubt it." Cecilia huffs, "With how strict they are? No way. It has to be related."
To what? The secret book she found?
"But we don't know–"
"And that's exactly why!" She exclaims, eyes shining in the sunset light, "That's exactly why I'm going to join the Survey Corps."
You think it's a little too early to decide. You haven't even started actual training yet. You've only had classes and the basics of physical training. You haven't started hand-to-hand combat or ODM training, let alone reconnaissance and anti-Titan combat. It's too early to decide, too early to tell. But you think Cecilia would be a great fit for it.
"The Recon Squad, to be precise."
You've only heard very few stories about the Survey Corps' Recon Squad, but you know they're well-versed in cartography and are more like actual scouts and messengers than soldiers. But it would be a great fit for Cecilia anyway, with her determination and her eye for detail.
"What about you?"
Honestly, you haven't thought about it that much. All you wanted was a life of your own choosing, and a life you'd be able to call yours. You don't think it really mattered where you went, as long as it was your own decision.
Oh, how selfish you have been. Meanwhile, everyone else had bigger dreams and worthwhile goals. Instead, you have some of loftiest, most inconceivable ambitions of anyone in your batch. Free the people? Defeat the Titans? Find out if there was, if there is... Find out what? If there was or still is life outside the Walls? The source of all these Titans? Why the Titans look so much like people?
Ah, right. You asked that question before.
"Why do the Titans look like us, ma'am?"
And the instructor told you, "Because the Devil made them, trainee."
As if the Devil Herself was so... human?
So when asked the question of where you want to end up when, or if, you graduate, you think there's only one honest answer you can give.
"I just want to know."
Cecilia looks at you, but doesn't question your answer. Instead, she sits beside you and sighs. She knows the weight your answer carries, knows that you've got a lot waiting for you in Mitras, but there's so much more in the world outside. You wouldn't spend as much time in the library if you weren't at all determined to know, let alone curious about what exactly is happening in the world outside.
"Guess there's no point in vying for the top ten if we're going to join the Survey Corps, anyway." She shrugs, and relaxes her shoulders. She seems so sure that you'll join her there, like you both aren't aware that the Survey Corps is the frontline of humanity against the Titans.
It's a truth that no one dares speak aloud.
"It's a little early to tell." You reply, "What if I'm no good at using the ODM gear?"
"Then join the Recon Squad with me."
You laugh at her response, "You've got it all figured out, don't you, Cecilia?"
You love and admire how honest she is, as if everything in life really can be that simple.
"Of course." She nods vigorously, "It's my own life, I might as well plan for it."
You take her advice and think, maybe you should start making plans this early. There's no harm in it, anyway. And your mother did always tell you that you should always think ahead, think forward, and think in plans.
"The Survey Corps, huh?"
You recall the symbol for it, and think about the birds you often see flying overhead. If the Survey Corps really were humanity's Wings of Freedom, and if they did embody humanity's desire for a life without the Titans, then maybe it was a perfect match. Maybe you were meant for the Survey Corps.
Victoria Irina Klaus, a Scout.
You're starting to like how it sounds.