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Ch.41- "Dogma"
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Getting dressed on his own hadn't proved particularly difficult- it was just very slow. He had to remind himself to take his time. His eyes kept going to the empty right sleeve as he carefully and methodically did up the dozens of little buttons on his shirt. It had been the first thing Thomasin noticed too, when she'd noticed him from where she sat behind his desk back in Trost…
"Doesn't that bother you?" Erwin followed her gaze, lifting his stump and watching the empty shirt sleeve flutter.
"I'll probably get used to it."
"You don't need to get used to it. I can take your shirts and jackets and stuff to a tailor and have them cut your sleeves shorter and hem them. I mean, it's not gonna grow back- trust me, I've tried." He huffed, rolling his eyes slightly despite his amusement.
"Don't you think you've done enough for me without looking for more work?" She scoffed quietly, standing up and approaching him. She plucked at the sleeve.
"May I?" He nodded, and she reached into his half-buttoned shirt, past the still bandaged remnant of his arm, to grab the sleeve. She began pulling it inside out until most of it was inside the shirt. "You don't want loose things flopping around to get stuck in doors and shit. Why do you think I always tie off one of the legs when I wear pants?" For a moment, it seemed like she wanted to finish buttoning his shirt for him, but she ultimately just gave his whole arm a reassuring pat and returned to the desk.
"And it's not more work. My sick leave's almost up, and I'd like to make sure you're all set up before I have to go back east…" Finally doing up as many of the buttons as he could be bothered with, he reached for the bolo tie, noticing Thomasin playing with one of the handles of his desk drawers.
"I hate that you've had to waste your sick days on me…"
"Don't- that's what they're for, after all. And hey, if you feel really bad, you can use your sick days on me" He could no longer slide the cabochon up the waxed leather laces smoothly, reduced to a slow, jerking pace.
"I don't get those in the Survey Corps."
"Well, since you're going up to talk to the Assembly anyway, you'd better fucking ask for some. I demand reciprocation, dammit!" The teasing in her voice and smile made it hard to believe there had ever been any harsh, hurtful words between them. Grabbing his dress coat from where it hung lonely on his wall, Erwin rounded the desk and bent to kiss her temple, his lips brushing against the still raw scar just beside it. The fact that he could move with so little effort felt like a miracle in its own right. He would never take such tiny, simple motions for granted again.
"I don't see those jackasses affording the Corps anymore luxuries, but if things don't go completely sideways, how about when I get back, we go somewhere off base for dinner?" She frowned slightly.
"Are there even any restaurants left in Trost? I kind of figured everyone who could packed up and left."
"Most people did. There are still some remaining, mostly because of the Reeves Company. Granted, that means all the best restaurants are in the industrial district now, but you aren't picky, right?"
"I'll eat a shit sandwich if someone else cooks it." He pulled her into a one-armed hug, attempting to pull her back against his body, but she resisted, still toying with his drawer handle.
"What is so fascinating about that drawer, Linde- Smith. I have to remind myself that you are 'Smith' now."
"Oh, nothing…" She pulled it open, grabbing the topmost item and holding it up for him to see. "Just this." Thomasin tilted her head back, practically staring up his nose as an embarrassed flush slowly spread out from his cheeks to the rest of his face. "You, uh… you wanna explain this, Smith?"
"Not particularly." A picture frame, a very simple one. No carvings, no stains, just wood and glass holding a sheet of paper somewhat yellowed with age. Not a portrait- more of a field sketch of a dark woman stretching in a shirt far too large for her.
"Did you draw this? It's very good."
"No. That would be the work of Moblit Berner. Hange's XO …it's a long story."
"Well, pass on to XO Berner that he's very talented to have made me look so good… that or he's half blind." Thomasin ran her finger along the glass. "I wonder how much he charges for his services; Iwouldn't mind having a drawing of you."
"We'll see about that when I get back…"
Erwin really shouldn't have been allowed to make plans for anything outside of the Survey Corps. Ever. Two days. He had no intention of staying away from Trost for two days, but his background request on "Krista Lenz" had sent him far up north to the clerk's office in Orvud, only to return to Ehrmich to even more disconcerting news. MPs, barging into his branch's headquarters, without his permission. Interior MPs, according to Hange, who had taken Thomasin with them on their way out, not content to leave her by her lonesome in Trost, ordering Moblit to escort her back to Calaneth. A part of his mind wondered if it wouldn't have been safer for her to stay hidden with Levi's squad, but he reminded himself that, while that may have been safer for her, it would only hinder the people his lieutenant was actually supposed to be protecting. They hadn't even shared a proper goodbye- they were expecting to see each other again that night.
~o0o~
For as pristine and elegant as the streets of Ehrmich and, at least at one point, Stohess were, even the districts of Wall Sina paled in comparison to Mitras itself, the shining capital of humanity. The streets were paved so smooth that, even with the rudimentary suspension of commercial carriages, there was almost no jostling inside the velvet-lined interior. A gleaming utopia, especially when compared to Trost, but as was the case everywhere within the Walls, there was inequity which bubbled to the surface. Erwin wouldn't have noticed had he not heard the angry shout, pulling him from the depths of his own mind.
Glancing out the window, he turned to make sure he wasn't just seeing things again. Nope, not this time. A group of children, their clothes just a bit too dirty, just a little too ill-fitting to blend in with the well-dressed elites, running into a narrow alleyway. One held a leather bag that must have belonged to the enfeebled man running after them… or trying to. He quickly gave up his pursuit, leaning heavily on the cane he had been ineffectively brandishing.
"Child thieves? Above ground?" He turned to face his companion. "I didn't think Mitras had yet sunk so low…" Nile had been stiff since he first took his seat in the carriage, beside Erwin rather than across from him, surprisingly, his arms crossed firmly over his chest. His jaw tightened even further.
"Unrest is a ripple. Rumors start by Krolva, and the next thing you know, the streets are on fire in the capital. It's not like we can do anything- the holding cells are already overflowing. Pretty sure half those bums just commit misdemeanors on purpose so they can get a bed and two guaranteed meals a day…"
"Well, at least you haven't erected a gallows in the public square. Yet." If Nile clenched his teeth any harder, he was going to shatter them. He turned his head just enough for Erwin to feel the full chill of his glare.
"Is this why you begged me to come with you? To lambaste me? Because you need someone to hold your hand when you face the Assembly? Or do you just want me close by in case you need to toss me under another carriage?"
"Let it go, Nile," Erwin said. "That wasn't a personal attack- it was business. Nothing came of it; you weren't even reprimanded."
"Yeah, 'cause I didn't do anything wrong!"
"Exactly, so why are you complaining?"
His thin nostrils flared, a tic going off in his sunken cheek, but he remained quiet. Erwin took the opportunity to better look at his old friend. It had barely been a month since they'd last seen one another, but it felt like it had been so much longer. Nile's skin looked paler than usual, making the bruised bags under his eyes stand out all the more. Patchy stubble dusted his cheeks, amidst more than a few nicks that still looked fresh. Twisting in his seat, Erwin lightly laid his hand on his friend's elbow.
"I'm sorry, Nile. That was tactless of me. I spend so long deflecting attacks from all sides that I oft lash out against perceived enemies were there are none." Nile's scowl deepened, but some of the stiffness left his shoulders, and when his hazel eyes met Erwin's blue, there was at least a hint of that old warmth in them. They darted down to the coat sleeve dangling limp between them, and for a moment, sympathy flashed across his face.
"Mood swings, paranoia… I think it's about time you retire, Erwin. You're still young enough to die an 'early' death, but you're getting on in years. Your arm's already in the grave."
"It's going to have to wait for the rest of me a little longer."
"Isn't losing a limb grounds for discharge in the Survey Corps?"
"That's a decision for the commander to make."
"And you've already decided." It wasn't a question, so he didn't bother answering. "…because of those delusions you had as a kid?"
"Those 'delusions' are becoming reality." Nile's shoulders slumped even more, his arms loosening, but remaining crossed, a defensive stance, a barrier.
"That's what every raving lunatic says…" They rode in silence for another block, the crystalline windows of the store fronts blinding as they reflected the sun back.
So high up, Mitras must have seemed like a bit of heaven on earth to those who had never left their villages or districts. If one didn't know where these stunning displays of wealth came from, it would be just as easy to believe that they had been created by God, the same as the Walls. So many people simply stopped thinking when they didn't understand something…
"By the way, Nile, Pastor Nick was tortured and killed in our Trost barracks- seemingly by the First Interior MPs. Do you know anything about that?" The answer was writ on his face, a flash of shock and horror that he tried to contain, but couldn't completely.
"No."
"…I see." Erwin leaned against the plush backrest. The tingling in his right arm was coming back, the distinct feeling that his fingers were falling asleep. He instinctively tried flexing his hand, the tensing muscles pulling at the still sore seam of his stump. His discomfort must have shown on his face as Nile peered at him curiously.
"What is it?"
Ah, you wouldn't believe me if I told you…
"Just thinking. It seems they wanted to know Eren's location." He doubted Nile knew anything about Historia, and it was probably for the best if it stayed that way. At least for now. He side eyed the man beside him. "Why do you MPs want Eren so badly? What can possibly be so important that you're willing to kill for him?" The dark-haired man inhaled deeply and sighed.
"You want answers, take it up with the Assembly. We're just… following orders. They don't explain their reasons to us; ours is not to question why, ours is but to do and die."
"You're a commander, though." Nile scoffed.
"That might mean something in the Survey Corps, but not to the Military Police. I'm a figurehead, another step in the bureaucratic process, nothing more. The Interior MPs operate completely outside of us- we have no contact with them." Some of that stiffness was coming back to his jaw, his voice growing darker, harder, more displeased the more he was forced to think about things he'd clearly pushed from his mind.
"As far as I know, no one exercises official control over them, either. They take care of the unsavory tasks that might make respectable people look bad if it got back to them." Such as the elimination of undesirables…"Who the hell knows what they're up to? They're free to do as they please, all with the government's blessing… But you already know all of this. You always pulled this bullshit, Smith; asking questions you already know the answer to so you can look smart… Hey!" He leaned closer, staring hard at the cerulean eyes fixated straight ahead. "You never answered me. What the hell did you call me off duty for? What, were you planning on twisting my arm, getting some information from me? That's not gonna work; I don't know shit." Actually, it seemed he knew more than he realized…
"You wound me, Nile. What makes you think I want anything from you?"
"You always want something. You're always plotting something…" Nile seethed.
"Well, you're right. I do want something. Maybe two somethings. Loathe as I am to admit it, I'm not fully recovered yet, so on the off chance that I pass out, I figured it would be good if someone knew where I was… but more than that, I just wanted to see you again. To be able to talk to you without pomp and circumstance, without any subordinates around… We were like brothers in the Training Corps; did it ever occur to you that maybe I missed you, maybe I wanted to catch up with you?"
"This is your idea of 'catching up'? Talking about murder and Titans? Tch, who am I kidding- of course that's 'catching up' with you…"
"Well, I respect you enough that I want to know your opinion on the matter. So, what do you think?"
"Huh?" Erwin looked over to him, scanning his face before settling his gaze on Nile's dark eyes. Ever since they were teenagers, he'd had guileless eyes. It left one wondering how he'd managed to survive in the cutthroat world of the Military Police, much less thrive. But then again, he did just blindly believe what he was told and parrot it back, a "useful idiot" if ever there was one.
"Will handing Eren Yaeger over to them end this crisis inside the Walls? Will all the problems that arose long before he was born go away when he dies? What do you think?" Just as Erwin could read his friend, so too could Nile read him and knew exactly what he was doing, staring so intently at him. He looked away, annoyance clouding any sincere emotion that might have been gleaned.
"Don't know, don't care. I don't get paid to think. I just do what they tell me." Erwin sighed. As much as things changed, so too did they stay the same.
"Well, I hope they're paying you well, at least. How's Marie? I heard through the grapevine that your third's on the way." The stink eye Nile gave him would have been laughable, if he'd been in any mood to laugh.
"Don't think you're gonna catch me off guard by changing the subject, Smith."
"I'm not changing the subject. I told you; I want to catch up with you. News from the east reaches me rather slowly- for all I know, she's already given birth." Despite his insistence that he would not be caught off guard, it was evident this turn of the conversation had thrown Nile for a loop. He shifted uncomfortably.
"No, not yet. She's only four months along. Why're you asking after Marie? What, have you already gotten bored of your own wife?" Erwin smiled despite himself, a rather sad smile.
"No, nothing of the sort. I'd have more than an arm in that grave if it weren't for Thomasin. She gives so much and I give so little in return… I love her with all my heart, but when I hear that you two are having another child, my mind can't help but wander to stupid things." Like Thomasin recoiling from him. "Like how different my life would have turned out if I'd married Marie instead…" If his life had turned out so differently, would he still have been a bad husband? Would she have eventually told him that he'd be a horrible father as well?
"Yeah, but you didn't." It was hard to tell if that was a hint of anger, or smug condescension in Nile's voice. "You chose the Titans because you're a delusional lunatic."
"And I don't regret that choice in the slightest. I don't think my life would have been nearly as fulfilling otherwise… In fact, if I recall correctly, you were going to choose the Titans, too," Erwin reminded him. "For two years, you talked about joining the Survey Corps with me, and at the last minute, you decided that one woman was worth more than all of humanity." He hadn't intended for his words to be as sharp as they were, but apparently Nile did as he didn't even flinch. His dark eyes narrowed.
"Yeah… yeah, that's right. That's why everyone in the 89th who went with you is dead and I'm still alive with a loving wife and family. I'm just the worst piece of shit in the world- the audacity of me for being sane enough to not want to die at nineteen. I betrayed you- I betrayed all of you, and all of humanity,and I'd do it again in a heartbeat. I don't regret anything; my daughters mean the world to me! I know what I want in life, and I'm happy with it!"
I know what I want, and I've never denied it…
"…I envy you, Nile…" The other man's thin chest rose and fell rapidly as he struggled to calm himself.
"What?" Leaning his head back, Erwin closed his eyes.
"When I was younger, I thought you were a coward. I thought everyone was a coward, that the Walls were populated with fools too stupid to acknowledge their own ignorance. Nothing within this cage could possibly be more important than what potentially laid outside it. But the older I got, the more I realized that I was the greatest fool of them all. There are so many wonderful things to be found within the Walls. Friends…"
…clumps of Cecile's strawberry-blonde hair glued to the brick with her blood…
"Family…"
…Horace blinking away tears as he offered one final salute…
"…love…"
…blood that never fully washed out staining the Wings of Freedom, settled heavily in his breast pocket, a lead weight over his heart… It wasn't worth it to bring back what was left…
"…if that's really how you feel, then why don't you retire? You're crippled- no one will think less of you for it. You're married now, Erwin; retire, settle down, start a family- experience those things while you still have a chance!" He shook his head, eyes still closed. "Why not!?"
"Because someone has to protect those things…"
Excuse me, sir…
"Someone has to ensure that all the sacrifices thus far haven't been for naught."
"And that 'someone' has to be you?"
But… how do we know for sure that there aren't humans living somewhere far away from the Walls…?
Bright blue eyes snapped open.
"Who else but me? Who else would risk everything to keep moving forward? You? Would you risk losing your cushy job, your comfortable life, for humanity?"
"My comfortable life? Sure. My family's? Not a chance in hell." Erwin's lips curled into what he intended to be a sympathetic smile, but what looked more like a grimace.
"I hope you understand that protecting your position and protecting your family aren't the same thing." That caught Nile's attention.
"What?"
"The world is quickly changing, Nile, and not necessarily for the better. Life or death… hope or despair… Who makes that choice? And when they do, do you simply follow orders… or do you think for yourself?" Nile inhaled deeply, but his voice was little more than a breath.
"…what the hell are you plotting, Erwin?"
"You know me- just another gamble. It's all I'm good at." The horses slowed their trot and the carriage rolled to a halt. The chancellery loomed before them, the white marble facade gleaming so brightly in the summer sun that it almost hurt to look upon. Erwin opened the carriage door and set his foot on the step, but turned, leaning across the seat to clap a hand on Nile's shoulder. "You just keep doing your job. I wanted to give you a warning, that's all." The other man blanched.
"A warning for what?"
"Give my love to Marie."
"Erwin! A warning for what?!" Hopping down, he closed the door- making sure his coat sleeve wasn't caught in it- and pounded on it, the coachman cracking his whip to spur the horses back into a light trot.
Erwin watched the carriage until it was about a block and a half away, finally turning back to face the chancellery. His remaining fingers clenched tightly. He had precious little hope left for the royal government, but as he had told Nile, the world within the Walls was changing. Perhaps, just this once, the Assembly would prove him wrong. Rolling his shoulders to relax them, he began his ascension of the stairs, his sleeve flapping behind him like a war banner.
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Erwin laid his hand against the window as he watched Hange and Moblit ride into the night, the glass cool against his heated palm. The Military Police were long gone by the time they arrived, lucky for both regiments- Hange would have thrown punches at the officers tearing up their "lab", and they'd have had no qualms about clapping his one remaining section commander in irons. They'd left no stone unturned, going through all the drawers in both his office and bedroom, even looking under the mattress. Of course, his important letters- the incriminating ones and the ones from Thomasin both- were in Calaneth now. He'd received an oddly worded letter a few days ago…
Had to go back to work earlier than expected, sweetie. Didn't have time to stop at the tailor, so I brought some of your favorite shirts to work on them at home. The ones you used to ask me to mend back in Shiganshina.
Before it came, he'd first assumed the Interior MPs had gotten into his office when they showed up to clean up the evidence they'd left behind in Pastor Nick's room, but then he realized that MPs would not be so careful to leave everything like they'd found it. She'd clearly already looked through his drawers; she would know he was paranoid enough to use false bottoms. Even if- when- the MPs went to interrogate her, he was confident they wouldn't find anything. She had a slyness about her that could put his own shrewd mind to shame. God, he wished they would just leave her alone…
It was a small blessing that Nile himself had come to oversee the seizure; Erwin had a feeling the Military Police wouldn't have been nearly as respectful with his belongings if a commander wasn't breathing down their neck, and Nile did, too. He wasn't paying any attention to the Scouts and their offended protests, no; his gaze was cold and sharp and focused entirely on the MPs, occasionally barking at them to be more careful, or treat what they were throwing into their wagons with a bit more respect. Erwin wondered if he was worried about the opinions of the civilians who'd gathered at the gate to watch the forfeiture- the southern MPs certainly weren't, and neither was Commander Jones.
Nile was signing a list handed to him by one of the officers, already squinting as the shadows in the room quickly grew longer. Erwin set a lantern on the table, trying to find where they'd tossed his matches.
"That's the last of it. If you want any of your personal effects returned, ask for them later."
"No, that's fine… actually, there is one thing I'd like returned quickly, if you would. A drawing of Thomasin. It's framed." Nile's hard gaze softened, sentimentality pushing aside his sense of duty. He had a portrait of Marie in his office, too, smiling and even more beautiful with age.
"As soon as we inspect it, I'll have someone bring it back to you."
"Thank you, Nile."
He finally found the matches, balancing the box against his chest to slide it open, take out a match, and close it back. He had to hold the box with his chin to strike it; it was awkward, but he'd been practicing for days and had become quite adept at the process. He was fully aware of just how pathetic he looked, however, which was why he felt no offense when Nile stomped over, snatched both the box and match from him, and lit the wick far quicker than he would have been able to.
"Why the hell can't you ever just ask for help…?"
"It's not in my nature."
"No, your nature is being self-absorbed and contrary, to the detriment of everyone around you."
"Why so cold, Nile?" The dark-haired man flung the matchbox back at him. It bounced off his chest and landed on the table.
"I wonder. Maybe it's because every time I've seen you as of late, nothing but trouble has followed."
"Just like old times…" Erwin smiled, but Nile remained icy.
"You know your actions don't just affect you, right? Your soldiers are the ones who are going to pay the price for whatever harebrained scheme you're cooking up."
"They always have been. They choose to follow me."
"What about Thomasin- did she choose to be involved in any of this crap? Because she's going to be." That was what he'd been fearing, and Nile confirmed it. His jaw tightened.
"Yes. She chose it when she said 'I do' and took my name."
"And that doesn't bother you? The consequences you bring upon the humanity you've sworn to protect?" Consequences… Mike's patch was still in his jacket's breast pocket, a constant reminder…
"No. I don't have time for regrets." Nile shook his head sadly.
"Were you always this crazy? I feel like I would have noticed if you were always this crazy…"
It had been hours since Nile left, but that question still rolled around in Erwin's mind. If he were being honest, he'd say "no". He had been more crazy in his youth. Back then, he was as zealous about his father's theories as the Wallists were for their religion. When his aunt held him by the shoulders, begging him not to leave, when Thomasin reminded him that he was courting death, when Marie forced him to admit that a dead man's theories meant more to him than a living woman's love with tears in her eyes, he had thought them all weak.
Craven.
Fools who deserved their lives as cattle. Would he die to prove his father right? Yes, and proudly. Nowadays, he was at the very least sane enough to be ashamed of that. To be disgusted with himself for every death he glorified. To keep his head down, his mouth shut. He had no intention of changing, of course, no intention of denying his gospel, but he knew there was something wrong with him. A knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts.
"Pardon, sir, but the commander of the Garrison has just arrived. He's asking to speak with you." Pixis? Hopefully, he was here regarding the letter he'd sent.
"Send him in." The door opened, one of the younger officers saluting as the aging commander walked past him, his jacket over one arm, a bottle of expensive-looking whiskey in hand. He closed the door behind him and held up the bottle.
"I figured it would be rude to drop by so late empty handed, so I come bearing gifts."
"I appreciate that, Commander, but I'm afraid I can't drink."
"Oh pish, you've been up and about for nearly a month now- I think you deserve a pick-me-up." Erwin headed over to the right-hand cabinet where he'd once kept his own paltry collection of alcohol- all of it confiscated, hidden away somewhere it couldn't tempt him again. He grabbed a tumbler, offering it to the older man.
"I'd agree with you, but my wife will geld me if she knows I'm drinking again, considering that your last 'pick-me-up' nearly killed me. And she will know." Pixis smirked as he poured himself a double.
"Whipped already, Erwin? What a shame."
"No, not whipped. Thomasin has spent almost half her life working with medicine in some capacity, and the other half working with alcohol. Pain killers and booze aren't supposed to mix- a fact I was quick to forget about. She knows far more about their effects on the human condition than I do, and I think it prudent to defer to someone more knowledgeable than I." She'd warned him, after all, and what did not listening get him? The worst hangover of his life.
"Well, you aren't wrong." The older man sat heavily in the chair offered to him. "Being aware of your own ignorance is a type of wisdom in its own right. God knows I could fill several encyclopedias with all the things I don't know. I suppose that's why I'm here. I'm sure the Assembly will have their own explanation for why your barracks were ransacked, but I'd like to get your take on it first." Well, Pixis wanted to get both sides of the story. That was better than nothing.
Pulling the other chair closer with his foot, Erwin sat across from the other man, leaning on the armrest as he recounted his last meeting with the Assembly. It was the devil's luck that at least a few of the Garrison soldiers who'd joined the rescue operation survived; otherwise, there would be no impartial witnesses. The Military Police would say whatever those paying their salary wanted them to say, and everyone would insist that the Scouts were simply parroting whatever he told them. The Garrison, however, had no stake in this game.
They would know the Assembly was lying when they publicly claimed the "breach" in Wall Rose was a fabrication concocted by the Survey Corps to try and cement their hold on Eren's power. Whether or not they would go against that narrative was another question entirely, but they would know- he even gave Pixis the names of soldiers who had ridden into Wall Maria with him so he could get their statements directly. With every word he spoke, the older man's golden eyes darkened, but he remained silent throughout, listening, thinking. He stiffened when Erwin mentioned the Interior MPs they were questioning, but said nothing.
"The monarchy has proven it will do anything within its power to bring Eren and Historia under their control, with no consideration for the security of the people. We cannot permit them to keep up this abuse. We cannot allow this farce to continue as we count down the days to humanity's extinction. The only way for humanity to survive is if we use our strength to overthrow the royal government and seize control ourselves." Pixis inhaled deeply and heaved a heavy sigh, sinking further into his seat.
"…so. Human beings will finally spill each other's blood inside these cramped walls…" Erwin's jaw clenched.
"Humans have been spilling one another's blood inside these walls, and to pretend otherwise is willful ignorance. The only difference now will be whose blood is being spilled, and the reason for it." He met the other man's gaze, his own cold, unblinking, until Pixis sighed again, reaching up to rub his temples with a gaunt hand, averting his eyes.
"…I knew this would happen one day… It's been a hundred and seven years since we fled behind these walls, locking the door and throwing away the key… But to believe that humanity could be contained within this tiny cage indefinitely is madness. Peace was nice while it lasted, but all things must come to an end and I knew if I hadn't croaked when it did, I too might have to turn my sword on my king…" He lowered his hand. "This doesn't surprise you."
"I like to think I'm a good judge of character." Pixis grinned but there was no humor in it, and it quickly slipped from his face. His brows furrowed, the flickering lantern carving the lines in his face even deeper.
"Indeed, I am the man you take me for, but that man is nothing more than an aging soldier who watches the Walls. I can't lead my people into battle against other humans. I don't have that right." Erwin's own grin felt like a grimace. For as old as Pixis was, there was still a naivete to him. The kind of delicate sensibilities that came from being sheltered. Perhaps if he'd lived a charmed life, untouched by the cruelty of the world, if he stood back on the Walls, far away from combat and only heard reports of his soldiers dying, he would view himself as some kind of pacifist, too.
"Perhaps not. But you do have the right to judge my ability to do so. It's never been a Commander of the Garrison leading people into battle. That burden has always fallen onto the shoulders of the Commander of the Survey Corps." Pixis straightened.
"Oh. So that's why you're speaking so candidly. Very well; convince me and I'll forfeit my ranks and join the Survey Corps as a recruit under your command. I'll do any miserable job you task me with." His eyes narrowed, chips of gold that reflected no warmth from the lantern. "But if I deem this some misguided power grab, I will be your greatest enemy. I will stand against you as the head of the Garrison and send you to the gallows."
"The southern Garrison."
"You think the other branches would go along with your scheming, Erwin?"
"I think only a fool reveals their hand so early. Let's put a pin in the other branches for now and focus on you. You'd have me executed if I don't live up to your moral standards. A tall order, butI'm prepared for that." His blasé attitude seemed to catch the other man off guard.
"And what of your wife? Is she also prepared to be a widow so quickly after being wed?" Any other man might falter, might hesitate if confronted with such a thing.
"We joined the Scouts together. She's been waiting for me to die for years; Thomasin knows the man she married…" She'd known from the beginning how selfish and stupid he could be. What a disappointment he was. His assurance clearly didn't sit well with Pixis, but it drove home how desperately serious he was. He didn't press the matter.
"In that case, what's your plan, Erwin? Seize the capital by force? Your numbers are small, but the Scouts are the most skilled soldiers within these walls, regardless of what the Military Police would like to think. After all these years of killing Titans, I'm sure it would be child's play to scale Wall Sina, cut your way through the chancellery and take the King's head… but then what? After you've killed the King, and the Assembly, and all the members of the old regime… then what do you do? Do you think the people will cheer and throw a parade for their new overlords?"
"I think you've thought about this nearly as much as I have."
"I have," Pixis sighed. "Conditions within the Walls are downright nightmarish in places. Space is limited, unemployment is constantly on the rise, beaten only by the rate of taxes… Four years ago, the Royal Government killed twenty percent of the population- only the lowest class citizens, of course… and yet, despite all this, there have been minimal riots. We still have peace. Because the King, the Assembly, the nobles and merchants and commoners alike all share a common fate- they're all trapped. And causing conflict in this world would destroy it."
"…is that what you think? That the only thing stopping all-out war from breaking out is a fear of mutually-assured destruction?"
"I take it you have a different theory."
"I'll tell you later. Please, continue." His interruption seemed to have thrown Pixis for a loop, but he quickly regained his thoughts.
"What else is there to say? The royal bloodline acts as a symbol of human prosperity. The Crown ruled the world even before it ended- that exalted line is what sustains the people's hearts. If you were to butcher that symbol of prosperity and start a war- now of all times- do you honestly think the surviving commoners would bow down to you? That they would welcome you as a liberator? And even if they did, the nobles would never accept you. The gun-owning aristocracy would join forces with the surviving Military Police and start a rebellion the moment you announced your rule." Erwin waited to ensure he was finished. And waited. And waited. When he finally spoke, his voice was low.
"I might be mistaken, but I hear you hail from a city near Yarkle."
"Yes, that's right. Eisenbourn. Just outside Wall Sina." Erwin nodded.
"I'm from Krolva myself. We were practically neighbors, even though I'd never set foot even that close to Wall Sina until I joined the Scouts. I never went south of Wall Rose, either, before then. My wife is from Quinta; a few hours away by ferry, and it never crossed my mind to visit. I traveled through Shiganshina every other month for expeditions, but I never actually walked its streets until Thomasin moved there and I had a reason to." He looked up, blue eyes meeting gold. "How often do you walk through Trost, Commander? Not take a carriage from one base to another, but walk the streets, look around?"
"Not often," the older man sighed, sounding as old as he looked. "The sight of our beautiful district in ruins ages me every time I see it. I spend most of my days indoors as of late; paperwork will be the death of me…"
"Well, how often do you walk through Calaneth? Or Krolva? How often did you visit Shiganshina before the fall? Have you ever walked around the Underground?"
"…what are you getting at, Erwin?"
"You made a lot of claims about what the common people think and feel, and their reasons for doing things… or not doing things, as the case may be. And I'm wondering, did you get these opinions from the common people? Or are you supplanting your own reasons onto them?" He leaned forward in his seat, resting his arm on his knee.
"Because let me tell you something, Commander Pixis; starving people don't care who's wearing the crown. To all the fathers who can't provide for their families, and all the mothers watching their children waste away, and to all the denizens in the Underground who live and die without ever feeling the warmth of the sun on their skin… the King isn't a symbol of anything.
He's a theoretical concept, a name they've heard once or twice. He's the reason shops hang up green and yellow streamers every year, but he's also the reason they can't afford bread, the reason they can't hunt, the reason they aren't allowed up in the fresh air. Opportunistic merchants and nobles don't care who's sitting on that throne- they care about their lands and holdings. People are inherently selfish; it's human nature. People care nothing about war, so long as they're left in peace." Beneath his mustache, Pixis' lips thinned into a hard line, his gaze cold.
"So you intend to bring about a bloody war and hope the people are too apathetic to care?"
"I assume they'll remain apathetic regardless of what happens; like you said, the state-sanctioned murder of twenty percent of the population didn't rile them up. It's hard to think about injustice and starting riots when you're starving to death. We do intend to replace the king, and weed out the current regime, but I have no intention of starting a war, bloody or otherwise. I dedicated my heart to protecting humanity, not destroying it." Perhaps it was something in his tone, self-assured yet nonchalant, that made Pixis sit a bit straighter, something… hopeful in his eyes.
"Is that so? By all means, go on; tell me how you plan to bring about this bloodless coup." Erwin exhaled sharply.
"Well, the thing is, we're still missing the most important piece of this puzzle. And if we're wrong about it- if I'm wrong- well, let's just say the consolation prize for a failed coup is a long drop and a short stop." That hope was extinguished, replaced by exasperation.
"By the Walls… Another gamble, Erwin?" He couldn't help but laugh softly.
"Seems like I may be a betting man 'til the end. I'm just waiting for the confirmation to come. It probably won't be long, now." He paused, thinking long and hard about his next words. Was he really willing to dredge up those old memories, and for what? For the chance to take on even more work, more risks, that all might amount to nothing?
Excuse me, sir…
"Would you care to listen to a story from my childhood until it arrives?" That sparked his interest. Erwin pressed his palm flat against his thigh to keep his hand from trembling. "My father was a teacher…"
The classroom was a hive of discord, children laughing, screaming, talking over one another so loudly it was hard to believe any learning had ever taken place there. It was early in the morning, the sun barely strong enough to illuminate the motes of dust. Erwin was turned around in his seat, leaning on the desk behind him, a tightly folded square of paper balanced on its tip by one finger as he readied his other hand to flick it.
Across from him, David Lijewski held his hands out, thumbs touching, pointer fingers up, a clear goal to aim for. Closing one eye for better accuracy, Erwin lined up his shot and flicked the paper. It missed by a meter, somehow flying off to the right and hitting Robin Lancaster in the back of the head, catching in her bright red hair. To hear her shriek, you'd think he'd thrown a knife at her. David laughed, and as Robin snatched the paper from her braids and hurled it back at Erwin, the other boy's laughter turned to raucous howls. She didn't miss, striking him right between the eyebrows, an equally clear goal.
"You suck, Erwin!"
"No, I don't!"
"Yes, you do! You're blind as a bat. You need glasses."
"You moved your hands!"
"No, I didn't!"
The door opened, and at once, students were scrambling to get back in their seats. Mr. Smith didn't get angry at the sight of the chaos, or call anyone to the front of the class to smack their knuckles with a switch like some teachers did. He didn't even yell- he never raised his voice.
"Everyone, please be quiet, now." That was all it took for the din to calm, the only sounds those of rustle clothes as the children made themselves comfortable, and the crinkle of paper as their teacher unrolled the large diagram he was carrying, pinning it to the top of the blackboard. Erwin leaned forward in his seat. He knew what that was; his father had shown it to him a long time ago. With it completely unfurled, some of the other kids leaned forward to better see as well. It was a painting- well, a copy of one- showing the migration of humanity. Opening a book with a yellow cover, Mr. Smith turned to face the class.
"Today, we're going to learn how humanity came to live behind the Walls."
As his father spoke, Erwin's mind began to wander. He knew all this; he'd already looked through the book his father was reading from. He wasn't supposed to- he wasn't supposed to mess with any of the things in his father's study, but he liked looking at the pictures- especially in those "forbidden" books- and as he got older and learned what more and more of those long words meant, he found himself growing more interested in the text. Maybe that was why he started reading the tiny words written around the corners of the painting.
People fleeing their homes due to the appearance of the Titans.
Unable to match the overwhelming force of the Titans, humanity was forced to sail to a new world…
When he was little, his father told him a story about something called the "Oh-Shen", the biggest lake imaginable that went on forever and ever… But there had to be land on the other side of any lake- that's how lakes worked, right? And… if people sailed to a "new" world, that meant there was an "old" world- right? An "old" world and a "new" world with a giant lake separating them… He wondered if Titans could swim. They couldn't climb, at least not the Walls… Maybe the other side of the "Oh-Shen" had walls, too… Maybe… maybe…
"Sir?" He quickly raised his hand like he was supposed to. "Excuse me, sir." His father paused, his hand still poised over the chalkboard.
"Yes, Erwin?" He stood.
"Everyone says humanity is extinct except for us… but… how can we be sure that there aren't other humans living somewhere far away from the Walls?" His voice hung in the room for a moment, but then the snickers started.
"That's heretic talk!"
"Weirdo."
"You're so dumb!"
"No, I'm not!"
"Everyone, settle down. That's enough." Even though the children were all louder than him, Mr. Smith's voice held a gravitas that everyone heard, no matter how softly he spoke. "To answer your question, Erwin, we know because the history books say so. Everything about humanity is written, and if other people were still alive, that would have been written about, too."
"Yeah, it's in the books!"
"Everyone knows that!"
Erwin sat back down and didn't speak or raise his hand for the rest of the day. He barely heard any of the lesson, barely noticed the school bell ringing or the other kids riling up again as they headed home or to the park or to the lake… He stared at his desk, the pine surface indented from years of pencils bearing down on it.
"Erwin, what are you still doing here? Class is over." He didn't look up. "Why don't you go play with your friends?"
"Don't wanna…" Those weren't his friends. Friends wouldn't call him dumb for asking a question. His father sighed. He could hear him approaching, his footsteps heavy in the empty classroom. He groaned softly as he sat opposite his son, the tiny gradeschooler-sized desks so small that his long legs bent awkwardly. He leaned on the desk, and from the corner of his eye, Erwin noticed the sunlight reflecting on the golden hairs on his father's arm. He wondered when he'd grow hair on his arms.
"What's wrong, Erwin?" He'd been good about holding back all day, but as soon as his father asked him directly, his eyes welled up, his nose running instantly.
"I'm not dumb… I'm not a heretic…" he whimpered.
"No. No, you're not." Propping himself up on his elbow, Mr. Smith reached out and stroked his son's hair, paler and finer than his own, inherited from his mother. "You're curious. Being curious used to be considered a good thing, not so long ago. Now, it gets you labeled a heretic. Everything different is heretical these days…" He didn't understand why his father sounded so sad. All he knew was that he didn't like it.
"I'm sorry, dad! I won't be a heretic! I won't ask questions anymore!" Something flashed in the older man's eyes, the same icy blue as his son's.
"Don't ever say that, Erwin. Don't even think it. Asking questions is good- being different is good. If you don't understand something, don't just accept that and forget about it; keep asking questions until you do. Do you hear me?" His father cupped his cheeks with hands so big and strong that it didn't seem possible that they could be so gentle in brushing away the tears that spilled every time he blinked. "You are a smart, curious boy- don't ever let anyone try to convince you that's a bad thing." Erwin sniffled loudly, wiping his nose on his sleeve.
"Then… how do you know the books are right?"
"What?"
"You said we know there aren't anymore humans because the books say so, but… what if the people writing the books don't know, either? Only the Scouts can go outside the Walls; how can anyone else write books about what's out there?" Mr. Smith inhaled deeply, getting to his feet, and instantly, Erwin wished he hadn't said anything. At least, he did until his father placed a shiny Rose coin on the desk in front of him.
"I still have to clean up here. Why don't you get a jelly roll from Mrs. Dewitt's bakery, and we can finish talking about this when I get home?"
"Okay!"
He grabbed the coin and jumped to his feet, taking a moment to squeeze his father's legs in as tight a hug as his eight-year old arms could muster. His emotions were mercurial; it didn't take much to upset him, but neither did it take much to cheer him back up.
O~0~O
The stove damper was closed, but the cinders within it still cracked, as did the tallow candle on the table. It was late- his father hadn't gotten home until nearly ten, going straight to his study and coming back out with his arms filled with books. Not just the flimsy, mass produced books he brought with him to school, but big books, thick books- old books, the kind with leather bindings and pages made from sheepskin. Books he didn't recognize from the shelves. Erwin was so enchanted by those books that he pretended he wasn't sleepy, focusing on everything his father said more intently than he ever did in class.
"Most people wouldn't question something written in a book, especially not a textbook. If it's put in writing- especially by order of the King himself- people take it as law. But here's the thing, Erwin- people lie on paper just like they lie with their mouths." He opened two books, one the textbook he had been reading from in class, and the other, what seemed to be a copy of the exact same book, only older, its cover torn, its pages frayed and eaten up in places. They were both opened to the same page, and he turned them around for his son to see. "Read these two books aloud, Erwin. This page-" he pointed to the newer book, "-and this page." He pointed to the same passage in the older book. Erwin leaned forward to better see. His eyes were starting to hurt, both from the smoking candle and from being so tired, but he could still read.
" 'At that time, most of humanity had been anni- an-ni-hil...ated'."
"Very good," his father smiled at him, before tapping on the other page. "Now read this."
" 'At that time, most of humanity had been annihilated, but the maj-'" He frowned, looking back at the other page. It was the same passage- he hadn't skipped any words, but-
"Keep reading."
" '-but the maj-or-ity of this was at the hands of their… fellow… humans'… Why do they say different things?"
"Because this book-" Mr. Smith pointed to the older copy, "-is from when I was a little boy. This is what my teacher taught me. Both of these books were published and distributed by the royal government, but for some reason, they decided that you shouldn't learn the same history I learned. There are entire sections from this book missing from the book I was given to teach with. I can only imagine how much that first book is missing- that's not the first publication of it. There's a version that's even older… at least there was. A long time ago, when I was even younger than you, the Military Police came to my village and went into everyone's homes, taking away all the books the government deemed 'incorrect'… at least, the ones that weren't hidden well enough."
"But why?!" In contrast to his son's rising voice, he lowered his own.
"I don't know, Erwin. But I think it's because there were things in those books we aren't supposed to remember. We don't remember a lot of things… Do you recall when humanity first settled behind the Walls?"
"Uh huh! Eighty two years ago!"
"That's exactly right. Eighty two years ago, my parents- your grandparents- were about your age. They came from the world outside the Walls." Erwin could feel the excitement swelling inside him like something physical.
"What was it like!? Was it big? Did they live in a city? Did they cross the 'Oh-Shen'?!" His father's expression remained mild, but something darkened in his eyes.
"I don't know, Erwin. They never told me, so I can't tell you. And before you ask 'why not', this I do know. It's because they didn't know. That always bothered them… and me. They remembered everything else about their childhood, but not that. And they didn't know, becauseif they knew, I know with absolute certainty that they would have told me. There is no way my father, who risked his life hiding books from the MPs, wouldn't have told me where he was born. Not just them, but so many grandparents and great grandparents. No parent wouldn't pass on their knowledge to their children, even if the royal government forbade it. That's something they can't control… at least, it's something they shouldn't be able to control." Mr. Smith leaned closer, the candle flame making the lenses of his glasses look like gold, pale blue irises flickering behind them.
"I believe that there are other humans living far away from these walls, Erwin. Do you remember how big I told you the world is?" He nodded, unable to breathe, unable to think from his wonderment. "There are places within the Walls themselves that we haven't explored, deep in the mountains and forests and caves… How could we have scoured every inch of the world to be sure humanity was wiped out when we can't scour every inch of what little territory we have? I am certain that there are other people out there… And when our families escaped here, across the ocean, the king at the time, Karl Fritz, took those memories away from them. Memories of other people, other places, other languages… Because when people know different things, they think different things. And if too many people think different things, things like 'if other people can survive outside the Walls, so can we. Maybe we don't need to hide behind them, living like cattle until we die', the king won't be able to stop them all. He won't be able to rule them all. They might challenge him." His already soft voice grew even quieter; he was whispering to himself, but Erwin strained his ears to hear anyway. "What's a god without omnipotence…?"
"What-" he yawned widely. "What's 'om-nip-o-tance'?" Mr. Smith blinked hard, as though he had forgotten his son was there.
"Oh. It's well past your bedtime… You know what; I'll tell you tomorrow."
"But I wanna know now…!" he whined.
"No, I'll tell you tomorrow. You'll sleep better if you have something to look forward to."
"You promise?"
"I promise, but only if you promise to go to sleep right away. No trying to read tonight; your eyes are going to go bad if you keep squinting in the dark."
"Okay…"
O~0~O
Erwin knew he wasn't dumb. He wasn't a heretic. He had proof now. So, naturally, the first thing he did was seek out the kids who had mocked him, to rub their faces in the fact that they were wrong.
"There are humans living far away from the Walls! My dad told me so."
"Nuh uh! You're lying, Erwin."
"No, I'm not! He told me!"
"Why didn't he tell the rest of us, then?"
" 'cause you're too stupid to understand. You just believe any dumb thing anyone writes in a book."
Watching their faces turn red with anger had been so vilifying… He told the other kids from class, too, of course. The ones who hadn't laughed, the other quiet children who liked reading as much as he did. They were curious too, right? But for some reason, they didn't get as excited as him. Even if they didn't call him a liar to his face, he could see in the way they looked away from him that they didn't believe him.
"It's true! I'm telling the truth! My dad said so!"
"Well… how does he know?"
"Huh?"
"Mr. Smith isn't a Scout- he never went outside the Walls, so how can he know?"
"Well- He-"
"Good morning!" Erwin was saved from scrambling together an answer by a deep voice he'd never heard before. Looking away from Dominic Scott, he noticed two grown ups approaching. They wore military uniforms, and carried guns. The one with black hair smiled at him, and he instinctively took a step back. "Hello there. What's your name?" He shook his head.
"I'm not supposed to talk to strangers." The other man, with brown hair, scoffed and frowned, but his friend nodded understandingly.
"That's smart. But you can talk to me. You see this patch?" He pointed at the silver and green unicorn embroidered on his pocket. Erwin nodded. "Do you know what this means?"
"You're a Military Policeman."
"That's right. We protect the King's peace." Dominic shuffled uneasily.
"Um… I'm gonna go home now, Erwin-" He'd not taken two steps before the dark-haired MP grabbed his shoulder, keeping him in place. The genial smile never left his lips.
"You don't have to leave. We'll be out of your hair in a second. I just want to ask some questions." He turned his attention back to the blonde boy. "Your name is Erwin, right?"
"Uh huh."
"You're Thomas Smith's son?"
"Uh huh." The MP bent slightly, trying to make himself seem less imposing, but he was so tall that he still towered over Erwin.
"I hear that your father told you something that he didn't tell the rest of the class. Can you tell me what that was?"
"He said the King doesn't want us to remember that there are other humans living far away from the Walls, so he made everyone forget." The MP was still smiling, but there was something in his eyes that scared him. It lasted only a moment, however, and the tall man stood up straight again, letting go of Dominic and patting Erwin on the head.
"Thank you, son. That's what I thought… Do you know where your father is right now?"
"At Mrs. Dewitt's bakery. We're out of bread." From the corner of his eye, he noticed the other MP writing something down, but didn't think much of it.
"Alright. Well, you and your friend have a good day, Erwin." As soon as he rejoined the other man, the dark-haired MP began whispering to him, his voice too quiet to make out any words.
"I hope Mr. Smith doesn't get in trouble…" Dominic said quietly.
"Why would he get in trouble?"
"Maybe teachers aren't s'pposed to say things that aren't in the books. Like, if you write something that wasn't in the book on a test, you get a bad grade." Erwin frowned.
"He's a grown up- grown ups don't get grades."
"Maybe they do! Maybe he flunked his teacher test and the MPs are coming to take him to detention!"
"That's stupid- grownups don't get detention…" He was so confident when he said it at the time, but that night, as the house grew darker and darker, he began to have doubts.
Maybe… maybe teachers did get grades, and his father got a bad grade because he didn't teach the whole class; everyone always accused Erwin of being the teacher's pet anyway… Maybe he shouldn't have bragged so much to Marc Chambers… maybe he shouldn't have called Sara Wright "stupid"… but… maybe he was just overreacting.
Yeah, that was it. His father had come home late before; sometimes, he stayed out with his own friends, and they went to pubs to talk about grownup things. That was it. The door was going to open at any moment, and his father was going to walk in with the bread he went out to buy (and maybe a sweet treat, too?), his cheeks a bit red but a wide smile on his face, and he was going to apologize for staying out so late. That was what was going to happen.
The book open on his lap went ignored- he wanted to read, but he couldn't focus on the words. Maybe his father fell down and broke his leg and had to go to a doctor. Or maybe someone snuck up on him and hit him in the head and took his money. Or maybe a runaway carriage hit him…! Erwin stayed on the couch, staring at the door until the candle flame began to sputter and die, the holder almost overflowing with melted tallow. The spare candles were in the cabinet above the sink. He could climb up and get a new one, but the last time he did that was the only time his father had ever yelled at him and even though he'd apologized profusely and explained that he only got mad because he was worried, Erwin couldn't bring himself to climb back onto the sink since then. He would rather sit in the dark.
He wasn't scared of the dark, but for some reason, the house seemed bigger without the flickering light. Scarier. His heart hammered in his chest, and no matter how hard he breathed, he still felt breathless. Something crashed down the street, and he flung the book away, tearing off down the hall, his bare feet sure even in the near absolute darkness, and diving into his father's bed. Pulling the covers over his head, he curled into a tight ball, doing nothing to stop the tears rolling down his cheeks.
"Dad, where are you? Come home…"
He didn't know when he fell asleep, he only remembered waking up to the sound of the front door opening and footsteps echoing in the hall. Kicking the covers off, Erwin jumped off the bed, mentally vowing that he would never, ever let his father go anywhere without him ever again.
"Dad! Dad!" He was running so fast that he didn't even realize the legs he ran into were draped in a long green skirt, instead of the brown slacks his father had worn the day before. The hand that reached out to keep him from falling didn't belong to his father, either, too small and delicate. "Aunt Gemma? Wh… why are you here…?" His father's sister wasn't a stranger by any means- she usually came to visit two or three times a year, always bearing gifts for the winter solstice and his birthday… but it was summer now. She was sniffling, and her pale blue eyes, just like his, just like his father's, were red and swollen.
"Erwin, baby, let's go sit down. I need to tell you something…"
The house seemed so quiet, so big suddenly, and he just couldn't sit still, rocking on the couch as he waited for his aunt to stop sniffling and dabbing her eyes with her handkerchief. He couldn't stand the silence.
"Aunt Gemma, is dad okay? When's he coming home?" He had to come home soon. School was tomorrow, and even when they split up before class so he could play with the other kids and his father could talk to the other teachers, they always walked to school together. His aunt took his hands in both of hers. Even though they weren't as big as his father's, they were still much larger than his own.
"Baby, I'm-" Her voice broke, and she swallowed. "I'm sorry to tell you this, but… your daddy isn't coming home. He- he was- he's with your mama now. Do you understand?"
No… no, he didn't understand. He didn't really remember his mother all that well, but he remembered that she was always in bed because she couldn't stand up for very long, and had to drink nasty-smelling medicine all the time, and that his father spent most of his time when he wasn't cooking or cleaning or grading papers sitting next to her, holding her hand. And then she died. People died when they were old, or sick. His father wasn't sick- he was the one who took care of Erwin when he got sick! And… maybe he was old, but… all grown ups were old! People's grandparents were way older than him, and they were still alive, so no, he DIDN'T understand!
"No… you're lying."
"I wish I was-"
"You're lying! Where is he?! I wanna see him!" Before he could work himself up any more, his aunt leaned over, wrapping her arms around him. She smelled like fancy powder, and it made his eyes burn even more than the tears in them.
"I don't know about that, baby… There was… an accident out by Oldhill… Some awful, awful person robbed him and…" Erwin wasn't listening to her. Oldhill was far to the north of the district, almost by Yarkle- he'd had only seen it on maps. His father never went that far- there was no reason to… A chill crept into his lungs, taking his breath away.
"…what's gonna happen to me? Am I gonna have to go live somewhere else?" He didn't know anywhere else; he'd only ever gone as far as the McClasky farm in Wall Maria. His aunt squeezed him tighter.
"No, baby, of course not. You're not going anywhere." She pulled back to look at him. Her face was all blotchy, her nose red from rubbing it so much. Even with the tears shining in her eyes, her gaze was steady. "I'm going to move down to Krolva to take care of you, at least until you're done with your schooling." School… that's right…
"…are you gonna be our teacher, too…?"
"Oh… no, baby. I- I think your class is going to get another teacher." For some reason, that was what set him off.
"I don't WANT another teacher! I want my DAD!"
"I know, Erwin, I know… I want him back, too… But he's in a better place, now…"
Except he wasn't in a better place. He was in a wooden box, in the dirt, inside the Walls. Erwin stared at the freshly dug soil, ignoring how hot his suit was and how his shoes pinched his toes. His mother's tombstone was right next to his father's- "Eliza Smith Beloved Wife and Mother"- but honestly, he didn't even remember attending her funeral. Maybe he didn't- maybe he'd stayed home with one of their neighbors, because he definitely remembered seeing his father leaning heavily on his aunt when they walked through the door together, both of them wearing black.
His aunt was leaning against the cemetery gates. She didn't have another person to lean on. She had started crying so loudly when they lowered the casket into the ground that the priest led her off to calm down. Everyone kept staring at him as though they expected him to start crying too, but he didn't. He was sad, sadder than he'd ever been in his life, but more than that, he was confused. Why would his father go all the way to Oldhill when he was supposed to be buying bread? Why would anyone beat him up? Thomas Smith was the nicest man in Krolva- everyone said so. If someone wanted money, he would just give it to them. Why would they hurt him so badly? He didn't do anything wrong…
Maybe teachers aren't s'pposed to say things that aren't in the books…
…why would the Military Police care about a teacher teaching the wrong thing? They were supposed to catch criminals… his father wasn't a criminal…
Why didn't he tell the rest of us, then…?
He didn't know… he didn't know why… All he knew was that his stomach hurt and he wanted to go home, but he couldn't make his legs move…
"…somewhere along the line, my father's theory became my gospel. I made it my life's mission to prove his hypothesis… and mine. Humans become Titans… Titans become the Walls… in this world so full of miracles, my father doesn't seem so crazy for believing that one hundred and seven years ago, the people who escaped to these walls had their memories altered so the king could control them better… and so we would forget that we weren't alone in the world." Pixis did not scoff or deride him. He silently absorbed everything Erwin told him, just like Thomasin used to. Finally, he nodded slightly.
"…because there would be no other way for a society to function within an enclosed system like ours?"
"I believe so. As we've seen time and again since the fall of Wall Maria, it doesn't take much to nudge our society into complete chaos, so for the masses to have been so calm over the last century seems… unnatural. Over the years, doubt has often nipped at my heels, but at last, I've witnessed a miracle that seems to support his theory." He leaned forward in his seat. "Eren controlled the Titans. The Female Titan seemed to have a similar ability, though in a more limited capacity. There are people who can control Titans, and as we discovered in Ragako, humans and Titans are not biologically unrelated. If humans can direct the will of Titans with a scream… then what's stopping them from doing the same to other humans?" A shiver ran down his spine, the thrill of anticipation. All the pieces were lining up, and he wasn't the only one to notice.
"The royal government agreed to let Scout activities continue after the Stohess incident, but immediately after, ramped their interference up to unprecedented levels. Nothing had changed in that time, other than their learning that Eren had manipulated Titans. It's been made abundantly clear that the reason they want him so badly is because of his 'scream'."
"That changes things," Pixis murmured, but there was something still doubtful in his tone. No. Hopeful. "When the MPs first fought for custody of Eren, we assumed their goal was to kill him-"
"Back then, it may well have been. You heard what Nile said. 'Disposed of immediately'. In fact, I'm not certain that isn't still their goal…"
"That is what was said, but we both know the Assembly wouldn't tell their rank and file their true motivations. Is it not possible that in actuality, they want Eren's abilities so they can use this 'scream' as a way to protect humans from the Titans? They too have nowhere to run; they too share our fate. If their goals are the same, there is no reason for us to fight one another. If they understand the Titans better than we ever could… would it not be the most prudent decision to put him in their hands?" Erwin remained silent, but that was all the answer Pixis needed. His mustache twitched as his lips quirked into a wry smile. "You think I'm a sentimental old fool, don't you?"
"I think you're naive. I envy you, Pixis. I truly, truly do. I wish I shared your optimism in our governing bodies. I wish I lived a life that allowed me to turn a blind eye to the true machinations of the world… but ever since I was eight years old, I've asked myself, 'why would the government have to kill my father for nothing more than getting close to the truth? Why did he have to die for thinking the wrong thing?' Despite the cruelty of it, I'd hoped their motives might have at least been noble… After all, what is one man when weighed against all of humanity? But through the years of dealing with them, and seeing the world as it truly is, I've realized something about these men…" For as tight as his throat was, his voice remained even and strong, the years of grief tempered into a righteous fury that simmered within him, giving him strength.
"What they're fighting to protect is not humanity, but their positions and wealth and lands… In fact, if anything threatens their authority, their way of life, even another human being- even hundreds of thousands of human beings… they will eliminate that threat with no hesitation, no compassion… no thoughts to the lives they ruin… My father didn't die for the good of humanity, he didn't die to keep peace behind these walls; he was killed by human greed… and by the sheer stupidity of his own son…" He closed his eyes for a moment, breathing deeply to calm himself, to tamp the sorrow and guilt within him back down.
"He wasn't the first. And he was far from the last. To the royal government, there are too many people whose deaths don't matter, too many 'undesirables'. We ignore that fact on a daily basis. The soil within these walls is watered with the blood of innocents. We turned a blind eye, we obediently stood down while the humanity we were sworn to protect was slaughtered… Never again. We cannot- will not- hand Eren over to them."
"Well, I hope you have an ace up your-" An urgent knock interrupted him.
"Commander! Officer Nifa reporting!"
"Come in." The young redhead was drenched in sweat and panting hard. He could see her legs shaking from exhaustion as she approached, and he stood, meeting her halfway.
"From the Lieutenant."
"Good work." He shook the folded piece of paper open, squinting at Levi's cramped handwriting.
I'll spare you the grisly details. Rod Reiss is the real king. Hope you don't need a signed confession, cuz this fuckstick isn't gonna be holding a pen anytime soon…
Erwin let out the breath he felt as though he had been holding for weeks, a massive amount of tension lifted from his shoulders.
"What does it say?" Pixis asked.
"First let me remind you that, while I did say we would not kill, blood must be spilled in any new birth. Cadet Historia Reiss is the true heir to the throne, as confirmed by one of the highest ranking officers in the MPs' First Interior Squad. I hope you have less qualms about displacing a pretender and crowning the rightful ruler of these walls."
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A/N- (manga chapter 55) Pixis, to Erwin- "So you're saying human beings will finally spill each other's blood inside these cramped Walls."
Uhhhhhh…!? Y'all have sex traffickers who murdered a little girl's parents, and tried to murder a little boy- there's a police record of it. Your secret police tortured and murdered a priest, slit Historia's mom's throat in front of her when she was 10, shot both of Armin's parents, and disappeared the dad of the guy you're talking to. Your normal police carry around rifles; you don't carry a fucking rifle in the streets unless you think you need to use it. You have a serial killer who murdered over 100 people! People kill each other in your society constantly and have been for years; what the fuck are you talking about!? That's like saying "So, the US will finally have to use nuclear weapons" in 2022! What are you smoking, Pixis? Is it crack? Is that what you smoke? Seriously, I can't tell if he's supposed to be an example of an aggrandized general who thinks he knows everything because of his position but in reality has no idea what's going on in the world around him, or if he's just a sociopath who doesn't consider anyone below a certain tax bracket to be a human being (I'm leaning more towards the latter because of his undeserved sense of moral superiority). Or, more realistically, I think Isayama kinda forgot about all the blood humans have spilled in his story and meant for that line to be taken completely straight and at face value since Erwin didn't immediately begin cursing Pixis out for saying something that ignorant to his face (seriously, this man has known the government kills its own people since he was a child, and he didn't have anything to say about that remark?).
I wanted this chapter to go more in depth in the setup of the coup, but I honestly could not bring myself to set it up anymore. I just couldn't. This was one of the few parts of the story I legit had difficulty with because as much as I love this part (and only this part, not the Eren and/or Historia stuff; I don't care for them) in the manga, I just cannot bring myself to write about it more than I already have. Y'all know I love writing the details behind the events, but I am just not in the mental state right now to write about this. Please forgive me and accept the rest of the story as my apology. Also, if you're an anime-only reader, some of the details of this part might seem mixed up or out of order- that's because the anime cut out and watered down so much of this arc that it's more water (*coughLevifightscenescough*) than "arc". I am interjecting parts of the anime here and there, but for the most part, this follows the manga version of events (seriously, anime-onlies, if you don't read any other part of the manga, I highly recommend finding scans of the Uprising Arc and reading just that because it's the peak of the series).
On the other hand, I'm incredibly proud of that flashback (I was absolutely not channeling any negative childhood experiences). I'm not very good at writing children's' voices, especially when those children are meant to be mature, but clearly still young, but I think I made Erwin into a believable child. The way I've always read Erwin (and thus, the way I've written him in this fic) is that, for as ruthless and cunning and awe-inspiring as he is, in his heart, he's still that sad, confused little boy wondering why his dad didn't come home and beating himself up over it. He never processed his guilt and grief and trauma, and it's been festering inside him for twenty five years. Will this boy ever get the therapy he desperately needs? Only Ymir knows~