The wilderness reclaim of Shinganshina was laughable compared to what remained of the Temple of Light, buried beneath thousands of years of forest growth. Had it not been for Arya they would have completely passed it by, as they nearly had, unaware of the depths of history that lay tangled in briar and thicket on the Northern edge of the crystal-clear lake.
It bore a strong resemblance to the Marotsara site in its abandon: lichen and creeper moss climbing up the sides of structures, as if at any moment it would be dragged down into the depths of the green sea that swam below it. Most of the buildings remained standing thanks to the dome-like grove of trees that had grown to shelter the temple and surrounding housing, but they were merely shells; echoing, dark structures that were now only husks left by the passage of time.
Making their way through the prickle bushes and thorny shrubs they came to settle on the shallow stairs that lead to the dark maw of the temple, which had become more like a piece of the forest itself than anything made by man. The feeling of being watched had not abated, and even though each of them stared into the woods and abandoned homes around them carefully, they were still confronted with the strange sensation of being both surrounded yet impossibly alone, as if they had stepped into a room that could been seen into, but not out of.
Taking a long drink from his canteen, Armin wiped the sweat from his brow and peered up to the rotting doors of the temple and into the darkness beyond them. The air was thick but incredibly clear, like the sheer amount of greenery was producing too much oxygen for such a confined space. Moisture clung to every leaf and vine dappled by the overcast sunlight above, creating swirls of mist that hung over the ground like fallen clouds.
How Arya had known seemed like too small a question for the scope of its meaning, and in any case, no one appeared to possess the desire to ask, at least not in as many words. There had been a brief moment during their short walk along the pebbled coast in sight of the first few hulking ruins that Levi had stopped her, stepping into her path next to the water, his request for an answer etched onto his face. Neither of them had spoken, but Armin had the impression that they didn't need to.
The time to ask would come, sooner rather than later he was sure, but now he had finally managed to grab ahold of the reins of his focus. This would require all eyes.
Climbing shakily up to where the entrance stood, moldy with decay against the otherwise stable stone around it, Armin leaned in, inspecting the thick doors the same as he had in the mountains. If there had been any doubt as to whether this was the place they were searching for, it was now put soundly to rest. The wood may have been eaten away by the elements, but the wrought iron crest of the tree was still embedded deep in what remained.
Connie, Oz and Mikasa had followed him up from where the rest of the team was waiting for further instructions, and they were now eying the shadowed halls beyond cautiously.
"Is this it?" Mikasa asked, her voice muffled by the damp moss that ran like carpets across the landing.
"This is the place." Armin replied, gesturing to the sigil adorning the entrance. "While I'm sure whatever we are looking for will be somewhere in the temple, there may be something useful within the town itself. We have a lot of ground to cover, and I doubt we can get much done once the sun is down."
He turned to Jean, who had come to join them on the landing, a deep frown on his face.
"Something's not right here, Armin." He said, looking restlessly around at the wall of forest that encompassed the settlement. "It's like the trees themselves are watching us, waiting for our next move. I don't know what the hell this place really is, but I'd rather keep our stay here brief."
"Ah, shit, don't say that!"
Oz had whipped around at Jean's words, shifting back and forth on the balls of his feet uneasily. If he had seemed nervous before, it was nothing compared to how he acted now that they had arrived at their intended location. It looked like he was one loud noise away from making a break for it. Armin patted his shoulder lightly - which made Oz jump - as he returned Jean's concern.
"Agreed, a day or two at most."
The group was then split into two: Armin leading the exploration inside the sanctum, while Jean headed the team meant to check out the surrounding area. Pieck and Gabi joined the interior squad, who took off down the slick hallways in pairs, peering into dark rooms and under mossy furniture for anything that might be useful. The lower levels were inaccessible, flooded by murky rainwater that lapped softly at the crumbling basement stairwell; water lilies and algae spotting its black surface that had risen halfway up the slippery staircase.
The main floor and upward had faired significantly better, though vegetation had crept its way through the shutterless windows, taking refuge in any nook and cranny that was available to it; the flagstone only a grey compliment to the otherwise vibrant green that poured in from outside.
They spoke very little as they searched the rooms carefully, barely able to identify the purpose of any given space after so many years of abandon.Yet the entire structure gave off an almost reverent aura, as if even time could not diminish the sense of magic and power that had once roamed the halls freely, back when the temple had been the home to the Children of Light. This feeling left them all on edge, as if at any moment some all-powerful force would reveal itself to them; one they weren't entirely sure they were ready for.
When they had located nothing of value on the main floor besides what looked like a big and empty office, Armin's team regrouped and made their way up the cracked stairs to the second floor; peering around a half open door and into the central-most room on the landing, which turned out to be a large, cathedral-style room of worship. Much of the high ceiling remained intact, save for a meter-wide hole in the center, which seemed intentional rather than damaged. Carved stone pews fanned out from the high altar at the far end to where they stood in the doorway, taking in the ancient and intricate craftsmanship of the church.
It was undeniably beautiful: carvings adorned almost every stone surface, depicting images that ranged from sun and moon cycles to gorgeous landscapes and farmlands, all of which was still startlingly clear despite the vines that had slithered down from the circular skylight above and wound their way around pillars and walls alike. There was so much to look at that it was overwhelming, but the far wall behind the altar was what had truly captured Armin's attention. Coming to a stop just before the crumbling podium, his eyes widening as he tried to take in the enormity of detail carved into a massive mural on the wall in front of him.
The outer edges were filled with people; great towns full of lively and happy communities, some going about their lives peacefully, while others sat kneeling in prayer. They were all angled towards the centerpiece of this incredible artwork: a massive and glorious tree that even in the dim lighting of the temple seemed to give off an ethereal glow.
Nestled in the twisted roots of the ever-reaching tree were the two titan organisms, and Armin bit back the unease that was wriggling around in his stomach. Though his doubts about what he had uncovered in the Marotsara texts had been small, having it confirmed so absolutely took away any hope they might have had to turn back.
The carvings were limited in their shape and detail, as if their true description was unknown to those that had designed this incredible mural. This vagueness mattered very little, it seemed, since the two creatures were cast in what could only be gold; the weak light from above making them gleam as if they were lit from the inside out.
"They really did worship the titans, huh."
The rest of Armin's group had come to a stop beside him, necks craned backwards at the holy fresco while Connie made for the golden figures, shaking his head as he ran his hand across their smooth surface.
"I bet these would be worth a fortune."
"Something tells me stealing from an ancient, holy church might not be the best idea." Pieck remarked. "Talk about curses."
She and Gabi moved up for a closer look at the cast figures, and Armin felt Mikasa appear at his shoulder.
"I wonder what these people would have to say if they knew how much death their "gods" would come to inflict on humanity." She said darkly, and Armin understood where her anger was coming from.
This building had housed a group of people that literally worshiped the very entities that had destroyed almost the entire population; treating them like gods that blessed them with long life and power in return for a price in blood that could never be repaid. How horrifying that seemed to them now, so far in the future from the days when this temple was new, but he couldn't help but feel as though that wasn't quite the truth.
"Titans on their own, as in the organisms themselves, never hurt anyone." He said, and Mikasa gave him confused and furious look; one Armin only took half notice of in his thoughtful state.
"It was people that inflicted so much pain onto our world. For however many years, these creatures were docile; even going as far as to "bless" the Children of Light with health and happiness. It wasn't until titan ecology was met with humans that it became dangerous, and that was because humans took their power and twisted it for their own selfish gains. Their strength was never meant to be wielded by us, but just as always, humanity always wanted more… they just didn't anticipate the lengths we would go to get it."
His words hung between them as they scoured the room, turning over every free-standing object in hopes that their journey to this place wouldn't leave them empty-handed. It seemed like every step they took towards knowing more about the titan's origins raised more questions than it did to provide answers to the ones they already had, and though Mikasa digested Armin's observation with distaste, the truth of the matter could be seen everywhere in that old but beautiful room.
In the time all this had been constructed, the only thing that titans had done for the world was provide peace and happiness to those who devoted their lives to the protection of these creatures; it wasn't until their power had met the cruelty and hatred of man that it became a blight on humanity's survival.
Mikasa remembered the first time many years ago, with the ocean rushing over her bare feet, that she considered the world as it stood. Was it possible that titans weren't the true cause of the pain and suffering they had endured, but merely the result of power being placed in the wrong hands? This she now knew to be true. If that was the case, then would it be truthful now to say that the colossal of the walls weren't responsible for the deaths of millions of lives, since all they did was follow the intention of the one who led them?
This she was less sure of.
The reverberation call of Jean from the landing downstairs ended their search prematurely, though the slow loss of daylight had begun to hinder them a good hour before. They may have been able to light torches and continue their search after the sun had set, but exhaustion had them fully spent; both from the exertion of their travels and simply because of the heft that came from being in a place so filled with memory.
As night descended down upon them, the Scouts went about setting up a base of operations in the large empty office on the main floor; no one particularly happy about spending the night in the temple, but neither could they refuse the chance to sleep with a roof over their heads. Armin wondered if rest would even be able to find them here, deep in the forests of a world forgotten, but their concerns were no match for their need for respite.
Jean, and the others who had been tasked with investigating the surrounding structures, had had about as much success as the interior team, finding little value in the decaying husks outside other than a pervasive feeling of foreboding that hung everywhere they looked. From what they could tell the outer buildings had been abandoned first, until anyone who was left fled to the temple in the wake of whatever plight they faced. If it had been the old kings' persecution, Reiner had said during their evening meal, then there was a bizarre lack of evidence to suggest a battle of any kind.
The passing of millennia would have erased most of it, certainly, but there had been whole sections of buildings that were sealed off from the rest, acting like tombs for the spaces they protected. And yet they were all empty, devoid of any indication that there had been people here at all. No mummified remains resting in their decrepit beds, or sun-bleached skeletons lying in the street, brought down where they fled.
The disposal of corpses had been a staggering feat in Marly following the first two years after the Rumbling; straining the thin filaments of hope they had tied together and staining it red. As different as this was -was it? - it begged to reason there would still be something. Instead, it was like the entire village walked out of their homes one night and into the trees, faced with the sudden urge to be anywhere else but here.
They took to sleep in shifts; three sets of eyes patrolling the long wall of windows facing out towards the main square while the rest succumbed to the force of their tiredness. With Jean, Mikasa and Alexi on first watch, Armin lay tangled beneath a shroud of blankets with his back against the far wall near the fireplace. The damp wood they had gathered did little more than smoke in the grate for a good while, but eventually it caught, washing over the room with its flickering light against the unseasonably cool evening.
Despite himself he could feel his mind starting to unravel, the gentle pull of unconsciousness as the day finally took its toll. With only a few scattered whispers among the weary Scouts, the room sat in almost comfortable quiet. His awareness felt like trying to hold water with a colander, his eyesight blurring at the edges. How nice it was to sleep; to float away from all your waking troubles in a cloud of ignorance, responsibility forgotten like clothes left out on the line. It was like dying without the permanency. A forgiving death.
It was this intrusive thought that lingered as Armin drifted off, the last thing he saw being a mane of dark hair splayed across the floor, arm curled around her head and reaching out towards someone sitting against the wall beside her. Her fingers stretched out sleepily, searching, until the person responded by placing a palm down on the mossy cobblestone. Knuckles grazing, comforting, connecting, and the shimmer of firelight on steel.