-Chapter 45: Decisions, Decisions-
It was another starry night inside the walled lands, and another day of dull existence for three odd youths in the outer borders of Wall Maria.
Life was a bit of a struggle for these three, especially when one of them was nothing more than a crippled and sporadic mess, prone to spastic episodes of manic anger, panic, and at times, self-loathing. And their condition was proving far from improving.
Many inside of the remote village the three resided in attempted to help in whatever way they could for the wounded teen, but their concerns were brushed away, as the two still healthy youths assured the worried people of the small village that they were more than capable of treating their wounded friend.
A lie, spoken as easily as they breathed.
Not wanting to further trouble the people of the small remote village the three would depart for better pastures, not before thanking the people for their hospitality and tolerance for their friend's frequent nightly episodes.
With that small little village in the outskirts of Wall Maria behind them the three traveled eastward, eventually setting up camp near another town close to the entrance to the Shiganshina District. It was there they could find better employments and hopefully continue their real task, the sole reason they were even in this land to begin with.
-oOo-
After a long day of labor Bertholdt Hoover returned to his and his compatriots little camp, the chirps and howls of the nightly wildlife accompanying him as he passed through the silent streets of the small town they stationed near and into the wilds of the forest beyond.
A wrapped rectangular object was secured tightly in his hands. It had taken some time, but he had finally been able to acquire the item. A small smile stretched across his face, as he was sure this would lighten his friend's spirits, as it did for him.
With light, brisk steps he made his way into their campground, stopping suddenly as he noticed the small bright glow emanating from the tent. His heart tightened, as he was rather hoping the two would be fast asleep by now.
With slow and steady movements he carefully approached the main tent, opening up the flaps to meet the blonde-haired female of their group, who was seated in one of the back corners of the tent writing something atop her crossed legs, as a single candle atop a small crate lit up her figure in the darkness.
"Welcome back Bertholdt."
With a bored tone of voice she greeted him with an equally bored expression on her face, before returning to her writing. While most would be offended or put off by the lack of etiquette Berthold had known her long enough to become accustomed to her mannerisms.
Giving her a nod he turned to the other side of the tent, seeing the sleeping figure of their third companion Reiner. His shaky breaths being just barely audible at the moment, a blessing compared to other days.
"Finally managed to get him to sleep half an hour before you showed up." Annie whispered with a hint of frustration in her voice. "If it wasn't for his screwy brain, I would have just choked him out."
Bertholdt frowned at Annie's words, not finding it amusing whatsoever.
"You'll just make it worse." He muttered out. It wasn't as if his condition was getting any better, and he was more than certain she wasn't joking.
Even during their younger years they never got along, but after his injury the two seemed to be in constant states of hostility. A passive aggressive comment here, a threat on their life there.
During Reiner's lucid moments he'd have all sorts of nasty things to say about Annie, and she would share similar words in kind, while also holding back the urges to beat him senseless.
If it wasn't for him serving as the mediator, and the fact Reiner was one of them, then it was a certainty that Annie would have left him out in the woods to die or done the deed herself.
It was worrying at times, for he didn't know when he'd just come back to camp one day and not find Reiner there or find his body atop the fire pit. For all the trouble he made he was still one of the few, if not the only friend he's had. He wasn't ready to say goodbye so soon.
With a low huff in response to his words Annie continued to write and returned to the topic at hand.
"So, care to tell me where you've been for the last few hours?"
Seeing as she wasn't going to let him go Bertholdt tried to come up with a decent answer, all while looking away from her sudden piercing side glance, that looked both unsettling…and alluring.
"Ah, well you know. Just scouting out some stuff…"
A cliched choice of words, and his own unconscious head scratching, did little if anything to convince Annie.
His words seemed to amuse her to his alarm, as a small smile formed on her face.
"You've been seeing the cult again, haven't you?"
She didn't need to look at his shocked expression to know she had caught him red handed, for she knew where he really was all this time.
More than once she had seen him speaking to the blue hooded folk whenever they went out into town. She didn't think much at first, as in her mind he was simply gathering info on the giant.
Then came his late returns to camp, which would frustrate her, especially when it was his turn to watch over their little burden. After one too many times she went out to hunt him down and give him a piece of her mind.
Her search would lead her to the cults repurposed church and with one look through the windows of the church did she spot her comrade oh so entrenched with the loonies who worshipped the giant and his gods.
It amused her, as she thought how livid the higher ups would be once they found out one of their little weapons was going native.
"I uhhh…I-I..."
Bertholdt didn't really know what to say in response. Of course Annie would know, he told himself. She was the best of them when it came to espionage. All he could do was stutter and try to look at something in the tent that wasn't Annie.
"*Sigh* Not that I really care." She said, as her eyes turned to the sleeping cripple. "But if 'mush for brains' hears you've been visiting them he'll probably die from the shock."
"Don't say things like that." Bertholt pleaded. Their luck wasn't the best, so the last thing he wanted was for Annie to jinx them even further. As he neared her, he took notice her writing.
"What are you writing?" He asked innocently.
"Something personal." Annie said, quickly folding the paper away from Bertholdt's prying eyes. Her icy blue eyes warned him to mind his own business. And Bertholdt did just that.
Putting her things away Annie returned to her previous question.
"Back on topic, you've been seeing them again, right?"
"Yeah…" There was no point in denial anymore. He had indeed been to the church. What was once a small detour from his scouting and laborious odd jobs had become a by-weekly trip.
He told himself it was simply to know more about their giant who had turned their lives upside down. Which was why he had spent many hours listening and conversing with those who had worshipped him, and these higher powers that had apparently sent him here. Perhaps there could be some crucial info that could be learned and used.
And he would find such knowledge in the form of the item in his hands. Unraveling it from its covering he presented to Annie the fruits of his time with the cult.
It was a book, a very special book. One she recognized as the one some of the preachers out in the other walls would often keep on their persons and show to the huddled masses that offered them the time of day.
"Ohhh finally got one of those eh?"
Passing it to his companion Annie's hands nearly collapsed under the weight of the surprisingly beefy piece of literature. Getting a better grip she placed it atop her crisscrossed legs, getting a closer look at the blue tinted cover.
Marked with the familiar icon of the giants spiked club she ran her hand across it, noticing the small runic details around the cover and on the weapon itself. And below the spiked weapon was the bold title of the book, written in the language of the land.
'The Book of Maverick'
How original, she thought to herself. With a humored scoff at the clear vanity of the title she opened to the first page of the book which contained a short little passage.
He hails from a land beyond the Walls.
A nation born from the spilt tea and fires of revolution.
He was born from a union of the west and the east.
Brought to the world by the will of his mother, and the storm of the God of Thunder.
Raised to be like any mortal creation, just like you and me.
He was chosen among the millions of his homeland, for a cause higher than himself.
Sent to us by the divine higher powers. A herald of the great pantheons.
He, the one whom we the people of Shiganshina call Savior, Champion, and Slayer, has seen much in his great life.
From lands beyond the Walls, to places once thought as myths.
And with the roads he has traveled, come a tale to be told.
These are but just some of those tales.
Annie's brows raised with mild interest, finding the little info regarding his birth as kind of amusing, but she hoped the riddle-speak was not going to be a constant thing. Flipping the pages she began to skim through what this book had to offer, hoping to find more informative things she could get her hands on.
And she would indeed find one such tidbit, as the beginning seemed to go into some details regarding the giant's personal life, such as his birthplace that the beginning passage mentioned, a nation known as the United States of America.
A picture depicting the land was given with two whole pages. A picture which soon caused her some confusion at first, which soon turned to heart sinking shock.
This had to be some sort of sick joke, she thought. A joke she wasn't a part of, nor did she appreciate.
With low muttered curses, she scanned the drawn landmass with scrutinizing eyes. This had to be some sort of giant coincidence, for the shape of the landmass held a very strong sense of familiarity.
She slowly turned the book upside down. Once she did, she remained frozen in place. As she feared this land was a practically a near copy of another landmass she had seen before.
She turned to her companion while lowering the book, allowing him to see the image. His response was a knowing nod.
"I know…" It was just as a soul-striking surprise to Bertholdt when he saw the picture. It brought about so many questions in his head, and a copious amount of fear, as he wasn't quite sure if he wanted them answered.
Shoving down her shock back down her throat Annie turned back to the book and quickly skimmed past more pages, looking for any more crucial bits of exploitable knowledge that hopefully wouldn't make her question her reality.
It would soon become clear to her however that this book was more fantastical than knowledgeable. Just reading the titles of a few pages cemented that thought.
"Tales of Ylisse…Hunt for the Van Der Linde…Birth of Americana…An Athenian among Spartans…Scouring of the Skaelings…"
It was clear this was just a storybook, meant to both entertain and glorify the giant's existence and deeds across these numerous 'lands' he had apparently journeyed through. While very disappointed she had to admit they were quite interesting. They'd make a good read before bed at least.
Skimming through the last few pages she reached the ending pages which had a retelling of his defense of the district against the titans, with the accompanying image of the story being the giant standing atop a mountain of skeletal titan corpses, no doubt a recreated depiction of his butchery of the titans that breached the district.
"Y'know I-I've been thinking..."
Annie gave a questioning look, wondering where her companion was going with this.
"Our mission here isn't exactly going to plan." He began, just as he sat himself down and wrapped his arms around his legs. "We lost one before we even got here, and another is…well…"
The two looked to their sleeping companion. No words were needed to explain his issue.
"They'll see this as a failure on our end whether we actually achieve our objective or not." Berthold continued. For Annie this was already common knowledge. Since minute one this whole operation had gone belly up, the giant was just one big and unexpected roadblock in their way.
No, he was a sinkhole, one that kept expanding, and if they weren't careful, it would swallow them whole.
Which was why she had begun to get certain…affairs in order, for should things go completely south with their whole 'infiltrate the military' plan.
"Which is why I've been thinking…"
Brought out of her own darkening thoughts Annie listened as Bertholdt told her of what he believed was the best possible course of action that could lead to a better outcome. Not just for them, but for this entire operation in its entirety.
After giving his idea Annie was left completely surprised. Not only for the fact at how shockingly assured he was when he said all this to her.
But by how idiotic it all was.
"Oh Bertl..."
"H-Huh?" Hearing her not only call him by his old childhood nickname, but to hear the resignment in her voice made him worry.
"You honestly think he'll agree?" With a hand underneath her chin she pressed on, while giving him a very serious look. "After what we did?"
A small moment of silence followed as Bertholdt tried to recover his nerves. He knew she wouldn't be so agreeable to this and was prepared for this exact question. As it was something that he himself asked himself many times.
"If we just explain to him tha-"
"What? That were the ones responsible for the breach?" Annie interrupted. "That were the ones responsible for the deaths of nearly half of the people here?"
Releasing a sigh she brought her knees close as she continued to imagine every worst-case scenario that came from Bertl's idea. There was no possible way that their actions would be swept under the rug so easily, especially from the people of Shiganshina.
They would want blood. And the Slayer would be the one to give it to them.
"He'll sooner put our heads on pikes than help us. I wouldn't blame him."
At this point everything they did from now on wouldn't matter to anyone. It was all becoming a lose-lose situation. As far as she knew they were the walking damned.
Bertholdt shook his head at her words. He didn't need to be reminded of the fact that many in Shiganshina held the Colossal in complete and utter contempt, calling it every foul name under the surface. He didn't need to be reminded that the Slayer was waiting for the Colossal to reappear. The thought of what he might do was frightful enough to haunt his dreams for months.
Yet regardless of his fears, he wasn't about to let go of his case. With Reiner essentially out of commission he essentially had to step up as team leader, despite his own insecurities and doubts.
"Your right." He began. "They won't forgive nor forget what we've done, just as he won't forgive those who sent us here."
Momentarily surprised by his sudden hardened tone to her Annie remained silent for a bit before finding her voice again.
"And what makes you so sure that he won't go after us after he goes through them?"
An unusually confident look was on Bertholdt's face when she said that, for that was something he thought exactly during one of his visits to the cults main base of operations, some time ago.
-oOo-
Chapel of the Morning Star, sometime ago…
There Bertholdt stood, facing one of the many framed pictures mounted on the wall of the Chapel of the Morning Star. It was made some years ago by some local artist from a guild up in Wall Rose that the cult had commissioned early on to decorate their new place of worship.
Said artist, one Christoph Achenbach, along with his apprentices and other up and coming artists, had joined the flock. Now they devoted their talents to bring the storied tales of the giant into artistic reality, and to secure their own legacies as well.
He had seen this certain picture a few times, though not as close as he was now. And now from this close point of view he could see the numerous small details that had been drawn, making his viewing of the painting all the more dazzling.
'The Blessed and the Terror' was its name.
It depicted the giant, much smaller than he was now, in a hellish sanctuary facing against a massive, red skinned, demonic creature and its minions encircling him. A fight to the seeming death.
Adorned in glistening armor and wielding two silvery hammers in each hand that shined a near blinding light, the giant was pictured forming a cross symbol with said hammers as his demonic opponent loomed over him, it's arms and clawed hands surging with sparking arcs of red lighting that glistened like the glowing red spike lodged in the beast's forehead.
And from what Bertholdt could see it seemed the big red brute was the only one that looked to be ready to fight, for the other smaller, less imposing demons surrounding the two looked…apprehensive. Focusing he could see some disgusted looks from the more human looking ones, especially those closest to the giant.
As if being near him was something they couldn't stand.
"Intrigued by the image young man?"
Bertholdt shoulders hitched up suddenly at the sound of the voice, causing him to quickly turn around, and be met by a pair of beady eyes nearly hidden underneath a blue hood.
Standing, to his shock, right behind him was the head of the cult, Cornelius the first acolyte. A small, humored smile stretched across his visible lower face, for it wasn't the first time he had nearly scared the spirit out of someone.
Regaining his nerves the young man answered the cultist, as he wondered just how he managed to sneak up on him.
"A-Ah yeah they're uhh…really…uhh…"
Chuckling at his seeming loss of words the acolyte stood by his side, looking up at the painting that the young man had been seemingly entranced by.
"Yes, quite an odd scene, isn't it?" He spoke as he looked at the artwork, as well as the others that decorated the walls of the church. "To think the titans aren't the only horrors beyond the wall."
Bertholdt's heart clenched at the man's words, as a wave of guilt, shame, and self-hatred struck his soul. How would the hooded man react, knowing he was standing next to the one who was responsible for the breach.
Unaware of the young man's discontent the cultist spoke on. "And yet, among those horrors, was him."
Clasping his hands together in a seeming prayer he continued to look upon the painted depiction of the Slayer. Even in his distant past he still seemed willing to take on any threat that came his way. "Each of these pieces show but a mere moment in his life-long journey. And of our order."
"Really?"
"Oh yes." Cornelius nodded. "It may surprise you, but we are not the first to venerate him or his benefactors."
Gesturing for Bertholdt to follow him he led the boy across the church, passing by the other members of the order as they went about their daily activities. Bertholdt couldn't help but look on as he witnessed a group of cultists paint themselves with blue markings or observe a number of them go out towards the entrance doors, with a preacher donned with lightning bolt iconography leading them.
He also looked up to the stained-glass windows of the church. Once holding the images of the three wall goddesses, they now painted images of the giant's gods. Like the paintings they were gifted to the chapel as they strived to remove any influence from the Wall Cult.
Arriving at what he spoke of Cornelius regained Bertholdt's attention with a set of portraits lined up next to one another. "These are but a few of our honored brethren from beyond that the Slayer has spoken of."
Bertholdt was presented with a number of images. One was of an elderly looking man, who had apparently gone by the name of The Prophet. He had beseeched the Slayer with the quest of slaying of an ancient enemy of man, and bared witness to his display of his divinely gifted powers. Following his success, he would become the first to claim him as the chosen of the Nine Divines, and the first of the order in the distant lands of Cyrodiil.
"And here is Brother Rust, one of our distant brothers hailing from the land Pandora."
Cornelius pointed to the next acolyte; a man adorned with a blue robe that displayed his bare, tattooed chest. His face was hidden by a white mask, marred with blue markings and blue glowing eyes that almost seemed to peer through the portrait to him. One of his hands formed in a peaceful gesture, while the other held a sort of blunt weapon with a circular bladed head. And around him was a number of roses, and some sort of arch-like symbol above his head.
"Like many of its natives he was nothing more than a savage bandit who'd roamed the lands, pillaging and slaughtering anyone and anything the land hadn't claimed." The acolyte explained "Only to come faced with Him."
With an acknowledged nob from the young man the cultist continued his tale. "After witnessing the Slayer's display of divine might against him and his tribe he pledged himself to the giant's service. Under him he would be rehabilitated and reborn not only as the first Acolyte, but the first Grandmaster of the Neo-Crusaders."
"Neo-Crusaders?"
"An order of knights." Cornelius specified. "Made up of many other rehabilitated marauders they set out from the grand city of Americana to weed out the wicked and bring order to the land."
He gestured to the next portrait, which showed an image of the other distant follower. A battle-scarred, one-eyed man was painted adorned with green armor and skull iconography. Despite his seeming warrior image, he was painted with a serene look, as his hands were joined together in a praying gesture, with a rosary hanging down from his conjoined hands.
"And here we have Brother Dominic, from the land of Cadia." Cornelius began. "He was a soldier of a vast human kingdom known as the Imperium of…"
Cornelius stopped himself mid speech as from the corner of his eyes he noticed the young man was still looking at the portrait of Brother Rust. With a quizzical look he returned to his side.
"Still curious of him?" He asked. A small moment of silence followed before he received an answer from the young man.
"Why?..." Bertholdt asked with a slight shake of his head.
"Hmm?"
"Why did he choose some bandit?" Bertholdt said. "Out of anyone he could have possibly chosen to make into the leader of a band of knights, he chose some low-down killer."
With a narrowed look he continued to stare into the painted glowing eyes of this seemingly redeemed outlaw, questioning the story that had been told to him.
There had to have been better candidates among the people of this 'Pandora'. And just how many other bandits had fallen before the Slayer's might before this certain one caught his eye? What made Brother Rust special among his savage kind? Why was he worthy of redemption?
Bertholdt's questions found no clear answer. Instead, a small chuckle was heard from the robed man by his side again.
"Y'know. I asked him the same thing when he recounted his tale." Cornelius spoke in an almost nostalgic tone. "Why was someone, whom many would sooner shoot on sight rather than talk, ever be chosen for such a position?"
He gestured to the portrait next to him. "Brother Dominic was a fellow soldier, who fought side by side with the Slayer throughout the siege of his homeland. The Prophet offered him guidance on his quest to slay the Unfeathered. What did Brother Rust offer, other than threats and cries from a maddened mind? "
Lowering his voice he neared the young man's personal space, as if what he was about to say was something not privy to everyone in the order.
"That's when he told me something very interesting."
Gaining the boy's interest and undivided attention he spoke the words that the champion of the gods spoke to him that day. A set of words that would stick inside young Bertholdt's mind now and forever.
"In times of great turmoils and catastrophes-"
-oOo-
Back to the present…
"-Even the most bitter of foes will find a reason to unite as one." Bertholdt said, finishing the sentence spoken by the head acolyte, much to Annie's confusion and slight unsettlement.
"And that reason is them." He continued his gaze hardening as he stared at the book still in Annie's hand.
"We have blood on our hands yes, t-that can never, will never, wash away…but they sent us here to do their dirty work, and they'll send others once our time is up."
Annie could only look on with wide and worried eyes at what he was saying, as well as seeing his hands curl into fists.
"We have a chance to end it all, if we just tell him. We tell him everything, and this can end, not just for us but for everyone back home..."
Treason. He was honestly talking about straight up treason. This wasn't the one whom she had grown up with throughout their early years, just who was this man that was wearing Bertholdt's face?
Her thoughts turned to towards the book that was held firmly in her hands, her eyes narrowing scornfully at the symbol of the morning star.
While Bertholdt hadn't drunk the fruity ale, it was obvious to her that he was looking for a way out.
The ever-worrying situation had obviously made him seek out alternate solutions to their already semi-compromised operation, a plan 'B' should their infiltration into the military forces prove less than fruitful and their failure to retrieve their target.
And the Cult of the Morning Star, and the Slayer by proxy, was that plan B.
"That still doesn't answer my question." Annie said wearily. "Will he forgive us?"
She emphasized them in specific. While she was sure that the Slayer would be more than happy to help those back home, his generosity would only go to those who had not done ill for the people here. That's what still scared her.
Bertholdt might have a death wish, but she wanted to live dammit. She had yet to fulfill a promise she made before she got to this blasted island. She didn't want this place to be her grave, a possibility that was a sure thing once they showed the people who they were, what they were.
Seeing the slight faltering of his expression told her he wasn't still very convinced in his own words. Not that she held it against him, if anything she was slightly impressed to see how hard he was trying to act tough.
And for that he deserved a little appreciative pat on the arm.
"Look let's just keep up the down low act, okay? This is obviously something that needs a little more thought."
The moment her hand touched his arm it seemed as if whatever traitorous thoughts that consumed him in those moments quickly began to dissipate, as his eyes had loss that hardened glint, and his shoulders slumped back down.
"Right…right…"
"Gahhh!"
The two quickly turned to see that Reiner had once again woken himself up from a night terror.
"Look who's up again *Sigh*"
Setting the book aside she gestured for Bertholdt to help her in the arduous task of settling their injured comrade down and lulling back to sleep. With a clenched fist and somewhat pleasant thoughts in her head she prepared herself for their leader's oh so lovely choice of words the moment he laid his single functioning eye on her.
-oOo-
Meanwhile, in the town of Eisengrad…
It began like always, with the memories of that day flashing into his dreams, as he relieved those blasted moments again. The most horrid being the face of that smiling giant, and the sight of his dear mother in its hands.
He shuddered as he watched her fruitless struggles, and felt his eyes water at the sound of her screams as the monster raised her body from the rubble of their old home.
Its grinning face would open up and stretch far wider than he thought a jaw could, and bring his squirming mother closer, and closer.
And just as the horrid climax would play out the sights before him would change and morph into a swirling mass, before reforming into another scene.
He then saw his father, surrounded by trees, with the moon high above the darkened starry sky. His smiling face betrayed the anxious and downright fright in his eyes.
Approaching him he placed his arms on his shoulders and muttered something to him, something he could hear only bits and pieces of. A few tender words, a heart to heart, and an apology.
His head would soon lower, and he could see tears drop down from his face.
Then he was gone, his view flashing once again. For his dreams would show him…odd things.
In one instance he was standing atop the wall, with the Colossal staring him down with beady sunken eyes in all his grotesque, fleshy, and horrific glory.
It was a shocking sight to him, but before he could even act or scream, it opened its mouth unleashing a massive wave of steam and heat that blew him away.
His vision would go all fuzzy and unfocused, as the world around him began to spin.
In another flash he was brought into the middle of a high-pitched battle, the world around him in a red and orange hue. A swarming army of grey skinned, red armored, and savage looking creatures sallied forth towards a great fortress, that lit up with the firepower of a hundred firearms.
Bodies of these creatures fell in droves, as giant titan-like beasts were joined in the battle.
Then a loud, horrid shriek was heard across the battlefield.
Hearing the shouts of the grey skins he turned around to see a group of sickly yellowish creatures come from seemingly nowhere and attack the grey skins. And from their ranks came the source of the shriek.
A massive, horribly disgusting titan-like creature charged its way through, the bodies of both yellow and grey skinned creatures either crushed under its feet or tossed aside in the air by the titan's numerous long limbs that swiped at anything that stood in its path.
He stood frozen as it continued to charge straight towards him, shrieking out a warcry of perpetual anger and rage from its oozing mouth. Frozen stiff he was unable to move as the raging titan collided into him.
In a flash he was now somewhere else. Looking around he saw he was no longer in a battlefield but instead in the ruins of a once seemingly grandiose city. The crumbling gothic architecture being something he had never seen before.
A massive earth-shattering thumping would alert him that he wasn't alone.
Turning he was met with a massive titan. Even from the distance he knew it was much taller than the Colossal that had appeared that day. He watched with awe as it strode along the city with slow yet powerful steps.
He noticed that its red colored body was like that of a massive fortress, with two equally massive cannons for arms, with numerous other smaller cannons peering through from its body. Banners of unknown origin flapped in the air.
It soon stopped in place and turned towards somewhere the distance. He watched as it raised its right arm, which lit up with a bright glow, glowing brighter and brighter, before unleashing a massive beam of fire that struck the earth.
And everything would go white. Before long he would be shown more odd sights throughout his dreamscape.
A grand city of spires that touched the sky, with the sky itself colored in an array of colors he had never seen before.
He saw the Survey Corps, draped in their old green cloaks, charging across a field straight into the path of a horde of incoming titans. Alongside them an army of citizenry, with a few shockingly familiar faces among them.
Then he found himself in the silent, hallowed halls of some long-abandoned place of worship. Resting on the pews were the broken, ruined forms of what he believed were people. Their skin was wasted away, revealing their skeletons that resembled rusted steel.
Two of the corpses in the center of the building caught his eye, a young couple judging by the smiles on their ruined faces. They seemed to have passed on while embracing one another, their decayed hands on the ground still strongly conjoined as the no doubt spent their last moments together.
In another flash he then was shown the sights of a titan in the pouring rain, surrounded by the bloody bodies of slain scouts. Sharply turning around, he was met with its bloody, grinning face, yet the most striking part was its glistening red eyes that shined through the misty rain.
In another flash he was shown a massive ship, much larger compared to the ones that transport supplies and people along the canals. It's seeming majesty was only betrayed by the poor state it was in, for it seemed abandoned, and left to the harsh winter elements.
His vision flashed once more and he was now in a surprisingly more familiar scene, for he could see the top of the wall just over the horizon. But whatever relief he had was soon lost, as the town he stood on was in shambles.
Believing he was back in the district he began to run for his home, only to soon realized that this wasn't Shiganshina.
The buildings, while not in the best-looking state, were not of the usual quality. They looked more…fancier, finer quality, decorative.
"Is this…Sina?" He asked himself.
A loud cry responded.
Covering his ears he felt the ground tremble and shake as the shriek reverberated across the ruined district.
He remained where he stood for a moment, debating whether to go towards the source or to stay and hide. The decision would be made for him, for the source would come to him.
Bursting through one of the ruined buildings was two massive forms down into the ground. The force of the impact sent him back flying a few feet away, tumbling around until he crashed into the nearest building.
Recovering from his tumble he raised his head to witness two titans engaged in a fight, to the death. One had black hair and the other was blonde, and both seemed equally physically fit.
The black-haired one brought its hands up and down onto its enemy with a speed and ferocity he hadn't seen in any titan, screaming out in rage as it did so.
The blonde-haired titan attempted to fight back, only to have one of its arms ripped off and promptly beaten with it.
In those moment it raised the torn limb it gave him a chance to see the attacker in all his glory, and what he saw had left him with mouth agape.
For the attacking titan's muscular body was marked in glowing markings. As were its eyes, which shined a furious glow as it looked down at its victim.
"Looks kinda like…"
His words died as he watched the attacker discard the limb and begin to tear into the blonde titan again, like a rabid animal goes to town on a discarded piece of meat.
With nails and teeth, it ripped and teared, until all that remained from its opponent was a dismembered head, held tightly in hand as he raised it, unleashing a victorious roar into the sky.
He was left in shaking awe. So frighteningly entranced was he at the sight that his legs refused to move, even as the titan soon set its glowing eyes towards his direction.
"FIGHT!" It shouted in a deep, guttural tone, as it presented the head of his slain foe.
"W-What…?"
"FIGHT!" It shouted again. It soon began to snarl and growl before spiking the head onto the ground, raised its arms, and began to beat its chest.
"FIGHT!" "FIGHT!" "FIGHT!"
It began to repeat the word in a mantra, while displaying its primal superiority over the steaming corpse that now laid underneath its feet.
Stepping over the remains it strode along the ruined streets toward him now. Its piercing, enraged gaze remained on him as he got closer.
"WAKE UP!"
"Huh?"
"WAKE UP EREN!"
Seeing the titan approach he tried to get up, but his legs were not responding. He began to shake himself, trying his hardest to move out of its way.
"WAKE UP!"
Its walk became a sprint, quickly gaining speed and momentum. Its sprint caused the world around him to rumble and shake, throwing him off from his attempts to rise and move out of the titan's way.
He could only watch as the attacking titan stopped within a few feet from him and leaned down till its was withing biting distance. All the while the shaking continued non-stop.
"WAKE UP EREN! WAKE UP!"
In that moment a single thought now permeated in his head as the light overtook him. As he noticed that the titan's voice was suddenly different.
It was a familiar tone, an overly familiar tone. One he had heard every day.
And just as he was about to recall whom that voice belonged to…
He felt a pinch, and soon enough he felt he couldn't breathe.
-oOo-
"GAHHH!"
With a mighty shake and flail from his arms Eren awoke from his slumber, gasping for the oh so sweet, sweet air that was taken from him.
He soon began to draw hands at his surroundings, trying to hit at whoever and whatever thought it was funny to pinch his nose while he was sleeping.
"Eren, Calm! Calm!"
Hearing that familiar voice from his dreams he looked around sporadically in the darkness, until his eyes met the distinct red scarf hiding the pale face standing right next to him.
"M-Mikasa?"
A small smile appeared on the young girls face as she nodded.
"You were mumbling and struggling in your sleep." She told him as she fixed up his bed cover. "Nightmares again, right?"
Taking a moment to steady his breathing he nodded. Mikasa figured, as it was a somewhat regular occurrence with Eren.
Ever since that day he had been plagued with nightmares, which were made worse so following the passing of Mr. Jaegar. At times it was the repeating scenes of his mother in the hands of that titan, with her savior nowhere in sight.
At times it was of his father, looking frantic and somewhat manic as he screamed at him about things he couldn't make out or understand.
And at many times it was of the titans, and other things. Things that he had told to no one else but her and Armin.
"Weird things again?"
With another nod from the boy she took out a small little journal from her person, a dream journal. Since his nightmares started she had begun to record them, trying to figure something about them.
Soon enough however it became their little mythical titan encyclopedia. As Eren would go on to describe the numerous odd titans his dreams had conjured up. Many little sketches of them filled her book, ranging from the abnormal to the bizarre.
"Yeah, and I had this really weird one too, before you tried to kill me." His less than pleasant tone did little to unnerve the oriental.
"You were shaking and mumbling in your sleep." She explained, while flipping to a clean page. "I was worried you might have had one of those falling dreams."
She had heard from a few folks in town that those were the worst kind of dreams, the kind that could kill you should you land. While nothing more than superstitions to many of the younger townsfolk, when it came to Eren's safety she had to treat any possible danger both possible and believable.
"Uh huh. Anyways…"
He recalled the dreams that had assaulted him that night, as usual they began with a repeat of the events of the breach which would drift to the many odd titans and sights his mind conjured up, with Mikasa adding in some new entries into the journal.
"The last one was this titan. Real freaky one."
"What did it look like?"
He quickly described the thing as best he could, before his mind began to forget it altogether. He also mentioned the fight it was in as well, it's brutal savagery still fresh in his mind.
"It was just…angry." He added. "Was just…screaming out at the world."
Mikasa nodded as she sketched out what she believed the titan to look like. She found the concept of one set of teeth above the other to be rather difficult to draw but she thought she had it down, as Eren nodded once she showed him the doodle.
"That wasn't all." He said, with Mikasa noticing the slight shift of tone. "Its eyes were like His. They glowed! A-And, and, it had other markings on its body too!"
Modifying her sketch, she added the markings as he described. Unlike the Slayer's they seemed much simpler, like slashes along its body.
"Uh huh…. Anything else?"
Running his hand through his hair Eren tried to recall any additional things from his dream. Unfortunately, much of what he had dreamt was already starting to become foggy and illusive, not to mention the slowly rising ache that was beginning in his head.
"That's all I can really remember right now."
Clutching his head he tried to take some deep breaths in order to keep the growing pain at bay, while Mikasa looked down at her notes trying to make some sense from this new titan he had spoken of.
"Maybe your mind was thinking about him and the titans at the same time?"
"Maybe…"
Hearing the quiet tone of voice she looked up and her visible eye widened at the sight of him clutching his head.
She chastised herself in her head. She knew he was prone to headaches afterward and yet here she was doodling instead of getting him something to help. Quickly closing her book she made her way towards their bedroom door.
"I'll get you some water."
"I can get it myself." Eren replied, as he began to rise from his bed. Only for an abnormally strong hand of Mikasa to sit him back down onto his bed.
"I'll get you some water."
With that she left their shared bedroom and made her way downstairs to the kitchen, leaving Eren to his thoughts for the moment.
Rubbing his temples he tried to recall the dreams, some of which already faded away into nothing. Was Mikasa right? Was his mind just so entuned with both the thought of his mother's savior and the titan that it decided to conjure up a mix of the two?
But then what of the other things? The battle? The frozen ship? The dead church? Why did his mind think of those things? It honestly scared him at times to see what his own mind could think of.
Soon enough Mikasa returned with a glass, handing it to him. The cool drink managed to slightly soothe his headache, giving his mind a chance to calm. "Better?"
Nodding he placed the empty glass on the counter and stared out at the window. Dawn was just breaking just over the horizon of the wall. And soon enough his mind turned to thoughts of what lied beyond that wall.
"You think He might know what's wrong with me?"
Alarmed by his choice of words the young girl sat close to his side, giving him a supportive hand to his shoulder.
"There's nothing wrong with you." She spoke. "They're just bad dreams. Nothing more, nothing less."
"Then why haven't you had them?" He asked with a narrowed look.
Silence filled the room as, to his surprise, his nonblood related sister's eyes dulled as she embraced the scarf wrapped snuggly around her neck.
"Who says I haven't?"
Quickly realizing his poor choice of words, he began to quickly apologize to his non-blood related sibling, chastising himself in his head all the while.
"T-That came out wrong!" He quickly said as he chastised himself. "I-I-I didn't mean-"
The knowing look in her eyes told him she thought no ill will. No one knew more than herself that she wasn't much for strong displays of emotion, especially after what had happened many years before. While she indeed had her fair share of less than pleasant dreams, she simply held it all inside, less she troubled her family.
They had done much for her, the last thing she wanted was to burden them, especially nowadays with Mrs. Yae-her mother's condition.
And speaking of her…
"You still thinking about joining up in the spring?" She asked softly, seeing his hardening eyes as they stared out into the distance. "M-Mom could still use a hand around the house."
Eren's gaze softened at the mention of their mother. Every time he thought of her it brought all manner of overwhelming and conflicting feelings in his heart.
On one hand he wanted to fulfill that desire that had been growing inside of him for so long, and with the arrival of the enlistment season and his now appropriate age, he was certain he could make those dreams of his a reality.
Yet on the other hand his mother wasn't the same woman she was many years ago. Her near death experience had left her crippled, and even with the advent of the wheeled chair and crutches there was only so much she could do now. And while Granpa and Grandma were here now to help around the house there was only so much they could do as well, for they were not getting any younger.
Adding in the fact their father was no longer with them, it had left a very clear hole in their family, one that wasn't going to be filled anytime soon.
'Your gonna have to be the man of the house sooner than later son.' He recalled his Grandfather saying. 'A day will come when I too won't be here. Not today, not tomorrow, but someday…'
Those words played back in his head, making him wince. He wanted nothing more than to be with her, to help make her life easier. But he also wanted to see the world beyond their own walls, and make those titans pay for what they had done.
It had left him at an impasse in his mind, and it needed to be solved soon, for the recruitment drive was only weeks away, maybe even less as it had been some time since he last checked the dates.
"So…like I said earlier, you think he might know?"
A bit upset that he had dodged the question Mikasa just shrugged. "Maybe? He seems like he knows a lot. Probably has some tips about bad dreams."
Reflecting on her word his thoughts turned to the giant. The last time he had spoken to the man was that time when he had nearly collided with him, and where he had spoken for the first and last time with his father.
Since then, the Slayer had made himself busy with reclaiming the lands outside the walls, where Eren had heard and seen all sorts of things that had come from the giant. The animal pelts the scouts now wore that somehow fooled titans, their glowing blades that shined with the same blue glow as his eyes and tattoos, and the new cannons he saw Hannes and his Garrison crew man during the most recent expeditions.
And not to mention some of the stories the people from the Morning Star told on the weekends. It all spoke of his no doubt high knowledge and experience gained from the outside world.
That was another factor into his desire to join up, a chance to be by the side of the man who not only saved his mother, but the entire district. He wanted to fight by his side and reclaim the land that was long lost to humanity, and to finally see all those wonderful things that Armin had told him about.
And yet, those conflicting thoughts would come back again. What would happen if he did. Would his mother be alright? What if something happened to her while he was away? What if Grandpa and Grandma weren't there to help? God forbid something would happen to them as well!
Such thoughts caused his headache to begin resurfacing, causing him to start rubbing his temples and go back to bed. He asked Mikasa if she could get him another glass of water, a request she happily obliged.
Lying in his bed he closed his eyes and tried to push his conflicting thoughts aside. For he needed some more rest, for who knew how much more time he had before that blasted rooster from the neighbors began to squawk as if it was being murdered.
"CAW CAWWKKK!"
Eren swore to himself that one day he'd choke that chicken with his own bare hands.
-Tales from the Book of Maverick-
In a time and place most unknown, when the world was to be remade anew. God, The Almighty Father, wished to save his dear creations, and so he reached out from the high heavens to help.
While many reached out to their creator, there were some who did not accept God's offering. They saw fit to destroy the order that he sought to create for mankind.
God was confused. Why did they reject salvation?
Pride? Arrogance? Stupidity?
Regardless the Lord wished to save mankind, so he sent out his chosen creation, to hunt and root out the dissidents.
His chosen was the Azure Raven, a harbinger of doom that left a trail of destruction in its path.
It hunted and slayed until all those who sought chaos were silenced, joining the traitorous fallen in eternal damnation.
-Passage from the story The Azure Raven-
Here, the realm of Oblivion, did the two warriors come face to face.
Umaril the Unfeathered. Favored of the Daederic Prince Meridia, spawn of Et'ada, sorcerer king of the Aeylids.
Maverick Adad Henderson. Favored of the Nine, Chosen of Talos, knight of the Eternal Holy Sepulcher of Jerusalem, traveler from lands beyond.
One had fled from the mortal plain, as he had done so millennia's past, and the other had followed, eager to finish what his ancient predecessor had started.
No words were spared or spoken between them as they unsheathed their weapons. For they had done this bloody dance once, and they would do so again.
Only this time, only one would truly stand and the other would finally fall.
Already bested once the Unfeathered was adamant to slay the one who mockingly donned the armor of his previous slayer. As if the spirit of Pelinal Whistreak was here in the flesh again, and this time there were no other Aeylids nor Aurorans to avenge him.
Circling one another they once more picked and pried at their defenses. A feint sword strike here and a half charge there.
However the Unfeathered's patience would dissipate. With a snarling warcry in his ancient tongue he charged with unnatural speed, blade blazing with fiery light, ready to skewer and strike down the divine crusader.
The crusader would swiftly lift his shield, blessed by divine Julianos, to meet the demon's strike, with his mace blessed by divine Zenithar ready to deliver the true killing blow.
-Passage from the story The Divine Knight of the Nine-
A/N: Been some time again. Meant to post this earlier but the site was down for a few days. Another thing was that I had a fair number of burnouts while writing this chapter, the dialogue especially, so that took some time as well. Though I had a wonderful trip to Italy with the family in mid-August that helped somewhat to get me back in the writing mood. Then Space Marine 2 came out, and I also finally decided to get into NIKKE, so that once more took up a bit of my free time. Not to mention my usual day to day duties.
(And more than one of those lovely gacha gals may or may not be mentioned at some point in this story…)
But anyways here we are! As we see, it seems our warrior unit is starting to crack under their current situation. Bertholdt always struck me as the weakest of the three, despite his abilities, so it was obvious that in the wake of some overpowered deity running amok he would want to find a way off the ride, especially with his 'follower not a leader' mentality.
And it seems Eren is dealing with his own troubles as well. I imagine that any youth would have similar struggles in that situation, and Eren is no exception. Will he be able to find a compromise before the recruitment drive comes around? Only time will tell.
But that will have to wait for a time, as next chapter we'll be getting back to Maverick and his antics with the Survey Corps, till the next chapter!