Class had finished for the day, and the sound of laughter and shuffling feet echoed through the playground as children eagerly awaited their parents' arrival.
Among them was a young blonde boy with striking sky-blue eyes. His face lit up with enthusiasm as he approached each of his classmates, animatedly sharing a theory his father had discussed with him.
Meanwhile, a young girl strolled restlessly, glancing around for her own father, a soldier in the military police. She was just about to turn the corner behind the classroom building when she paused, her ears catching snippets of conversation from two boys nearby.
"Erwin Isn't a theory like that impossible?" One boy questioned skeptically, his brow furrowed, his voice tinged with disbelief. "There's no way the government could have the ability to alter memories."
"But think about it!" the blond boy, Erwin, insisted, his gaze intense and fervent. He leaned in, his hands gesturing animatedly as he spoke. "The history we learn about the walls and humanity contradicts itself. Who's to say there aren't other people living beyond the walls?"
The second boy shook his head, his expression a mix of confusion and concern. "How could there possibly be anyone out there when there are hundreds of Titans roaming around? Plus, Mr. Smith didn't even answer your question during class. Is it really something we should be discussing?"
Eavesdropping from her hidden spot behind the building, the girl's eyes widened with intrigue. She remained concealed, her heart racing as she focused on the boys' conversation, particularly on the one with the shining blonde hair and bright blue eyes.
She didn't know them; they didn't attend the same school. Her own life revolved around the interior of Wall Sina, while these boys hailed from Wall Rose. Usually, children weren't allowed to accompany their parents to work—especially not military police—but her father had made an exception today.
Just as she was about to step forward and join their conversation, her father approached with another military officer. "Father," she thought, a wave of curiosity washing over her. She wondered why he had traveled all the way to Wall Rose instead of staying in Stohess, where he typically was.
"Excuse us," her father said, stopping the boys in their tracks. The boy who had been talking to Erwin turned pale, his eyes wide with apprehension.
"You wouldn't happen to be Mr. Smith's son, would you?" he asked, squinting slightly, studying Erwin's face.
"Yes, sir, that's me," Erwin replied, his voice steady and respectful.
"What's this theory we've been hearing about?" the officer questioned, raising an eyebrow, feigning interest while clearly skeptical. "We were quite intrigued and thought we'd hear it for ourselves."
The other officer beside him regarded Erwin with a sly look, as if trying to detect a lie. It seemed neither boy recognized the scrutiny.
With confidence, Erwin spoke up, detailing his father's theory—that the government possessed the ability to alter the memories of the citizens confined within the walls and that there was a possibility of other humans living outside.
For a moment, the soldiers were taken aback, surprise flickering across the girl's father's face, though his fellow officer struggled to suppress a laugh. Before the girl's father could voice his thoughts, the other soldier interrupted dismissively.
"Come on," he scoffed, a mocking tone in his voice. "Clearly, someone is being fed such foolish fairy tales. Maybe you should focus on what's being taught instead of wild theories that have no backbone."
"Let's go, Kile," he chuckled, turning away, dismissing them. "We've heard all we needed to."
Kile, the one who questioned the boy initially, didn't respond but felt a fleeting moment of guilt rise within him. He understood now why they needed to take Mr. Smith into custody—spreading such ideas was strictly forbidden.
"Kile, let's go," his fellow officer called again, snapping him back to the moment.
"Right," Kile nodded, and as he turned to leave, he noticed a brown boot peeking out from around the corner. But he didn't linger; he followed the other soldier as they made their way back toward the entrance of the school, leaving the boys.
...
By the time Leona peeked her head around again, nobody was standing there any longer.
She had overheard the entire conversation, and knowing her father was heading back to the entrance of the school, she turned on her heel, eager to run headed back to the cairrier wagens before he came back.. However, as she hurried forward, she collided with someone.
Stepping back in surprise, she looked up to meet her father's emerald green eyes, his brows furrowed in concern. "Leona!" he said, his tone a mix of surprise and reprimand, his broad shoulders squared.
"How many times do I have to tell ye? Yer were instructed to stay in the carrier!"
"I'm sorry," she murmured, her gaze dropping to the ground, cheeks flushing with guilt. "Ye were gone for so long, I admit I was bored. And... I've never been to this part of the walls before. I just wanted to look around."
Her father ran a hand through his tousled hair, exhaling a deep sigh that echoed his frustration. "As your father, I'm askin' you to please just do as I say next time." His voice softened slightly as he continued, "Come now, we're leavin'. Heading back to Stohess."
"Yes, Father," Leona replied, trailing dutifully behind him toward the carriers.
Once they reached them, he extended his hand, helping her inside. "Thank you, Father," she said, settling onto the plush red cushion, its warmth contridicting with her rising anxiety.
"Now don't go anywhere; stay put this time," he instructed firmly while shooting her a sharp glance.
"Yes, Father," she replied, biting her lip as she felt her excitement dwindle.
He turned away, and though she stayed seated as instructed, her mind raced with thoughts of the boy she had overheard earlier, the one her father had questioned.
''People beyond the walls'', she thought to herself, trying to recall his name—she was sure she had heard it, but it slipped through her mind like how water slips through the hand..
Outside the carrier, a cacophony of voices began to rise, enticing her curiosity once more. She was always a curious child, eager to understand how the world worked. Despite her father's order, she felt the tug of intrigue and snuck her head out of the carrier to see what was happening.
Four military police officers were gathered outside, one of them her father. They appeared to be escorting a man with glasses, short brown hair, and a beard. He wasn't handcuffed, but something felt off to Leona.
They were steering him toward a second carrier positioned behind hers, but the distance was too great for her to catch what was being said. One of the soldiers was pushing the man harshly inside, and
Leona's heart raced—who was he, and what had he done? To her young mind, it had to be something serious, especially with the military police involved. Her father was one of them, the ones who worked tirelessly to keep the interior safe from harm.
Leona watched intently, and for a fleeting moment, just before the man was fully seated, his eyes met hers. He gave her a kind smile, a small glimmer of warmth in an otherwise tense situation, before disappearing from view.
Quickly, she ducked her head back into the carrier as her father approached.
"Leona, we're headin' back now," he said as he entered the carrier, taking a seat beside her.
...
Traveling back to Stohess, Kile was relieved to be released from his military duties for the day, and he and Leona headed straight home, their spirits high.
As they reached the welcoming embrace of their house, the door swung open, revealing her mother's warm smile. "Welcome back home, dears!" Her voice rich with affection.
"Hello, Mother!" Leona replied brightly, her eyes sparkling with joy as she stepped inside.
"Hello, dear," Kile said, leaning in to plant a gentle kiss on Diana's lips, his expression softening as he glanced at her, cherishing the moment before they entered together.
After washing up and changing into comfortable clothing suitable for relaxing around the house, Leona slipped into the living room where her Grandmother Ruth sat quietly in a well-worn rocking chair. The rhythmic creaking of the chair accompanied the soft rustle of pages as Ruth read a book held delicately in her hands.
Occasionally, a flicker of confusion would cloud her grandmother's eyes, memory slipping away like sand through fingers. Yet, one thing remained constant: she continually read the same book, its cover faded and its pages soft from years of loving use.
Curiosity often tugged at Leona's mind about the tale woven within those pages, but her grandmother always kept it close, as if it were a treasure too valuable to share. When Leona had inquired of her parents, they merely chuckled, assuring her that it was just a trivial fairy tale, unworthy of her inquisitive mind.
But Leona loved history and the adventure of words, so while waiting for dinner to be ready, she wandered over to the towering bookshelves, brushing her index finger along the spines of countless books, the dust of forgotten stories dancing in the air. Her brow furrowed in concentration, uncertain about which story she sought.
Suddenly, her finger halted at a history book tucked away on the shelf. The earlier conversation she overheard echoed in her mind: "The history we learn about the walls and humanity contradicts itself."
Just as she was about to reach for the book, her grandmother's voice broke through the stillness. "Little Leona, is that you?" The gentle, raspy tone beckoned her.
Leona paused, turning to look at her grandmother, whose gaze was fixed on her, the book resting in her lap, opened to a well-loved page.
"Yes, Granaidh," Leona replied, her heart fluttering with warmth.
"Come here, my dear," Ruth said, her lips curling into a sweet smile that radiated kindness. Leona felt a surge of happiness; it had been quite a while since her grandmother had remembered her name so clearly.
"My, how much you have grown," Ruth remarked softly as Leona approached her, letting the book fall easily into her lap. Ruth's hand reached out, tenderly cupping Leona's cheek, the touch gentle and fleeting, as if it were a precious moment to be savored.
A well of tears formed in Leona's eyes, knowing all too well how fragile these moments with her grandmother could be.
"Why are you crying, my dear?" Ruth asked, concern lacing her voice. "Seeing how much you've grown, I think it's time I share my book with you. I'm sure you'd appreciate it the most," she said softly, her gaze enthralling Leona.
Leona's eyes widened in surprise and wonder as she looked down at the book nestled in her grandmother's lap. For a fleeting second, images of mesmerizing places she'd never seen before seemed to flicker to life in her mind.
"Granny, what is the book that you've been reading?" Leona questioned eagerly filling up the curiosity inside her.
"A very precious one. One that tells of the outside world," Ruth replied, her expression imbued with a sense of mystery.
The outside world! sparkled in Leon's eyes, and her grin widened with the thrill of discovery. But a sudden wave of dread washed over her as she remembered that a book like this was illegal to possess.
Questions bubbled up inside her, yearning to be voiced, when her father's voice rang out from the doorway.
"Leona, dinner's ready!"
"Help your Nana to the table," he instructed, an undertone of authority threading through his tone.
"Yes, Father," Leona called back, her heartbeat quickening with conflicting emotions.
"Come on, Granaidh, it's time for dinner," Leona said softly, reaching out to take her grandmother's hand, her fingers brushing against the warm, weathered skin of her cheek.
"If he asks, no uttering a word to your father," Ruth whispered, catching Leona off guard with her serious tone. Confusion flickered across Leona's face, but as she glanced back at the book, the weight of its secrets pressed heavier on her mind.
Leona simply nodded, heart racing anew as she helped her grandmother rise from the chair. With gentle concern etched into her features, she guided her to the dinner table, where Ruth clutched the book tightly in her hands, protective as if it were her lifeline.
...
A/N: Thank you to anyone who read through the first part. I just wanted to say that my OC, Leona Mackenzie, in this story comes from a Scottish background, so there will be times when I will put emphasis on her accent and use Gaelic.
Also, I myself am not Scottish, so I will try my best through research, and of course, if any readers are from Scotland, your feedback would be much appreciated.