At Your Service || 𝕝𝕖𝕧𝕚 𝕩 𝕡𝕝𝕦𝕤 𝕤𝕚𝕫𝕖 𝕙𝕚𝕤𝕡𝕒𝕟𝕚𝕔 𝕠𝕔

Chapter One

I was only seven when I first saw the Survey Corps. I remember so vividly, peeking out from the back of our family wagon, my father riding his horse beside us. My brother, who was only 10 steering the wagon, my mother beside him. I always stayed in the back, usually looking at the vast scenery and tall trees, listening to the cadence of the gravel as it crunched beneath the wooden wheels.

That was when I heard the sound of what seemed like thousands of hooves marching towards us and the occasional "How do you do?" coming from my father.

I turned and there they were. My eyes stayed on the Survey Corps as they passed

Their uniforms, the horses, the grandiose stature most of them carried as they marched by our family's wagon.

The man in front, who I could only assume was their leader, nodded towards my father and mother. So many soldiers followed him, of course, I was seven and couldn't count past fifty-two. There could have been more, there could have been less.

I remember a young man with blue eyes and blonde hair passed by on his horse. He nodded at me and smiled with a wave. At that time, I thought he was so much older; looking back, he was probably no more than 19.

I was in pure awe.

From that point on, I wanted to join them. I wanted to be them.

Unfortunately, that never happened. I was always on the heavier side when it came to my weight. A round and curvy build was something I always dealt with, but that wouldn't make it in training. For years I tried to slim down yet by the time I was twelve, I didn't reach the weight requirement.

So instead, I worked with my father and mother, making damascene jewlery, guns for farmers or occasionally bullets for our guns.

We never stayed in one place for too longer, but for the time being, we stayed in a little village in the southernmost part of Wall Rose. It was a nice pace, very different from our usual life on the trails.

I was 12 years old, it was cool morning as I sat on the dusty ground near the barn where my family's smithing equipment stood. Our home was just across the way; only one great room, like a kitchen and bedroom combined.

Even though the weather was comfortable, sweat still beaded on my brow, some strands of my black, wavy hair sticking to it like glue. Behind me, I could hear my father pounding hot metal against an anvil.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

While my brother, Emilio, melted scraps of metal into pure liquid by the scorching fire

Bang! Bang! Bang!

I tried to pay no mind to the commotion as I twisted my damascene ring around my finger, my eyes fixated on a group of other 12 year olds leaving the village. They were to join the Training Corps: to live my dream. I could barely make out what they were saying, but I knew they were headed to the Trost District.

As I stared at the kids saying goodbye to their families, I was interupted by the sound of my brother's voice.

"Mariana!"

I turned and looked up to see Emilio towering over me, wiping his brow with his arm. His hair was as black as night, thick, the waves of hair touched the top of his ears. He and I both looked alike, brown eyes and sun kissed olive skin. He was 16 years old at the time and every young girl at the village wanted to be courted by him.

"The fuck are you doing?" He scoffed with a laugh

He always had a tendency to be a joker.

"Shut up" I snarled, knowing he was going to pick on me