Sillage

Chapter 13 - Indifference.

TW SWEARING/MAYBE A LITTLE BIT OF HORROR (IDK SKIP THE LAST PART IF YOU GET EASILY SCARED)

The crisp morning air infiltrates your nostrils and mouth, causing your airways to spasm in revolt. It almost feels as if millions of needles are stabbing your lungs at the same time, your need for oxygen exacerbated with every open-mouthed breath.

But you keep going.

Your calf muscles are increasingly burning with each step you take, almost on the verge of painfully cramping. Each thigh feels as heavy as a bag of concrete, urging you to slow down your pace, yet you vehemently refuse. Arms moving in the same rhythm as your legs, a stabbing pain in your left shoulder causes you to release a small wince among the loud gasps leaving your dry lips.

But you don't stop.

The spleen on your left side has been screaming in agony for the last couple of minutes, desperately calling for you to cease its torture. Your right flank soon followed, bile trying to climb its way up your esophagus. Luckily, your diaphragm denies its entrance, too busy contracting to aid your other respiratory muscles.

And you go forward.

The soles of your feet are almost numb, by the time you allow them to come to a halt, leaning against one of the castle's stone walls, trying to catch your breath. The coldness of the structure is welcomed against your heated body, despite the early chilliness of the first day of autumn. September 1 officially marks the end of summer, and the start of the colorful colder season of fall, when all life prepares for the deep winter slumber.

And all Scouts prepare for the next expedition outside the Walls. Training and preparations more rigorous and stricter as days pass by, the first of September also means that there are 6 remaining weeks until the 57th Expedition.

Expedition you still don't know if you're allowed to attend or not.

Mood turning sour, despite the adrenaline and endorphins coursing through your system after your morning run, you shut your eyes tight and throw your head back against the wall, body slowly sliding to the ground. The softness of the grass cushions your landing onto the hard soil, while the moisture of morning dew coats your training pants, instantly damping them and causing your bottom to go numb. Yet you don't concern yourself with that.

There is no visible cloud in the orange-hued sky, almighty sun slowly gathering its powers to deliver the heat of the afternoon. It is a beautiful early morning indeed, and if it weren't for your noisy fight for breath and your heartbeat pulsing in your ears, you are sure you could listen to the calming chirping of birds, and the gentle rustle of tree leaves in the prickling breeze.

Breathing finally slowing down, chest pain subsiding, and pulse returning to normal, you allow your eyelids to open and admire the never-ending sky above you, as well as the flight of birds migrating to warmer places. Your thoughts drift far away from the Scouts HQ, somewhere your body cannot reach, mind refusing to be contained behind walls.

You can't help but wonder about the birds' shelter during winter. Their wings carry them far and beyond outside the Walls, to a place humans wouldn't even dream about, thanks to the threat of the titans. Yet these animals can fly so high in the sky, they don't need to concern themselves with the fear of those flesh-eating giants.

Since you can remember, everyone around you was happy with just existing inside these cramped Walls. If they had food and water, entertainment and material things, they were content. Some said having gates to the outside world was pointless. While others even advocated for the sealing of those exits, due to fear of the monsters. Some religious ones opposed tempering with the gates, as if the 50-meters stone walls were sent from above by God Himself, while others emphasized the importance of access to the outside for the human race, saying that humanity is nothing but livestock, under the reign of the titans.