the hilt | eren jaeger

t h i r t y t w o

Mourning.

Mourning was all that existed in this beautiful spring dawn.

The dewdrops on the lily pads were imbued with something cold to the touch. The flies that buzzed in droves in the forests had gone silent. The mud on the bottoms of boots had hardened. 

There was loss in the air. Unearthly loss. Unparalleled, unstructured loss.

This would not go unnoticed, he thought, the heavens will notice this pain. This agony. This revolting world. It will be torn to shreds from bottom up. It will not know the sight of open lands and plains. Only the endless ebb and flow of waves will serve as a reminder of the glories this world once held.

The early morning that Eren woke up, he knew it was wrong. He knew, deep within, that something was not how it should be. The sun had not yet risen. The world was still bathed in darkness. The moon was not out on this night. Eren knew that this world was not as it usually was.

And he was right. 

He was awake before all the others would be. He knew that. He knew where she'd be at this time. He knew her like no other.

His feet carried him there. Past doors upon doors, wooden plank upon wooden plank. Calloused hands pushed past the counters and chairs in his way. He might've made bushels of noise. He did not care if he had. 

He found himself in the kitchen, looking desperately for her. But with each turn of his head, there was no one. It was silent. It was quiet. It was empty. The dishes were still on the drying rack from the night before.

She was not there.

He racked his brain.

It had to be a coincidence, he thought. It must just not be her turn to prepare breakfast, he thought. His hands clenched his hair, ripping out a few strands in agony. His face went numb. His breaths were cold. 

Even with the heat that his Titan powers always brought him, he was chilled to the bone. 

The next place he found himself was the path to the top of the bell tower. His hands clung rung after rung, grappling his way to the top. She would watch the sunrise there sometimes, he knew. He figured this was where she had to be. If not here, then where?

It was empty at the top. Regardless of the bell and its many configurations and ropes, he was the only living, breathing soul up there. He looked down at his shaking hands.

"She wouldn't have left without saying goodbye first." He reassured himself, but he was trying to convince himself more than anything. "She knows that I'm sorry, right?" His voice at the level of a murmur.

A tear rolled down his cheek.

He rubbed at his left forearm. He tried to make his teeth stop chattering. He set off to the next place she could be.

He found himself under the tree that overlooked a lake. This was where he first understood her. This was where they made promises to each other. This was where he knew that she was irreplaceable. This was where they would lay for hours on end. This was the place where the grass did not grow in their seats. This was the place that they would soundly nap in. This was the place where sunlight bathed her nose and cheekbones. This was the place where he learned that there was more to the world. This was the place where he looked at her, and recognized her beauty, for the first time. This was where- This was- This- This was not the place where she was currently.

He fell to his knees, grass staining the fabric of his pants.

How he had gotten this far from camp in such a short time, he did not know. Time did not matter to him anymore. It was still dark out; but he knew.