Deluge of Desolation | l. ackerman

Testaments

"Too often we...enjoy the comfort of opinion without the discomfort of thought." 

John F. Kennedy


(chapter seven)

Throwing my notebooks down, I let my body fall limp onto the mess hall's table and groan. The fall of dusk was just around the corner. Few soldiers remained in the hall, chatting quietly amongst themselves and wiping their plates clean. In the last moments of the sun's reign, its rays seep into the room through the large windows I sat by, warming the atmosphere from the day's brisk temperatures.

All soldiers of the Scouting legion were informed by the newly appointed Commander, Erwin Smith, that today was to be used as a day of rest as we just recently returned from the first reconnaissance expedition following the fall of Wall Maria; which was, namely, my first ever expedition as a Scout. The operation was not a success, which came to no surprise for anyone, and our already very few men began to run thin after the expedition.

My squad faced no casualties, only a few injuries from Felix, who's a few years my senior, and Gerard, the best seasoned soldier on our squad, but nothing lethal. I had planned on using this time to broaden my research and theories but our captain, Kemmerich, had opposing plans.

Rather than using this day as rest, the damned scruffy man decided to make us better our endurance skills because we, verbatim, "held the permanence of a battered midget mare".

A glare did not leave my face that day, not even when I sat down, bathed and fed, free from my duties for the night. Rather, It only worsened as Felix came skipping into the hall, humming a tune and sitting next to me as if he thought I would want to see him, of all people, now.

"Can't you see that I'm busy, Felick?"

Noticing the papers that lay scattered just in front of him, he smiles, "Doesn't seem too important, Juney Gloom!"

"It's certainly more important than whatever you have to say."

"I just wanted to congratulate you." His grin was boyish. 

"I've done nothing to be congratulated for." My frown was hidden in my crossed arms.

"Well, sure you have!" Felix lifted his hands, emphasizing his statement. "You survived today's training! Only so many are lucky enough to say that with Kemmerich as captain."

"Oh, well, if we're going that route then I'd like to congratulate you, as well, Felix."

"For what?"

"Successfully ruining my mood even more." I drop my eyes into the contents of my journals, once again.

"It's what strives me to do better, Pal!" He chuckles, shaking his head in a bashful manner.

I scoff at him and reply, "Great, just what I need; a dog to follow and pester me 'til my dying breath. What more could I possibly ask for?"

Ignoring my comment, the man finally brings his gaze down to the table. "What'cha reading?"

"Journals."

"About?"

"Research."

"...About?" Felix persists. My lips threaten to curve upwards at the familiar conversation.

"Since you're just dying to know, why don't you look yourself?" I click my tongue instead of letting myself become too sentimental of my late father.

"Great idea, Pal!" Felix greedily swiped a book from my hands.