Chapter 1: The Piano Knows Something I Don’t Know
Summary:
After 3 years on the frontline of fighting Marley’s wars, Dallon Vordeaux returns home to his family in the Liberio internment zone.
Notes:
Finally getting this thing on Ao3! I hope you guys like it, I never wrote anything original before so give me feedback if you have any. Not looking for a million reads or anything, this story has been in my mind for many years now so it’s first & foremost a personal passion project. No idea if it’ll ever be completed, hopefully someday but with how slow my writing has been, who knows. If I had to vaguely gauge it, it should end around chapter 100. I’m trying to make a story that satisfies me, feels impactful, opens up the world of Attack on Titan and could be seen as canon. Hope y'all enjoy!
Chapter Text
This instrument will always be your home.
This instrument will become your tomb.
Febuary 11th, 832
“Is it ok if I stay and practice for a while sir?” The young boy asks, setting up the last of the chairs for the night.
“Yes Brodi, just make sure to lock up when you’re done.” Brodi thanks Mr. Zelmann and walks over towards the piano he plays for the customers of his restaurant. He looks at the clock.
[“It’s 9:24, I shouldn't take too long, I don’t want to worry mom.”] Brodi thinks to himself. He sits down on the piano bench and begins playing. The once empty and silent room is now filled with the echoing of beautiful piano keys, while the blueish streams of moonlight inviting themselves in through the windows, are bathing the room in their glow.
9:30…9:45…10:15…10:30…
The door opens, but Brodi is too in his element to notice. A man walks in, one with short, kept, brown hair, parting to the left. He leans on the wall near the entrance, gazing at and admiring Brodi’s musical talent. Brodi realizes how late it’s gotten and abruptly stops.
“Is that a new one? I loved it.” The man says. Brodi swings his head in his direction. After a second of hesitation, not believing what he’s seeing, it hits him.
“Dallon!!” He yells in excitement & disbelief. Brodi runs toward his big brother, both of them embrace with watery eyes.
“W-when did you get here?!” He asks.
“About an hour ago.” Dallon replies.
“How’d you come back? Don’t they send everyone home all at once?” Asks Brodi.
“It’s a long story, I’ll tell you later. You’ve grown so much, you’re 13 now right? A young man. Great, I come home just in time for your awkward puberty years, you probably don’t even know what that is don’t you?” He asks.
“I know what it is, I’m not 10 anymore.” Says Brodi.
“I can tell, your piano skills have gotten so much better. You still haven’t answered me from earlier.” Dallon says.
“Hm? Yeah it’s a new one, kinda felt like deja vu playing it.” Says Brodi.
“You’ve been playing for as long as you could get a chance, I’m sure songs tend to overlap. Come on, let’s head home, mom and Lylee are pretty worried.” Brodi grabs his coat, flat cap, and locks the entry door on their way out. The two reunited brothers walk the dark and cold winter streets to their apartment.
“How’d you know I was there?” Brodi asks.
“Mom told me, after she stopped crying. I’m glad you got a job there and not in some factory. Getting paid for doing something you actually love, not a lot of people get that opportunity, especially here in the internment zone. Onyx is a good old man.” He replies.
“Yeah. There’s, something you should know.” Brodi says, stopping in the middle of the road.
“What? What happened?” Asks Dallon.
“I-I don’t know if this is a good time to tell you but, it was shortly after you left, there were a couple Marleyan guards walking the streets, they were either drunk or having a bad day and, they-they caught Kat and Preston out late at night without their armbands and, they just started shooting. That’s what the newspaper said, and that they saw them carrying guns, witnesses said they weren’t. I-I’m sorry for bringing it up, I should’ve told you later.” He explains. Dallon puts his hand on his head, while close to drawing tears again.
“No it’s…it’s best to get it over with…
…goddamnit.” Dallon softly adds. He starts walking again, and Brodi too. They share a walk in silence for a minute. Dallon lets the news simmer in his mind, of course finally coming home couldn’t come without a catch. All he can do now is reminisce on the good memories of their long time family friends.
“I still remember hoping for Mrs. Zelmann to come over to change your diapers so I wouldn’t have to, and Lylee would make any excuse to get out of there. She loved being the baby. Preston would have his hands full trying to stop us from killing each other. How’d you know all this, did mom tell you? He asks.
“Yeah, after Mr. Zelmann told her some time later, he’s never been the same since. I don’t get it, you know what they do to us and you still fight for them, why?” Dallon stops and places his hands on Brodi’s shoulders.
“I know you’re upset, I am too, and the older you get the more you’re gonna realize just how bad it is. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you sooner, but I need to show them that we’re not expendable, and if that means fighting for them like dad then that’s what I’ll do. I hate it, but just know everything I do I do it for you, mom, and Lylee. And to stay on dad’s good side, you and I both know he’s changed.” Dallon responds.
The boys start to walk again.
“What do you think dad will do if he finds out how we think?” Asks Brodi.
“I don’t know, and I don’t know if I wanna figure that out. Just keep playing it safe, like we always have.”
The Vordeaux brothers return to their apartment block and up to their home on the 3rd floor.
“We’re back.” Announces Dallon. Gladys rushes over and hugs them.
“There you are! You had me worried sick Brodi!” She exclaims, but not too harshly.
“I’m Sorry, I was practicing and I got carried away.” He explains.
“Just try and keep an eye on the time, it can be dangerous that late at night.” Gladys enforces. Brodi’s stomach starts to growl.
“Is there any leftovers? I’m a bit hungry.” Asks Brodi.
“We saved you some, you and your brother can share it. I think we need to celebrate a little for Dallon’s homecoming, then it’s straight to bed.” She says.
“You really picked the wrong day to be late Brodi, maybe we should trade places so mom wouldn’t be so worried.” Lylee chimes in, leaning back in the dining chair. Brodi stares at her with a look of annoyance.
“Hey, just saying.” She says.
“If I’d known you were coming then I would’ve tried to make a cake or something.” Says Gladys.
“It’s fine mom, plus it’s too expensive.” Dallon and Brodi eat their dinner as they all share the candlelit table.
“Now we just gotta wait for dad to come home, whenever that’ll be, he’ll be glad to see you.” Lylee mentions.
“He’s still arbitrary with visits I see.” Says Dallon.
“He’s a very busy man in the MPS, if it wasn’t for him I would have to get a second job to support you kids.” Gladys says.
“I know, I just wished they’d stop working him so much so it could be more like the old days. I’d like Brodi to spend more time with the the more spirited side of him, not the tired and wanting our bedroom spotless side.” He says.
“I’d like that too, I know he’s become more strict over the years but he just wants the best out of you kids, you seen how happy he was when you went and volunteered yourself.” Says Gladys.
“Yeah, I know.” Dallon says with a somber tone.
“You really gotta thank Marley too, we’d probably be in the slums by now if it wasn’t for them.” Chips in Lylee.
“Speaking of which, my friend’s family lives in the bad part of town. I should go and see how they’re doing.” Says Dallon.
“Maybe me & Brodi can come with, if it’s ok with you.” Says Lylee, turning her head towards their mom for the ok.
“I don’t know, maybe we can send a letter first? I just don’t want any of you getting hurt, especially now that your brother is back.” She says.
“Well it’s not like we’re going tomorrow, plus I’m sure an experienced veteran like Dal can protect us if anybody tries to jump us.” Says Lylee.
“You still need to tell us everything that happened out there.” Brodi reminds them. Dallon stretches and looks at the clock.
11:47
“It’s getting late, I’ll tell you guys sometime tomorrow.” He says stretching. Gladys glances at the clock as well.
“Oh my, it’s almost midnight.”
Dallon tries to pick up his and Brodi’s plates but mom grabs them.
“Don’t worry, I got it.” She assures him.
“Mom, it’s alright, it’s just a couple of plates.” He says.
“…Ok sweetie, get some rest ok?” She says softly with a loving smile, still taking in that her firstborn is back, where he belongs. Dallon sets the plates on the counter so mom could get one more hug in before bed, her fingers brushing the hair on the back of his head. She doesn’t need words to tell him everything is alright. Brodi & Lylee join in, embracing their long lost brother, making him & Gladys shed a few more tears. Dallon dries his wetted eyes. His mom kisses him on his cheek.
They all tell each other their ‘good nights’ and final ‘I love you’s of the day. Dallon cleans up those plates and places them in the cupboard. He turns around, leaning against the counter, his eyes soaking in the room. It doesn't feel real. It doesn’t feel, right. He’d forgotten of the silence of Liberio at night. No more pops of gunfire from miles away, screams of terror by his comrades or enemy combatants. No more whistles of artillery raining overhead, no more nights of paranoia, waiting to awaken to a bayonet.
For now, for once, that worry resides as a shadow behind his mind. He’s uncertain if that'll ever fully fade. The marching of the clock, what once drove him mad as a kid, now gives him comfortability. The rhythmic ticking returning a memory each second like a projector changing slides, Dallon stands unknowingly there for minutes, he places his hand on the side of his stomach, taking in what could’ve been something he’d never see again, home.
To be continued…
Preview
Year 829
Dallon recounts his first experience on the battlefield fresh out of training, as well as his new found friends.
Next Chapter: The Battle of Mereham
Chapter 2: The Battle of Mereham
Summary:
Dallon shares his traumatic first encounter out on the battlefield with his newly kindled friendship.
Chapter Text
829, Liberio Naval Base
Row after row of fresh cut Eldians, plucked from internment zones around the country, stand in their uniforms under the drizzle.
“I AM COLONEL KURTH!! AND I WILL BE LEADING THIS BATTALION OF YOU DEVILS BACK TO HELL!!
“IF YOU CAN DO A DAMN THING TO HELP US WIN THIS WAR, FROM BURNING THE SHIT FROM MAKESHIFT SHITTERS OR DROWNING THE ENEMY IN YOUR DEGENERATE BLOOD, THEN YOU MIGHT EARN AN OUNCE OF MY RESPECT!!”
“NOW GET IN A STRAIGHT LINE AND BOARD THOSE GODDAMN SHIPS!!”
The newly trained battalion of 450 recruits march up the ramps to most of them’s first time on such a vessel. Uncertain expectations laying behind the sea, the fleet make way southeastward.
“At some point I couldn’t tell if rain or spit was hitting me. We knew it was going to be a long voyage, but I don’t think anybody knew how miserable it would end up. Most of us cadets never been on a ship before, so unfortunately a lot of them learned of sea sickness the hard way. With that many kids, I’m sure you can imagine how bad it got. Most of them were young, around 13-18. Keep in mind this was the year before the Warrior program, so a lot if not most had their eyes fixed on becoming Shifters. I couldn’t really blame them.”
“How long will this voyage be sir?” Theo Magath asks, entering the bridge.
“It’s gonna be a while, sergeant. They can hold until we get there, they’ve got the Armored and Jaw in their back pocket.” Says Col. Kurth. Magath faces the horizon with a confident smirk. Down below, Dallon and the rest of the recruits get situated into their beds. Dallon mentally preparing for what’s to come. Another young man, whose bed is next to his asks.
“So, where you from?”
“Uh, Liberio.” Dal tells him.
“Shit, really? Same here. My family had to move there several months ago.” He says. Dallon is a bit dumbfounded.
“You lived outside the walls?” He asks.
“Yeah, we lived on a small farm about 100km inland. We were pretty secluded but thought it’d be best taking our chances and go willingly, rather than being stumbled upon and asked to do a blood test or something.”
“This is my first time out of the city. What part of the zone are you guys in?” Asks Dal.
“Practically a shanty town, something breaks with every door slam. Felt it comin’ the more they talked it up, even at the start I could tell they were bullshittin’, not like it mattered.” He says.
“Try not to talk like that out loud. I don’t want the first person I get to know be thrown overboard.” Says Dal.
“I’m the first one? After 3 months of training?” He asks.
“Pretty much, no offense but I’m just trying to look out for my family, I’m guessing you’re doing the same?”
“Yeah, hopefully I can get them out of that place. I never caught your name by the way.” He mentions. The two comrades shake hands.
“Dallon, Vordeaux” “Zent Bochs”
After a few days of steel cutting through sleeping waves. In a town near the coast by the name of Mereham, not too far off the Marleyan border. A stalemate ensues between Marley and the forces of Ukarry.
The ships dock at a small beach landing, and the hundreds of greenhorns pour out onto the nearby field in a relatively orderly fashion. A lieutenant and some other officers are there to meet Col. Kurth. He salutes and shakes his hand.
“You must be Col. Kurth. Lt. Calvi sir, if you’d follow me up to base. It’s just near the entrance of town.” Says Calvi. The 450 Eldian unit stand put, eyes and ears keeping keen awaiting their first orders. Over the hill, Kurth, Calvi, and co return to their makeshift base of tents.
“What’s the situation?” Asks Kurth.
“Well, they’ve been hitting the town with artillery and mortars for days, Colonel. We’re low on ammo and men, but I have no suspicion to think they know that. They’ve yet to launch a full assault, it’s mostly been skirmishes in and around Mereham, for what reason we’re not certain. Artillery tends to come in waves of heavy and light rain. They’re using high explosive shells, I’m not risking losing one of the Nine. Many good Marleyans died these past few days, so I’m wanting you to send a squad into town, try and reach a vantage point, find the source of that artillery unit, take note of their coordinates, and get your asses back here in one piece so we can rain hell on them with the warships.” The commander says.
“Why not go around? Send the shifters in through the back and wipe them out?”
Asks Kurth.
“They have the geographical advantage, they have a surrounding hill and a tree line. We can’t flank them from an open field, an open field with rigged explosives ready to take off the feet of a titan. They were well prepared for this.” Says the commander.
Kurth lets out a gruff
“Hmm.” He turns to his officers.
“Sgt. Magath, I’m trusting this assignment to you.”
“Anyone in particular?” Theo asks.
“No, just make sure they don’t get us killed.” Col. Kurth hands him a clipboard with a list of names of all the members of this battalion.
Magath walks up the small hill looking down upon the anxious, the fearful, the eager.
“I will be calling upon a select group to undertake a mission that could decisively win this battle!! Listen up!!” Quiet as oversized mice, they were. His finger walks the page, while God chooses their fates.
“Private Conure Beals!!”
Dallon recalls that name from training, a kid, only 13. Beals nestled in deep with the eager. Proud and ready.
“Private Zent Bochs!!”
The newfound friends catch each other with eyes of worry. Magath flips a page.
“Private Yulia Etthardt!!”
Her eyes widen a little more, but otherwise stays sturdy. Magath picks the final subject.
“Private Dallon Vordeaux!!”
His breathing becomes sporadic, his eyes wide open, 4 out of 450, lucky him.
“The rest of you make yourself useful and unload those ships! Squad! Over here!” He orders. They jog up the hill, Dal and Zent giving each other looks of “what the hell just happened?” They regroup around a map of Mereham spread out on a table.
“Our mission is recon, only fire if necessary. We’ll make our way through the alleyways toward the north end of town. That should give us the most cover from the mortars. From there we find the most suitable high ground and pinpoint where their artillery team are dug in. Once spotted we head here so the warships can knock them out. Watch your asses, there are still soldiers in town, enemy and friendly. Check rifles and ammo. Alright, looks like the bombing died down, follow me!”
The entrance of town is mostly safe from artillery and gunfire, they move in easily through alleyways and broken buildings. They come across some wounded Marleyan soldiers holed up in a house.
“Can you walk?” Magath asks.
“Barely, I got a piece of stuck in my damn leg. I think he’s got a concussion.” The soldier says.
“Pvt. Etthardt, take these men back the way we came and get them some medical attention, you think a devil like you can handle that?”
“Yes sir.” She replies, and hoists up the one with the wounded leg, arm around shoulder.
“Great, what’s the world coming to?” He says, the concussed follows close, holding his head. Pvt. Beals pokes his head out the window.
“Uh, sir, I see a church up ahead, we can use the bell tower to get a good view.”
“It looks pretty banged up, are you sure you wanna go up there?” Dallon mentions.
“Seems to be the highest point in town, alright, Vordeaux you take point, me, Bochs and Beals will cover you to the church, you’ll go up and we’ll guard the bottom.”
“Yes sir.”
Luckily, they face no resistance making it in. Everything seems clear inside, Magath gestures him to go up. Dal gulps down his fear, and creeps his way up the spiral staircase. Unbeknownst to him, a sniper is positioned up there, unfortunately on the opposite side where Dallon comes out. The alleyways made good cover from the Ukarran marksman. On the final handful of steps the sniper notices the creaks from behind, and swings his head like a well oiled swivel, yells and lunges at Dallon with his bayoneted rifle!
Dallon just barely noticing, dodges to the side, almost falling off. He wasn’t as quick as he’d hoped, the side of his stomach gets grazed fairly deep. The sniper goes for the head, he ducks! And the blade gets stuck in the support beam! Before Dal can raise his rifle, the sniper kicks him in his trigger hand, sandwiching it between boot and wood! It hurts like hell. His hand loses its grip on his gun, leaving him exposed!
They both hear a yelling in the distance, a language unknown to Dallon, something told him it wasn’t gonna be anything good, and he’d be right. The bombing continues, and harder than ever! The coastal town continues on its path to be sunk.
“THEY'RE BOMBING AGAIN!! WE HAVE TO GO!!” Yells Magath.
“WHAT ABOUT DALLON?!” Asks Zent!
“HE’S DONE FOR!! LEAVE HIM!!” Magath commands. Zent looks at the staircase, ready to bolt for it.
“YOU TWO GO!! I’LL SAVE HIM!!” Conure states. The sarge hesitates, but gives him the OK. Magath and Zent run out as quickly and as cautiously as they can! The rolling thunder of artillery hit very close to the church. Conure runs to and up the start of the stairs, confident yet fearful behind the curtains.
[“They have to make me a Shifter o-or at least give me a medal for this! Dad will finally be proud of me!”] He thinks to himself.
With an opening at hand, Dallon tackles the sniper into one of the support beams, cracking it! The belfry is already damaged due to past trauma, it starts to lean a bit. The bell is starting to come loose but remains in place. The marksman falls to the floor but not knocked out. Before Dallon could finish him off, a shell impacts a lower portion of the belfry! Dal stumbles.
“DON’T WORRY! I’M COMING!” Shouts Pvt. Beals! Conure, halfway up, sees the tower snapping in half around him! There’s nothing to do but run back. He can’t save Dallon. The belfry is holding by a thread! Conure runs out the front double doors, he looks up, trying to catch his comrade’s situation, but all he can see is a hurling curvature of copper, the bell has come loose!
“AH!!-“
He could barely let out a scream before it hit him. The poor kid is killed instantly. The momentum of the bell’s detachment was the metaphorical straw for this tall wooden camel. The belfry is quickly joining the rest of its fallen neighbors! With the Ukarran sniper barely back on his feet, Dallon quickly reacts and grasps the sniper’s collar, and uses him to brace his own fall! Dal and the sniper get dragged down with the tower, it crashes into the ground below, splinters and dust fill the war torn street.
Dallon awakes after several seconds, his eyes a fogged and head uncorked. The steps of giants walk all around him. Afar, a frantic floating spirit drifts toward him, throwing muffled maddening whims. Every second, pink piece after pink piece connects.
“??????!! ??? ??? ?????!! ?????? ?AY SOMETHING!! WE NEED TO GO NOW!!” Zent slumps Dal’s arm around his shoulder. Dallon puts his hand on the side of his pained head, he looks at his hand and sees red. Through his fingers he sees the bell, sunk deep into dirt, flesh and bone. Contorting the kid into something that the human body should not look like.
“..B…Beals?..” He says. What wit he’s recovered has gone and been replaced with a horrific sight he’ll never forget.
“C’mon!! Don’t look at him!!” Zent exclaimed. Dallon uses his free hand to apply pressure to his wound. They run cautiously back to base, and welcomed by a pissed off sergeant.
“I got him sir! He’s been hur-“ Magath slugs him in the face. Knocking him on his ass.
“I specifically told you NOT to get him! You could’ve both gotten killed!! Don’t you DARE disobey orders you Eldian dogs!!” He scolds.
“With *pant* all do respect, sir, *pant* I’d be dead if it wasn’t for him, *pant* sir.” Dallon tells him.
“Beals isn’t with you, I’m assuming he’s dead then. Vordeaux, you better have gotten a damn good look while you were up there.”
“Yeah, right before a sharpshooter almost gutted me.” He informs him.
“Alright, you did good today soldier. Bochs, get him to the colonel, then to a medical tent.” Zent wipes the blood from his upper lip.
“..Yes sir.”
After Dallon marks the area on the commander’s map, he goes and gets put back together. Zent somberly remarks:
“Not how I thought our first day would go. How about you? ….Dallon?”
“….sorry, I just, …I never seen a dead body before… I can’t get him out of my head. Not just the kid, but the guy who almost killed me. He looked terrorfied as we fell. Like he wanted to call for help but he knew nothing could be done.” Dallon realizes his right hand is shaking a little, he grabs it with his other, and lets out a barely relieving sigh.
“What the hell have we gotten ourselves into Zent?”
“ALL ELDIAN RECRUITS!! COME TO ME THIS INSTANT!!” Rages Col. Kurth.
“What the hell does he want now?” Says Zent. They both mix in with the crowd.
“We’ve found a traitor in our midst!! Weeded out and confirmed by Sgt. Magath!!” The crowd shares a mix of confusion, curiosity, and anger.
“What?” Dallon says to himself. There’s a soldier with an hood over their head, tied to a tree, terrified and squirming. Several meters away stands a firing squad. Magath walks over and yanks the hood off, it’s private Yulia Etthardt. She’s in tears, breathing sporadically and scared to death.
“We’ve stumbled upon some brave wounded soldiers, and I ordered this devil to escort them back here for medical attention! When I returned I asked her if she had done what I simply ordered! She told me a mortar had struck their position and finished them off. I quickly noticed the lack of injury she sustained. After dealing with the other members of my squad, I went back in and found their corpses under rubble in a partly destroyed house. On closer inspection of both bodies, I found deep stab wounds under their arms, piercing their lungs! Heinous crimes like this shall never go unpunished!” Says Magath.
Colonel Kurth takes a step forward.
“Let this be a lesson for you Eldians who still oppose us!! Most of you know of the horrific crimes your kind brought upon humanity, and want to atone! But some of you still want to play victim! Some of you still want to plunge the world back into the hell it once was! Let this be a constant reminder.” Kurth unsheathes his officer sword, and lifts it over his head, ready to give the order. The firing squad firmly plant their feet.
“Ready!!”
“Aim!!”
“FIRE!!”
“LONG LIVE SACRED ELDIA!”
*Gunshots*
To be continued…
Preview
3 years under him and his comrade’s belts, Dallon recalls his cold and almost fatal experience of coming home.
Next Chapter: Stygian Street
Chapter 3: Stygian Street
Summary:
3 years have passed since enlistment. While defending a munitions cache, Dallon and his friends ache of returning home, though for one of them, a trip home might be closer than they’d think.
Chapter Text
“That war, if you’d even call it that, wasn’t much of a war at all. The Battle of Mereham was simply a ploy by a rogue general of the Ukarran army. He let his hatred of Marley consume him, and tried to spark a war between the two conflicting nations. Even tricking other commanders and troops into believing Marley fired first. The leaders of Ukarry quickly notified Marley and a truce was made, and the battle was over. Both nations were able to get their dead and wounded out of the streets. Shortly after, the rogue general was captured, quickly trialed, and hanged, thus ending the conflict between the two countries.
As compensation, Ukarry gave them a hefty sum of money, along with 1,000km of land. Wars with other nations and territories waged on, and the Marleyan empire continued to grow. I got some respect from that first mission, mostly from my comrades, but some of the Marleyan officers seemed to caught wind as well. Sergeant Magath got most of the glory, being squad leader and all, but I got my fair share of pats on the back within my battalion. Me and Zent were still shook up after what we just went through. I can still see that Yulia girl’s face. I’ve never seen someone so scared.”
A couple hours after the battle ended, the Marleyans carry the bodies of their fallen and wounded out of the rubble. With how much artillery rearranged the town, it’s hard to wonder if Mereham will ever be itself again.
“Was all that death… seriously for nothing?” Zent quietly asks. A faint sobbing hooks the back of their ears. They investigate, and notice the grey armband attached to a young man, crying, sitting on a small crate, hands clasped to his head, fingers entangled in his hair.
“You okay? Did you know anybody down there?” Asks Zent.
“S-she was my sister!” He says. Zent and Dallon look over to the holed and bloodied tree.
“Oh shit.” Dallon says softly. Not really knowing what to do, Zent tries to comfort him.
“Uh, is there anything we can do?”
“You can help by making them pay!”
Standing up with eyes of wet daggers, he firmly grips his rifle and quickly starts walking towards the base tent but Zent quickly stops him.
“Hey!Hey!Hey! Shhh! Don’t do anything stupid, just breathe, alright? Sit back down.” Says Zent. He hesitantly takes his advice, and slumps back down on the crate. Dallon easily and slowly takes the rifle out of his hand. His head droops down near his knees and places his hands in the back of his neck, no more tears left in him.
“I’m Zent, this is Dallon.”
“Kieran.”
Magath walks up.
“You two did good out there, glad we caught that traitorous bitch before she killed any officers.” Kieran digs his nails into the nape of his neck.
“T-thank you sir, we’re thankful we could make Marley proud.” Dallon says. Magath notices Kieran.
“And who are you cadet? What’s wrong with you?” He asks.
“Kieran… Etthardt, sir. I’m her brother.”
“I see, we’re not gonna have to make you join her do we?”
“Don’t worry sarge, no need for that. He was just telling us how shocked he was. He’s pretty shaken up about it, I’m sure you can understand.” Says Dallon.
“Hm, alright. Try not to drag your parents back to a clean slate.” Magath says walking off. They all feel a sense of relief as he walks away, Kieran lets out a long exhale.
“Do you have any other close family?”
Asks Zent.
“My parents, um, my grandfather. I don’t really see him that much, he works a lot. He spent a lot of time with Yulia.”
“Recruits!! Regroup on me!!” Yells Kurth.
“Something tells me it’s not us going home.” Says Dal.
“Our job here is done!! There’s still a war out there and I suggest we win it!!”
“They’d never let us off that easy.” Says Zent. Dal takes a couple steps towards Kieran, and holds out his hand. Kieran looks up at him, and wipes his eyes under his glasses. He reaches back, and another link to this chain is formed.
“For the next 3 years we fought Marley’s enemies, expanding our territory apart of their colonization. For months on end I was under Sergeant Magath’s wing, that was until they announced the Warrior Program a couple years ago. His vast frontline experience with me, my friends, and the rest of our battalion earned him the title of being a Chief Overseer of the Warrior candidates. The years since, he’s been on and off combat and training. The reason why I’m sitting here now, is because he saved my life.”
“It was late December, 831. Deep into the night, in a frozen forest. In a far away country west of here, known as Serbacci. Eldian soldiers sit in our freezing trenches and foxholes as the frontline defense. The officers were uphill in a bunker with the Marleyan soldiers close by in their trenches and pillboxes. Magath was in charge of artillery. The mission was simple, something we’ve done plenty before, we were guarding a large munitions cache. If the Serbaccian army could take it, they’d stand to gain quite a foothold in taking back the region.”
A soldier crouch walks towards and looks down on Dallon & co’s hole.
“Psst, can one of you butt me?”
“Sorry Liam, we ran out an hour ago.” Kieran tells him. Liam sucks his teeth in frustration and looks elsewhere. Kieran sits back down, and yawns.
“How long are we gonna hold here?” He asks.
“Hell if I know.” Replies Zent.
“It was a rhetorical question.” Kieran says. Dal continues scanning through the binoculars.
“I can’t see anything, it’s too dark. Maybe they just like watching us freeze.” Dallon sighs, and sits back down in the foxhole.
“Serbacci’s the only country we’re at war with, if we can win this, we’ll go home. We won’t have to take anymore lives. When we get back, there’s this restaurant, called Satriali’s, best food in Liberio. My family’s good friends with the owners. As soon as we get home, I’m treating you both to dinner.” He says.
“I’ll take that as a promise.” Says Zent. He rubs his hands together and exhales into them, remembering warm memories of his family. He asks
“Do you really think 3 years of this shit will matter for us?”
“It will… it has to.” Answers Dallon. Zent looks at him with more than a shred of doubt.
“I don’t even think my parents know she’s gone, I’m not even sure if Marley sends Eldian families those letters. *yawns* it’s getting late, I think we should take turns sleeping.” Says Kieran.
“You go ahead, me and Zent will take first shift. Try not to sleep with your glasses on or you’ll break them, like last time.” Dal warns. Kieran lightly chuckles and dozes off after getting a bit more comfortable.
An hour and a half rolls by…
“See anything?” Asks Zent.
“Just trees and snow.” Dal responds.
Zent looks at his watch he took from a dead.
“30 til our shift ends.” Zent groans and rubs his eyes. He decides to pour himself a small boost.
“*short frustrated sigh* Shit, we’re out of coffee, since you’re up, you mind getting some? I’ll take over.” He asks.
“I’ll ask around, pretty sure Estus is closest, I’ll check him first.” Dal says climbing out of the hole.
“See if he’s got any su-“ *GUNSHOT* In a blink of an eye, a bullet slashes through the air like lightning, piercing Dallon in the front left side of his stomach! He sharply bends over and falls back from the inertia.
“DALLON!!” Zent cries out! He rushes out of the hole. Marley quickly responds, and weathervanes their hail towards their suspected besiegers! Dal slowly raises his hand over his face, from nail to wrist runs crimson. He’s bleeding out fast.
Kieran starts climbing out.
“I got him! Stay down!” Zent tells him and picks Dallon up. He runs, weaving past trees, foxholes, and whispering lead! He finally makes it to the bunker the steel door of the bunker housing the Marleyan officials. Dallon moaning and groaning in pain, weakly clawing at Zent’s face.
“I need a medic!! Help!!” He kicks the door to get their attention. It swings open by a Marleyan soldier. Noticing the armband, his face whiplashes in a couple seconds from shocked and empathetic to disgust and pissed off.
“What the hell are you doing here?! We told you to stay at your damn post, devil!!” The soldier yells.
“Please! J-just tell them it’s Vordeaux!! Tell Magath, he’ll know!! Please! He’s gonna die!!” Zent cries back. The soldier aims his rifle at Zent!
“I suggest you get back before you join him!” He warns.
“Enough! Put that rifle down!”
“But sir-!”
“Let them through, and yes that is an order. Bochs follow me!” Commands Magath. Zent follows him to a nearby table. Magath wipes the papers off and tells him to lay him there and apply pressure to that wound. He goes off to find a Marleyan medic with the proper equipment.
“…zen..” Dallon tries his best to talk but the pain and blood loss counteract. A bit out of breath and filled with dread, Zent tremblingly tells him:
“Don’t talk, save your strength, alright? *pant* We’ve been through worse, huh?” He looks at Dal’s off white winter uniform, the red has significantly consumed more of the fabric since their arrival at the door.
“…Actually this is the worse.” He says to himself. Magath comes back with a proper medic. She quickly examines the area of the wound.
“The bullet didn’t go through. We’re going to have to do surgery here. He won’t make it to a hospital, I’m gonna have to dig it out.” She says.
“W-wouldn’t that kill him?!” Zent asks.
“Either hold his legs down or end his misery right now.” Zent looks at her for a couple seconds before holding his best friend down tight. Magath joins in and pins his arms. She takes her scalpel in hand and gives them a nod of readiness.
She slices into the wound, making it accessible to reach into with her fingers. Her index and middle finger barrel in like a train to a tunnel! Dallon lets out a ghastly agonizing scream! Tears begin to race down his cheeks.
“I think I felt it!” The medic says. Kurth rushes in, confused.
“What the hell is going on in here?!”
“Vordeaux’s been hit! Grab him and keep him steady, sir!” Magath tells him. He takes up the request and holds down his head and upper torso. His hand on Dal’s mouth, his ear piercing screams dampen into muffles. Dallon passes out.
“I got it! Put pressure on that wound!”
“Is he gonna be okay?!” Asks Zent.
“If he’s strong enough to make it to the hospital then he might have a chance, after that I can’t tell you. His pulse is faint, I can’t guarantee he’ll make it. He’s gonna need a blood transfusion, right now I’m gonna need bandage him to be sent off.” She tells him.
“I need all of you back to your positions!!” Orders Kurth. Zent stumbles out of the door looking back, tears in his eyes, thinking this might be the last time he might see his best friend, on a blood dripping table, so far from home. He runs back through the bullets and the trees, now filled with holes or completely detached. He hops back down with Kieran, who stops firing and swings his head toward Zent, and notices his torso and hands are soaked in blood, with tears streaming down his face. Kieran’s body goes almost limp as thoughts of the worst has happened.
“Dal…” He softly says. Zent responds, his body and voice tremble like a red autumn leaf. He looks at his crimson hands.
“I-I don’t know. I… I-I don’t know…” He barely gets out.
“Give me the details, is he done for?” Asks Magath.
He’s gonna need proper surgery, fast. His intestines are torn. If he survives, it’s gonna take a while for him to recover.” The medic shares while disinfecting and bandaging him.
“Will he be able to fight after this?” Magath asks.
“If there’s no permanent damage then yes.”
“Good, he’s not going to for a while at least. I’m sending him home.” Says Magath.
“What? You realize he’s a devil blood right? Don’t tell me you’re warming up to these vermin.” She says.
“No. He may be a devil, but he’s survived under my command for 3 years now, and he’s certainly proved himself since the start. I’m not letting that potential get get squandered.” He tells her.
“I see, I’ll load him onto the carriage. I’m sure you have soldiers to lead sir.”
Magath nods and walks away.
“A couple days later, Marley scrapes by defending that munitions cache. Next thing I know, I was in a hospital with some random eldian’s blood flowing through me. Apparently that guy couldn’t be saved, so they decided to make his final act in life be saving another. Thankfully other than my intestines, no other organs were hit. With the blood loss, I was too out of it to realize what was happening at the time. The few days after I was shit felt like a dream. I remember, just wondering if I was even alive. After those few days, they put me on a ship with a bunch of other soldiers, and headed back home.”
“Goood morning Mr. Vordeaux. You’re back in the borders of our motherland, and soon you’ll be going back to your family.” Says the nurse.
“..what..what about, my friends?” He asks.
“Well I don’t know if they’re dead or not but I’m sure they’ll be fine. You’ll be staying here for the time being, you’re gonna need a lot of rest so don’t skip out on sleep.” She says a bit cheerfully.
“She was pretty, and pretty odd, always chipper. The weeks went by, I regain my strength, met some nice people, a couple even heard about me. When I was mostly back to my old self, I was woken up one early morning.”
“Mr. Vordeaux, sorry to wake ya but it’s time for you to leave for Liberio. I hope you enjoyed your stay here. These two fine gentlemen will escort you home, I even packed your bag for you.”
“Home? Shouldn’t I be back out there with my friends.” Dal asks.
“Oh, we had specific orders by a Lieutenant Theo Magath and a Colonel Raker Kurth to send you home after you were back in working order. With that said, try not to do any heavy lifting for a couple weeks, it’s still a bit sensitive down there. Other than that, you are good to go.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, thank you. [Am I seriously going, home?”] He says.
“From near the bottom to the top of the whole continent, I traveled by carriage, and speaking of carriage, I rode in an horseless carriage, an automobile as it’s called, but mostly train. I never quite fathomed just how big the country was, let alone the whole country”
8:03 pm
The car reaches the internment zone gate, the soldiers show their passes to the MPS guards, and drive on through. Onlookers coming home from work or looking out the window of their flat stare confused and intrigued at this strange new horseless carriage cruising the internment zone’s streets, a very rare sight. They soon reach the apartment building. Dallon gets out, swings his tornister and other gear attached over his shoulder. The soldier’s job is done, so they go back wherever they need to. He slowly walks through the building and up the stairs. He stops at the door, the final barrier separating Dallon from his most precious. A range of emotions swirl & surge within him, not all of them he understands. Excitement, anxiety, denial, what about Zent and Kieran? Are they even alive? He takes a deep breath, and a wistful smile floats across his face.
*knock*
*knock*
*knock*
To be continued…