Eren slept through the first nightmare. They came for him in the night like ghosts of a different lifetime, and the first one began shortly after he had eaten and crawled under the covers of his bed. In his dreams, he found himself being led down an unfamiliar hallway by William Winchester. "Come on," the man kept saying. His eyes were like Eren's—a glowing, ruby red—unlike their usual blue. Eren followed him until he was led right back into the arena. Daniel awaited him there, except this time there was no beating him. He towered over the arena, a basilisk, warming in the sun. He beat Eren nearly in half. The second dream was less visceral. Eren was eleven again and his mother was still alive. He had returned from school with a handful of cornflowers, only to find her standing in a river of red. The entire house was drowned in waist high blood. "Mom?" Eren called out, wading towards her. He would recognize that curly hair anywhere, that gait. She was sta
Under the haloed light of chandeliers, the professor started Eren on an intensive crash course in manners. Silas drilled him on proper greetings, the art of small talk, and the subtleties of table etiquette. They practiced until Eren’s responses flowed smoothly, his posture straightened, and his smile was so practiced it looked genuine. The night wore on and Eren watched himself transform before his own eyes. Outwardly, at least. Inwardly, it was another matter altogether. He bubbled with frustration. “Did you learn this the way I am learning it?” He blurted while Silas was trying to instruct him on table etiquette. The professor looked up, tilting his head. “What?” “All of this,” Eren swept his hand over the table, the silverware, the cutlery, the finery. It overwhelmed him. “Is it not a little too much for one to learn sharply?” Silas rolled his chair a few feet away from Eren and contemplated the question for a while. “It is not. Also I was already well versed in all
Eren went to the banquet unchaperoned. Murray dropped him off at the gates of the Academy and he was left to make his way into the building. Sid was waiting at the gates. He had an unlit cigar stuck between his lips, and, in that suit, it gave him the air of a hardened detective. When he saw Eren, he did a double take at Eren and whistled. “You clean up nice, I can’t lie.” He said. Eren grinned at him. “Different days, different person.” They clasped hands in a handshake and together they ambled into the Academy. From a distance away, Eren could make out the lights in the banquet hall. When they entered the grand hall, they were immediately struck by the opulence on display. Chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, casting a warm glow over the marble floors where elegantly dressed guests mingled and made conversation. Round tables dotted the room. Each table held a vase of freshly cut flowers and a set of silver cutlery. Glasses stood next to bottles
Sid had not felt as human as he did now in a long, long time.He was wearing a navy blue suit with shiny brass buttons, a waistcoat of the same colors and black tie. His hair was slicked back with thin oil and it settled smoothly at his nape. Sid slid his hand over it every now and then for effect. He went through the crowds, stopping to greet an old acquaintance, smiling when he made a new one. He felt tangible, purposeful, like he was just becoming a solid thing after months of being a sliver of nothingness. Perhaps it was the contests, the fact that he had seen his own blood spilled for the first time in years. The sight of one life’s blood outside their body could do that to a man, he had read somewhere, make them see themselves. Added to that, he spent most of his MANNA in the arena so he healed slowly, humanly.A hand stole his arm and he looked sideways to find Tiana clinging to him as if she was drowning in open water and he was a lifeboat.Through clenched teeth and a f
Fucking Winchesters, Eren swore to himself.He seethed as he made his way towards the exit. His frustration was palpable, like a cloud hovering over him. They played the clips of his fight with Daniel and the hall had suddenly become too small, too devoid of air. He knew what they were doing. They were trying to make him seem unhinged, wild. The kind of person no one would want to touch. The kind of person sponsors would not want to be associated with.Of all the things the Clans considered important, their reputations were paramount. Their reputations made and broke them. Their reputations could be compared to fabric—white, sterile fabric—easy to sully, and William had just made Eren out to be a tree heavy with pomegranates, messy, ripe to bursting.They played the clips and it was as though there was not enough oxygen in the world, as though staying there another minute would
Gaine, Tiana, and Sid found Eren alone at the balcony. He heard them before they came into view, Tiana’s heeled shoes knocking noisily against the hard surface of the ground. "Hey you." Tiana said gently, laying a hand on the small of his back. “Hey,” Eren answered. Sid joined him at the balustrade, leaning over it. His dark hair grazed his shoulders and fell into his face. He swept it aside in a practiced motion. “Dude, you good?” he asked. Gaine stopped a distance away from them, careful not to overstep. The darkness concealed him. Eren appreciated the gesture. A mix of gratitude and lingering irritation ran through him. He was thankful for them, Sid and Tiana. This unlikely band of friends he has made for himself. At the same time, his encounter with William and Jared deeply irritated him. He sighed heavily. "I'll be fine. It has been a long day, that is all." Tiana offered a sympathetic smile. "You have handled it well, considering all things." Musi
Eren heaved his suitcase up the narrow staircase. The building was ancient, its stone walls weathered. He paused at the top landing, catching his breath and glanced down the hallway to find his room number etched in shiny brass on a glossy wooden door. This was to be his room. After the banquet, The Ten were to move into their quarters at the Academy—a single building meant to house them all, Saints and Terrors alike. Eren made the trip back to Silas’s house that night to gather what personal effects he could. He did not own much to begin with, which, admittedly, made things easier, but which also made him sad. Following his mother’s death, Eren was moved around a lot. He made himself unlearn the notion of ownership. It was too painful feeling like he finally belonged to a place, finally owned something, only to be ripped away and sent to a new home. The professor found him in his room that morning, stuffing his bag full of shirts from the wardrobe. Even though the doo
The grand dining hall was just as Eren would have expected it to be — quaint. The room was adorned with towering marble columns at its four corners. Paintings hung from the walls depicting ancient battles, war heroes and politicians. One painting of a beautiful woman, half-fish, half-person, sitting on a beach floor, swallowed one quarter of the wall. A vaulted ceiling that echoed every sound in the room completed the look. All around them was white, aseptic alabaster. Eren tried to not be awed, but failed. The finery made the professor’s house seem like a kennel in comparison. He scanned the room filled with faces he knew too well. Tiana, the Dennin twins, Drake, Daniel, Gaine, Kathlyn, Sithel. They were all seated around the dining table which was an enormous circle of burnished oak, covered in intricate carvings. Oddly, Samantha Dennin seemed to be addressing them. Eren’s brows furrowed and he slid into the empty chair next to Sithel. Samantha acknowledged Ere