The walk back to the locker room was the longest walk of Eren's life. Confetti rained down from the stands onto his back. All over his suit. Some pieces of glitter and paper got into his hair. Like the tournaments, this too was a long standing tradition. They celebrated the opening contest almost as much as the final bout. The beginning and the end side by side.Despite the throbbing in his head and the pain at his side, a part of Eren still could not believe he had opened the games, that he had won, too. Maybe I am dreaming, He thought. Maybe Drake hit me so hard that I am still in a coma.He feared that he would wake up any time from then, swaddled in a hospital gown, gasping for air with oxygen starved lungs. But he trudged all the way to the locker rooms and nothing happened. No awakening. No drawing on the air for breath.The announcer's voice kept booming over the intercom and Eren dragged his unwilling body, wondering where the exhaustion had emerged from. The doors clo
BOOM!The last of the explosions boomed so loudly, Eren held his hands to his ears. The blasts took him by the feet and dragged him through the slick mud of memory - That one evening. His mother holding a smoking shotgun with its barrel pointed heavenward. The part of her face angled towards him was cast in shadow, and for a stark moment, he was stunned at how picturesque she was. Like a statute, perfect and perfectly still.Elizabeth Trost had started something resembling a garden at the back of their house. A pet project of sorts. There were tomatoes in a corralled patch of loamy soil and reddened fruits bursting from the branches of pepper plants. A few stalks of corn swayed at the back too. Nothing nearly enough to be substantial.She tended to it in the hours after work, gently, as though it was her child. A second child. It calmed her, she claimed.Eventually the garden bloomed into more than what she had planned for, and of course the birds came. His mother made herself
Tiana learnt early how to wear a mask. How to be a mask.It was quite simple actually. Force a bright smile onto her face. Sprinkle false confidence into her step. If sitting, place one leg on top of the other—it was easier to conceal knee jerking that way. Find something to keep your hands occupied so the trembling is not visible. Do not fidget.It was easy to look composed. To be composed was a harder task. Her heart pounded in her chest. Anxiety ate at her."See?" Sid was saying to Eren, "I'd make a good friend.""Shut up, man." Eren said coolly. But he shoved him with his shoulder, as if to say, you are alright.More than anything else Tiana envied their freedom. Their groundedness. Especially Eren's. Unlike her, he was not tied to a Clan name. He did not bear the weight of nobility. Little was asked of him if any.Only that morning, before being driven to the arena, she had sat with her mother at their table, and even though it was only the two of them, she felt that weight p
After the seventh fight, they summoned Tiana.She was speaking to Sid and laughing about something he had said when her name boomed over the speakers. All eyes in the room settled on her and she seemed suddenly very small, unsure. Then as Eren watched, her face rearranged itself. She was sliding under something. Or perhaps, behind something.Eren knew what it was like to hide away from the world so long that it became a personality. A kind of armor, but of the mind. Everyone had something that they fell behind when they needed to. But Eren had watched her animated for the better half of an hour and he had seen the mask peeling to reveal the person beneath. He liked who she was underneath all that chainmail. He hoped her mask never became her.Her would-be opponent, a huge, muscular guy smirked at her and exited the locker room for the corridor. Tiana got to her feet, folded and unfurled her fingers nervously and started walking to the tunnel."Good luck, Tiana." Sid called afte
For Sid, fighting was not just an art form - it was clarity.Most children were taught violence only because their parents knew they would need it to contest in the tournaments when they were of age. But Sid's mother had never been in the picture. She left when he was young and now she was like a figure in the rearview mirror. The older he grew, the more distant his memories of her grew, the less he remembered. His father was a scientist, the wealthy kind, who solved problems by throwing money at them. He parented Sid from a distance, too, drawing him close only when he needed something from him.Young and surrounded on all sides by wealth and little humanity, he was always acutely aware of how different he was from others, how alone. His peers loved him. How could they not? He inherited his father's charm and his mother's beauty, the kind that made you heady, that made people act like he was a fleeting experience, like he would vanish if they did not turn and try to grasp at hi
Sid was swallowed by the crowd in the locker room as soon as he reentered it."Hell of a fight." Gaine Winchester told him and offered his hand for a handshake. They clasped hands.There were people all around him. At his back, giving him unsolicited, congratulatory pats, clasping his shoulder, shaking his hands like he was a national hero or something. Sid was accustomed to this, being admired. But this time it was worse. They had just watched him hurt a person. He did not feel like a national hero. Yet they were all over him, pawing at him. Eren would have been disgusted, Sid thought.He extracted himself from the crowd of pandering hands and someone stepped into his path. It was a girl. And Sid resisted the urge to snap at her."How did you do it?" She asked him.Sid raised a brow at her. "The fire," she continued, as though he did not know what she was speaking about, "You walked through it."Whoever she was, Sid did not recognize her. There were too many people in there f
‘Pray they stop me in time’, Eren had told Daniel. As he stepped into the arena, he realized he knew nothing of the extent of Daniel's powers. Daniel's ability was the ability to shape shift, like Drake. But he had barely used his abilities in the previous fights because his opponents were easier to beat. What would he do now that he knew Eren was a real threat? Eren dismissed the thought and tried to remain unruffled. The crowd welcomed him with cheering. Flower petals floated down from above. He gazed above in awe, momentarily distracted. The arena had been scrubbed clean of the blood and grime from the last few fights. The third stage had begun and just the same way he had started the tournament, his fight was beginning the third stage. Eren took his position at the other side of the circle and watched as Daniel emerged. His arrival was celebrated with cheering, too. The announcer announced his name and he raised a hand grinning as if he was some kind of prince.
The next blow Eren dealt Daniel nearly tore his head off his shoulders with the force of it and he was flung across the arena where he slammed against the wall, crumpling to the ground like a paper doll. A shock wave rippled through the arena after the blow. The crowd gasped. When Daniel hit the wall, the bricks cracked and a rift jagged like a bolt of lightning could be seen. "Get up!" People called from the crowd. "Come on!" They yelled all sorts of encouragement at the fallen fighter from the stands. The shouts turned into a chant and soon the arena was alive with it. ‘Not if he had a say in the matter’, Eren mused. He advanced on Daniel as the screams of Get up! grew more insistent. A blow like that, he surmised, would put down most people. Yet, bleeding at the mouth and from the ears, Daniel crawled forward, eventually using the wall as leverage to heft himself to his feet. Eren was upon him in a moment, as quick as a blur. He managed to regain his com