The clearing where the lodgings are constructed is massive, an expansive quadrangle bordered by cabins on three sides. The center cabin is the largest, the size of a small mansion and most likely the main headquarters for training. Thick trunks fence in the space, occasional leaves drifting to the ground from their lofty branches.
"Ah, this looks so pretty!" Thea exclaims. "I could get used to this scenery. It's amazing."
"Not bad, right?" Oscar shows off his hometown's forest pridefully. "I used to run through these woods all the time when I was a kid."
"It's completely empty," Hange explains, entering the opening. "Nobody will be here until tomorrow morning at the earliest. To start, we're going to clean up this place from top to bottom. I need everyone involved."
"Man, we're already being put to work?" Lisa whines.
"This isn't a vacation," Ruth chides. "We're here to work."
"Auxiliary duties," you say, recalling the letter. "We agreed to this."
"That's right," Hange concurs, still facing forward. "And we're gonna start right away." They fire a quick finger to their left, aiming at the cabin closest to you. "That's the women's cabin. The one beside it," they say as they shift their pointer. "Is the men's cabin." Hange switches hands as they point to their right. "Stable is closest to us. Next to it, the officers' cabin. And in front of us is everything else. Mess hall, offices, storage, all that junk." Hange steers their horse to face you. "Everyone will start in the main building. Find supplies; I know there's some left here from last time. You," they say as they direct their index to you. "Are in charge. Moblit and I are heading into town for rations and other necessities. You're all on your own—you can handle that, right?"
"Yeah," you answer. "We're responsible."
"Great. Have fun, then. Moblit!" Hange cries. "Let's go!"
The two officers leave, and your small group of nurses station your horses in the stable before heading into the main building. Its centerpiece is a massive mess hall, thick tables dotted with chairs taking up the main court. It vaults into the upper floor, a balcony framing the edges and providing walkways for the rooms above.
"Oh, god," Lisa sighs. "This is going to take forever."
"There's six of us," you mention. "It won't be that bad."
Oscar runs a hand up a timber post supporting the balcony overhead. "I wish Robin and Henrick were here. That would've made it easier."
"No point whining about it," Ruth asserts. "Let's work."
Your gang eventually finds a supply closet in some unremarkable hallway, filled with enough ancient cleaning tools for every person. Armed with brooms, mops, soaps, and masks, your team breaks up to whichever corner of the lodge they want to start in.
You end up in an office on the upper floor with Thea, scrubbing down the broad timber desk while she dusts the empty bookshelves lining the walls. You trust your medically talented friends to do a thorough cleaning job without supervision, an ability they've proven they're capable of during your time at the hospital.
"I'm surprised Section Commander Hange left us alone," Thea comments as she wipes off her feather duster. "I mean, we're not little kids or anything, but we are...new. Strangers, kinda."
"They trust us," you say. "And I appreciate that they do. We're upstanding medical workers, after all."
"We sure are," Thea laughs. She rises to her toes to reach a higher shelf, groaning as she strains her extended arm. "Oh!" she blurts as she drops to her heels. "What if it's like a...a test?"
"A test?"
"Yeah! They leave us alone at camp, no officers around, just to see if we actually do slack off. Maybe there's Scouts in the trees watching us." Thea points at the huge window behind the desk your cleaning, indicating the trees beyond.
"That would be so creepy." You peer out the window, searching for any humans in the branches and foliage. "And a bit excessive, wouldn't you think? Do they doubt us that much, they set up this surveillance test beforehand to gauge our reliability?"
"You're right," Thea digresses. "We're just nurses, after all." She takes a few steps over to the next bookshelf. "A setup, that's it. They'll send fake criminals after us just to see how we handle an emergency situation."
"A criminal situation?" You chuckle as you plunge your cloth into the wash bucket beside you. "Again, excessive. We're nurses, not soldiers or anything. I really hope they know we're not equipped to handle battles or robberies."
"Hey, I could kick ass if necessary. I'll slice up any bad guys." She taunts with her duster like a swordsman, slicing at the air dramatically.
"Careful. You'll spread dust." You splay the cloth on the desk and run it along the surface. "But I'll be sure to call on you if there's any crooks. I'm glad there's at least one warrior among us."
"Absolutely. I gotcha covered."
You change rooms and cleaning partners as the afternoon continues, lulling yourself into the repetitive routine of mundanely sprucing up the place with the same automatic abilities your years as a nurse had sharpened. Conversations are the only anchor keeping you from boring yourself to death, and stories from your friends give your mind something to latch on to while you work.
Hange and Moblit arrive with a horse cart each, requesting assistance in unpacking food and bedding before making another trip to town. You eventually move on to the officers' cabin, cleaning up the six two-person bedrooms on the first floor before exploring the six single rooms on the second. A floor for the squad leaders and a floor for the section commanders and commander, most likely.
The stable is next, and it's cleaned up swiftly. You tackle the men's cabin in the early evening, then leave Oscar to unpack alone as you and the other women start on your own cabin.
"Guys." Lisa bursts into the main area of the cabin several minutes later, weaving through the rows of bunkbeds you and your friends were changing the bedding of. "Guys. I just had a great idea."
"What's that?" Thea clambers off the bed she had been folding hospital corners on.
"When I was cleaning the mess hall, I saw this little clearing behind the main building. There was a firepit. How cool is that?"
"Okay. What's your idea?" Ruth slides her suitcase under a bunk she's already claimed.
"Hold on, I'm not done! Hange and Moblit brought—I mean, did you see what they brought? Food for an army, of course. Anything from veggies to meat and a few little sweets too. Oh, and alcohol. I'm serious. Honest-to-god alcohol. Isn't that just the perfect recipe? Food, drinks, and a fire?"
Thea laughs. "You wanna have a bonfire?"
"Of course! Just, y'know, the nurses having a good time before the boring Scouts show up. It'll be fun!" Lisa folds her arms and leans against a teetering bunkbed. "We can get to know each other even better. Consider it team-building."
"I don't know, Lisa," Emma mumbles as she drifts closer to her sister. "I don't think that'd be a good idea."
"It'll be fine, Em." Lisa tousles her sister's ponytail. "We can look after each other. We'll just fry up some veggies and whatnot, have a few drinks."
"And start work tomorrow hungover? Absolutely not." Ruth suppresses an eyeroll as she rigidly stations herself against the bunkbed.
"Then don't drink! Those that want to can suffer the consequences on their own, me among them. I can handle myself pretty well when it comes to alcohol." Lisa pounds a fist into her chest.
"And what will the Scouts say when a chunk of their rations are missing?" Ruth asks bitingly.
"They'll say: 'Oh, we brought enough food to feed an army for months with some to spare. Oh, we have a town just on the edge of the forest if we need more. Oh, we ought to give the nurses that are assisting us some freedom during their time here'. Right?"
"I highly doubt that last notion." Ruth shakes her head.
"Well, the other two are right." Lisa shrugs. "What does our pseudo-supervisor have to say, hm? Any shame in a little harmless fun?"
You roll your eyes and grin, amused by her manipulation of your shaky title. "I really don't think I control this group," you admit, then take a second longer to think. "Besides, Section Commander Hange and Squad Leader Moblit will be here tonight. I don't think they'd want us doing something like that."
"Something like what?" Hange shouts as they charge into the cabin, the thick wooden doors flying open on either side of them.
"Hey, Section Commander!" Thea darts closer to her officer while the rest of you momentarily freeze up.
"Are we planning something?" Hange asks straightforwardly, slamming their hands on their hips.
"Lisa wants to have a bonfire. Food and alcohol included," Ruth snitches without a second thought.
"Ruth," Lisa bemoans, pouting.
"Would you rather they find out once you're already stupidly drunk?" Ruth fires.
"Oh, a little jamboree, huh?" Hange paces through the beds as they take a headcount of all the female nurses. "Your last moments of entertainment before work starts?"
"Kinda," Lisa advertises, debating if Hange is actually on board with the idea. "You soldiers must have parties all the time, right?"
"All the time is a bit of an overstatement, but we can have fun every now and then." Hange nods as they stalk down a different row, either inspecting the room or the personnel therein. "When the officers—well, when Keith allows. He's usually pretty strict about that."
"But he's not here right now," Lisa continues, hoping to cajole Hange into agreeing. "But he will be tomorrow, and he will be for the however-long we're here. We've got only one chance, Hange."
Hange returns to the foyer of the cabin, glancing back at their group of scheming nurses. "Well," they begin, their eyes darting from one person to the next. "I obviously can't approve of such an event. It's dangerous, and immature, and I don't want to be held responsible for the consequences."
Lisa sighs. "You can trust us, Hange. We—"
"However," Hange interrupts. "I can't help what happens while I'm not around to witness it. And on that note: I'm heading to my cabin."
You all hesitate. "What?" Lisa asks.
"I'm. Heading. To. The officers'. Cabin. I'm going to bed now. I'll be in the cabin all night. So will Moblit. Understood?" Hange has a sly grin on their face as they glance back at you, hoping you've caught the message.
"Ah," Lisa utters, her expression mirroring Hange's. "I see. Then, you should get to bed. We lovely nurses are going to do the exact same thing."
"So I hear!" Hange gives an exaggerated shrug. "I heard all the nurses went to bed the night before the Scouts arrived. That's all I know, obviously."
"You're the best, Section Commander," Thea says. "Thanks."
"Sure." Hange waves as they plod to the exit. "Don't worry about rations; we really do have an overabundance. Just keep your heads on straight."
"We will!" Lisa promises. "Thank you!"
Your section commander leaves, and Lisa bursts into a fit of laughter. Ruth sighs, just as apprehensive as Emma. You shift your weight onto one leg, debating the safety of the situation.
"Aren't they the best?" Lisa sashays to the foyer, grinning brightly to herself. "I wanna work under them. Em, you and I are definitely taking Hange."
"Too late!" Thea darts to you and takes your upper arm. "Her and I have already claimed Hange, and there's a max of three nurses per section commander. Sorry."
"Ah!" Lisa throws her hands up in faux distress as she whips around. "Em and I have to be together, though! What about Erwin?"
"I picked Erwin," Ruth said. "And so did Oscar."
"Argh! Alright, Miche is ours." Lisa is quick to claim the last section commander with possibly enough spots for her and her sister. "I'm gonna go tell Oscar about the fire. Let's clean up quickly and get to having fun!"
She's out of the room in the next instant, leaving you and your friends confused in her wake. "Wow," you breathe. "I don't remember this energy during our time at the hospital."
"Nah. She's calmer around the grieving patients, I think," Thea notes. "Rightfully so. It's a tense environment."
"It is," Ruth says. "Is she always like that, Emma?"
"Yes," Emma squeaks, barely confident enough to speak without her sister beside her. "But she's nice."
"Mmhmm," Thea hums. "She is."
"Well, we're almost finished in here," you say. "Let's hurry up before Lisa burns down the forest or something."
An hour later, the sun is shrouded behind the thick trees as it descends, lending little light to your mission of carrying supplies to the firepit behind the main building. It's a deep well that's as wide as you are tall, already stocked with a few bulky logs and loose kindling. Oscar is tossing more fuel in while Thea works on lighting a small torch to ignite the pit. You drop a box of snacks next to a fallen trunk used as one of several sitting options, already occupied by a rigid Ruth. Lisa takes a crate that Thea is struggling to carry and marches it to your box, the clinking of bottles inside sounding as she moves noisily.
"I just came from the women's cabin," Thea announces as she sits down beside Ruth. "There's a lamp on in the lower and upper floor of the officers' cabin. They both really are staying in there for the night."
"I can't believe this," Oscar laughs. "We're pretty lucky to have Hange with us on the first night. I don't think any of the other officers would've allowed this."
"I'm surprised even Hange did," Ruth admits. "Seems reckless."
"Seems fun," Lisa corrects. "'Cause it's going to be. Em's finishing up some food in the kitchen; I'm gonna go help her take it outside. Be right back!"
You slump onto the end of the trunk, giving enough room for Oscar to sit beside Ruth should he want to. "Well, I'm exhausted already. Today was way busier than I was expecting."
"Yeah." Oscar hovers on the edge of the pit, watching Thea ignite a torch. "Tomorrow's gonna be busy, too. We might not be fixing people up, but I'm sure they'll find duties for us."
"I still think I'll prefer it, though." Thea plants her palms on either side of her thighs. "It's easier to do this sort of stuff than to see the injured or grieving soldiers. Or watching them die. I'm glad we won't have to do any of that this time."
The group simmers in the truth they hadn't considered, the luxury of the situation now made apparent. It will be a silent blessing to deal with easy injuries and next to no risk of death, and spirits will certainly be higher for this bout of work. The soldiers will have mostly recovered from their grief, and will operate as noble troops instead of distraught patients.
"Lisa's enough proof of that," Ruth says. "Her attitude is quite different."
"Yeah," you agree, watching the lit torch that Thea tosses into the pit. Your friends are silent as all observe the flames come to life, tongues of fire sprouting out of the well with crackling sparks drifting up in the air. Pops and hisses fill the silence, followed by a distant crack.
"The hell?" Oscar's eyes go wide as he stares at the darkness in the direction of the courtyard. "Did you guys hear that?"
"Yes," Ruth answers, her voice thin.
Fear commands silence this time, everyone straining to hear more daunting noises.
"It's Lisa," Thea hypothesizes. "She's trying to scare us."
Faint footsteps shuffle in the distance, and everyone freezes.
"Lisa," Thea whispers.
Your heart thumps in your chest, rationality fighting to take control. Someone has to go check who the intruder is, whether it be Lisa or the Scouts or the horrors of the forest. Nobody around you is moving, and you find the strength to at least rise to your feet. "Lisa!" you shout, startling your friends.
There's no answer, neither through words nor movement.
"Somebody go," Ruth orders, though she's as petrified as everyone else.
"S-Supervisor," Oscar requests.
"Me?" You frown at his shift of the burden.
"You're in charge," he postulates.
"You got this," Thea cheers purely so you can get a move on.
"What happened to our warrior?" you grumble as you manage to take a step forward.
"I don't have my sword," she defends.
Realizing that the responsibility is purely your own, you exhale to expel terror before crossing to the edge of the ring of light. "Who's out there?" you holler. "We're with the Scout Regiment! Please, make yourself visible and passive!"
"Impressive," Ruth praises. "Quite brave."
"A-ah!" A boyish cry is heard from the darkness, sounding from the stable that's hidden on the other side of the main building. A single whinny follows, terrifying you.
"Who's there?" you ask again. "Don't you dare touch our horses!"
"I-I'm not!" the voice replies. You can't easily place who it belongs to, but it's not from your group.
"Name?!" you request fiercely.
"H-Henrick Lorenz!" A new circle of orange light pours across the ground, preceding the quick footsteps of the lantern's owner. He's a small teenager, and an anxious one at that. Thin, circular glasses reflect lanternlight and protect his hazel eyes, eyes that finely match his curly crop of brunette hair. The lantern handle creaks and swings as he speeds towards you, held tightly in his grip while his other hand clutches his satchel.
"Henrick!" You exhale, relief washing over you. "You cannot scare us like that! Were you trying to sneak up on us?"
"Not at all!" His brows are knot in distress as he clutches the lantern close to his chest. "I was staying quiet 'cause I thought you all would be sleeping. I didn't want to bother you. I'm so sorry!"
"It's—relax, it's okay. Come on, come meet the others." You delicately draw the lantern away from its dangerous proximity to his clothes. "Calm down. It's just the nurses having a nice bonfire tonight."
"O-okay." He devotes both hands to holding his bag as he shyly advances towards the group. "Hi, guys."
"Henrick!" Thea goes first, her friends giving similar relieved greetings. Henrick is accepted into the group after a few more chides for his unnecessary stealth, and he takes a careful seat on the ground close to the pit.
Lisa and Emma return with small meals for everyone, and it's soon realized that someone will have to share with Henrick. Emma offers her plate at the request of Lisa, the two sisters sharing a meal while the newcomer gets his own dish. Drinks are passed out soon after, either poured into salvaged cups or entire bottles snatched by the greedier partygoers. You, along with a few others, don't take any alcohol, but there's a few juice alternatives.
It is fun, you have to admit. The loquacious members of your group spill exciting stories and theories for how the next few days will go, bouncing ideas and jokes off each other. Timid listeners are happy enough without contributing, and their occasional comments are well-received. The fire crackles on, your little haven feeling like the only beacon of life in the oppressing forest.
"Is there a section commander you want, Henrick? We get to pick ours," Thea says before nibbling on a cracker.
"U-um, Section Commander Miche, maybe." Henrick clutches his bottle of peach juice, his thumb rubbing the painted label.
"Sorry, can't do that," Thea confesses. "Lisa and Emma claimed him, and he's only going to have two helpers. You'll have to choose between Section Commander Erwin and Section Commander Hange."
"Oh." Henrick's shoulders sink, and his eyes lower. "Section Commander Erwin, then. He's...less intense."
"That means Robin is with us," Thea says to you.
"Fine with me." You snatch a prune from the bowl between you and Oscar, popping it in your mouth.
"Poor guy has to come all the way from Utopia, huh?" Oscar slouches forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. "How far is the journey?"
"From northern Rose?" Ruth glances up from the fire she's been entranced by. "All the way to southeastern Maria...it's a good amount of kilometers."
"Isn't...um, isn't it in the main land of Rose?" Emma asks.
"Yeah." Lisa swishes the bottle of whiskey in her fingertips. "Utopia's a town in Wall Rose."
"It's the north district of Rose," Ruth clarifies.
Lisa snickers. "Nope. Sorry, Ruth, but the northernmost district of Rose is Nedlay. Not Utopia. Utopia's just a town."
"It's the north gate district," Ruth repeats. "Have you never seen a map?"
"I've seen several," Lisa fires back. "And they all say Nedlay."
"I don't know what maps you're looking at, then," Ruth sighs. "Utopia District is the northern district of Wall Rose, plain and simple."
"No, it isn't. It's—"
"Okay, we don't need to fight." You're on your feet, still feeling a sense of responsibility to corral the group. "I have a whole map of the Walls in my bag, labelled and everything. Will you two be satisfied if I fetch it and show you?"
"Sure," Lisa agrees. "I'll believe the paper."
"Fine with me," Ruth adds.
"Great. Henrick, can I borrow your lantern?" You cross to the seated boy.
"Yeah." He lights it before extending it up to you.
"Don't get mauled by wolves or something," Lisa warns. "That'd be a sad way for our supervisor to go out."
"Lisa," Thea whines. "There could actually be wolves out here. That's scary."
"I'll be fine," you promise, taking the light. "I'm just going to the stable. I'll scream if something goes wrong."
Your circle of light breaks free from the main fire, your legs casting lengthy shadows in its area as you separate from the group. You had left your saddlebag hung up in the stable, the urgency of cleaning more dire than unpacking. The horses barely stir as you step into the enormous barn, only a few dark pairs of eyes following you as you tread through the damp hay of the stable floor.
Your parchment map is retrieved from your saddlebag swiftly, and you give a small goodbye to the horses before stepping back outside. You can't see the firepit behind the main building, but swathes of light pour out from either side of the lodge.
Hiss.
Thunk.
Zzzzzip.
You nearly drop the lantern and map at the startling succession of sounds behind—no, above you. Whipping around, you stare wide-eyed at the trees where the unmistakable noise of ODM wires and anchors came from. The trunks show no sign of movement, but you know what you heard.
Somebody—maybe multiple people—have ODM gear, and they're in the trees. Is it the Scouts? Are they truly performing some test, like Thea said? If so, you've well and truly failed that test, proven by your excessive use of Scout rations technically without permission from an officer. They could be watching you now, taking notes on your disrespectful misbehavior and whispering with each other about punitive action. You could be dismissed the next day, if they really wanted. The notion fills you with guilty dread.
A worse thought forms: it isn't the Scouts. It could be some bandits who happen to have ODM training and are ready to use it to tear apart your group. You flick your eyes over to the officers' cabin. Both lights are out, indicating Hange and Moblit must be asleep. It would take them far too long to wake up and gear up in time to fight back. These possible criminals could take what they want and disappear in the blink of an eye. They just have to finish scoping out the place first.
And surely, whoever they are, they must certainly see the lone woman separated from the group, her lantern calling all visual attention to her. You are a perfect candidate to take hostage, or just to take. Human trafficking is still more prevalent than the citizens want to admit, and you're not ready to be forced into the system.
Trembling fingers flick off the switch feeding gas to the lantern, and your circle of light vanishes. Plunged into darkness, you have only the sliver of moonlight above you and the distant fire to aide your eyes in scouring the trees. Devoid of the lantern's harsh glare, you take a few minutes to adjust to the dimness as you visually ascend each tree trunk, looking for—
You spot him. Anchored several dozen meters up to the tree closest to you, you see the ODM user. Or at least one of them. The moonlight bounces off his blade sheaths, the wires attached to them glinting faintly. His frame is small between them, and you're given enough light to discern the white pants he wears caged up in the leather straps of the ODM harness. His shoulders are adorned with that green cape—he's a Scout.
The Scouts are here, dammit. Your hopes of an exciting venture with them are crushed.
You don't know if you want to call out to him right now, or simply walk back to the firepit like you didn't see him in the first place. Squinting, you hunt for more features that could prove who he is, hoping to at least put a name to the face. His hood is down, and you strain to make out the fountain of black hair on his pale head. The realization strikes you, and your suspicions are only confirmed when you find yourself staring right at his steel, sharp eyes.
It's Levi.
He's hovering far above you, and he's observing you with the wordless terror of a stalking predator. He's still, not a muscle twitching as he waits for you to process his presence. Frankly, you don't know how to do so. Is he with other Scouts right now? Did he lead the early group of supervisors that want to check on the new nurses? You want to scan the area for other soldiers, but you can't look away from the menace looming over you.
At least aware of his name, you decide to turn yourself in. You open your mouth to speak, but he puts a quick finger to his lips, the unloaded hilt of his gear held in his remaining digits.
Stay quiet. You can tell the command he's giving instantly. His expression is impossible to make out in the distance, leaving you no hints as to what's going on in his head. You don't know why he's demanding silence, nor can you find the wherewithal to discover that reason for yourself. You're staring and obeying, your jaw closing slowly.
He sees your compliance, new ideas forming behind the eyes you can barely see. Next, he points a finger in the direction of the main building, perhaps intended for the firepit beyond. You stiffen, realizing he will surely call you out on your unapproved get-together. He's seen it all, perhaps recorded his observations, and will report to a superior officer the following morning. You have no sense of his loyalty to the regiment, but you wouldn't put it past him to enforce justice to keep the new workers corralled.
He flicks all his fingers forward in a shooing motion, and points again. Go. He wants you to return to the firepit.
Why? You still can't answer that damned question. Does he want you to just return to the party as if nothing happened? Did something happen to your friends, and he wants you to see? He's asking you to look the other way; to resume your night as if he had never been there. Was this just some desperate attempt to go unnoticed? You don't know.
You take a step back, and he nods. Again, he conveys as he flicks his fingers a second time. Go.
Utterly confused but compliant out of unforeseen obligation, you drag your feet away from the perched Levi, eventually turning your back on him and giving a quick glance over your shoulder as you leave. You don't know what to say, or what to think, or what to do. He has given you the text to fill the script your mind was leaving blank, and you feel no other directive than to follow what is instructed of you.
Reentering the fire's light elicits a yelp from Thea. "G-geez! What're you doing without your light on?"
"Now you're trying to sneak up on us," Oscar chides.
"Sorry," you nearly whisper. "It—um, it was bright enough."
"Are you kiddin'? It's pitch black out," Lisa exaggerates. "You're really creepy, wandering in the dark like that."
Hesitant and quiet, you walk to Henrick and return the lantern, debating on whether you should tell them about Levi or not. His command to stay silent feels like not just don't talk, but also don't tell. Don't tell the others about him. Don't make his presence known.
You look to the monster trees closing you in. Is he up there? Is he still watching you? Are other Scouts watching you? It's impossible to tell. The light of the firepit clouds up your vision, and you can't get a good view of the branches overhead. Reluctantly patrolling the area, you keep glancing around the trees whether you intend to or not.
"Hey." Lisa shoots to her feet, throwing back a swallow of her whiskey. "Let's see the map."
"Oh. Right. Sure. Here." You give it to her once she's close enough, still not in your own head.
She snatches it from you and takes a forceful seat between Ruth and Thea. "Alright. Let's see."
You station yourself behind the women and look behind you, trying to drown out their conversation and listen for more ODM sounds. There aren't any, and there's no movement in the foliage either. Scanning the ground around you, you wonder if he could've descended sometime while you had been walking. No sign of anyone.
You sigh, listening to Lisa's exasperated grumble as Ruth emerges the victor of their argument. Rose's north district is Utopia, but there's also a man in the trees. Or several men. Who knows.
"I coulda sworn it was Nedlay," Lisa huffs as she shoves the map onto Ruth's lap. "Nedlay, north. North, Nedlay. I remember because it's an alliteration."
"Relearn, then. It's Utopia." Ruth delicately rolls up your parchment and lifts it above her head for you to take it.
You do, clutching it tightly as you check the upper trees again, hoping that the man or men in the branches are making enough movement to notice. They could be anywhere, like stealthy bats flittering around your group. They're watching the pseudo-leader of the nurses encourage an unauthorized gathering using regiment rations, and they won't forget.
It feels a bit silly to be afraid of breaking the rules, but you really don't want to disappoint the regiment. This job means a lot, and screwing it up on the first night would be a horrible way to start—or to end the experience.
Levi, whether accompanied or not, had sent you back to your little frolicking friends, perhaps letting you enjoy your last few hours of happiness before reprehension would come the following morning. It's a taunting gesture, a cruel prolonging of the inevitable consequences that you can't take your mind off of. You're still scanning the trees, trying to telepathically plead with your spectators.
"Didn't you go to school, Lisa?" Oscar asks as he brings his cup of brandy to his lips.
"Duh. How else would I be a nurse? Em and I both went to college in Karanes."
The conversation around you is just too loud to make out any noises from the trees. You're glancing up for the umpteenth time, desperate to discern just where the hell Levi is.
"I didn't go to college," Henrick admits quietly.
"Huh?" Lisa cocks her head. "Self-taught? Did the hospital ever—"
"Ah!" A burst of fierce pain punches your shoulder blade, causing you to jolt and cry out. The map falls from your startled hand, dropped at your feet. "Shit," you curse as you look behind you. There's nobody there, nor in the trees. It's as if a ghost had swiftly attacked you.
"Are you okay?" Thea is on her feet, anxious to cease any suffering.
"I'm...I'm fine." You reach a hand behind you to try and find the impact site, but it's right out of your reach. "I think my back spasmed." You don't think that at all, but the lack of any cause for your pain leaves no readily available explanation. You search the ground for possible projectiles, but there's nothing but rocks and dirt at your feet.
"Are you sure?" Thea is skeptical, and admittedly you are too. You just don't know what other reason to give.
"Yeah. Sorry." You notice your map on the ground, and stoop to pick it up.
"Weak," Lisa teases. "Did carrying that one crate wear you out?"
"Maybe," you answer absentmindedly as you scoop up the map. Underneath it, an odd rock catches your eye.
"I can help you stretch it, if needed," Lisa proceeds to kindly offer. "Chiropractic is my specialty."
It doesn't even look like it's made of stone. You pick up the pebble, your finger pads coming into contact with an unusually papery texture. Your thumb feels the thread that's circling the rock, along with the strange layer beneath it.
"I think massage therapy would be better," Emma counters, able to only speak confidently when her sister is her conversation partner. "Kneading out the knots is more effective than stretching them."
Your hand and its acquisition are hidden in the shadow of the trunk you're crouched behind. You draw the object closer to your face, squinting to examine it.
A pebble the size of a prune has been wrapped in a wrinkled bundle of thin paper, a single thread keeping the covering bound to the rock. It isn't natural by any means. You pick at the string and unravel it, letting the rock fall to the ground as you pinch the paper left behind. Unfolding it, you tilt it forward slightly to decipher the scratches you reveal.
The script is still quite pleasant despite being written with a graphite pencil and apparently in a rush. It's recognizable enough that the sender of the note needn't leave his signature. You know who wrote it.
Quit gawping at the trees.
You look ridiculous.
Heat burns in your cheeks as you swiftly pocket the note, shooting to your feet hastily. You clench the map, keeping in your embarrassed fidgets as you stare stiffly at the fire.
Levi saw your anxious glances, likely observing you with annoyance or amusement from wherever he hid in the woods. His stark insult mortifies you, spurring shame that blends with developing dread to utterly plague your mind. He went to the trouble of making this little message just to mock your uneasiness, even rudely throwing it at your body to infect your comfort.
You gasp. He threw the rock? Obviously he must have, but from where? Immediately disobeying the order of the paper, you turn around and look up. You still can't find him anywhere in the trees. The branches are devoid of life, Levi an invisible phantom among them. Even the lowest tree limb is tens of meters up, way too far for one person to see another, much less throw an object with perfect aim.
He was fortunate, that's it. He just dropped the stone and hoped it would land on or near you. Luck was on his side, and his message successfully caught the attention of his target.
No. You can't believe that. Gravity isn't strong enough to lend speed to an object as powerful as the one that hit you; you can discern as much from the collision strength and angle of impact that left your back smarting unpleasantly. That pebble was thrown, no doubt. Thrown from an impossible height, yet perfectly meeting with its intended destination with complete confidence.
You're amazed, almost unnerved by this frighteningly accurate sharpshooter. Miche's claim of superhuman abilities feels just a tad more believable.
Remembering the note, you drop your head and turn back around, already fearing another well-aimed projectile should you keep disobeying. Not only is he watching you; he's also judging your actions and maybe preparing more painful messages in case you step out of line. You debate telling the others about what just happened, but his earlier order to stay quiet is just as powerful in your mind as his most recent demand. You say nothing. You stop looking at the trees and consign yourself to sitting timidly on the trunk, Levi's note in your pocket and his message on your mind.